ArchivedLogs:Tete-a-Tech

Tete-a-Tech
Dramatis Personae Emma, Parley, Samuel
In Absentia	2013-05-19 '
Location <NYC> Hellfire Clubhouse - Upper East Side
Monochrome elegance at its finest: the Hellfire Club plays home to New York's elite, and has spared no expense in making that clear. Black and white marble tiles the floor, the pattern distinctly that of a chessboard. Rich wood paneling lines the walls, and the alcoves of the entry hall hold statues reminiscent of chess pieces. Meeting and dining halls provide plentiful space for the club's members to congregate, whatever their needs. The Hellfire's library, while far smaller than its ballroom in size, is far more prized in content. Hundreds of volumes line the meticulously tended shelves, the rarest kept carefully in climate-controlled cases under the watchful eye of the mansion's librarian. High-backed leather chairs and plush couches provide quiet reading spaces beneath soft lighting, and tall windows look out to the mansion's gardens beyond. The main ballroom of the mansion is vast and opulent, its ceiling vaulted and the balconies above curving gracefully away from the grand staircase -- an ideal place from which to Make An Entrance. The hallways that branch off from the staircase run in opposing monochrome: the stark white court's quarters to one side, the dark black court's quarters to the other. While not the main dining hall, there is something about the lounge at the Hellfire Club that draws just as many, if not more people into its comfortable leather seating. Drink prices are drastically reduced from the average price due to member fees paying to help secure the more expensive fair that the club likes to drink, but the quality of alcohol still makes it a little more expensive than the average person off the street could afford in order to get drunk. Emma isn't exactly holding court in one of the booths in the bar today, but she is camped out, laptop in front of her, tablet to one side, glass of brandy to the other. She waited until noon to order her beverage and has barely touched it. It is her day off and for some reason, she still has all of her work tools out, searching and surfing quietly as she enjoys the ambiance of the room, telepathically as well as visually and audibly. For a man who made his money through his apparent obsession with computers Samuel rarely carries much in the way of a computer. At present he's simply got an iphone in hand. He wears a vaguely amused smile as he places his phone on a table, his own mind focused on electronic signals that to his mind flit around the room carrying the information of those present. His mind the mental equivilent of a fax tone to any telepath who might brush against it. << (ah-ah?) >> To Emma, this is the sense of a taffy-limber mind stretching out against her own. It doesn't speak in words; just fragments of concept, imagery, extended definitions melted into single livid spots of color all patchworked together. It seems to come from... no where in particular. Because Parley is not sitting /with/ Emma at all; he's sitting further away, snacking on plate of something small, maybe stuffed mushrooms - MAYBE he cajoled Emma into buying for him. Or maybe she made him buy for /himself/. << (are you feeling that?) >> It's not a huge concern; just absent, like people-watching, with a lick along the flavor of Samuel's fax-tone. He does not reach out to grab minds so much as places down a tarp along their outsides to pick up the sentiments of whatever might shake free, intruding little - but translating in to human compulsion as a default. << (do you)(know/know of)(him?) >> Emma's mind brushes back up against Parley's when he checks in on her, no real thoughts exchanged, but something more akin to the absentminded petting of a feline to keep it from deciding to curl up on her keyboard. There is pleasantness involved, as much as the equivalent touch of fur against her fingers might be, but there is no real connection until Parley points out the source of the noise that has also caught her attention. << No, I don't. >> She considers, looking up and looking around for the source, curious as her eyes fall on Samuel. << He hasn't been to any of my events yet. Hm. >> Emma opens up a document on her computer and checks the register of people who have checked in today. << but that narrows it down to only 3 people haven't met before. Do you think he sounds like a banker, gentleman of no employ, or oohhh. IT Security? >> Emma recrosses her legs, letting the slit in her skirt show off a little more thigh, her position in the booth giving her plenty of sight lines to expose a little skin to the rest of the room. She pulls off her glasses and exchanges them for her glass of brandy, eyes following Samuel as he settles in the room, seeing if a little loveliness catches his attention. Sam does notice Emma, his attention rests on her for a moment longer than the rest of the room. He offers her a nod as he notices her looking his way. He takes his seat however. Placing his hand on his phone in what seem almost habit Sam sips his drink, humming a quiet tune to himself. Unaware of the attention he may be drawing. << (IT?) >> Parley licks a trace smudge of mushroom juice off the underside of his wrist. << (a mind like that)(would be adept.) would you like me to engage him (or will you just unbutton your blouse a few notches?) >> He's already /skittering/ sideways in a gleeful expectation of a mental swat - a glee that is not visible on his neutral-curious exterior. << It's far too early in the day to take my tits out for someone I haven't met yet. >> Emma remarks amused yet displeased. She does, however, lean back a little and continue to eye Samuel, taking a long sip from her glass. She nods back and smiles warmly. Her brows quirk upward in a question as she eyes the seat across from her for a moment then looks back up at him. << If he doesn't understand my invitation, then you should approach him. I can feed you questions about his business, if he's the dry sort. >> Samuel nods slowly as Emma motions to the seat. He moves to the table, offering Emma a smile and a bow of his head as he approaches. "Miss Frost I presume? I'm Samuel Griffith, I don't believe we've met?" He speaks with a soft english accent and wears an easy smile as he slips his phone back in his pocket, the first time he's not had direct contact with it since arriving. Samuel nods slowly as Emma motions to the seat. As soon as he's figured out who Emma is he begins to consider the events he may have missed his invitations to, to consider which he'll able to attend and perhaps even those he may be able to help with. Yet his attention soon turns back to Emma as he approaches the table. "Miss Frost? I don't believe we've had the pleasure. I'm Samuel Griffith." He finally slips his phone into his pocket. His attention seperating briefly between glancing over the email someone a few tables away just sent and trying to recall what he missed while locked in his lab. "I don't believe we've been introduced?" << (mmh.) >> Parley observes, somehow managing to be both helpful and unhelpful, watching the pair with a downward-tipped head. << (he has a mind more for business anyway, it seems.)(a pity - it is a nice view of your leg.) >> He grows silent then, fading into the background with a last brush of gliding mental /flank/. Prr. He does enjoy watching her do the things that she does. "It's a pleasure, Mr. Griffith," Emma extends a hand to Samuel as he approaches, tilted at such an angle, it is available for whatever type of greeting he wishes to bestow upon it. "I don't we've had much of a chance of introduction yet, but I am glad for the opportunity!" She closes her laptop and moves it onto the seat next to her, leaving her tablet to her left a little, the screen dimming with disuse. << Strangely enough, I prefer business. >> Emma retorts to the empath, nudging him gently when he brushes up again. She then turns her attention more fully on Samuel. "You seem to know me, so tell me a little about yourself?" Taking the offered hand Sam bows his head over it. Once that's done he finally takes the offered seat with a smile. "Of course. As you are no doubt aware of Griffith Solutions?" He offers a wry grin. "I fear my creative talents aim squarely in the field of computers rather than names." He shrugs a shoulder. "Also as you know I'm a relatively new member of the club, less active than I should have been." He frowns faintly. "I think that would put us on level footing, in regards of knowing each other." He smiles faintly, but in hopes of being a gentleman, I shall also add that I've been taking quite an interest in charities of late. I'm thinking of beginning an organization of my own." He shrugs a shoulder. "But I'll admit that beyond your name, your function as an event coordinator at the club I know nothing of you." "Oh, beyond that, I'm not sure what to say. My work here consumes my life for the most part. There is always something being planned, and with the renovations in the main ball room starting to get underway, I generally have a lot on my plate." Emma confesses, bringing her glass close to her chest, swirling the brandy lightly then taking a sip. "But, if you're curious, I have a degree in electrical engineering. I find it helps me find common ground with the more technically advanced members of our club. If you don't mind me asking, what kind of exciting work have you been doing at Griffith Solutions lately? I love staying up to date with new developments." Nodding Sam laughs. "I fear I know the problem of being consumed by work all too well." He studies Emma for a moment before continuing. His attention turning more firmly to her now that he's done playing with the electronics in the room. "Though my problem is self-inflicted. I have a bad habit of being... Obsessive where my works concerned." He pauses as he seems to consider his next words more carefully. "I've recently been working on several new security measures for banking, internet banking can always be more secure after all." He shrugs a shoulder as he motions to Emma's tablet. "I'm also somewhat considering moving into more hardware heavy fields. I've got several early concepts for a tablet that I think would do well on the competative market." He chuckles quietly. "It's mostly likely a pipe dream at present, brand recognition is what most people look for after all." "Brand recognition is something Hellfire could possibly help you with, if presented correctly. It merely needs to blow all of the other current hardware out of the water and the club would gladly promote it - in our way, of course." Hellfire doesn't exactly have a direct advertising firm, but does have its fingers in a lot of other ones. Emma sets down her glass and leans forward, resting an elbow on the table between them. "What would you do to make your tablet really stand out? New processor? Different type of display? Energy usage?" She is definitely curious. Sam offers a grin. "I'm tempted to work towards holographic displays, the limitation there is of course cross platform compatability. My software's set up for it... I'm not so sure of the more common brands." He smiles faintly. "Not to sound arrogant, my software would be superior to anything rival companies would be releasing." Software's where Sam really shines. "It's my own code base and I suspect no one else is working on anything quite so efficient." It's obvious he has a passion for his field as he discusses the advantages and limitations to Emma, though he very carefully doesn't address the details of his code, the only not of real interest is his apparent slip of implying familiarity with the compeitions current projects. "I don't suppose you have a sandbox I could possibly play in? I'm fairly intrigued, however I... do understand the downsides of having a remarkable system but no applications to really conform to it." Emma is fully engaged during the discussion following along and smiling at points that only those neck deep in the industry could get excited about. "Or well, rather, just the holographic display. I would only use such a thing under supervision and with all of the appropriate noncompetitive agreements signed. I'm keenly interested and really would just love to see what you... your hardware can do." Arching an eyebrow Sam nods slowly. "I can certainly arrange something like that." Sam offers a faint grin as he looks at Emma. "I've been in the process of having my offices refitted with the technology as soon as it became plausible. I generally work from my workshop... Some say I spend too long there in fact. But it does mean that I can afford to let my office double as a test bed for the more... daring technology I'm researching." There is a hint of a child in Emma's eyes at this moment, that of a child faced with the prospect of Disneyland or the /best/ candy store in the world. She smiles widely and lifts her glass once more. "Well, you know where to find me. I would schedule vacation days to get a chance to really get into it with some of your tech people." She takes a sip and lets that glee fall from her expression a little. "I'm sorry. We barely know each other and I'm throwing my intellectual self at you. I hope you'll forgive me." Shrugging Samuel grins. "I'm afraid I'm greedy. I tend to keep my more impressive tech to myself. The standard maintainance and glitch corrections go through my team... But until then it stays with me." He offers an almost guilty grin. "It's why no one sees me for months at a time. I begin a project and don't leave the workshop until it's done." He seems to consider a moment. "I'm more than happy to give you a standard tour of the labs however." He smiles faintly. "And there's no need to ask for forgiveness Miss Frost, I'm just pleased to meet someone who seems interested in my work." He leans forward in his seat slightly, his eyes seeking out Emma's. "I'll admit I am curious as to what I can do to help the club. I've been neglecting my role as a member of late... I'd very much like to change that." "Help the club? Oh, what an interesting concept." Emma stays close on the table, amused by their close proximity now. She takes in a deep breath and lets it out as she swirls the dwindling liquid in her glass. "Well, all Hellfire really wants from any of its members is a continued good name and a portion of their money, which enables the club to turn around and invest through the different branches of her membership, promoting and encouraging growth in the group. Are you wishing to get more involved in the club some how? You mentioned charities before. What kind of charity were you looking at?" "I'd been looking into the local shelters." Shrugging a shoulder Sam seems to give it some thought. "I'm finding myself inclined towards seeing those who have nothing get at least some help." He shrugs a shoulder with a wry grin. "It may be a whim, but then again. It doesn't harm me in anyway so why shouldn't I help others." He frowns as he looks at Emma. "Is there anything on our social calendar I should be aware of? I suppose it wouldn't do to become known as the reclusive member." "We have many reclusive members and no one thinks any less of them." Emma replies, resting her cheek in her hand. "There's nothing really as gauche as a social calendar. Just a long list of hand written invitations to let a person that is desired to attend. I will however include you on my list of possible invitations and invite you to things you may enjoy. It really is too bad that you missed the Oscorp Gala. That would have been right up your alley, but I'm afraid Mr. Osborn did not curry any favor with the end results of that situation, so I don't know if we'll be hosting any more of his events in the future. Did you manage to catch the Latverian Science Symposium?" Shaking his head Samuel laughs. "No, when I said I've spent the last few months working, I meant that literally. I caught some of the broadcasts, but I was in my lab." He nods with a frown. There's a hint of distaste about the way he speaks. "Oscorp's anti-mutant weaponry? I heard a little... I can't say I'm sure I approve. I don't much care for anything that can be used to suggest conflict between the mutant and human populations." "Yes, that is a sticky subject," Emma agrees, turning her glass slowly in front of her. "There's the stance where they say that criminals of sufficient power need countermeasures of equal or greater power in order to defend the populace, not necessarily because any one party is good or bad. On the other hand, you have the notion that if given countermeasures of greater power, then the police and military will use them, not necessarily on just the criminal parties of strength level that demand it." She leans back, less involved in this topic, but definitely interested in Samuel's reaction. "Personally, I prefer the notion of devices that even the playing field by reducing the power level of the greater power, but that is still a gross simplification." "Oh, such methods are always going to be present." Samuel sighs as though he doesn't exactly agree with that. "But I find it crude to openly flaunt the fact that you're focusing on making weapons to deal with a specific type of person... It's inevitably going to breed resentment." He laughs as he raises hand to get the attention of staff. "Not wise when you're not sure who may be a member of the offended party?" He shrugs a shoulder as a waiter approaches. "Can I get you a drink?" "I'll have another peach brandy, thank you." Emma smiles a little at the proposed drink and wets her lips a little. "Careful holding such an opinion about mutant countermeasures in these hallowed halls. Some might think you a mutant, having such sympathies." She chuckles a little and awakens her tablet to check the time. "Though, I may need to get going soon." Nodding Samuel glances at the waiter. "And I'll have your best rum." He waits until the waiters gone before he shrugs a shoulder to Emma, blissfully unaware that he's already obvious to her to be something other than a baseline human. "Perhaps, or perhaps I'm simply concerned that Oscorps counter measures will lead to a conflict they're not capable of winning." Shrugging a shoulder Samuel grins. "The truth is I simply find it... Crass." He then pauses. "I am surprised to find an anti-mutant sentiment to the club however." "Come now, it's an old boys club, no matter how you look at it. It's only in the last decade or three that they've dispensed with women in go go boots and naught more than underwear serving your drinks... and other personal needs." Emma finishes off her brandy and smiles at his drink choice, hir brow rising. "The eighties were kind to the female membership, and the nineties managed to cement us as valued members of staff and sponsorship, but I'm fairly sure there are a few members I keep off my back with a low cut shirt from time to time." She sets down her glass. "Time does not progress rapidly here. Old sentiments are held for a long, long time." "Old prejudices die hard it's true." Sam can't help but grin as he looks at Emma. "However power and the hope of exploiting such tend to kill that quicker than anything else." He looks around the room, for the first time since arriving apparently giving the members present serious consideration. "These halls are home to the powerful, it's the clubs strength... Most of its members no doubt hope to exploit that." He shrugs a lazy shoulder. "Whatever else they may be, mutants certainly seem to offer new avenues to power." He takes a gulp of his drink as it arrives. "Still time shall tell." "Do not underestimate a dying breed unwilling to accept a lower status than the top of the top and the cream of the crop. They will cause mutants a great deal of problems before they give up their chairs of industry and power." Emma moves her tablet to sit on top of her laptop and gathers both into her arms. She starts sliding out of her chair carefully, getting to her feet by the time the drinks arrive. She accepts her glass and lifts it to her table companion. "I shall be in touch, Mr. Griffith, as I look forward to that private tour of your facilities." She widens her smile and takes a drink before taking herself and that glass out with her. Nodding Samuel stands as Emma does, apparenly he's got his share of old fashioned habits. He raises his glass to her before taking a slow sip. "I look forward to it immensely. Thank you for the company Miss Frost... You saved me from the expected afternoon of reading emails and texts." He grins at that before once more removing his phone from his pocket, returning to his seat and slowly sipping his drink.