"It's not hazing. It's the Hellfire Club."
Roleplaying Log: "It's not hazing. It's the Hellfire Club."
IC Details

Emma offers Andrea an invitation.

Other Characters Referenced: Jay Guthrie
IC Date: February 13, 2020
IC Location: Harney & Son, NYC
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 14 Feb 2020 03:28
Rating & Warnings: G
Scene Soundtrack: None
NPC & GM Credits:
Associated Plots

The invitation came by way of Miss Frost's assistant, Miss Tasha Beaumont.

It wasn't in the least bit fancy, as invitations go. In fact, it's altogether humdrum. 'Miss Frost would appreciate you joining for her at tea.' And a slot for 3:30 sharp at the Harney & Son in SoHo.

She's there by 3:15, already at one of the tables with a pot of steeped tea and a plate of scones. Emma's dressed from the office still in an immaculately tailored white suit, which means that she's at the table reading from a tablet with her purse on the seat next to her. Her hair pulled up into a French twist and her reading glasses balanced on the tip of her nose give her a bookish quality, particularly as she primly sips every so often from the delicate tea cup in front of her.

Not a moment wasted for the waiting.

Heading into the establishment practically on time is Andrea. Today she is dressed in a brand new Versace dress of a stunning light blue color with black leggings and knee high boots. She has on a hint of makeup and a oversized jacket on to ward herself from the cold. James of course, is with her, opening the door and allowing her in while keeping an eye on any passerbys.

As she approaches the table, she offers up her smile to her, bright and sunny. "Hello Miss Frost." She says as she slides in across from her, plucking a menu up. "It's great to hear from you again."

The tablet is tucked into Emma's purse, and the glasses folded to follow suit. "I'm sure it is," Emma replies coolly, devoid of all humility. "I hope you're very much recovered from your incident?" Because she noticed, apparently, the television appearance.

She picks up her cup to cradle it with more earnestness, suspending it from her delicate fingertips as she lifts her meticulously sculpted eyebrows above sharp, ice pale eyes in anticipation of an answer from Andrea.

"I have, yes. It was an experience I do not wish to have again." Andrea says as she flags the waitress down to order some blueberry and pineapple blended tea. "Being blown up by a grenade is excruciating."

"So, what did you want to meet about? You heard about my huge twenty-first birthday bash I'm throwing this weekend and wanted an invite? You're in." She says in a playful tone. She seems to be in high spirits, even giving small bounces in the seat as if she was pent up full of energy.


The sound of it makes her sound downright matronly, the tone so flat and dry and disapproving of the notion that she would ever ask after an invitation of any sort, much less one for a 'welcome to legal drinking' party.

Emma sets down the cup in her hands, so as to reach over towards her purse. From it, she extracts one black envelope with a pitchfork embossed upon the back flap.

"I'm here to offer you an opportunity."

The envelope is set upon the table and then carefully slid in Andrea's direction. Once that's done, the telepath knits her fingers and sets her chin down upon the steeple of them as she continues to watch Andrea.

« It's a club. And not everyone gets in. But it's a place to scratch what itches without it being all over the news. And to meet other people who have the disposable income to which we are accustomed. People with power. It's a good place to have friends. »

Reaching over and taking the envelope up, Andrea's brows raise as she opens it up with a flick of her finger. « I see. » She says as she admires the black envelope. Pretty.

« What is the name of your club? Or is this more of the type that doesn't have a name and it's more of a tap along the side of the nose thing? »

Within the dark recesses of her mind, the other 'darker' presence lurks, like a pacing wolf with bright glowing eyes, watching, staring, curious, but protective.

« Is this a mutant club? » She asks curious with some hope in her voice.

« Not exclusively so, but there are some tucked here and there, out of view. »

Inside the square envelope is a red piece of fine card stock with the same pitchfork embossed upon a corner. The writing is set at an angle, so as to be like a diamond more than a square, and the writing is in bright red foil: an address on 5th Avenue and a date of the 14th. Nothing more.

« I've sponsored your initial probationary period. Three months. If you're offered full membership after that, then you'll need to cover the dues yourself. »

Dropping her gaze once more, Emma collects her cup and sips. « Anyway, think of it as an anti-Valentine's Day party. With more lingerie. »

« With more lingerie? » Andrea asks with a soft laugh in her mindscape as she gently sips at her tea once it has arrived, savoring the flavor of blueberry and pineapple mingled together. « Is that the … dress code? » She asks curiously.

She gazes at the card in her hands, turning it about to admire the foil. « I will definitely be there. Seems like a fun way to celebrate my birthday. » As she puts the card back down on the table, she looks back over towards her with a grin. « Am I allowed to tell my boyfriend? I think he'd be excited. »

Is that the dress code? « For you, it is, » Emma replies.

And then there's the matter of a boyfriend. Her lips turn down, and immediately she's filled with a certain suspicion. Her telepathy immediately is set to work, inquiring without actually asking or asking permission, to learn who said boyfriend is. But all the while, she simply smiles. It is not friendly or kind. It is strained. « If you become a full member, perhaps. The general membership prefers that things remain fairly private, you understand. »

The probing of her mind would reveal her boyfriend, Jay Guthrie. Beautiful man, large red wings, the voice of an angel. Many memories of them together in the most cutest of moments of nose rubbing, cuddling and conversations. Obviously a mutant. One that the public does not know of. Jay has been seen on her Insta and other social accounts, but always with a shirt on, no wings. He ties them back against his body and keeps them tight against him.

« For me? As in I have to show up in … my bra and undies? » Her brows lift upwards some as she lifts her mug as well, her lips curving into a grin. « Wanna go shopping? »

To Emma's credit, she doesn't show much of anything on her face as she goes about her psychic snooping. She just drinks her tea. There is only the barest twitch of her nose as she fights back a look of disgust for all of Andrea's charming, girlish memories painted golden by affection.

As in her bra and undies, asks Andrea. Emma's lift of her eyebrows and tiny shrug are the only mark - a mark to the affirmative — that Emma heard the question. But does she want to go shopping? "« Not particularly, no. » The reply is dry and matter-of-fact as Emma finishes the measure of tea in her cup.

Rising then to her feet, the CEO collects her purse. The scones are, as yet, still untouched. "I should be on my way," she continues, breaking the silence with actual words. "But do have a good afternoon, Miss Jackson, hm?"

"Oh. Okay." Andrea says as her shoulders slump a bit as it appears Emma is taking her leave. Finding mutant girl time is harder than it looks. "Well, I hope that we can hang out again sometime." Once her tea is finished, she places it down, then rises up as well, giving a long stretch of her body as she lifts up on tip toes for a moment, much like a graceful dancer working on her ankles. « At least let me know before tomorrow /what/ kind I should wear. I don't want to embarrass myself. » She pauses, then squints her eyes.

« Are you hazing me? If I show up in my undies and everyone is in full suit and ties, I'm going to wolf out and rip an arm off. »

« A corset and panties are the standard go-tos for most, but I suppose there's room for expression. » A hand flips airily. « And the women don't wear suits and ties, dear. That's only the gentlemen. »

"We'll see," Emma replies to the matter of Andrea's hopes, her tone the sort perfected by matriarchs across the globe. « And this isn't a hazing. This is the Hellfire Club. I would also highly recommend that you not threaten me. Particularly when I just presented you with a splendid opportunity. »

The telepath doesn't really wait before beginning to make her way out, the classic flared waistline accentuating the wide sway of her step as she goes. "See you tomorrow… if you're brave enough."

There is a low rumble in Andrea's throat that comes out in a feral, guttural noise as a slight grin forms over her lips. « See you tomorrow then. »

Room for expression, huh? She may as well make a first impression. As her jacket is zipped back up, she gives a nod of her head towards James who is currently working on a Sudoku puzzle in his hands, then heads for the door to exit once Emma has taken her leave.

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