After the ranks for the Inner Circle were given, Selene disappeared for a few days to handle business with other chapters of the Hellfire Club. When she returned to New York, she had invitations issued to the newly ranked members of the Inner Circle. They would each be shown to a different room from the one where they received their ranks.

The large, circular room had a black and white tiled square in its center. Where the pawns should have been on the large chessboard were two long tables. There were ornately carved and appropriately colored chairs at each spot for the rooks, bishops, and knights. No chairs sat in the white king and queen spots nor in the spot for the black king. The black queen's position had a familiar throne in it.

At each position was a triangular name plate made of gold with each person's name and rank. A couple positions had "Reserved" on their name plates: one of the white bishops and one of the black knights.
The fall of Sebastian Shaw did not change much of the societal face of the Hellfire Club; it was still where the people who mattered gathered, just with one less cranky meglomaniac. But the effect on the Inner Circle and the plans Shaw had for them quickly disintegrated. His loss of power left a vacuum that nature only allowed for a moment.

Selene had waited for years, if not decades, for the opportunity. She had a lifespan long enough that while her whims could seem mercurial, the patience for her machinations to unfold seemed boundless. Once Shaw was arrested for his unfortunate assault on an international businessman, the poisoned whispers she had been planting since he slaughtered her followers took hold. Shaw's name was worth nothing, and someone of prominence needed to take control. Selene did it with smooth efficiency.

All of Shaw's promises were quickly discarded.

She was named Lady Paramount with her promises of righting what Shaw had taken so wrong. She embodied the hedonistic past of the Inner Circle but her alliances showed how she could rehabilitate the Inner Circle from the path it had been set on. Her dark yet silken touch seemed a balm after the iron grip.

All other chapters of the Hellfire Club around the world were still subordinate to the power of the New York chapter. However, Selene reversed much of what Shaw ordered. All other chapters would reform their ranking to her wishes. Once the more classically game rankings were applied, they formally acknowledged the New York chapter was in charge. Then it was in the other Clubs' hands to impress her and reap rewards from doing so. Selene's proper feudalistic system was more palatable than what had been put in place previously.

For the young, rich blood of New York, invitations were sent out for some functions held at the Club. After a couple, Selene had more secret invitations to those of Hellfire lineage, like Worthingtons, Wyngardes, Braddocks, and Frosts, as well as to those newer to society that showed promise Selene was looking for.

Selene kept tabs on the recipients of those special invitations and what they had done in the time after her ascension. When she had all of the international business settled, invitations to the young blood of New York City went out. They would be allowed, one by one, into one of the inner sanctum parlors where the Lady Paramount and Black Queen of New York City sat casually on the lone chair in the room.

One of her slender fingers idly tapped the rim of the wine glass with a very deep red liquid in it. The gatekeeper to the Inner Circle was ready.
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? 
Marcelo had finally been released from the hospital after a week in their care. He was under orders not to do anything strenuous. He also still needed the bandages on his front and back changed until the wounds stopped seeping. After a week of being by his bedside and making sure he didn't leave the hospital prematurely, Stephanie had finally gone back to work. That left Marcelo alone in the penthouse with little to do.

He wasn't sure if he was supposed to or not, but he left for the day. There were things he could do that were not sitting on the couch feeling miserable. He didn't know how long this small window of determined activity would last. He made sure he had his phone with him, but Marcelo was determined not to use it. He could spend a day out in New York and not need to call in back-up.

Though he itched to put on his Vesper gear and go patrolling, even in broad daylight, he knew that would get him in a whole lot of trouble. So, a day on the town it was. He had a list of places to get and the hopes some of the street vendors had some decent enough food. He hoped he got home before Stephanie, but with his list of places to visit, he wasn't sure.
WHEN: Thursday morning, 6 am
WHAT: Stephanie goes out to where the press corps lies waiting, and afterwards
WHERE: Outside the Mansion
WHO: Open, but Amit I expect Brookage, dammit

TL;DR Version: Steph comes out (as a mutant) )
New York City high society had been absolutely buzzing over this April's charity gala by a certain Mr. Tony Stark. It was seen as exclusive, or as exclusive as his 200 person guest list could be. Some invitations were a given, like Tony's daughter Alexa, whereas others came from what the party planners figured as the right people to make the party memorable or talked about.

The charity event was for the charitable arm of Stark Inc., Stark International. Despite being for charity, it was also seen as a good way for businesses to be seen and network.

The event was held at the Hudson in the Library and Private Park space. It would comfortably fit the people into its 2,600 Square Feet.
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The Next Generation of Marvel Heroes

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