2013-02-13 Remembrance of Hellfire

It is the Annual Fundraiser for the Preservation of Victorian Architecture, held by Walter Langford in his penthouse in downtown Manhattan. It was a lavish and decadent affair where the elite of Manhattan met up, danced, wined and spent lavish amounts of money all in the name of saving old buildings and architecture that they all pretended to be interested in.

Sebastian Shaw attended these functions for multiple reasons. One to keep the pulse on the socialites, two to find out what sort of unusual things his lessers were up to, and finally to keep up his appearances. To the world at large Sebastian Shaw was simply a rich man, sometimes political talking head, and charitable benefactor of the arts.

So here he stood in his black tuxedo, at this boring party, listening to Walter Langford ramble on and on to him about various works of various dead architects that Shaw had no interest. Drinking his scotch as if it could some how make his ramblings interesting to him.

And after the latest swell of new patrons shuffling in was Emma Frost, all by herself. There was a look to the woman that she preferred it that way. She was dressed simply, that was soft with a hard edge. Emma wore a white satin gown, with a dropped neckline, black leather gloves, and her hair pulled tightly back but in a loose bun. Her makeup defined her flawless features, with a very daring dark blue lipstick.

She casually looked about the scene as she arrived. It was really habit that she still came to these parties anymore. But it was good for business. With any luck the champagne would be better this year.

Shaw noticed Emma's arrival instantly; how could he not. He had only two weaknesses, his own ego and beautiful and intriguing woman. And there was something very intriguing about this woman, something he recognized. And if what he recognized about her was correct... oh this was going to be a very interesting night.

He held his finger up to Walter and said, "I'm sure all of this is extremely interesting, Walter. But you did get my check and..." he shook his now empty glass of scotch, "I need a refill. So you're going to have to excuse me."

First things first, he walked up to the bar and got a refill on his scotch. A flirt and a wink to the waitress always ensured he had a backup plan if the night went sour. Then, with a confident stride he approached Emma Frost with a smile, "Now I never forget a face, and I just have to know: when did I meet a creature as delectable as you?"

Shaw already had an idea but wanted to see if this attractive lady would admit to it or not, or even remember who he was.

Emma Frost was accepting a glass of champagne when Shaw approached. She was taking a tentative sip. Yes, still garbage again this year. It would have to do, or switch over to martinis for the rest of the evening. She glanced over Shaw and did a casual scan of his mind, clearly full of vile thoughts. Especially if that was his sixth or seventh scotch, "I thought you remembered every face. I guess not."

She took a pause, one more sip. And placed it onto a waiters tray as he walked by, "I'm Emma Frost."

"Yes, I am aware of that Ms. Frost. I would not be very well connected if I didn't know the CEO of Frost International and the daughter of Winston Frost," Shaw took a drink of his scotch and even though it was his seventh he was rather sober, thanks to his own... special abilities. No, he was thinking of a time when a very timid girl, looking for work ended up in the Hellfire Club when he was but the White Bishop.

The daughter of Winston Frost, a waitress and entertainer in the Hellfire Club, and then using that money to make a name for herself outside of her father's name. He respected that, he did the same. Something from nothing, he had always wished she had stayed just a month longer. She would have been part of his take over. Ah well, the past was the past.

Emma Frost very subtly lifted her eyebrows as she scanned his mind. She had remembered that he was a part of the Hellfire Club, but hoped that most associated with the club had even forgotten about her. Well clearly not. His interest in her even then was something to take note of, but for the moment she would play it cool. She gently touched an arm of a passing waitress and asked for a dirty martini. Extra olives.

Once the girl left she responded to Sebastian, "And of course I know you Sebastian Shaw. Your name is on the buildings after all. It's a pleasure to meet you. It's a pity we haven't in the past. But I prefer to look to the future, hm?"

His thoughts made it very clear that he didn't believe a word of her denial of familiarity. He remembered her quite well, hell the fact that she was -the- Emma Frost was something the bastard, Ned Buckman, the White King at the time, liked to brag about... pretty much until he snapped his neck. But if she wanted to play this game, and he understood why he would want to, he could play along with it.

"Well I'm honored you know me as well, Ms. Frost. But I feel truly disappointed that we haven't meant before now |though I have seen you nude, more than once|. We are both the same, to people who have created something out of nothing. Who have become rich and powerful on our own names, rather than the names we inherited. I admire that."

Emma Frost without even looking she reached out for the glass the waitress brought from behind her, and took another sip. A much more pleasant taste. Champagne was such a simple drink, it's sub-par taste was easy to detect to a well versed tongue, "I'm flattered you know so much about my history, let's take a step out onto the balcony. I feel like a cigarette. And you look like a man who would indulge himself in a cigar from time to time."

Without waiting for his response, she turned and headed towards the outside balcony, with only a very few amount of people outside.

Sebastian Shaw smiled and chuckled for a moment he knew this was one of two things, either she wanted to talk privately because she -knew- they knew each other, or he was going to get blown off. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to know Sebastian Shaw's tenacity, "I do like cigars but I didn't bring any and considering how cheap the scotch is I can't imagine the cigars Walter have provided are that good."

"That being said, I do like a cigarette. Besides anything would be preferable to hearing Walter ranting on about the 'genius' of Antoni Gaud." He held his hand out to her, a gesture to escort to the outside.

Emma Frost accepted his arm and linked her arm through his. She glanced to the side and caught the eyes and stray thoughts as they passed. Either vile or so assuming. A man and a woman can't enjoy a smoke on a balcony together? Oh God this party is always so drull. Perhaps it was a tradition at this point that she kept attending. However, his eager memory of herself at the Hellfire club is interesting, to say the least. If he wished to out her, he would be sorely disappointed. It wasn't a part of her history she was favorable of, but she would own it. But if this was something else? Could be interesting. Or at least entertaining.

"I understand. This party drones on about, without enjoying the spectacle of artitecture." Emma pushed open the glass doors of the evening and sprawled out before them was the dazzling nighttime newyork skyline. "I always find it misses the point."

Shaw smiled as they reach the balcony. He didn't need to be a telepath to know what everyone was thinking. And he honestly didn't expect that outcome, he wanted only one thing this night... to confirm a suspicion. He then pulled out a palladium cigarette case filled with a luxury cigarette called Treasurers. He took one for himself and then offered one to Emma, "I don't find these parties boring as much as... frivolous. But then again, I lead the most prestigious club in the city, I don't expect these parties to be anything worth my time."

Emma Frost actually gave him a smile. Her lips curled into the shape, exposing brilliant white teeth. And her eyes sparkled in a dazzling light blue. She gracefully took a lit cigarette to her lips, and inhales. She exhaled the smoke in front of her, letting the smoke carry it on the wind, "I know. I remember working there."

She looked over to Shaw and rolled her eyes, "And of /course/ I know you know. But that's old history. I'd just prefer to keep it private, if I could. It isn't the end of the world if it isn't."

"And I would not have expected you to say anything like that." Shaw said as he inhaled his own cigarette, "I just expected you to play along a bit. Lead me on, that whole bit. That time for you was a lifetime ago, especially considering how much you've shined now. I just wished you'd stayed a little longer."

He thought about his three choices for White Queen lowering it to two, and neither being a good choice, "I have to say, I always saw this potential in you, Ms. Frost."

Emma Frost waved her hand through the air as if to dismiss his statement, "I could have. But you clearly knew, and I enjoy being a direct or subtle woman when the time comes for it."

She leaned forward, resting herself against the railing as she took the moment to enjoy the cigarette. It was quite delightful, she had to admit. She took her time with the second drag. After she finished exhaling she spoke, "I'm flattered, Sebastian, that you took notice on such a lowly stripper. A betrothed leader of the club. One would be surprised to leave such an impression."

Shaw's face turned to ice and the glass of scotch shattered in his fist, leaving no mark of blood or cut on his hand.

"Do not mention her again," he said coldly as he did not look at her. Waves of hurt and pain were running through his mind, just before Emma had left she was killed by something that hunted mutants.

Emma Frost that was something she did not know. While she kept aware of Shaw's history, the wife of the billionare was always kept out of it so she didn't notice. But very clearly it upset him. She placed her cigarette onto the ledge and reached into her clutch and pulled a simple antique handkerchief. She reached for his hand and brushed off the fabric with the cloth and spoke with a very muted tone, "I didn't know. I'm sorry."

She pressed the cloth firmly against his hand as she looked into his eyes, "Are you still a part of the club? I haven't gotten any letters since I quit."

It could be easy to say that a piece of Shaw was suddenly cut off, that suddenly a piece of him died as it always died whenever Lourdes Chantel was even remotely mentioned. The man who was standing out on this balcony with Emma now, was not the same man who walked out with her.

He revealed a wicked smile, one that showed no remorse or compassion of the acts he committed as he and his violently murdered the majority of the Inner Circle just a week after Emma Frost had left the club, "Oh, Ms. Frost. I am not only part of the club, I am the Hellfire Club. The Lord Cardinal, my word is law."

Emma Frost quirked a brow. Well now she knows, no matter what. What defines Shaw from now on. This was a dangerous man. Was this someone she wanted to distance herself from? Or someone to have on her side. She would decide this on the next few moments. Emma bundled her cloth and placed it into her purse, "Are you now? Well then. Congratulations. The Hellfire club always knew how to throw a party didn't it?"

She took another sip from her drink, followed by another drag of his cigarette.

Shaw softened slightly, "I've been in charge of the Hellfire Club for the last seven years. And yes, we still know how to throw a party, that much hasn't changed."

He looked over to Emma and said, "Though I assume if you did return to one of those parties... you wouldn't want to return in the same role you once were in."

Emma Frost had to stifle a laugh, "I don't care /how/ good a party is being a waitress/stripper is not in my future again. It served it's purpose for the time."

But Shaw was still a bit riled up. But it was, entertaining to watch? Exhilarating maybe? Perhaps it was a previous crush she hadn't taken notice of. It could also hint towards some of her more obvious, deep down issues. She eyed him once again, and wrapped her lips around the cigarette once more, in such the way that one is so incapable of noticing, "I'm feeling nostalgic. I'd like to go to a Hellfire club party."

"That depends entirely on you, my darling," Shaw said with his most carming smile as he turned his head to Emma, "Do you find it appropriate for the headmistress of a school in Metropolis to be attending what many consider the most decedant affairs to occur ont he planet."

Emma Frost casually shrugged a shoulder, and took a sip of her drink as she peered out over the horizon. And with that casual gesture she responded with, "I wear black leather gloves with white silk dresses. I don't care about what's proper or appropriate."

She finished the rest of the cigarette and prest the burnt edge against the railing of the building. Emma looked up at Shaw, "I'll be seeing you darling. I hope this party is soon. Thank you for making this party interesting."

She let out a very soft laugh, "You were always interesting."

And with that the night was finished at this event. She gave Shaw a lingering look and then made her way out of the party, leaving her drink on some sort of surface before exiting through the front doors."