Doug and Artie work the ballroom.



Over the years, Artie and Doug had worked out a variety of coded shorthands that leveraged their powers. Today, in this room, where so many had powers, Artie wasn't using his own powers to feign speech. It left him silent, relegated to the background unless or until someone spoke to him in sign - either ASL or BSL - but freed him to observe. As a minor player, he wasn't worth the effort of approaching when communication was a visible challenge.

He took a drink from one of the passing waiters and smiled briefly at the man. Doug was visible over his shoulder and the message he sent was in morse, the flicker of a reflection on glass. 3'oclock, blue. I'll need a translator. Invite me over.

The woman, one of many they had on their list to speak to was momentarily unattended.

It was a sort of running joke that Doug liked to think of himself as Batman - hyper prepared, utilizing more 'baseline' physical abilities in a world of superstrength and laser eyes and such. But in these sorts of situations, socializing and politicking, schmoozing and trying to learn more about the other person than they revealed... Well, at these times Doug often pulled out his best 'Bruce Wayne' impression - semi-vapid socialite who was there to look pretty, make inane conversation, and not let anyone suspect he was a very different person outside the glitzy spotlight.

He swanned up effortlessly to the mark, a champagne flute in each hand. "Katherine, darling. There's someone here you absolutely -must- meet. I took the liberty of refreshing your..." He pressed one of the flutes into her hand and motioned Artie over. "Ah, here he is. Lady Katherine, I'd like to introduce you to-" He made to sign something with the hand holding the second flute, then frowned as it almost tumbled out of his hand. "Oh, bother. Katherine, would you be a lamb and-" He passed the second flute to her, a move designed to put her ever so slightly off balance by way of invisible social expectations.

"As I was saying, I'd like to introduce you to the Red Court's ambassador, M. Maddox." He inclined his head to Artie as he signed out an introduction to the woman whose name they both already knew, as if to say 'you drive, I'll keep her off balance'.

From somewhere off to the side, someone made a huff. "Of -course- Ramsey's fluent in sign," they muttered. "Boytoy without two brain cells to rub together, but..." The gripe faded off as the person moved away from the conversation.

Darcy and Sue discuss the HFC.



The smile Darcy graced Sue with as they took a turn around the room was small but genuine. "How are you enjoying the glamour of the storied Paris branch?" It's a softball question, an easy way to offer direct or backhanded compliments to the listening ears of the other party goers, and with any luck they'll just be two pretty, well-connected socialites from States. Arm candy in polite vernacular, but as she'd gathered from New York events, those inside the walls of the Hellfire Club weren't always so polite in their words, often to their own detriment.

She listened with half an ear after asking the question, just enough to keep the thread of conversation going while the rest of her mind focused on the words of those around them. Contacts just a few shades darker than her normal color had become part of her normal routine, the only thing other than dark sunglasses able to hide the hint of neon that indicated her link to a piece of tech. These days, a tendril of her mind was always wrapped around a light link to part of her personal tech. Tonight it wrapped around a connection to the tablet in her hotel room, shunting conversations and overheard tidbits into a file for further analysis at a later date.

There was always a pulse to these kind of social gatherings, like the movements of a dance as individuals formed little clusters of conversation before drifting on to the next group, driven by the currents of social and business imperatives. If you stood back far enough, watched carefully the movement of people around the room was a treasure trove of information. Those in power tended to draw others into their orbit, those seeking a deal of favour would drift between these nexi, and the way they did would tell you what they were after. political, social, business, the movement of people was a map, and like any other if you knew how to read it a boundless depth of information was yours to examine. It was an old trick that her grandmother had taught her at one of the interminable galas and events her father and grandfather had dragged her off to. After all, no-one expected much of the eye candy aside from staying out of the way. No-one even gave them a second glance.

"They certainly know how to put on a show," Sue's answering smile was bright, filled with her usual energy as her blue eyes danced over the room. She'd already spotted 3 ceos paying court to the investors and bankers in the room. 3 ceos who would no doubt come to regret the fact they'd failed to pay attention to the young women chatting in the corner. "I've always preferred the English branch to be honest, it's got that old school understated thing which you know, is the kinda thing you can't find anywhere else."

"Spectacle has always been a hallmark of our darling Paris," Darcy answered lightly in response, inclining her head just slightly at a fellow avocat she recognized from a conference in Prague. Her work as herself during the latter half of the year had been a different sort of moving and shaking, quietly shaping policy without necessarily being at the forefront of any of it. Whispers in ears and careful questions during cocktail hours, the quiet handover of a card between sessions. It had felt wonderful to both flex her abilities and be genuinely appreciated for them. "Perhaps for the best they no longer recognize a monarch. I'm not keen to see the workings of the guillotine up close or personal. I've not had the opportunity or need to visit England's branch yet, though perhaps that might change after tonight. Ah, but perhaps to other topics?"

She took a set of flutes from a passing waiter, offering one to Sue while taking a sip of her own. "How have you and Miss Abbott been? I confess to being quite out of the loop for local gossip, given how travel-packed my schedule has been this year."

Slim fingers swirled the flute, watching the champagne shift, forming a small whirlpool that caught the bubbles, creating a prism which sent patterns of coloured light dancing over the young woman's arm. "We've been fine, she's busy with her career and settling in here, which she's doing wonderfully. And I'm busy with work, so it seems to work out somehow. It's nice that we end up being able to dance through the same circles, the extra support's always nice. And how about you? It certainly sounds like you've been busy this year."

"The work never ends," was Darcy's easy reply. It had the benefit of being true without being the entire truth, a thing she'd come to appreciate over the dance of the twelve Darcys she'd put on this year, faces and hair and passport color changing with each flight and quiet, endless nights in rooms and locations that were never her own. The haughty smile her mind automatically glued to her face after her more genuine greeting stayed fixed in place as they continued to circulate. "It is always lovely to know you have that support," she acknowledged, mind flitting back to spring and the way Kevin had fit into the rhythm of the family farm. He'd charmed her gran as readily as she'd hoped he might, offering to sweep the elderly woman away to Vegas or the beach in a way that'd made her laugh. "I am very glad you've found someone who seems to complement you so well, and wish you both the best while navigating the elevated playing field. The game does gain a certain... intensity... at the upper echelons."

Darcy spoke with all of the assuredness of someone seasoned in the embattled halls of the world's Hellfire Courts instead of a mere ambassador to the proceedings, though her actual knowledge relied on a myriad of things that were mostly not her own first-hand understanding. Observing, certainly. Old mission reports. Questions to Kevin during the training that let her circulate so easily through these halls. Conversation with a few people outside the mansion that did have that first-hand knowledge. Her smile never wavered, but there was something dark in her eyes as she watched the blonde over the rim of her champagne glass. "If you ever need someone who... well. If you ever need a chat, I know where the good sipping stuff is located, and I also know a few mixes that will have you regret waking up after the inevitable blackout. All you need do is ask."

"I might just take you up on that," Sue allowed, her blue eyes dancing around the crowd around them as the rich and powerful dignitaries swirled through the floor almost dancing around them. "To be honest, I'd always avoided the club, not for any real reason, I just already interact with people in this circle so much I never really saw the advantage of it. My Grandfather sometimes attends, though it's my gran who really loves the politicking around here." The blonde was successful in her chosen field, thanks in no small part to the teaching of her father and grandfather, but her real education had come at the hands of her grandmother in small things like a book club or party to massive corporate and social events. "Helping them though, and watching Hope, I might have misjudged it a little." A small sip of champagne before she settled her gaze on her friends face, "You know, if you ever need to talk too, or just need to talk at someone I'm here as well right. Gotta have each other's back right?"

"I think that's true for many. There's a... stodginess to the proceedings, much like the storied British clubs that only allow the most powerful of men. Slow to change, but so powerful their adaptation isn't always immediately necessary. When you circulate in the legal and business circles we do and gain their respect... sometimes the back room access is a little less necessary. A bonus, rather than a need." Occasionally a very nice bonus, but she was doing fine with just the occasional glimpses behind the curtain of wealth and power, despite not being born into either. Kevin had been a significant help with that, letting her emulate Nora's charm and coolness without completely shedding herself of the parts that made her Darcy. She winked at Sue in acknowledgement, and took a moment to gather her words so she could keep her voice light and accepting. "My past relationship never would've been openly acknowledged in these circles, because it would jar what everybody knows." Her lips pursed. "What everyone thinks they know, and the illusion they prefer to maintain. I wasn't part of that. I would never have been allowed to be part of it. Your journey will be different." Darcy sounded very certain as she made the statement. "Hope doesn't have the decades of illusion to shed, and you already know these circles."

"Sometimes jarring the circles open can be part of the fun, honestly it's kinda nice showing up to some event or gala and kissing Hope while I'm there just to see those stodgy old men stutter and have an apoplexy." The blonde took a sip of her champagne for a moment as she nodded her head at Darcy, "I guess it does help coming at it from a different angle, I'm sorry they were so tough to you though. But, it's made you even more awesome and formidable. Like you said, sometimes they just don't seem to understand that they're being left behind, but then I guess that people like them, like us, are so used to the world conforming to them that it doesn't really hit them as hard." It's something she'd never really thought about before, how different life could have been for her in a different situation.

"I doubt that would raise eyebrows here, given what goes on in these halls. I believe the shock lies more in those that choose not to glut themselves on the available excesses." Less of it tonight than she'd seen at other times, the halls filled with the wealthy and powerful choosing to exert influence rather than slip away and lose themselves in the Club's many pleasures. "Nobody was particularly tough. I fit the look. I've learned when to give a polite smile and murmur of assent while appearing to completely miss any nuance or hidden meanings. I simply found some of the necessary fiction to be... chafing." Among other reasons, but you could never guess who was listening. Possibly even recording. So Darcy talked carefully around the particulars of that doomed romance. She exchanged her empty champagne flute for something fizzy and pale red, giving it a careful sniff before taking a sip. "Hm, pomegranate. As to formidable... I would have to give my mentor the credit for that. The bar is set in ways that make me wish to rise to the occasion."

Sue tilted her flute in Darcy's direction, "Our mentors help to set a bar, give us something to work on and a push to get started but not everyone is capable of running with it or learning those lessons. I love my brother but he'd rather be off enjoying the excesses of pleasure available here than playing the games of power, despite the same lessons as me." A small shrug as she took a sip of her champagne. "Being able to survive in this world is hard enough, but to be able to learn the lessons and thrive without the inherent advantage of growing up here, that's what makes you formidable."

Darcy laughed as her mind flashed to the known antics of the hotshot, a low chuckle that didn't gain more than the briefest glances from those nearby. "Your brother plays the game in his own way. It can be terribly fruitful if you're inclined, but if he just wants to have fun... he'll still do fine. He's a smart, handsome man with money. They tend to land on their feet. Should he need some help landing on his feet... well. He has a brilliant sister who has a savvy partner and excellent contacts in multiple fields. Say the word and I'm sure the armada can be launched." She tilted her flute in a return to Sue's salute and pressed her arm against the blonde's with a featherlight touch. "I'm very glad we were able to take a few minutes to catch up, but I just saw one of my acquaintances from Hong Kong. Go help your partner dazzle them with her brilliance, and hopefully we can have lunch soon?"

She gave Sue a quick wink before slipping into the crowd, black dress and dark hair mingling and blending into the other colors until Darcy was no longer visible.

Amanda connects with Clea about her intel gathering.



Amanda drifted through the glittering crowds, balancing a silver tray of canapes and pausing every so often to offer them to someone. It was a strange position she was in, invisible and yet not, disregarded for the most part except if she stayed too long or some drunken git decided to cop a feel. Conversations drifted around her and she filed away various useful pieces for later. Then she came across a familiar red head and stopped behind her. "Canape, mademoiselle?"

The conversations flowed and Clea found herself in the midst of all kinds of conversations throughout the evening. Nothing that was warrant concern at the present moment only, the excitement of the Courts all coming together and what kind of events they had in store. She excused herself to look for others who may be talking more about potential after parties. Turning her head to hear a familiar voice, "Oui. Merci." She took one of the canape and turned to look back at the crown. "Anything?" Clea whispered, holding the canape to her lips.

"Mostly hot goss about who might be in the running, plus who is sleeping with who and who might be using a glamour tonight." Amanda offered Clea a napkin with her other hand, lips barely moving as she replied in the same low tones. "The usual bitching, who is sleeping with who, who's using a glamour tonight, that sort of thing."

Taking the napkin with her free hand, "About the same. Many are speculating on who will be the next royalty." She took a bite and nodded in the direction of a small group of people, "That group holds the most influence and are in the running." Clea was already trying to figure out how to get herself into that conversation.

"Tell you what... I'll go over and distract them with the horse's doovers and you can come join in once I'm done?" Amanda had found the serving tray great for opening spaces in closed groups. "I'll have to move on soon any way if we don't want to draw attention."

"Sounds like a plan." Clea watched the group, "I'll follow your lead."

Topaz reports in to Marie-Ange.



The 'staff' bathroom was actually quite nice, even as much as it was in the back past the kitchens and down a hallway. Close enough that the staff did not have to run, far enough that guests wouldn't see anyone who actually earned their paycheques, unless they wanted to.

Marie-Ange had delivered a round of perfect canapes, including one to Topaz, and then disappeared into the back, utterly anonymous in her tight bun and waitstaff uniform, and unlike earlier, with the most neutral smile on her face. Not a single hint of 'I may stab someone today', despite her idle chatter in the back of the house.

She dropped off her empty tray, made her excuses about 'les toilettes' and ducked herself into the bathroom, pulling out a near-empty pack of cigarettes - borrowed from her cousin - lit one, crushed it out on the sink almost immediately, and leaned against the tiled wall - a very picture of waitstaff on a muchly needed smoke break, complete with one shoe off and rubbing the arch of her foot against the stiff leather of the shoe.

Topaz took the canape with a polite smile, still locked in a conversation about... something. The other person didn't really want to talk - just rant to a captive audience that would sometimes "hmm" and "oh" and "you don't say" in all the right places. She waited long enough to eat the canape, found a good place to excuse herself from the conversation and stepped away. Luckily most people were too busy to notice the tiny woman winding through the crowd, and anyone who did would suddenly find themselves very interested in something else. Anything else.

"Bloody hell," she breathed as she stepped into the bathroom, twisting the lock behind her. "Of all the people I thought I'd meet here, 'intensely passionate about Notre Dame architecture' is not one of them."

"Do not jinx it!" Marie-Ange said - nearly a desperate hiss. "It is only just re-opened." She could have also talked Topaz's ear off about it - and if it could be helped, was going to be taking a day to see if after all this. "If anyone comes in, we are going to pretend I am helping you get a stain off that jacket." She produced a miniature stain stick remover from the apron pocket the cigarettes had been in. "Smoked soy stains ever so much."

"Right, sorry." There was only a mild hint of sarcasm in the apology. "There isn't much to report, honestly. So far I've heard complaints about the government, the economy, global politics... I guess I have a good listening face."

"Everyone complains. That is where the information is." Marie-Ange said. "Navigate me through the complaints. What stood out, who seemed more irate than you might expect, or out of place from their normal focus?"

Topaz ran through everything in her head, trying to pick out the ones that had seemed like more than a passing thought. "There's a lot of talk about one bloke who disappeared for about three months. Agreement seems to be that he was in an American prison doing time for wire fraud."


Marie-Ange hopped up on top of the counter, and rolled the stain stick over her knuckles. "Nothing related to our library for him though, yes?"

"Not that I can tell. Seems like he owes a lot of people money, though."

Felicia and Hope share a brief pause in the festivities.



"Taking a quick breather as well?" Hope glided up towards Felicia, her silk cape whispering behind her. Accepting a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, she sipped delicately. "I believe I have seen just as many careful questions and delicate barbs aimed your way as I received... your legacy status definitely is drawing their attention."

Felicia laughed, a soft private thing, and tilted her head. A curled tendril of her hair fell slightly forward with the motion and she pushed it aside with the pinkie of her hand holding her own champagne glass. "There's only so many ways you can dodge certain questions without pushing vibrant woman, so much like her grandmama, into just plain rude."

"You look lovely," she added with a half smile and quick up-down look.

"Thank you. Your gown is quite eye-catching as well." Hope quickly demurred the compliment with a nod, her hand reaching up to touch her new moonstone and diamond necklace and earrings. "So your grandmother was a member of the Silver Court? I heard a few whispers about her... let us say... formidable personality? Apparently she knows how to make an impression." Translate 'scare the bejesus out of certain men'.

"Something like that," Felicia replied, giving a grin and encouraging nod to David who seemed trapped into conversation with what early media would only describe as "that willowy brunette". "I'm still fairly certain someone got chatting with her during one of her mad money market jaunts and based the whole Mad Men stenopool on her stories."

Felicia turned her shoulder slightly, coming closer to Hope and dislodging the approaching unwanted company. "I'm going to probably pretend I have no idea what you're talking about when we're back home, though, I hope you understand."