A Night With the Hellfire Club

[Josh Dalton Worthington]

Emma Frost steps from conversation to conversation, all the while making her way to her intended targets. Her mind darts in and out, always ahead of her.

Because of this, Josh's glance strays from Warren in her direction for a time. A tall, blonde woman approaches them, with a beatific look on her face, clothed entirely in white. She was shockingly beautiful. However, the fact he'd been feeling her systematically combing everyone's brain with her telepathy since he walked in the door was more of an immediate interest. It was obvious the woman wasn't accustomed to disguising the use of her powers in the prescence of other telepaths. She'd veered wide of him and Warren, as soon as his own telepathic talents had registered in her mind.

Though his own powers were very much in the 'toddler' stage, he had an instinctive wariness for her. This woman's mental signature reminded him of an asp - slinking through the shadows, biting with her poisonous fangs - and then it was too late.

"My, don't all of you look impressive tonight! Thank you for coming to our little gathering." She brushes imperceptibly at her gown. "You're from the Institute, correct?" Josh nods, trying to bury his reservations.

"Good to see you here, Mr. Worthington. I know we've only met briefly before this." She extends a hand in Warren's direction. "Would you care to introduce me to your charming friends?" She sweeps the other hand carelessly, but it is obvious she's talking specifically about Josh. As she does this, Emma reaches out, greeting Josh telepathically. <Emma Frost, my dear. Please call me Emma.>

He greets her back, reaching out cautiously with his powers. <Nice to meet you, Emma.> Josh takes a step closer to Warren, which makes him feel more comfortable. What's she looking for?

[Pyro]

Entertaining as skulking on the sidelines is, the new arrival necessitates a hasty retreat on Pyro’s part, because no matter how dapper Sherridan is looking he’s still a git, his starkly courteous greeting just one more in a list of irritations which have no real cause but are only more irksome because of that. He briefly considers talking to Wanda, but her choice of companion puts the nix on that pretty quickly (fuck… knowing that the younger team members are here is bad enough, but the adults too? Nightmare, regardless of this so-called neutrality) and in any case it seems to be an unspoken rule that he’s never the one to do the approaching. The chick in the white leather is also initially promising, but there’s something about the way she holds herself, and the way people who actually belong here do themselves when they’re around her, which suggests that that’s not the best plan either.

He’d forgotten the *joy* of socials, these peculiar rituals of the sinjun division… and hell, they’re far worse now that he’s no longer young enough for any minor slip-up to be put down to childishness, or under the tutelage of someone whose discipline doesn’t revolve around finding interesting uses for mundane metallic objects. What the hell do people do at these things? Networking isn’t really an option, is it? He’d have no idea how, even if it was. Buffet table it is, then, because at the very least he can entertain himself trying to guess what’s edible and what’s either modern art or some bizarre genetic experiment. He mumbles something about getting something to eat, not that anyone would particularly care (because despite being technically *with* the Brotherhood it’s clear anyone who couldn’t have gotten in without that mass invite is merely set dressing tonight), and heads off.

It’s one of the great things about Halloween, the bizarreness of it all. Where else would you find Sam Spade eating dinner with Batman? Of course, this has a whole new level of weirdness tagged on underneath that… because there’s something (almost literally) painfully familiar about this Caped Crusader, all the little things no one else would be in a position (ahem. Neither the time nor the place for thinking about that, Allerdyce) to know. He shouldn’t say or do anything, of course, but there’s no way anyone could know, and the costumes provide one more layer of armor… and besides, this is meant to be a neutral night, so in the spirit of that it’s practically compulsory that he makes polite conversation, right?

”Of all the gin joints in all the world, Drake...” He doesn’t look up, his voice is never raised above the level fitting a casual remark or shifted from deadpan. ”Nice Batsuit”

[theonavarro]

Jubilee walked in around 20 minutes after the rest of them did, her "little Bo peep" hoop skirt had gotten tangled in her cane and she had to stop outside to fix it. She didn't really know why she was here, but everyone else at the Institute seemed to be going, so she decided to tag along.

Jubilee had heard things about the Hellfire Club... She hated to admit it, but she felt intrigued... The Institute was becoming very strange lately, she felt out of place, like she was the only one who wasn't;t adapting to the major changes in the once grand Xavier Institute. The Hellfire club seemed more... appealing to her.

Jubilee walked into the ballroom, her pink and silver southern-belle skirt and cap matched her frilly dress, she was holding a silver painted cane with a pink ribbon tied round the top, just before the cane looped. Jubilee was wearing a pink and silver mask (everything was colour coordinated... a fashionista needed to look good at moments like these) and her hair was put up in ringlets. She put small sparkling fireworks in her hair and around various parts of her body before coming in, she wanted to make a grand entrance and a good impression of the Hellfire Club members... She wasn't;t sure why she wanted them to think highly of her... well, she DID know, but refused to admit that she was being tempted to the age old "dark side".

Jubilee walked down the stairs, head high, shoulders following suit, she had a silver and pink sheep-shaped purse,w ell not exactly, it was pretty flat, but still, the sheep image came out loud and clear. Jubilee saw the gang standing by themselves talking, and decided to walk over.

"Hi-ya guys!"

[Bobby Drake]

The buffet is really something… though what, Bobby’s not entirely certain, since he can hardly recognize half the stuff on the table. The salty black stuff is caviar, he figures… he’s not so sure about the red stuff next to it, though. He mostly contents himself with the items he can name, all marvelously good, with the occasional foray into unknown territory.

Except you really didn’t come here to eat, did you? The idea had been to find people who’d help deal with the Camps. Which sounded great, back when he’d gotten in the limo, but now that he’s looking around the room and trying to figure out who to approach how, he realizes how completely unqualified he is for this. And, unlike some things, he can’t just go on gut instinct here. How do people do this?

He watches Ororo for a while as he nibbles on some staggeringly pungent cheese. She seems pretty good at this, casually chatting people up and moving on… it’s not really clear what she’s accomplishing, though. Maybe nothing? Except, hell, it’s Ororo, she’s got to have some goal in mind… she’s not just here to have fun. But damned if I can figure out what she’s doing.

Meanwhile, Warren and Josh are chatting up some important (and hot!) looking blond woman, and he considers joining them… Warren’s pretty good at this sort of thing too, he figures, and might be educational. Except he can’t quite bring himself to step away from the buffet table, like it’s some kind of emotional safe zone.

> " Of all the gin joints in all the world, Drake... nice Batsuit "

So much for “safe zone.” The voice is unmistakable, and Bobby looks around furtively to see if anyone else from the Institute is in earshot. (A rather pointless activity, really. The entire building might be in earshot for Warren, and most of Manhattan is in “earshot” for Josh, and really he might as well just give up on any notion of privacy. No wonder people get creeped out about mutants!)

It’s weird… somehow running into him here, in public, is scary and exciting and real in new and different ways. Not that their previous, um, interactions have been unreal, exactly… or maybe they have been? It makes less sense to Bobby the more he thinks about it; like he’s trying to reconcile two unrelated parts of his own head, and eventually he just gives up and moves on.

"Thanks," he says, trying to sound casual. He looks John over carefully, unsure what to make of his costume. "Humphrey Bogart?"

> "Hi-ya guys!"

Distracted by the greeting, Bobby looks up, then waves. "Hey, Jubes… nice sheep you got there. I thought they were supposed to be lost, though?"

[Warren Worthington III]

> " Good to see you here, Mr. Worthington. I know we've only met briefly before this. Would you care to introduce me to your charming friends? "

Warren shakes her hand with a friendly smile. "It’s lovely to be here, Ms. Frost… and I’m sorry I haven’t had the chance to visit, especially after your generous scholarship offers. And yes, of course I’d be delighted to… they’re all schoolmates, except Ms. Monroe of course. " Underneath his superficial charm he’s uncertain… does she already know Josh’s name? Of course she does, he realizes, if he recognized him as from the Institute at all.

He’d forgotten Emma’s knack for seeming to know everything. There were rumors she was a telepath, like Professor Xavier… on the other hand, there were rumors that she bathed nightly in the blood of virgin boys. Rumors aren’t the most reliable sources of information, and Warren suspects the Hellfire Club spreads them intentionally, just to bolster their reputation; certainly they make little effort to squelch them.

"This is Joshua Dalton; Josh, this is Emma Frost, one of the…" he hesitates, not quite sure how to describe the Hellfire Club’s Inner Circle politely, and finally settles for "…one of our hosts this evening. You’ve outdone yourselves, ma’am… this is quite an event!"

Warren is slightly surprised by Josh’s reaction to Emma… not that he minds Josh moving closer, but he’s responding like she’s some kind of dangerous animal. Which, he reminds himself, she certainly can be, but she can be a useful business partner as well.

Which reminds him… she might very well be the person to talk to about getting official support for investigating the Camps, since everything else he’s tried has fallen flat. There would be a price, of course… but perhaps one worth paying.

He looks around for a second to spot Bobby, but he’s chatting with someone. He makes a mental note to introduce them and to ride herd on the resulting conversation… for all of the boy’s eagerness to push the political end of this operation, he’s going to need some backup when playing in this league. Heck, I’m going to need backup. But one thing at a time.

[Warren Worthington III]

(( OOC: I'm going to give the socializing aspect of this thread another few days to get going, and let folks who want to join do so, before kicking off the Emma/Jason Personality Frotzer, probably Monday morning EST. Anyone who wants to sidebar pre-Frotzer conversations feel free to spawn off a thread after that.))

[Larza]

This place, albeit fancy, doesn't hold a candle to some of the gatherings she's been to. Granted, no one knew she'd been to those, but still, she'd been there, and seen things, and she knew what she was doing.

Dressed in a long black dress, a seperate cowl shadowing her face, and a long scythe in one hand, she's supposed to look like a grim reaper, of sorts - something she finds highly amusing, with her current occupation. What with the gown's low neckline, and the fairly formal style to it, and the over-abundance of jewelry adorning her wrists and neck and ears, it's definetly a new dake on Death, and one she finds very fitting.

She's mingling with a crowd and flirting coyly with some guy - she doesn't know who, because she can't see his face, but she does know he's old and ugly, and that this is pointless. He's not getting anywhere, and it's obvious. She excuses herself, and wanders off, lifting the hem of her dress so she doesn't step on it.

It's a large cword. She's lucky she got in - her invitation was due to having done a few jobs for the Club awhile back. She's not a regular member/accomplice, or whatever, but she's done services, so they'd been nice enough to invite her.

Which gives her oppertunity to have some fun, which is nice, and maybe scope out futre employers. Empathy was helpful in large crowds like this one, and she has it extended, lurking over certian people. Emma Frost, for one, because Larza doesn't trust the woman - too devious for her own dang good. Emma's talking to some people over to one side, and Larza's almost-shadowed silver eyes lock onto the two. Familliar, almost...

She ''hm'''s under her breath, but does nothing else, for now, moving to the buffet, where, at one end, there's a small cluster of people. She doesn't move towards them, however, because what she's eyeing, the small chocolate things over there, that look suspisciously like chocolate covered coffee beans, are at the other end. Ooh, and they are. She grins to herself, leaning her scythe against the table to get one of the small plates.

[Rogue]

As a woman in white moves their direction, Rogue slips off before she speaks to them. Now seems a good time to get some of that cake she'd seen. Lovely excuse for not wanting to talk to random people she doesn't know.

As she moves towards the table, she notes that Bobby and Jubilee are with someone else, and seem to be sorta-conversing with him. As she nears, the angle of her position in comparison to his hat allows her to see his face, and she grins to herself. John, here? Well, she should have somehow guessed that the Brotherhood would end up here, but...still, it's a bit of a surprise.

And the three of them right here, together? A little uncomfortable, somehow, since it used to be like a little circle - John, Bobby, and herself, inspeerable, a special little bond they'd somehow formed dispite the differing personalities. Now...it's different, but still, somehow, lingering there.

It's odd, but she doesn't know how she should greet him, specifically. Bobby, she's already greeted tonight, and a smile/wave combo works for Jubes, but John...she hasn't seen him in awhile, and...it's just complicated.

She settles for a murmured "hey", and a smile. She knows he'll recognize her - the hair's a dead giveaway - but she's just...not sure what's going to happen, here. At all. She busies herself with getting a piece of the cake that's all but dripping with chocolate.

[Pyro]

< Humphrey Bogart?[/color]
John raises an eyebrow, looking at Bobby sidelong. It’s tempting to make some disparaging remark about Bobby’s lack of culture (the literary sphere being the only one where he’s at anything like an advantage... not that he’d ever admit to that) but he’d rather it’s much more embarrassing, of course, to play it the other way, seeing as how Bobby’s so charmingly endearingly hilariously embarrassed at how they’re daring to talk to each other in front of – oh my god! – other people. ”If you like” are the words which come out, but in everything other than that minor detail he’s saying Whoever you want me to be with a shrug, a grin and a mischievous glint.

He’s not immune to the effects of appearing *together* like this (though they’re not really together at all, even he’s not deluded or masochistic enough to think they can risk appearing as any sort of item), the bizarre excited-nervous-panic which has taken hold of Bob catching him as well, though he’s firmly on the *hyper-excited* rather than *scared* side. But he can’t think of any way of communicating that without leaving himself wide open (or, perhaps more importantly within the skewed world of teen-boy, looking like a total idiot) and returns his attentions instead to the *food*… Even after closer inspection, the use of that word can only be in the very loosest sense (he vaguely remembers being told that there were no naturally occurring blue foods… so what the hell is that?)… Okay, so that’s a seriously crap starter, but it’s something at least. Can’t go wrong passing comment on the…

< Hi-ya guys!
Fuck

John doesn’t exactly cower, and there’s a fair argument (one he’s planning on using as much as possible) that drawing himself deeper into the trench coat is merely staying in character. Ditto tilting down the fedora and generally trying to be invisible. Jubilee can’t have recognized him, can she? Fiery little chica like her, there’s no way she’d be that friendly…

It’s not just the definitely-not-fear which makes him so consciously abrasive… because despite his better instincts there’s something that’s becoming rapidly pissed off at the prospect of having to share Bobby (and he wonders where that came from, and is sort of secretly strangely pleased by it…) because admitting someone else to their conversation removes the option of even the strange subtext-ual understanding and casualness which might otherwise have passed beneath it, and he doesn’t want to have to act all *Pyro-ish*… so he settles for glowering and being generally unnoticeable while they make small talk, until something else grabs his attention.

< ”Hey”
Godsend!

Sure, having Rogue (because it’s got to be her, no mistaking it) around him and Bobby is a whole ‘nother sort of gloriously awkward, but he knows where he stands with her after that chance encounter at Mimi’s and any connection is better than none, right? John returns the smile, and after alerting Bob through a subtle cutting out for a moment tilt and giving Jubilee one of those so-false-friendly-it-might-as-well-be-a-glare grins he shifts so he’s repositioned himself over next to her.

”Hey”

[Robin Wesley]

Robin eyes the various clusters around the room: the high-profile businessmen (who can't quite hide their arrogance behind masks), a few Institute students gathered around the dessert table, the politicians who can't stop talking about scandal, their wives who can't stop gossiping (what was the point of these masks??), and the rest of the Institute kids were over by the door with Ms. Frost. Robin is almost tempted to join them, but as absolutely nice and pleasant and friendly as Ms. Frost had been, something else in her wanted to run far away from the woman.

One of the pumpkin vines tightens on her arm, and Robin sighs. Bringing the vines had been great as an idea, but the actual act was turning out to be a lot less cool. Pumpkin vines were simpler, and they loves growing and stretching out, and didn't like their growth being paused by Robin's mutation. They wanted to keep growing. It's a good thing, she thinks, I have them under control. Controlling more than one vine had been her goal for weeks, and now she may finally be getting the hang of it.

Deciding that standing in the corners was pointless now that she has finished her snacks, Robin eyes up possible socializing circles. It seems tension is everywhere in the room. The group of students by the buffet table are standing awkwardly, and the person in the trenchcoat makes Robin feel slightly uncomfortable. That left the group at the front door, where Ms. Frost looks to be engaging Josh and Warren in conversation. It is a starting point, at least, and Robin heads in that direction.

[Rogue]

He smiles in return - doesn't scowl, like she'd almost expected - and moves over to stnd next to her. ”Hey”[/color]

"How are ya, Sugah?" she questions quietly, glancing at him a moment, meeting his eyes only briefly, before lowering them back to the plate in her hand.

This uncomfortable feeling is almost foregin to her - she never used to be like this around him. Heck, even last time she saw him, it wasn't like this, most of the time, if at all. So why?

She's only staring down a moment before she corrects her eyes' position, and looks back at him. No reason she should be acting shy - he's John, and she's not going to act like she's bashful, becuause she's not, not really.

"Who're y' s'posed t'be?" she adds as an afterthought, tipping her head slightly to one side with a smile.

[Magneto]

Erik mingled and watched the others of the Brotherhood as they moved in and out of the social groupings for the evening. The junior X-squad was already at the buffet table, wasting no time and following in suit was Pyro. Erik let it all go for tonight was a night of neutrality and Sebastian was a well known stickler for that. Erik himself had stood toe to toe with Sebastian Shaw before, but in a purely politically manner and while Erik clearly held the better of Sebastian from a mutant view point, Sebastian had unlimited resources and ways to deal with Erik socially.

So far so good and the evening was going quite well, no awkward meetings or stand offs, just playful and political sparring here and there and tempers seemed to be holding up quite well. Erik looked up as he felt someone slinking about his mind, "Miss Frost," he said quietly to himself as he casually looked around for her, spying her as she moved about the young group of X-Men. Her telepathy was legendary to those who knew her true nature, but Erik was a skilled mutant in his own right and while he couldn't totally keep her out of his mind if she wished to poke about forcefully, he could put up enough walls to keep her out for a while. Of course, Emma wasn't the only femme fatale to catch his eye and being dressed almost as provocative as Emma was Erik's very own daughter, Wanda Maximoff.

Erik gave a heavy sigh and rested both hands on the head of the cane he leaned against. He watched Wanda as she made a direct line for one of Charles Xavier's more promising pupils, Ororo Munroe, other wise known as Storm. He couldn't help but wonder what the two women could be discussing but he had a feeling it had something to do with him and the X-Men. Of course, Erik's moment of thought was interrupted by Sherridan, whom Erik figured would be here with his own invite. The feral mutant's name and money was a sure fire attraction for the Hellfire Club. "I was dealing with the Hellfire Club long before you could even talk mister Kaine," Magneto said with a slight smile as he kept his gaze on Wanda and Storm.

[theonavarro]

Jubilee looked from Bobby to Rogue to... the other guy... Wait... was that JOHN??? Jubilee wasn't sure, a puzzled look appeared on her masked and madeup face... She looked into his eyes and knew... it WAS John!

"So... John..." she mumbled, "How've you been?"

Things were starting to get kind of uncomfortable... Bobby, Rogue and John... she felt like she was intruding or something...

[Sherridan Kaine]

Sherridan pauses for a moment, just to make sure that his feline temper doesn't flare at an inconvenient situation as this, and then smiles again. "I apologize if I have insulted you, those words just didn't come out right. What I meant was that I didn't expect you actually paying attention to the invitation, considering everything." he explains, realizing that this didn't sound any better.

Shit.

"A rather pleasant environment for the party, don't you think?" he says, glancing over the illustrious decorations. Of course, his glance reveals the group of younger people swarming around the buffet. Why those people come to parties of such caliber just to get stuffed with all the food they can eat, I will never know., but then he remembers about the beautiful hostess, and her...talents.

Of course, Sherridan could attempt to block her mind from seeing his real thoughts, but that would mean entering a feral state, which isn't appropriate for any indoors activity, except maybe an all out death match. He cannot feel her in his mind, but both his instincts and knowledge of the Hellfire Club assure him that she's there, in everyone's head.

[Josh Dalton Worthington]

“Pleased to meet you, Joshua. And welcome to our little event.”

> … this is quite an event!

“It’s nothing much, really.” Emma smiles benignly. “I’m glad you’re all enjoying it.” Emma is tempted to see check just how truthful young Worthington is being at the moment, but contents herself with sliding stealthily around the odd mental link in his head. Foolish! You’ve allowed your love for this boy to weaken your own defenses. And there certainly was a sexual connection within the bond, as well. Hm. Perhaps you would follow ‘Warr’ wherever he went, boy. Telepaths who allowed such connections to form received her disdain.

Perhaps it’s not wise to push her luck - even if this Joshua is not fully trained, given their mental link, he would detect her manipulations. And certainly tell his lover, spoiling things. People tended to take a dim view on that sort of intrusion without permission, a fact which utterly puzzles her.

“Please, make yourselves at home. I must greet some other guests, but the four of us must sit down for a chat sometime soon.” She lets Worthington figure that one out for the rest of the night, and takes her leave of them, shooting a dazzling smile in her wake.

As soon as Frost has disappeared into the eddies of the huge crowd, Josh locks eyes with Warren, and takes his hand tightly. “That woman… she’s dangerous. And she’s a telepath, Warr. She’s been sifting people’s brains since we walked in the door - soon as she detected me she jumped back from the two of us.”

After a minute, he squeezes the hand lightly. “Should we go get something to eat? I’ve starving!” He grins, back to his enthusiastic self.

Josh traces a finger across one of Warren's fake horns. "You know, that body stocking leaves little to my imagination..." <...Not that I need it.> He arches an eyebrow suggestively and begins heading toward the buffet tables.