nextgenerationmarvel | Chariots of Fire Are On Their Way

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Chariots of Fire Are On Their Way

The American Museum of Natural History was set ablaze with lights and the mingling scents of exotic flowers perfumed the cool evening air. Brooke Wyngarde had put a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into arranging for this soirée, and she was going to be damned if anyone was going to ruin it for her. After all, this was to welcome Stephanie Shaw da Silva and Marcelo Alencar da Silva back to Manhattan and, most importantly, receive them as a newly wedded couple.

Thus, Brooke had pulled out all the stops. Everyone who was anyone who knew the Shaws or the da Silvas had been invited (though Brooke had also dutifully chopped some of the more unsavory names off of her list). The food was a delightful blend of American-Brazilian-Spanish fusion. The cocktails were some of the most popular ones from Brazil, and only the finest Spanish wines were served. The music was live, big band-style stuff, because this was not some hideous high school Kiss on the Lips party.

Brooke herself, being the hostess of the event, may have gone just a tad bit overglam when it came to her look for the night, but then she was certain that she was going to be gracing many a society page the next morning.

She needed to look great, and she certainly did as she stood next to the entrance of the Arthur Ross Terrace, receiving guests for the cocktail hour which would precede that night's dinner, directing them towards the guest sign-in book, the gift table, and everything else.

She hoped, she prayed, that everything that night went off without a hitch.

After all, the supervillains only crash the weddings of the A-List superheroes, right?

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"Nothing so far. Except Quinn, but I'll fix him up with real cooking some day. His egg fixation makes me sad." And a little grossed out. Oh well. Boys were weird. Lord knows her two were.

"I'm gonna give the main room another circuit and then take a spin around the ballroom. See how things look in there."

Brooke remained silent, listening as Alistaire spoke. There was much that was said that Brooke herself certainly hadn't expected. The faintest of Mona Lisa smiles lifted the corners of her raspberry-glossed lips as she listened to Alistaire.

"It's a handsome offer, Mr. Shaw," Brooke replied after a moment. "And as much as it amuses and flatters me that the Black King needs the Red Rook's aid...I'm afraid I'm not quite as fit to help you as you may have been led to believe." There was, shockingly, no vitriol in her tone, nor was she putting Alistaire down. In fact, Brooke was showing a surprising amount of restraint.

Apparently being the hostess did change things about one's own demeanor.

"There's much that I'm still learning about my powers - how to use them, how to control them. How to fine-tune them. Rachel and - shockingly - Emma Frost are both helping me with that, and we've made some progress, but evidently...sociopathic tendencies of my own are getting in the way of that." It was something that Alistaire himself would surely understand, being a clinical sociopath himself. "Believe me, it isn't easy for me to admit not having an upper hand but here...I simply don't."

"No requests for drinks spiked with anything weird like blood. Though there's this old lady who keeps coming around to order a drink and stare over the bar at my butt." He glanced to the left. The woman in question was throwing back her drink like she was a sailor on shore leave.

"She may pass out under a ficus at this rate though."

Alistaire takes stock of Brooke's reply, still dancing effortlessly around the floor with her. "I see."

His voice is measured and even, lacking some of the earlier flamboyance as he calculates his response. "Well then... what about Summers and Frost?" He draws one of her arms past him, bringing his own hand close enough to tap a finger to his temple. "Do you think they could unlock this?

Alliances are Emma's stock in trade, and I don't think I've ever done the X-Men any wrong. What are my chances of them being willing to help a fellow mutant in need of... well, let's call it 'specialized psychiatric care'?"

He quiets for a moment. "War is coming, Brooke, whether I make the first shot across the bow or not. He's going to make a move on Stephanie, and I can't allow that. One way or another, I need to ready myself."

"Grey-Ramsey," Brooke said softly. "She hasn't been Summers for a very, very long time, Alistaire." She sighs softly. "Rachel wouldn't. For the most part, she wants nothing to do with connections to the Hellfire Club. You do realize that every time Rachel severed ties with your little Cajun spiced tart it was because of you, right? I mean, not that I minded. That hideous excuse for English that she used desperately needed subtitles, and we had no mutant around to grant that power. At least now we don't need to try and decipher her verbal hieroglyphics. Lord only knows how you put up with it for so long." Brooke smiled thinly.

"Emma...I'm not nearly as close to her as I am to Rachel. And saying that Rachel and I are close might not quite be the right word from her point of view. You would need to speak to her, but I'm not certain how helpful she might be towards Sebastian Shaw's grandchild." She raised a small eyebrow. "You're not very well liked in our circle, Alistaire. Surely you must have realized that. War or not, there may not be that many people who are willing to have your back."

If there was one thing that Brooke should ever have been appreciated for - not including her wonderfully ladylike sense of style and fine breeding - it was that her honesty was as brutal as a bullet to the brain.

Alistaire gives a light grunt of affirmation at the clarification about namings. He really did need to get around to caring, one of these days. Which, he supposed, was rather the point of this whole venture.

"Alisa has her value, if only she'd accept what it truly is." He gives a shrug, before dipping Ms Wyngarde close to the floor. "I think I may still make a run at Xavier's lot. Last time I tried speaking with them, I didn't have a common enemy to offer them." He whispers, before righting them both.

He smirks as the discussion turns to Emma. "Oh I'm well aware of how she'll feel about me being his grandchild. I'm sure she'll feel more strongly about him being him.

My evolution aside, the most important thing at this stage isn't getting people to have my back. I just need enough of them to not have Sebastian's. I think I may have an easier time pointing out that he's gone quite mad, than persuading people to like me." He pauses. "But... 'not many' isn't the same as 'not any'. Whom would you suggest I start with?

Oh, and before I forget, dearie, soft re-opening for the first hotel I bought is this coming weekend. Lovely old building. Only one hundred and eight rooms, but the spa is exceptional, and the head chef for the main restaurant makes a ceviche worth begging for."

Because 'worth killing for' isn't really such an exceptional length to go to, in their crowd.

It was nice to hear that. She'd have to press Brooke to hear more of the details behind that, because among other things, she was looking happier than ... ever, really.

She looked back at Alistaire for a moment, replying sweetly.

"I've my own weapons, darling nephew. You needn't worry about me."

She turned her attention back towards Alexander and Marcelo. "I can't wait to see it." She'd even be gentle towards them. An embarrassing number of Marcelo's other clothes ended up slashed or torn. Though he rarely seemed to mind.

Stephanie regarded Alistaire out of the corner of his eyes. He was playing an exceedingly dangerous game. Selene was not an individual to be angered, even if he'd wisely disassociated from her. But was that simply on Sebastian's orders? It was hard to know.

"Marcelo ... we should go say hello to the Mayor and the Senator, and let the others enjoy the party?" If Selene truly meant no harm, she'd drift, either away or to lurk at the edges.

"I can do no less," he assured Alistaire.

Marcelo blinked at Brooke. More to the point, several times at what Brooke said. That she had a boyfriend was not all that shocking, but more the description afterwards caught him a little flat. He swallowed a bit to help tamp down on a small feeling starting to grow. He'd deal with that later.

He licked his lips and fought his mind back to the conversation. "Yes, calling my office would be best. Sage knows my schedule of availability better than I do."

He was not used to tall, dark-haired women whispering tempting things in his ear. He was a bit out of practice with that since Stephanie was a little shorter than him. Selene's offer roused a feeling he had tamped down earlier. He squashed it again.

Rather than deal with some of the grandstanding in front and beside him, he turned to his wife.

"That sounds like a good idea, querida. I think the Ambassador from Brazil is around as well." He turned back to the people gathered there. "If you'll excuse us..."

"Miss Wyngarde, lovely reception you've thrown here. Very noticeable to the elite."

Selene gave no more attention to the married couple. She had done what she had come to do. The party was theirs to do what they wanted. Stephanie showed her wisdom by walking away. It was a pity she wasn't in the hunt for a rank, the inner circle could use some levelheadedness. Darkness knew Sebastian could no longer do that.

"If that is what you consider fawning, littlest Shaw, you would find me underwhelmed by it at present. I have experienced all you have to give. I'm sure the weak-minded ones you surround yourself with find it earth-shattering. I find it rather passé. Much like your ability to ignore if you get the rank you want, you get it at your grandfather's say so. Not that you earned it. Amazing how Shinobi was better than you at getting his rank."

She made no move to go anywhere.

Brooke couldn't help it. An enchanted little smile graced her features. Not only the compliment to the reception - though that certainly started the smile - but the way that Selene oh-so-effortlessly and deftly handled and cut Alistaire down.

"Please, Selene, make yourself comfortable. Our attendants will take care of almost any of your needs," she said as warmly and graciously as possible. There were, of course, certain things that the staff wouldn't be able to fetch Selene - someone's soul to drink of, for instance - but most everything else would be attended to.

Her eyes shot to Alistaire and then back to Selene. "I'll leave the two of you to continue your tete-a-tete. I need to see towards the dinner preparations." She offered Selene a slightly warmer smile than she did Alistaire and stepped away.

"Monopoly money has more value than Alisa LeBeau," Brooke replied. "What you ever saw worthy in her, I'll never understand. Especially to chase after her so repeatedly and desperately."

"You can try all you like with Rachel and Emma, Alistaire, but I know for a fact that Rachel will have a side of her own that's neither yours nor Sebastian's. The same could easily be said for Emma. You know she's always danced to her own tune." Her eyes darted around, taking stock of everyone in the room, making sure that nothing was off. She would be concerned until the party was over, after all.

"Honestly, I'm not certain. You may have to dig into the Hellfire Club archives. Emma Steed, Courtney Ross...someone else who has connections willing to back you somehow."

Somewhere outside, the newest and least trustworthy employee of SSI had one eye on Fin, and the other on the jewelry of the guests that passed by. She wriggled her upper body slightly, trying to surreptitiously adjust her bra strap.

"Yo. They got any of them little melon balls wit' the ham wrapped around them in there? I like those."

Fin tilted his head a bit. His fin was not as tall as normal since he was not in angry strength mode. He was also decked out in a tux tailored to fit his massive frame.

"I want some of those, too."

Eva knew she was tempting fate, wearing a white dress. She'd already gone phantom once, when she saw an obviously tipsy guest teetering her way with a glass of red wine, but fortunately, none had spilled. And, white really was her best color.

She smiled and made nice with all the rich people wanting to network with a Worthington, and tried not to steal glances at the clock app on her phone.

Gina blinked. A man with good taste!

She wondered how he felt about monster trucks.

He laughs gently. "If I actually had to chase, it wouldn't be interesting. How easily she returns to her habits is entertaining."

Alistaire smirks. "For a queen, Emma really is more like a jester to the universe, in her elegant way. As long as she gets to play, it's a win.

I'll come up with something..." And, for a moment, Alistaire Shaw actually looks somber. "I can't not come up with a resolution for this situation." He looks across the room at Stephanie. "Not this time."

Alistaire's attention was entirely fixed on Andrew now.

"For a god of war to be your father, being named Alexander is as much an expectation as a name." He smirks, teeth showing at one corner of his mouth. "What sort of god does that make you?"

Alistaire meets the ancient mutant's gaze, just as cool and impassive as his own. That timeless ambition and zeal. The primal passion, kept tethered.

He smiles.

"You are as you have ever been, Selene. I take comfort in that, to be honest. After the unfortunate business with Sebastian, I wasn't sure if you'd show yourself in Manhattan again. As for the appointment of rank--" He looks at his ring. "It expedited matters I already had on track, to be honest.

And while I admit it's not much to brag about, I dealt with my father. Grandfather wasn't able to get that one to stick."

He raises a glass to her. "Enjoy the evening." He takes a step backwards before turning ninety degrees and going to mingle.

"Fear," Brooke answered, simply, though the pride in her voice was evident. There was, of course, power in fear, and Brooke certainly believed in that power. At least, whenever she was around Alexander, she allowed herself to indulge in her darker urges.

"She does possess the mental constitution of ping-pong ball, it's true, with her forever volleying between two extremes."

She arches an eyebrow and follow his gaze. "I honestly didn't think you cared a whit for Stephanie. Unless there's something else afoot where you absolutely need her on your side, and this is all just a game until that time comes."

"Mmm. More crab cakes for me," Felicity purred. "Heads up, a vampiric stripper just appeared in front of the newlyweds. They seem surprised - and not in a happy way." Felicity eyed Selene from where she stood. "Great figure, though. Meow."

Nika pulled up short on her circuit of the room. Her eyes narrowed a little. She shook her head slightly. Now was not the time.

"Who's closest?" Nika tried to look through the crowd to spot the woman. And possibly wished she had a gun to shoot her in the head.

"I do... very much, in my way. Probably something close to your way." He shrugs a shoulder, still dancing with her.

"I'm amoral, Brooke... not a sadist. I don't gain any satisfaction of seeing good ripped down or corrupted just for the sake of corruption. Stephanie is a better person than I could ever aspire to be, however much emotions I might gain access to. I won't let her father ruin her."

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Chariots of Fire Are On Their Way

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