2011 01 27 Taking Steps

Log Title:
Taking Steps

Tessa and Captain Britain

IC Date:

Hellfire Club, London

Brief log summary::
Brian has business with Tessa, he's interested in the London Inner Circle


There is no TS in this log::

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We open with Brian standing just outside Tessa's suite located within the wing of the Hellfire Club where guests may stay over night. Brian has changed into something for the evening, another dark blue suit, red tie, and well pressed shirt - looking somewhat stuffy. Promptly upon the hour in question, he knocks upon the door and awaits Tessa's opening of the portal.

The door opens on the image of Tessa dressed in a form-fitting, black dress, accented by sparkling sequins and cut outs that take her up to the very edge of a scandal. A thick cuff bracelet and glossy heels with red soles are stylish accessories, but its her skin that steals the show. Candlelight from the room beyond lends radiance to an already luminous complexion.

"Hello again, Mr. Braddock," Tessa greets him, her voice soft yet still retaining its disciplined cadence. "You're on time. I hadn't expected that." She teases, but her only hint of humor lies in the subtle flash and cant around her lined eyes.

Stepping aside, the makes a sweeping gesture as a welcome. "Do come inside and make yourself comfortable."

His appreciative eyes are filled with the lines and curves of sensual beauty. His lips part, first to breathe and then to note, "That dress looks amazing on you." and then will step inside of the suite giving it a quick glance over as he will be heading for the sofa.

There is only a knowing smile in response to that compliment, and its sagacious regard rises up to meet the look in her blue eyes. "Really, I'm beginning to question the veracity of the rumors about you. The Sun Times insists that you are the embodiment of the modern playboy; impetuous, brash, spoiled and chronically delinquent."

The door meets the jamb as she walks away, her attention fully focused on her guest. The candlelight infused air smells of curry and other fragrant spices and Barber's Adagio plays in the background. "Speaking of which, how is Meggan?"

Brian removes his jacket, laying it nicely across the back of a chair between the entryway and the sofa then while responding, "Meggan is well. But the Times knows nothing more than what I allow. And rumors are more interesting than reality." He then takes a seat with the arm of the sofa to his left flank.

"I would argue that truth is always stranger than fiction. Such is the way of the human condition. If only we could take a step back and observe ourselves with more objectivity, then surely we would all come to realize that we are all cursed to live in interesting times." She speaks in a way that is thoughtful, but still offhand in its manner.

"For the sake of making this evening all the more interesting, may I offer you a drink, Mr. Braddock?" She is already in motion toward a small, but extravagant bar with provisions that would put most lounges to shame. Her steps are scored by the clicks of tall heels moving over hardwood and marble, intermingled with the soft percussion born from a Persian rug.

"That would be nice, thank you." Brian responds to the offer and then with a minor pause while his eyes follow her movements across the room, he segues and notes, "I must confess; My invitation to dinner was not of a purely social one. As I've questions and interests that could not be discussed in our earlier forum."

Raven locks are styled away from her richly featured face and then pinned back as a sculptural frame. A subtle smokiness enhances eyes that take nothing for granted and creamy crimson gloss makes her tiniest smiles grand gestures.

"Well, of course," Tessa replies, the sounds of gently clinking glass and the pouring of spirits play in the background. "It's only logical that you would want to question me about current events and the tumult playing out in New York. You want answers and I wanted an excuse to dress up. It's all win/win tonight. Don't you think so?"

A truly perceptive man would notice how one corner of her mouth twitches with a light smirk as she hands him a scotch and then moves to take the empty seat just to Brian Braddock's right.

The leather is cool and makes leathery noises as he shifts after taking the glass, "Thank you. But in reality, it wasn't my intent to pump you for information about that particular event. More along the lines of whether or not if you knew there was an Inner Circle within the London club."

The Inner Circle isn't known to the general populace of the HFC. Brian is currently just an elite member, but not privy to Inner Circle knowledge. And his question is likely 'fishing' for additional information. Perhaps leading up to him wanting /in/ on an inner circle situation in the London Club. There is currently an Inner Circle and it's likely that Tessa knows all about it. Having had dealings between the two inner circles of respective clubs.

The hostess' drink of choice is a sensual merlot; visibly rich and extraordinarily fragrant. As Braddock fishes, Tessa dips- wetting her lips and then brushing off the excess with pampered fingertips.

"In time, Mr. Braddock, you will come to find that there is precious little I don't know." Her eyes flash with a mischief that doesn't quite reach the indifference expressed in the thin line between her voluptuous lips. "And since we are both well aware of the answer to your question, why not get to the point and ask the questions you're wanting to?"

She shifts just slightly, adjusting her position so that one leg curls under the other and an arm lightly stretches along the back of the leather sofa. Her slender figure seems to writhe under the dress that closely sheathes her as she angles to face the other."

With the drink in his left hand, he takes a sip as she replies to his query and challenges him to press forward instead of dancing about. His right arm raises to the back of the leather sofa, his fingertips able to find the back of her very own elevated wrist and hand. His eyes cannot help but notice the movements of her form within the fabric. "From my understanding, there are positions named for chess pieces and that there may be one or two openings therein. I would be interested in such a title."

"My, my," Tessa teases, the mirth finally catching up with her lips and curling them into a slight bow. "A playboy with ambitions and dreams of power. Impressive."

She pauses to drink from her glass, or perhaps she drinks from her glass to take pause. Regardless, as the siren drinks she reaches out with her mind to test the waters of the other's consciousness and scry for the thoughts that play against the surface.

"So then, if I am to understand you correctly, then you also assume that should such a title exist, then I am in a position to help you obtain it. Is that correct?"

"Correct." Brian answers assured that their hypothetical subject is indeed reality. Then he follows his statement as his fingertips make light passes in wavy patters across the back of her hand, "Of course I realize that ventures of this magnitude do not come free nor would your services. In this, I am quite able to recopence."

Despite her reputation of being an ice princess, Tessa's skin is warm, silken a fragrant. His gentlest touch leaves a trail of goose bumps in its wake. Whatever sensations play at the edges of her mind, the woman's focus does not waver. She stares into the other's eyes, searching.

"What you seek, Mr. Braddock, is Power and there is nothing wrong with such ambition. The Hellfire Club is very exclusive, and the stratified societies that make up its core become even more so the deeper one descends.

"Truly, power is nothing without the grace and gentility necessary to wield it properly. I see in you the potential for greatness, but greatness requires sacrifice. If you are willing to do that, then perhaps - perhaps, I can be an asset to you."

Making some lite of the matter, Brian states, "As I do not have a first born, what sacrifice might you be referring to?", while his fingertips all touch upon the backs of her respective fingers and draw in a straight line up, across her knuckles and to the back of her hand then her delicate wrist where his thumb caresses the inside joint and his lesser finger the outer joint. His eyes remain within hers with slight dilation and bearing some intensity of the subject. Perhaps that subject is her.

In the candlelight Tessa seems thoughtful, her eyes lowered to the gentle clasp of hands just as her free one covers him. The flickering plays in her eyes and over the silken vistas of toned, satiny flesh. "The Inner Circle is no place for good men, Mr. Braddock. In fact, it is haven to the wickedest among the wicked.

"Real power does more than buy you expensive houses and the jets to take you to and from them. Real power allows one to shape national policy, to save or damn cities, to not only conquer your enemies but to hit them so hard their ancestors will feel their pain for centuries to come.

"You may want to rise above such dealings, but once you opt to get down in the mud and the muck with the Inner Circle, there is no turning back to climb out and save your soul. You will be stuck in it, for better or for worse. Can you," she pauses, lifting her face and canting it just so as she looks into Braddock's eyes, "Can you, as Captain Britain, live with the consequences of such a decision?"

"I suppose there wasn't any hope in believing that knowledge would escape your keen senses." Brian refers to her knowing that he is in fact Captain Britain. "Then you should know this as well; That corruption has conspired against Britain herself. Such things cannot go unpunished nor can they be allowed to continue. I can see that the inner circle is easily corrupted, as power does to most. Yet it also has the potential to do much good. It is through this interest that I make my bid for membership."

The expression of her features shifts with her thoughts. Indeed, the feeling expressed though Tessa's lined eyes and crimson lips is one of sympathy. She sighs the sigh of one whose warnings can do nothing to alter the course of disaster.

A light caress strokes his cheek as she comments, "Such an idealist. I don't suppose it could have gone any other way. I will be your sage, Mr. Braddock, and help to guide you to that which you seek. As for terms, we will discuss them another time. Suffice it to say that I have my own reasons for helping you." Once again her eyes flash with mischief that she manages to suppress at her lips.

"The deal is done, for us. Soon, very soon, you will have what you desire. I will see to it."

There's only a moment of reflection as his eyes avert down and slightly to the left. Even the corners of his mouth have the hint of a smile while he considers the very near future and his own designs.

Then only a second will pass before his blue eyes once again lift with renewed direction and he states, "Right. Now, care to have an evening upon London-town?"

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