ArchivedLogs:Personnel Review

Personnel Review
Dramatis Personae Emma, Lucien
In Absentia	2013-06-03 '
Location <NYC> Russian Tea Time - Upper East Side
This chic and upscale restaurant serves surprisingly little tea for their name -- though it can be found, on their menu, and quite good quality at that. Elegant and understated, there is an old-world feel to this place. For those who make their dress code (and book reservations enough in advance), the food here is good, hearty Russian fare, although the main attraction here comes not from their extensive food menu but from their extensive bar. Their vodka comes three double-shots to a flight, for those with strong constitutions (and a safe ride home.) Lunch rush! Though in the cool quiet interior of this restaurant /rush/ seems like the wrong word; the conversation is quiet, and even though it primarily consists of businessfolk on their lunch breaks nobody seems particularly /hurried/. Lucien certainly does not; he is tucked away at a side table near a window, summery in lightweight cream slacks, a green button-down, tie, his jacket removed and draped over the back of his seat. He has a glass of water already, chill with a thin layer of condensation on the outside of the goblet and a slice of cucumber in place of the typical lemon. There is a menu in front of him, though he is not looking at it, focused instead on his phone as his other hand traces absent circles around the rim of his goblet with a forefinger. In the crowd his mind perhaps stands out for how it /doesn't/ stand out, glassy-polished-calm as ever, a smooth surface through which, at the moment at least, not so much as a ripple breaks through. Emma enters the fine eating establishment just a little later, slipping out of her light weight, white raincoat at the door and leaving it and a clear umbrella with the host. She tells him that she already has a table, which is good as the lunch rush only seems to mean limited seating here, then moves into the greater dining room on her own. She takes a minute to scan the room, looking for familar minds or interesting tidbits before focusing on that singular still mind and brushing up against it lightly, turning in his direction. "Lucien, darling. It has been far too long. I am dreadfully sorry that I have been less than available lately." Emma is wearing a form fitting button up blouse in white with a pair of light gray slacks underneath. Her feet are held in the embrace of the many white straps of her high heeled sandals. Her hair is swept up - the only thing one can do in this humidity, with black rimmed glasses on her nose. "How have you been?" The light mental brush is met with a reflexive sort of tightening, glassy pond-surface frosting over quietly harder. More to brush against. Less to /see/. In contrast to frost Lucien's expression is warm, easy smile lighting his brilliant green eyes as he stands, pulls out Emma's chair, offers a light-chaste cheek kiss in the process of seating. It comes, as it often does, with a small flutter of warmth to match his smile, happy-calming-comfort in a subtle-soft neurochemical touch. "Emma. You needn't apologize, things have a way of," Lucien says lightly, fingers drumming in one quick roll on the back of Emma's seat, "all bubbling up at once. Lift gets busy. I have been," he continues this with a small note of laughter threaded through his tone, "rather occupied myself. Warm weather brings out all kinds of new interests among my clientele. How have /you/ been, ma cherie?" << Busy, >> Emma tries again, unsure of Lucien's receptiveness. She leans into the quick brush of his lips, kissing the air as he does. "I have been well," she replies in a similarly warm fashion, a pleasant smile on her lips. "Construction and other events keep me on my toes, but I seem to be settling into the city a little more, making more friends as well." She settles into the chair lightly, giving a little aid as he pushes the chair in. Blue eyes follow Lucien back to his seat, picking up her menu as he gets settled. "Oh, well, and here I would have thought the opposite, but then again, cold weather does tend to keep people inside more. << I hope your clientele isn't too demanding, as I perhaps have some work you may be interested in. >> Her fingers wrap around a glass of water and brings it toward her lips absentmindedly. Only then does she focus on the condensation and any droplets of water that may look like they are about to fall on her. Safe, for now, she takes a sip. Lucien slips around back to his own seat after pushing Emma's chair in, settling back in with one hand resting on his menu again. "/New/ interests," he stresses lightly, "in cold weather people look for other distractions." He takes a sip of his water, and only then finally opens his menu. "I've stopped in occasionally to watch the new ballroom's development. They say it is going to be grander than before." There is amusement here, too, if a quiet sort. << My clientele, >> Lucien's words lay themselves out careful-quiet along the frosted-glass surface of his mind, << are nowhere near as interest/ing/ as you, Emma. >> Even here there is warmth, in the words, in odd contrast to the cool plane they well up from. << Do tell. >> His eyes skim down along the menu. "Friends. That is a delightful kind of busy. Cities don't really seem alive to me until you've forged the right connections in them." "I see, I see," Emma replies, amused as well. "Well, I am glad to hear that you're business is going well then." She sets the menu down once she's decided, fingers still on her water glass, shedding off some of the larger droplets as they from in the condensation. "And thank you. It has to be grander, but at the same time, I will admit that it's mostly how I am selling it to the members. Grander gets better funding. If it gets destroyed again, you know, we're going to have to cover everything in solid gold to satisfy them." She is possibly only half joking. "And diamonds in the window glass." << Thank you, dear. I have such a puzzle for you. I did tell you that I was working with someone with a split personality, correct? This blasted thing is so covered in secrecy, I can't remember if I've introduced the subject to you properly. >> "Friends are welcome. Shopping companions as well. I would absolutely love it if you extended a message to your lovely Nox and let her know that I miss her company and would love to take her shopping again some time. My treat." << I do love puzzles. >> Lucien lays his menu back down, closing it neatly. "There were not diamonds there already? I am disappointed. What do membership dues go to?" He trails his finger /up/ against the side of the glass, gathering droplets of condensation against its rim. The slow trail of his finger against the goblet summons up a quiet bell-chime of sound before he stops. "Nox? Oh, goodness. If I see her I shall pass it along. I imagine she could do with a spot of relaxation as well. In this city," Lucien's lips twitch just faintly, "who couldn't?" << You had mentioned, >> this comes with a kind of deliberate flicker-flash of memory; talk of an attack at Emma's apartment, a pair of hungry yellow eyes. "Indeed. I would love a ladies night out with her, but obviously, it would have to be something she enjoys as well." Emma moistens her lips a little before taking a sip. When the waiter arrives, she orders the stuffed mushrooms to start, followed by the lamb shank, informing him that she would like the dessert menu when they are through. She raises her brows as she turns her attention to Lucien once more, for his order. << Ah, yes. Him. Them. >> It's not so amazing how the telepath always seems to get service when she wants it. She inhales deeply at the memory and then continues. << It appears that he is similar to a genetic chimera, where the parts of his mind which are not... his, are actually mutant. It adds a biological level to the split personality that I am not sure my skills alone can mend. >> She smiles sweetly over the rim of her glass. << I am not fully sure that your skills can help either, but I do believe you are a step in the right direction, perhaps for starving out part of the growth in preparation for removal, perhaps converting some of those cells back to the larger body's control, or, at the most basic level, providing the host with much needed happiness and pleasure to drive down the infection. Of course, these are just suggestions I came up with. You are definitely the expert on what you can or can't do. >> "Oh, I expect everybody enjoys having more friends. And a spot of indulgence now and then." Herring to start. Chickpea stew for a main course. A flight of vodka (a shot each of Jewel of Russia Classic, Nemiroff Cranberry, Rowanberry.) Lucien smiles politely as he hands the menu back to the waiter. << I have before, >> he offers quietly underneath the process of ordering, << mended the damage that monster has done to /others/. I would have to see for myself if it is possible to mend the damage it does to its host. >> << You would of course be making yourself known to him as well, >> Emma replies quietly, with an uncurrent of due cautiousness. She perches her elbows on the table, her chin lightly on the knuckles of her interlaced hands. "Hmmmm. I wonder if I should get some vodka as well." She hands her menu back and does so, getting the House Flavored, of Coriander, Black Currant Tea, and Lime. "Thank you." << I don't really like the idea of introducing more people to him, but, in the end, it is your decision. >> "It seems almost a crime to come here and not," Lucien says this with a smile more to the server than to Emma, "everything they serve is exquisite." His fingers curl around the stem of his water goblet, but he doesn't drink it again. He picks it up, ice rattling quietly as it shifts. "I can only imagine," external conversation continues idle-banter-light, "that a spot of indulgence would serve you well, too. So many of our clientele overlap I can only imagine that if people are in the mood for -- entertainment, well, your schedule must be getting busy as well." << He is dangerous, >> this is said more as quiet musing consideration than as /objection/. << There are worse things in life than having dangerous people in your debt. >> "My schedule barely allows me time at the gym, but the key, I've discovered, is to add certain appointments to my book that stand for other things. They cannot … easily.. overbook me if I build in breaks automatically." Emma grins a little as she shows a bit of her hand, amused. "This meeting, is scheduled for three hours and is called Personnel Review." << of course, the personnel review is very easy for a telepath to do without actually needing to call too many meetings -- but that's beside the point. I will set up a meeting for you and Mr. Osborn, with myself and Parley. The monster likes to chew on Parley, so he is an excellent distraction. He will, of course, be restrained. The manacles did appear to be sufficient last time we were there, but he was particularly cooperative, so I do not know what would happen, should the monster rage. >> "Oh, goodness," Lucien's exclamation is light, more amused than concerned, "am I up for review already? I wish I had known, I would have cajoled some of my clients to drop hints around the club about what an excellent job I am doing." He lifts his water, sipping slowly. "An excellent method of carving out some time for yourself, though. I suppose the trick is in creative naming. Schedule yourself some time at the beach. Call it Personal Development." << Parley, >> this is echoed with a hint of questioning, unfamiliarity. << You are bringing a chewtoy? >> He lowers his glass, ice rattling again. << Monster or no, it still has a brain. I have ways of calming tense situations. >> "Aaah, you made the classic new person mistake. You used the term 'personal.' Anytime something is labeled 'personal,' it is treated like it is not there. Instead, a trip to the beach would be a 'Venue Review/Visit.' Then, I would have a budget to try out the cuisine and beverages - as well as making contacts interested in making a little extra cash, in case a member wishes to take a date on a sudden, last minute, unplanned romantic trip to the beach where his or her every need is attended to." She smiles a little brighter. "Would you like to be included on any of these reviews?" << I will refrain from making any more attempts to dissuade you. You have seen what he can do, even without physical touch. It's worse with, I believe, but I digress. Parley. Yes. I have him working with Mr. Osborn right now. He has performed a strange sort of dance into the man's good graces and survived each encounter to this point. I find him useful - even in this case as a chew toy. You... will see what I mean later. >> "Venue Review. Mmm. In this weather I would rather welcome it. And I /do/ often have need of finding last minute unplanned pleasant getaways." The thought makes Lucien's smile flash a little brighter. "If you need someone to accompany you on these work excursions," he offers /magnanimously/, "I am sure I could make myself available." << Yes, >> is his absently thoughtful comment, << I suppose I will. >> Beneath this he quietly turns over the word /useful/ in his mind, whisper-soft in the background but its /presence/ at all is likely a deliberate one. Hmm. << I rather imagine any sort of dance with Norman Osborn is a strange one. >> There's a more muted quality to his words, this time. Slower, more pensive. Distracted sorts of imagery flickering up from beneath the frosted-hard surface of his mind. A dog worrying at a ragged stuffed animal. A dog muzzled, worrying at nothing. << There are, >> he adds kind of delicate-light, << very /few/ people who know the extent of what I can do. >> << Another reason why I expressed such initial caution when introducing the subject. I would -- offer to remove Parley from the equation, but Mr. Osborn believes him to be /his/ associate. I could object to his presence and find reason, but it would be suspect in more situations than just this particular one. Would you prefer no one else be there? I would rather like Mr. Shaw to be in case the restraints are not sufficient. >> Emma's eyes are drawn to Lucien's glass when the glass stops rattling in his glass, as if her attention were delayed. << Then again, I could just turn this over to you entirely. Deal with Osborn yourself. >> There is something decidedly reserved in this, as if Emma definitely knows this will end poorly for Lucien, given the man(men)'s proclivity for secrecy and the willingness to kill to protect that. << I will relay whatever requests you have for the encounter to Mr. Osborn for his approval. >> There is quiet, from Lucien. Audible and mental, his finger returning to tracing its slow path around the rim of his goblet. << Bodyguards, >> he comments, an idle image of Mr. Shaw welling up in his Oscorp Gala suit, << are well-versed in discretion. >> "Ah. Thank you." This is aloud to the server, as appetizers arrive. Together with shots. Lucien for the moment ignores his three shot glasses, unfolding his napkin to his lap and turning his attention to herring instead. The thought of dealing with Osborn himself summons a mental image of Lucien /dancing/ with Norman. A waltz. It should probably be amused. It is really not. << Is this kind of thing likely to end well for /anyone/? >> It's a quiet musing and focused more around -- monster breaking into Emma's apartment than around anything else. << I am sure a man like Osborn understands the desire for privacy. >> "Oh, that looks amazing, thank you," Emma looks a little embarrassed as the waiter interrupts their silence with delicious starters and drinks. She reaches for one of the vodkas first, inhaling the aroma to figure out which one it is. "I am so sorry." she apologizes to Lucien quietly. "There is always that awkward moment before the food starts arriving that I often don't know what to do with. I often forget it has even happened. I hope it was not uncomfortable for you?" << Ah. I forgot we were in public. >> There's a mental inhalation, a deep breath taken as she reviews the facts. << No. I do not believe that this will end well for /everyone/, but singled out, any one of us may not be a match for him alone. With cooperation, we could collectively make sure that we are the ones who survive unscathed. >> She pauses for a moment. << Would it help if I offered to alter Parley's memory after, so he does not remember you? >> << What is he good for, save being a chewtoy? >> Lucien wants to know, as he starts in on his fish. << One man's useful is another's -- >> "Anticipation," he says, lightly. "Understandable, especially with the delights they serve up, here. Besides, brains move just a little slower before they have been refueled." He eats in small bites. Neat. Delicate. "It would take a good deal more than silence to make your company uncomfortable, Emma." << Useful cooperation I can live with. Unnecessary weight, less so. >> There is a big question-mark in his thoughts over the name Parley at this, unsure which category to class this unknown in. << Parley has particular mental giftings that I find very useful in the landscape of that tortured mind. When I say 'chew toy' I mean in a psionic sense. He ... well. I can give you a full description, but I tend not to lay out other people's gifts without their permission. If you like, I can set up a meeting in which you are debriefed fully of the situation, with both of you present so that everyone is on equal footing. >> Emma takes her first shot, closing her eyes and enjoying the burn, smiling long and pleasantly afterwards, her brow crinkling with the after effects. "I appreciate that my silence does not bother you. I find your presence companionable and involving even when you're not actively speaking." She picks up a mushroom and places it at her lips, looking over it at him. "Of course, when you speak, you are keenly interesting too." << Mmm. I would appreciate that, >> There is a distinct internal relaxing at this suggestion, willing far more to meet this person beforehand than to go with Parley as an unknown entity into what is undoubtedly a tremendously dangerous situation. Lucien reaches for the first of his own shot glasses, draining it in a rather slow swallow, letting it roll over his tongue before he finishes it entirely. "With as much as I enjoy your company it is heartening to hear you say so," he answers, warmly amused as his green eyes meet her blue ones. "Does this mean my personnel review is going well?" Internally, his mind is changing tracks, content for now to leave the subject of Osborn till future Debriefing Meeting. Instead, << Have you seen much of Justice Halpert around the club? >> It's a question seemingly out of nowhere, coloured with an image of the man in question -- a judge on New York's Supreme Court. << Very good. I shall set something up for later in the week. >> Emma smiles as she nibbles on another one of her mushroom caps, smiling as she meets Lucien's gaze. "Darling, I already knew your review was going to go well. Member relations has nothing but praise for your efforts around the club especially in easing communications between disgruntled individuals." She draws in a deep breath and looks away for a moment before smiling even brighter when her gaze returns to Lucien's features. "Why don't we talk about your development plan for the next year? How would you like to grow at the Hellfire Club? What skills can we help you develop?" << Justice Halpert? Hmm. I have indeed seen him around, but I have not had many conversations with him. >> There's an interior perking of interest, nothing intrusive, but definitely letting him know that he has her undivided attention. Her fingers run gently over the rim of her second shot glass. << Should I get to know him more? >> Lucien's herring is only half-done, but he sets it aside as their main courses arrive. The server gets a smile, a polite thanks. Lucien sips at his water, clearing his palate for the next dish. "I think when it comes to facilitating communications I am quite adept. When it comes to /making/ those connections in the first place I could certainly stand to branch out. Less, ah, mediating, more proactive --" His lips curl upwards slightly. "Liaising. The Club has so much potential. If you can make sure the right people make the right connections." He doesn't immediately start eating, lifting his next shot in salute to Emma first. << He is one to watch, >> which sounds more like a mild kind of /warning/ in his mental tone than a commendation. << They say when Justice Sewell retires he is a likely candidate for the Court. >> The /actual/ Supreme Court, rather than the state one. << His extracurricular interests, though, leave something to be desired. >> << Proponent of registration, I could guess - and worse? >> Emma smiles up at the waiter as her lamb is placed in front of her, mushrooms scuttled off to one side. She picks up her fork and her knife and begins carving a little of the meat from the bone, fingers adept and well practiced at guiding her instruments to their purpose, giving herself a nice slice of meat to start on. "I think we could do that. I could give you names of some of the newer members and we can see if you can draw out some of the more reclusive members to see if you can't get them involved - and pleasant, should they be reclusive for that reason." She slips the bite between her lips and pulls the fork back empty, chewing quietly. << Do you have suggestions on how to approach this individual? >> She queries while chewing, giving her mouth an opportunity to take a break and enjoy. << I don't want to be /too/ obvious when I start keeping an eye on him. Though -- would it be easier to leave the task to you? >> She ponders how much responsibility Lucien desires. << Proponent of bloodsport, >> Lucien answers, quiet and reserved as he starts on his stew. << I should not be surprised, I suppose, the law has a reputation for being cutthroat. >> He downs his next shot quicker than the first. His eyes close as he enjoys the feel, and it's only after a pause that he speaks again. "That would be excellent. There are so many interesting personalities around the Club." << Him, I already have an excellent relationship with, >> Lucien admits, a casual tone that takes for granted understanding of the intimate nature of /his/ Excellent Relationships. << But my powers only go so far towards changing people's minds. Making them more malleable, certainly. But -- >> He starts in on his stew, after a small sip of water. << He is a stark reminder of how deep the poison in the system flows. >> Although the soft vein of mental suggestion carried with this thought suggests less a /cure/ for poison and more simply replacing someone else's poison with their own. << Bloodsport? He wouldn't happen to be involved in that deplorable incident with a fair number of people in the police department? >> There's a mental sneering of her upper lip as she replies, but her face remains pleasant and smiling, her eyes focused on the meat she is cutting. << I happen to be privy to some plans to deal with that and will gladly make sure Justice Halpert goes down with them. >> Despite her delighted smile at the taste of her lamb, the underlying current of bitterness in her mind drives her to put down her fork and pick up her second vodka, sniffing it to see which one it is before taking a long sip. Eyes flutter closed in appreciation, her hand moving to set the glass down without finishing it to savor the experience. "We do have an enormous amount of personality in the club. Sometimes it is a joy, sometimes the hardest part of my job. However, I feel that you may be able to make going to our department a real joy and I look forward to that." She smiles as she plucks her last mushroom from her starter plate, then bites it clean in half, craddling the topping back into the remaining cap as she chews. When her mouth is clear, she remarks, "that is my expectation or goal, or whatever the proper term is, for you, until our next personnel review. Does that seem attainable to you?" << That, >> Lucien's crisp one-syllable response is a quiet affirmation, initially; it comes not with further explication by way of words but a brief flicker-flash of image, a small green lizard-like teenager in a large cage fighting an older man covered in some sort of rust-red armouring. The memory is tinged with no small measure of disgust. << Deal with it? >> A curious kind of pressing. "More than attainable," comes his light reply, between small bites of stew. "Delightful, even. I suppose I am lucky in that I rather enjoy my job. When I am doing it well everyone is happier for my presence. It makes for a pleasant work environment." << The idea is to convince them to confess and cover our tracks. I am not involved in the case that they are building and what will happen in the courtroom. It is out of my hands, but I will do my part, and if the court case falls apart, I am sure there are other ways to pursue the matter. >> Emma finishes her mushroom and turns back to her lamb, continuing to cut clean morsels free. << It is early and my primary concern is to make sure our architect friend has the ability to avoid suspicion, so he remains valuable to us. However -- >> she begins, turning the image back around and letting it flash for Lucien once more, << if you have a personal interest in this situation, we can talk about more aggressive involvement. >> She laughs quietly and glances up at Lucien, studying his expression, particularly the slope of his cheek and the line of his jaw, before her gaze sweeps past his mouth and settles on his eyes again. "I'm glad you find your work rewarding. I'm glad we could come together on this. I definitely look forward to working with you for years to come." << I don't want to take him out, >> Lucien admits silently, << I want to make him ours. >> It's a mingled patchwork of mental clarification -- leaning on how well-disposed the judge /already/ is to him, using his particular gifts to leave him still-more malleable, still-more disposed to mental influence. Not taking out his career but making sure that when he /does/ rise higher they have a Supreme Court justice on /their/ side rather than the one he is currently playing for. But openly: just a smile, just an acknowledging tip of his head, a salute with his final shot glass. Green eyes bright and warm. "To many rewarding years to come." << Make him ours? >> Emma considers this. << I like it. Let me know if you need my help at all. >> She lifts her glass as well, smiling brightly and returning his nod. "To many, many years."