2492/Madam Secretary

Madam Secretary
Date of Scene:	18 September 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Monet St. Croix, the Black Rook, approaches the silent secretary of the Hellfire Club-- Tessa.
Cast of Characters:	M, Tessa

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M has posed:
Monet St. Croix has been making some surprising waves with the Inner Circle of the Hellfire Club, since arriving only a week or two prior. Selene Gallio had taken quite a shine to the new woman, to the point they'd almost instantly entered into conspiratorial huddlings that were anything but innocent.

Monet had been appointed as the Black Rook not long after, and her wealth, power, and privilege made few ready to challenge the position.

But perhaps unlike many others in the Inner Circle, one of the first appointments Monet makes is not with her counterpart in the White, or potential allies among the upper echelon.

The Monagasque beauty reaches out to Tessa, the mutant secretary.

The invitation to a meeting was sent via discreet channels, and Tessa invited to join Monet (at the secretary's convenience) in one of the back rooms. It's a nod of respect for Tessa's position; normally, people wait on Monet St. Croix.

When Tessa arrives, Monet is sitting on a low divan with a glass of wine in one hand and a book in the other; she wears tight black trousers, stiletto heels, and a flowing sleeveless silk shirt in a deep cream color, almost pink under certain lights.

Tessa has posed:
Tessa's reply was punctual, almost immediate - an acceptance. The secretary of the Hellfire Club, and more importantly, of the Inner Circle, was known for her speed and ability to juggle multiple things at a time, always having an inane number of tasks at once, all completed dutifully and in good time. As such, Tessa's arrival to the back room was equally timely, as if she set for the room just as she accepted.

The secretary does not knock, instead opening the door slowly, stepping forward three steps before stopping to take a brief glance at her surroundings, head and eyes tilting only slightly to take the whole room in. The Eastern-European woman's outfit is out of another time, from a far more open era - a black corset and very short shorts, which almost can't even be called that; long-heeled boots that lead into black stockings that extend to right above her knees; and a billowing black cloak that stops right as it hits the ground. Tessa's stance is firm, not an inch of slouching, as she steps forward and speaks, her voice even and without an accent. "Miss St. Croix. I did not keep you waiting." Stated as a matter of fact, instead of a usual question. Her eyes glance only briefly at the book, taking in the cover and the binding to see what Monet is reading, before she continues. "I thank you for your invitation. You requested to meet with me. What would you like to discuss?"

M has posed:
Monet gives Tessa a lazy once-over, and her lips purse in approval at the attire. She looks up at Tessa's face, then inclines her head and gestures for Tessa to seat herself. For a younger woman, Monet holds herself with a haughty confidence that borders on arrogance. But the touch of her mind to Tessa's indicates a telepath of no trivial strength, and a powerful, forceful personality behind it.

"You did not keep me waiting, merci," Monet agrees, speaking urbanely with a heavy French inflection. "Your outfit," she remarks. "Eet reminds me of the historical attire for the Club."

"Tell me, Tessa, if you please-- why do you dress zis way?" she inquires, book set aside. Fingertips drag a glissando note from her wineglass rim, then she takes another sip. "It was a custom once long ago, but no longer required to wear such... intimate apparel."

Tessa has posed:
Tessa moves as requested, crouching to take a seat, legs firmly against each other. She makes eye contact with Monet, but while she'd feel Monet's telepathic touch, Monet would have incredible difficulty getting anything out of her, even passive surface thoughts. A 'mental firewall' is in place, a skill so very useful as for Tessa's job, even if it has the drawback of making her incapable of using her own telepathic abilities.

"Indeed, that is the source for the design. It's not the most comfortable of outfits, but it gives an accent of what the Club is, I suppose." Tessa doesn't seem too certain of that, as she's very quick to reply to Monet's reason on why she dresses like that. "Shaw chose the outfit for me when he brought me onto the fold." If Tessa's actually uncomfortable with the outfit, though, it's not clear. "This is my outfit while serving the Hellfire Club directly."

Tessa looks over Monet some more. Since she can't use her telepathy, she'll have to read the woman the old-fashioned way, try and size her up. Knowing who you're dealing with is a classic game in this sort of group, after all, though Tessa's lucky that she doesn't have too many quirks of motion. Being able to take in things like a snapshot helps with that. "Though, you did not call me in to discuss my apparel, and likely not for mere idle chatter, either. While I have no qualms, if you have more important business, then perhaps we should address such." No impatience to her tone. No...much of anything to her tone. It's almost robotic, but not literally. Emotion is practically suppressed.

M has posed:
Monet's a tough read. She has exquisite self control, making some of her microexpressions very tricky to interpret. Cool, aloof, immaculately measured in every response. And there's something a bit /off/ about her, too, fighting even some of the tiny involuntary motions common to most people, the twitches, the flutterings of muscle.

"I did not bring you in to discuss fashion, no," Monet concedes. "I wanted to meet you and get to know you better, given that I'm the newest member of the Inner Circle." She lifts one shoulder-- this isn't news to Tessa. The Black Rook had a well-publicized recruitment.

"And yet, if you would please indulge me-- answer the question, all the same," she requests of Tessa, with a gentle imperiousness. "Were it not for Shaw placing those garters on you like a yoke, /would/ you dress that way, given your own choice?"

She peers at Tessa intensely, trying to do her own measuring of the woman across from her.

Tessa has posed:
If you couldn't hide your expressions, you wouldn't survive into the Inner Circle, or atleast, not with any real power. Tessa's eyes remain focused, nodding once regarding that she's the newest member. "Of course. We will be working together, after all."

Tessa's emotional tics are practically non-existent, and she sits with her back away from the door. Even in a sitting position, her posture is entirely proper - no swaying of legs, no uncalculated movements, could be practically a statue if she wasn't breathing. It takes her only a few seconds to parse and answer Monet's question, her tone finally having something to it - firmness, slight distaste. "I would not. The outfit is impractical in several ways, with heels being difficult on stairs, cloaks being dangerous and easy to catch, the rigidness of the corset preventing ease of movement, and a lack of overall protection, with several areas exposed." There's a pause, before Tessa continues. "To intercept an expected future question, I would wear a suit, fitted to me, if I had complete choice. It would be slightly loose to allow flexible arm and leg movement." For a secretary, she sure has an interesting use for her clothes. But then again, she's the secretary of the Inner Circle. Her body is that of an athlete: while lean, she has muscle, and her body overall is one of someone who exercises very regularly. "Does that satisfy the question?"

M has posed:
"Very adequately," Monet reassures Tessa. She sits upright a little more, and pours a glass of wine to set in front of Tessa's position. The Monagasque beauty leans back against the divan's low armrest, sipping her own wine-- she leaves it to Tessa to decide if she will drink hers or not.

"I have been involved in business for most of my life, Tessa," Monet explains. "I know zat ze surest way to speak to a CEO is not to harass him, but to appeal to his secretary. I know you must see things; you know things, guard secrets for the entire Inner Circle."

She purses her lips. "Once upon a time, women were... accessories, here," she tells Tessa. "Hence ze attire. When Emma and Selene arrived, they were forced to bow to those rules-- at least until zhey rose in stature enough to break them," she remarks.

"I see in zhis chapter of the club, ze decadence of inertia. It is debauched hedonism. Which," she allows, "ees not necessarily a /bad/ thing... but not when zhere remains work to do," she says.

"I intend to ensure that work continues to be done. To grow the Club's authority and power," she explains. "Perhaps I can do zhis alone, perhaps not, but-- I can say that anyone who supports my labors, will not be forced to wear anything they did not /choose/ to wear." She lifts a brow at Tessa, as if ensuring the point is well received.

Tessa has posed:
Tessa does not drink the wine, though she does acknowledge the glass with a glance. Her fingers move up to her chin as Monet speaks, a glint of understanding, of studying in her eyes. If it wasn't apparent that Tessa was a highly analytical person, it is now, as every glance studies every movement Monet makes, even if the glances are near-imperceptible. When Monet finishes speaking, Tessa waits a few seconds to be sure she is done, before expressing her own thoughts.

"The Hellfire Club is stagnating, yes. Actual action by the Inner Circle is rare, and the club is less than it could be." With that same clear tone as before, she bashes her own employers, almost too ready to do so. "Those who wish to further the Hellfire Club are certainly better. A strong Inner Circle that cooperates to move forward is better than one that stands still, perpetually scheming without any fruition." Her language is careful, tone designated to not seem as an attack, a threat, or even an agreement with Monet.

Tessa continues, removing her hand from her chin to set on the wine glass, which she does not lift. "What a grand goal. One that certainly changes things up. But as you've asked questions, I'll ask my own. Do you really think you can pull the Inner Circle around to cooperate?" Eyes shut, momentarily. In Tessa's mind, everything is going over what's being discussed. Optimal courses of action, possible outcomes...

"Though, of course, this conversation will stay between us. As two women who seek to better aid this club and the members within."

M has posed:
Monet shrugs. A neutral, even ambivalent gesture-- but she doesn't conceal the small, sly smile curling up the corner of her mouth at Tessa's observations.

"I think," she says carefully. "Zhat I bring a ... unique perspective to things here. The status quo has been 'go along with me, because I am ze leader'," she explains. "Rightness emphasized by power, instead of power following ze rightness of action."

"I believe zhat it is foolhardy and arrogant to say zhat anyone-- even myself, or Shaw, or Emma-- could grip the Inner Circle by ze nose, and lead them to water," she remarks. "On ze other hand, perhaps what we have been lacking is... a vision?" she tries. "A goal. Something to unite us with purpose," she says.

"Of course, it becomes up to you to decide if you wish to unite behind purpose, or support zhe trappings of a monarchy," she points out. "One who has forgotten one of zhe deep trueism of the crown-- noblesse oblige."

Tessa has posed:
"You are quite correct. One alone could not control the Inner Circle. Several could." Tessa actually takes a sip of the wine, now, drawing it out just slightly to be noticeable. "But a shared goal would certainly be refreshing. Something to do, instead of personal schemes that dance and conflict against each other." There's a crinkle in her eyes as they meet Monet's again.

"But what do you see in our future, Miss St. Croix? To want a vision is one thing, to find one another, and to find one that holds water is a third." These are the words spoken with the most emotion Tessa's spoken the whole time. They're challenging, but interested, words that want to see if Monet has the ideas to back her words.

"I very much think we'll have to discuss more in the future. After all, an Inner Circle is strongest standing /together/, are they not?" The slightest of smiles, lips turning upwards just enough to indicate where Tessa stands. "As they say, 'united we stand, divided we fall'."