Logs:Center Control

Center Control
Dramatis Personae Matt, Wendy
In Absentia Daiki, Elie, Lucien, Mirror	2024-11-20 "I just have a kind of difficult time keeping track of your, um, family -- dispositions."
Location <HFC> Courtyard - Hellfire Club
Though enclosed on four sides by the structure of the clubhouse building, this garden does not feel as claustrophobic as one might expect. Viewed from above, an opportunity afforded by the club's many windows and balconies, it is laid out like a chessboard, light and dark squares differentiated by careful choice of ground cover as well as arrow-straight hedges. Elegant topiary chessmen populate the garden, arranged into a puzzle that changes seasonally. Even so, from the ground, a visitor might well be excused for imagining at first that they are merely traversing a well-designed hedge maze. At night, each square is lit by strips of LED lights cunningly concealed beneath the hedges, though for special events thematically appropriate lanterns will be installed instead. It's a lovely autumn day, if perhaps a bit on the crisp side for most people to enjoy taking the air so early in the day. The White Bishop is not most people, and really the main thing that's surprising about seeing him out here is that he bothered with a jacket at all, bottle green and open over a seafoam shirt, a tie with Byzantine tessellations in shades of green, a plain gray vest and trousers, and black dress boots. He does not make a show of wandering out here to be delightfully surprised at the presence of the person he definitely came to find, but winds his way across the board to her as efficiently as the absurd landscaping will allow. Wendy is Most People, or might as well be, quiet and unobtrusive as she nearly always is where she's tucked off in a corner. She's taking her morning coffee over -- well, presumably it's work, who's to say; she's been quite busy on her tablet but closes whatever messages she is currently occupied with as Matt nears. She's in loose-fit burgundy slacks and a cream cowlneck sweater, fleecey soft cream-and-black jacket over top whose slightly too long sleeves kind of swallow her hands in a spill of plushy fabric as she reaches for her cup. She sips it slowly, her eyes drifting to Matt and her brows lifting. Inquisitive. Matt sinks delicately into the other chair at the table. "Good morning." This is just a touch subdued by his standards. He hasn't had nearly as much tea as he would like, and there are indications this has already been a long day for him. "Did you know about Raleigh's mission?" Wendy cups her hands close around the mug, lowering it only halfway. Her elbows are propped on the table, her fingers (with a delicate burgundy-tipped French manicure) pressing a little harder to her mug. She tips her head slight to one side, her eyes just a little wider when they fix on him. "Should I have?" Matt sighs. "Is that a philosophical question, or self-defense?" He leans back, managing to somewhat drape himself even on the steel-framed chair's back, which cannot possibly be comfortable. "I don't think you're responsible. If you did know and you play nice with me, I will make it worth your while. If you didn't..." The twitch at the corner of his mouth is not really a smile. "...there are more important things than club business involved." Wendy's brows pinch delicately inward, her eyes shifting -- past Matt, around Matt, back to Matt. She lifts the cup again, head dipping the rest of the way to meet the rim with a small quiet puff of breath breathed out on the coffee. Probably this does very little to cool it, but she's taking a tiny sip anyway. "It's procedural. If I was supposed to be involved, somehow, the orders got crossed." The faint frown lingers. She sets her mug down, bringing the fluffy sleeves of her jacket together, hands disappearing entirely as she clasps them within the fleece. "Didn't you know?" Matt's smile is perhaps not actually incongruous, he is putting some things together himself. But he covers it loosely with one hand. "Mm. The procedure was -- shall we say, not standard. Her Majesty didn't want me to know. I had expected subterfuge and found it but --" He turns one hand up, casually resigned. "If I could account for that I wouldn't be here. I thought she might have pawned it off on one or more of you, but the thing of it is, there'd been two marks, not one." "Subterfuge? Around here?" Wendy's voice has dropped to a slightly breathless hush; the way she leans in just a bit over her coffee manages to intimate a sense of scandal at this revelation. She unclasps her hands, tips them both up, fluffy sleeves coming apart in a small shrug. "Iiii don't know what standard is. I know my tasks, and I didn't have any. Not with either of the Knights, that night. Shouldn't you be talking to your mom about this? Or," she suggests, sitting back in her seat and picking up the coffee again, "our Rook? They seem to know just about everything." Matt does not really react externally to any of this. "I know who should know," he says flatly. "I came to you because I thought you might give a shit Mother Dearest put a hit on my brother." He sits up straighter, the smile drops away. "I don't care how little you think of me, she must be stopped. I have both more and less access because of who I am to her. Whether you knew already was relevant to how much you have." He arches one eyebrow. "And where your priorities are." "Oh!" It's a little surprised, Wendy's eyes fluttering in a few small blinks. "Sorry --" Her eyes are dipping, a small flush in her cheeks. "I just have a kind of difficult time keeping track of your, um, family --" She waggles the the of her sleeve in Matt's direction. "Dispositions," she finishes delicately. She dips her head, tongue dipping down to lap once, catlike, at her coffee. "I know what I need to know. I used to work a lot more with our Bishop than our Queen, but y'know --" Shrug. "So you -- don't want him dead now, right? Just -- checking." Matt drags his hand down the side of his face with a faint rasp of incipient stubble. "If I could account for that, I --" He stops, expression unchanged. "-- might still be here. But I swear on our mother's once and future grave, I don't want him dead." He clamps his mouth shut, teeth grinding hard. "She does, and when she's set her mind on something she does not give up." He tips his head back to study the scudding clouds, not quite able to look at Wendy when he says, "I know perfectly well I'm not his equal on this stage." He looks back down, pushing himself half upright. "But for whatever it's worth, I do think Mother's ardent devotion to me is her hamartia." "Is she the hero in this story?" It's a little distant, a little dreamy. Wendy is looking past Matt again, or seems to be, her nails tapping quietly on the mug. "Did you come here to ask me to join your coup? A second time?" She's squinting upward, now, like she's searching for answer in the passing clouds. "I guess it's not that much whiplash, relatively. Paris has been through three Monarchs in as many months, I think they're aiming for some kind of record." "Oh, yes. I ought've been more explicit, no?" Matt sits all the way up, only to lean forward and brace his elbows on the edge of the table. "Ousting Luci is one thing. I didn't think you would be keen to serve a Queen bent on killing him. Likewise Daiki, though I expect I could just lead with 'get in loser, we're pulling a coup'. The Rook..." He spreads his hands. "...is probably bored with her anyhow. If we pull this off and Mother stays in town, we might beat Paris in fairly short order." Wendy's lips twitch, a small sideways tick in time with a smaller puff of breath. "How long have you known Daiki for, again?" She taps at her cup again, and then takes another longer swallow of the coffee. "I'm not keen to serve anyone," she finally ventures, slow as she sets the mug back down. "And, I'm sorry, but I'm also not really keen to get in the middle of your, um --" The tip of her tongue presses to her top lip as she considers. "It feels like you all have a lot you need to work out, you know. Between yourselves. I'm not sure I want to be in the middle of it." Matt takes longer to answer than really should be necessary for a bit of simple arithmetic, and comes out with just "over a decade" and no further discussion. Although "and that is fair enough" is addressing both points. "I doubt I'd want to be mixed up with myself and Her Majesty if I had a choice in the matter -- and certainly not if Luci were involved also. Thank you." He pushes to his feet and smiles, very thinly. "For the reality check -- I might even cash it. Good day." He turns and veers off into the garden.