ngm_hellfire: (Sebastian Shaw)
The Hellfire Club ([personal profile] ngm_hellfire) wrote in [community profile] nextgenerationmarvel2013-12-07 10:32 pm

A Grand Soiree [Open to anyone with potential business at the NYC branch of the Hellfire Club]


"There hasn't been a party like this in years at this location, has there?" Sebastian turned towards Tessa, or rather, the clone of her that Essex had made for him. It was true, though, there was an energy in the old place that hadn't been seen ever since before he died for the first time. They didn't know yet, that he would take this moment to make his reemegence into the public eye, but there were rumours that there would be a grand surprise.

"No, sir. Attendance at the New York branch's soirees has been declining for some years." Tessa replied crisply. He wondered, vaguely, what the original Tessa would think of this pitch-perfect copy of her. As for Tessa's part, she was aware of Sage's existence and regarded it as nothing more than a vague curiosity.

Sebastian continued to watch guests filing in through the cameras at the command centre he'd installed some years ago beneath the halls of the Hellfire Club.

"What about my would-be heirs?" Sebastian spoke with a faint sneer. Disappointing as they were in many ways, they were his family. His legacy. They would have to do. He couldn't have another Shinobi on his hands.

"I expect they will both attend. I've spotted Stephanie, but but Alistaire as of yet." Tessa replied again.

"Good. And others have been invited too. The Braddock and the Worthington girls." Sebastian turned again towards the monitors. "Keep a close eye on the witch, would you? I won't have her ruining my night."

"Yes, sir."

Sebastian lifted a glass of fine whisky to his lips and took a slow sip, watching the event unfolding before him. A grand collection of the finest of New York society. A fine audience for him to emerge before, like the phoenix.
hellfire_child: (step in to my parlor)

[personal profile] hellfire_child 2013-12-13 11:01 pm (UTC)(link)
Alistaire arrived with precise timing. It takes a lot of work to make things look like they just happened. He's in flawless Hellfire garb, just a touch rumpled, from his festivities immediately preceding the party. He was the Black King of the New York branch now. That station demanded making an entrance, and arriving bearing gifts. Both to those now under his watch, and to the Lord Paramount.

The closeted son of a hardline right-wing industrialist. The middle child daughter of one of Sebastian's old business partners, with designs on her father's company. The son and daughter, twins even, of a visiting ambassador of a country that the United States was only technically not at war with. A congressman's trophy wife, and her step-son who was off to Harvard Law in a matter of months, perhaps just a bit too comfortable on her arm. Alistaire had all of them delighted, all laughing, all ready to receive libations and meals and to chatter the night away. It was scandal, or the chance to stop scandals, all gift-wrapped and for the asking.