4783/Lifestyle of Rich and Famous: Jessica Jones (who is neither)

Lifestyle of Rich and Famous: Jessica Jones (who is neither)
Date of Scene:	01 July 2018
Location:	Hefllire Clube, New York City
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Jessica Jones, Black Queen

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Jessica Jones has posed:
The Hellfire Club, a mecca of affluence, fame and glamour. The upper echelon of society adores being there, adores being seen there, and adores being reported to having been there. All of life's pleasures, all of life's luxuries, guranteed to members and patrons of the club. Sure there may be a secret or two here and there, but most are unaware.

Tonight was Jessica Jones' unlikely chance to sample the riches the Hellfire Club has to offer, thanks to a case she solved for one of the Kings of Wallstreets, sure, she usually doesn't help rich assholes. But the man had the cash, and was actually being setup big time, he didn't deserve to fall because of a lie. So Jess helped him (mostly because Alias Investigations needed renovations). Her reward was a one time free access no questions asked to the Hellfire Club, the guy knew how Jessica loves to drink, and he knew she knew what fine alcohol was served at the Hellfire Club.

Only problem, Jessica really doesn't have the kind of dresses and gowns worn by regular club members, nope, she just showed up in her ratty jeans and rugged leather jacket, with a Nirvana shirt underneath, no less.

Still, rules are rules, and being a special guest of a well respected member allowed Jessica entry. It's okay, she wasn't here to snoop, she went straight for the bar. "Macallan, oldest you got," she made her order quite simply, "neat of course."

Black Queen has posed:
It's true that Macallan has only ever released a 72 year old scotch, but that's if you are counting from the time they started thinking that far ahead, not from a person buying it a long time ago and keeping it preserved. No, here at the Hellfire there's a 186 year old Macallan, just past the first year that the company was even founded. Certainly with other kinds of liquor there would be even older.

There's no money that exchanges hands here, the bartenders and waitstaff do not seek or request tips and people are not expected to bring them in. Even the etiquette of the place sort of indicates that the staff is well compensated, so well that there need be none of that going on. And secrets, they will still keep. So, the bartender pulls off a mid-shelf scotch, Macallan, very old, and he pours the woman a drink. "Neat, of course." The man says in a rich baritone, smiling genuinely as he eyes the woman a moment and leaves the bottle on the counter, "Yours, though I can keep pouring for you if you wish?"

From a distance Selene spots the woman who comes in. There's a disturbance in the fanciness of the place, really there's a lot of people who start murmuring and whispering a bit. Outfits here cost more than expensive luxury vehicles, and Jessica Jones is the Pinto of said fashion at this point, if that. Taking a step away from one guest, smiling, she just tips her head and walks smoothly in the direction of the bar, "A Macallan fan? Delightful choice." She says with one of those educated tones wealthy people tend to have, "And for such an interesting lady. I am Selene. Who do I owe this rare, and limited pleasure?"

Jessica Jones has posed:
"You don't say..." Jessica is quite impressed as the bottle is left by her side, "I can manage pouring without help, good god gave me two hands, I can very well use them." To say Jess is a bit uncouth for this place would be a huge understatement. She is rather taken with the handsome bartender, a far better look than the miserable sort she usually gets served by (apologies Josie, you're a wonderful woman, but not beautiful and not delightful).

Soon, however, she is distracted by a voice. The sort of voice that doesn't generally address her at all, oozing of high society. "Yes..., I know how to pick my drinks, even if I don't look it." She turns to look at Selene, "hi there, Selene, I'm Jessica Jones of Alias Investigations, don't worry, not here to investigate you good people. Just got a favor from a friend, so here I am drinking fine ass booze." Utterly charming no doubt. As Jessica pays closer attention to Selene's dress, she notes, "bet I that dress costs more than my apartment, I'm impressed. Fine establishment they got here, huh?"

Black Queen has posed:
The bartender just gives Jessica a smile and a nod to her comment about hands, in a genuinely friendly tone before he is off to serve another customer. He smoothly makes his way between guests who come up to the bar to order and then usually they just head away without a word. He knows most of the guests, knows what they want to drink, and depending on who they brought with them if they need 1 or 2 servings, and if those booze need to be different. Yes, a catalog of drinks for the upper crust, and his hands deftly make the drinks and has them prepared about the same moment most of those guests arrive at the bar.

One such drink is being taken down and poured for Selene. A wine, old, the bottle's label seems practically ancient, or at least a few hundred years. There's a bit of a chuckle, a pleased smile comes to Selene's lips as she shakes her head ever so lightly causing her well made up hair to bounce a bit, "Oh, do not fret my dear, I am not worried about your business here. The membership has terms, and when extended appropriately then you are fully able to partake in the accommodations present." Waving an impartial hand in the direction of the room itself, she doesn't look in that direction, instead she offers a softer smile with the compliment, "Trust me, your apartment complex probably is worth as much as the dress, if it accomplishes that. No, one of a kind, Gabanna and Dolce's top designer made it for me. I refuse to allow them to market it." It's an easy enough comment, like someone talking about their 'horrible' day before she asks, "Please, drink up. By all means, though many will consider you a spectacle of sorts, a novelty perhaps? And, thank you, I do so run a very fine establishment." With that she so carefully grabs her wine glass and sips at the drink, while gleefully looking over Jessica's 'outfit'.

Jessica Jones has posed:
"Oh, don't worry, Jessica Fucking Jones isn't likely to be extended full membership anytime soon, but I was invitied by a member for one night, drink all I can...and drink I can," she rises her glass at Selene and downs it before simply grabbing the bottle, and drinking directly from it. Quite uncultured, but she doesn't seem to give a damn. "Oh...a spectacle? Moi?" Jessica mutters in her horrid French, before getting up and literally shouting at the place, "any of you rich bastards bothered by the fact I can't afford a decent outfit? No? Awesome. We cool." She then sits down and looks at Selene, "see? No spectacle anymore, all settled."

Black Queen has posed:
When Jessica stands up and shouts there's a quiet that goes over the chatter, and it takes a few moments after for the room to pick back up to where it was, mostly ignoring the woman again Though glances keep going in her direction from time to time, though Selene just claps a little bit, "Bravo." She mentions, and keeps smiling, "I am sure you can drink. Please, continue though. I would say that you are the first meta we have had in the Hellfire Club, but I cannot disclose the nature of our members. So, I cannot say that even." She laughs lightly and sips some more of her wine, "I do wish to say, that for whatever you lack in outfit, you make up for in presence. And quite frankly, most of the people here are rather like a butter knife used far too long on sand paper. Now me? I am something of an antiques conniseur, and that takes a great deal of research. It is difficult work, but you are an investigator, that must require some... knowhow and patience as well, though I bet it holds much more excitement than urns and vases at museums?"

Jessica Jones has posed:
"Oh fuck me sideways, these Rising Tides assholes just had to go share dirty laundry with the world, and they think they are freedom fighters, for fucks sake," Jessica groans, clearly not happy about Selene already knowing she's meta, and she drinks some more straight from the bottle. If only to calm herself, it wouldn't do to get tossed out of a place a client saw fit to invite her to on his merit. "Sure...PI has it's moments, but it's a lot of digging in trash and trailing people without them noticing. Some staging of calls and fakeouts, you know, do what you can to get the good the police can't." She does take a bit of a bow with her head, appreciating the compliment to her presence, that was nice of Selene to put it politely. Someone like Emma might have proved more vicious, then again, Selene is likely wiser when it comes to knowing when to entertain and when to bite. Albeit Selene can bite quite literally, so people better watch out!

Black Queen has posed:
Selene Gallio really likes to bite, but there's more than one way to skin a cat, you don't always have to do it with your teeth even if that's the most fun way. Though smirking a bit, Selene kind of waves off the whole Rising Tide thing, "Oh, pish posh, you should be proud of your... specialness. It is far better than having inherited your father's estate and then thinking yourself a good business man." Selene just rolls her eyes, "That said, modern economics in general, very..." She takes a pause to sip at her wine before grumbling a little in her tone, "It makes simply no sense." Then she smiles again and shakes her head, "But politics, economics, not the things I would wager you are interested in. Though digging around in trash does not sound very glamorous, it gets the job done. I like that. A person who understands that sometimes you have to do dirty, sometimes somewhat underhanded things to win. I am lucky the antiques world is not so cutthroat, else I might be in way over my head. Could you imagine, me" she puts a hand on the space between her dress's plunging neckline to indicate herself, "rummaging through a trash can? I do not think I would have your... zeal."

Jessica Jones has posed:
Jessica looks closely at Selene as she talks, taking note of it, she is a PI after all. She's not as easily fooled as most would assume, just because she looks a mess and drinks like an entire football team after winning some cup or other. "I'd wager you're the sort of woman who would pay someone else to rummage in the trash for her, but don't think for one second I buy that you wouldn't have that trash rummaged if you had to..." she rises the bottle, "and I'll drink to that, I appreciate fancy women who are more than just trinkets in a dress for their rich disgusting men." There, she said it, and she does drink to it.

Black Queen has posed:
Pointing at you with her well manicured finger and tipping her head, Selene laughs a bit as she sips her wine in toast, "You got me." She holds up both of her hands like she's being arrested, or more to the point having a gun pointed at her, though her dainty hold on her wine glass wouldn't fit that scenario. "I would pay if there were trash I needed. Hell, I might even supervise." She offers a little shrug of her shoulders and a mirthfilled grin, "And, again, you are right. There is no man who could wears me. No woman either, frankly. As sparkly as I am, too weighty to be worn." She puts her hands down and takes another sip of her wine, barely going through it even percentage wise compared to you and the bottle. "Though I sense some venom behind your words, was there perhaps a disgusting man in your life at one point in time?"

Jessica Jones has posed:
Jessica nods, her feelings about people generally proved to be true. She had good intuition. But then comes the question that's far more loaded than Selene could ever anticipate, "Was there...?" She repeats the question before drinking about a half of the bottle. A long pause to drink all that whisky, before she finally mutters, "only the worst man ever devised by the devil himself, if he was real."

Black Queen has posed:
There's a bit more of a serious tone when Selene mentions, "Oh, he is real." She offers and waits a moment, "Though he does not devise men." There are countless lives that Selene has lived, far more than even her thus far immortal life has had a chance to live. Every life she's taken, somewhere inside of her psyche, and so she has been both the victim and the perpetrator of horrible and unspeakable things. Though her eyes just squint a little, as her lips curl into a smile, "The Hellfire Club is a place of letting go. A location to burn your sins away and the sins that have been done to you. Not, in the sense to make you clean, but to muck it up a bit. You are here, whatever your dream, your desire, whatever you dream about doing to, him. Can be had here... somewhere. For in Hellfire we are all the same. And if you find yourself naked and burning, you might as well have a dance." She sips her wine again, and that is the last of it before she gently settles the glass on the bar, so gently it really doesn't make a sound. "What is it, if you had no walls, no barriers, no fears, that you would wish for in this moment? Just one chance, one wish fulfilled. As if I were a prisoner of some lamp?"

Jessica Jones has posed:
Jessica chuckles at the tone Selene takes with her, if she didn't know better, she'd be certain the woman might have actually met the devil to make the claim so seriously. Jessica seems to have drank the bottle empty, as she slams it a bit too loudly on the bar's counter. Then again, with how much she drank, it's lucky she didn't break the bottle. Or was it simply the topic of conversation at hand? "One thing I know for sure is to never make a wish, because you just might get it," she doesn't elaborate on why she says it, only mutters, "I think I've drank my fill, thank you for the kind offer," and just like that she heads for the exit. Likely much to the relief of most patrons.