5308/Dinner Date

Dinner Date
Date of Scene:	05 September 2018
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	John takes Emma Frost on date meant for someone else at the fanciest spot in town and an understanding is reached.
Cast of Characters:	Constantine, Emma Frost

---

Constantine has posed:
OOC: This scene precedes Germination: Float Down Here

The invite came through Mr. and Mrs Diamonte of the Georgian Creeds themselves. Confirming a 7pm dinner reservation at their establishment through Emma's line at Frost Industries. If asked who the reservation is with, the woman on the other end of phone lowers her voice to a whisper as if she's afraid the name might bring undo attention of some horrible thing, "John Constantine," she says.

At the appointed hour, John is waiting outside, chewing gum and playing with his lighter. He's dressed as he was at the Hellfire Club in his trench coat, button down shirt, and slacks. Though this time at least he's taken the time to have them washed and pressed and his shoes look recently polished, even his tie is done up right rather than hanging loosely about his neck.

He was at least, making something of an effort, figuring his odds were good that if Emma showed up at all, it would be to exact revenge for that kiss.

Emma Frost has posed:
Very few things came through to Emma's personal line. She had a secretary (several, in fact) to deal with most things, and a personal assistant to vet the rest. When Paolo forwarded the call and suggested that Ms. Frost might like to tend to this one herself, Emma had been irritated. When the call was from Georgian Creeds, the irritation had become curiosity.

When Helene Diamonte had whispered John's name, Emma was well and truly intrigued. Hooked, even.

She arrives in a chauffeur driven car. A gamble, perhaps. It does leave her at the mercy of waiting for a ride to return to pick her up, but then again, the Diamontes wouldn't leave her to fend for herself should John prove to be a boor.

For herself, she wears a pantsuit in antique white, with a satin ribbon at her throat, set with a thumbnail sized blue sapphire. It's the only spot of colour to the woman but for her subtle makeup, and nails that have been done in a glossy black enamel.

Stepping out of the vehicle, she has her driver wait - just long enough to greet John and decide whether or not she's actually going to embark upon this meal.

"Well, would you look who the cat dragged in. One wonders how it is that you keep showing up where the rich and famous come to play. I happen to know the Diamontes aren't likely to have needed your particular.. shall we call them services? So, I'm curious, how did you manage to pull this off?"

She allows something of a smile. "You are aware that this place comes with a price, yes?"

Constantine has posed:
John swallow the gum when the car pulls into view slipping his lighter into his pocket as he does. When Emma steps out he takes a moment take in he ensemble which to the surprise of no one puts his to shame.

John smiles at the questions, ?Working class envy, I suppos? curious to see how the one percent live,... he says in glib reply to his preference for the playgrounds of the wealthy. In reality it was just luck, he tended to be where he needed to be as a matter of course, upper class, working class, it made no difference. Though it?s the other two questions that really bring out the smugness in his smile.

?The price is all handled, as for how, well, you seemed to be intrigued when I has secrets last time, does this one worth your company at dinner?? he asks.

Emma Frost has posed:
Of course Emma puts him to shame - though she's not actually dressed to kill. It hovers over the edge of casual, and sits firmly up against dressy, without straying into that territory. Emma just has standards she likes to keep. An illusion she creates. And John hadn't yet been invited in past the erected barriers to peek at the reality of the woman behind them.

"Interesting," Emma murmurs, inclining her head to John, and tapping on the hood of her car, letting the driver know he may leave now, that she's decided to stay.

"I must say, I was surprised when I got the call from Helene. She seemed a little bit uncertain if she should be passing along your invitation or not. But come, let's go inside and finish this conversation in comfort."

Constantine has posed:
John knew all about presenting an image. He'd been something of wanna-be rockstar once, and carried that swagger with him now, even as his dreams of punk rock swagger were left well behind. Still, wearing what he was wearing here sent it's own message: the rules don't apply. Having the outfit pressed was a way to thumb his nose at the whole business.

That said, Emma's outfit definitely made it's own impressions, very much in keeping with what he'd seen of her so far.

"Definitely better than being out here on the street,," John says smiling as the car pulls away. He offers her his arm before starting in towards the restaurant. "I prefer to be sitting while interrogated," he jokes lightly as he opens the door for Emma.

Emma Frost has posed:
John's outfit is noted. It was noted even before Emma had gotten out of the vehicle. As was the gum he was chewing and subsequently swallowed. She was still trying to decide if she was amused at his moxy, or preparing to be bored. But given their last encounter, Emma was willing to entertain the notion that the evening might be quite enjoyable.

Or close to that.

"So, which room did you book?" Emma slides her arm through his, not merely because he offered, but because it was part and parcel of the story they were creating. Both presenting in aspects of disdain at the status quo. Her for having a life she'd had to engineer this way; him, at the notion of class and culture - and yet, here they were at Georgian Creeds, a place so exclusive you had to know it existed to book an evening, and it didn't exist on any website or phone listing.

"I am dying to know how you found this place."

She lets him deal with the door, knowing full way either Alphonso or Helene would be right there to greet them. Likely Helene. Alphonso did most of the meal prep - though he did like to check in during a meal to see how folks were enjoying his offerings.

Constantine has posed:
John withholds the answer until he?s stepped through the door. ?The Fireplace room,? he says. ?Figured the dining room would be putting too many airs.?

As if he wasn?t by dining here in the first place. The other question is met with a grin ?Magic,? he answers about how he found the place, keeping the mystery alive.

Mrs. Diamonte comes out to greet them and take coats. She eyes John warily even through her mask of welcome and in return John just smiles, and gives over his coat. ?Right this way, we have the Fireplace Room ready for you, and the appetizer will be ready shortly.?

John nods, like he knew what he was doing, but the news food was almost ready came as a bit of a surprise. Didn?t you have to order even in these high-class places? He doesn?t comment and merely follows along to the cozy confines of the fireplace room. The eponymous fireplace is unlit with it being summer but logs are piled neatly in it all the same giving the room a rustic feel. It wasn?t bad for a posh spot.

The place was set up like a living room, sofas, rugs and large comfortable chairs, so with no chairs to pull out or any such like that John, waits for Emma to sit before he sinks down into one of the large chairs with a smile. 'Not bad, this," he remarks of the place, in the understatement of the year.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma choses a couch, leaning back into the nook between arm and back of the thing, one leg pulled slightly up onto the cushions, and takes up a position of relaxation. She didn't have to be a mind reader to know John's confusion about the place.

"Drinks are on the sideboard, John. There will be provided with the meal what Alphonso feels is appropriate to enhance the selection, but this is pre-dinner. I'm certain what's left there will be appropriate to what is to come. And, before you ask, no, you don't order here. Helene and Alphonso are our hosts. We are their guests. As such, the meal is at their pleasure."

She smiles almost sincerely.

"Ours is to relax and enjoy without the usual confines and trappings of our daily lives. Or, in your case, to try not to gawk too much at the understated opulence." She quirks a brow at him. "Which again makes me wonder, just how *did* you find this place."

Not to mention why did the Diamontes take his reservation.

Constantine has posed:
There was no point hiding the truth from a mind reader. When Emma makes her observations he smiles. ?Read my mind? Or simply that obvious?? he asks as he rises to go to the sideboard. There was a selection of red wines and smokey expensive looking whiskeys. He glances back over his shoulder, in time to catch the crack about gawking.

?Wasn?t gawking, I was appreciating,? he says. ?So, then this is something of an oasis then? A place for you folk to kick back and not have to make the big decisions for awhile?? he asks. ?And what?s your poison? Since you?re comfy might as well bartend for us both.?

As he turns back to the selection, he does answer in part of how he found the place. ?Made a bet,? he explains, while putting some ice into a glass in advance of some of that whiskey.

Emma Frost has posed:
"Simply observing," Emma answers easily. "Unlike what you or others may think once you know my particular talent, I don't need to employ it to follow most thoughts that cross people's minds. Your body language gives away much." Just like n games of chance where bluffing is an art, you learn to read people. Business, too, it's an important skill.

"I thought you might prefer to have your thoughts left your own." There's an almost twinkle of amusement to her tones and eyes, "Of course, if you're disappointed I'm not reading your mind, I could always indulge."

"What sort of bet wins you the opportunity to make a reservation here? You'll forgive me, John, but you don't seem the type to have those sorts of connections." She arches a brow in anticipation of his reply. "And, yes. Something like that. A place to go to and kick back, as they say, like everyone else. There's a dining room for more formal parties, or even casual gatherings."

Constantine has posed:
John nods, ?I know how that can be, people thinking it?s your abilities when it?s something else entirely,? he admits entirely. ?Guess reading people is something you need to do even without your powers.?

He pours his glass and looks back to Emma for what she might want.

Constantine has posed:
John nods, ?I know how that can be, people thinking it?s your abilities when it?s something else entirely,? he admits entirely. ?Guess reading people is something you need to do even without your powers.?

He pours his glass and looks back to Emma for what she might want.

?How do they work anyhow? Your powers? Always on? Or do you have to try and read people?s minds??

As to leaving his thoughts to his own, John chuckles, ?Sort of like the idea that you might be peeking, keeps me honest. So, let?s just make it lady?s choice, read my mind or don?t, not knowing will keep me honest,? he says and for the con man there was a bit of novelty in that. Knowing he couldn?t just lie his way out of things.

?The bet I lost,? John says, spinning out the tail. ?Was at this fancy joint, called Lux, heard of it?? he asks. ?Met a woman at the bar, there was another woman on hand we both knew, we made a bet on who could take her home. I lost. The deal was I?d get her dinner at a place of her choosing, she picked here.?

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma nods to the bottle of whiskey he's been pouring from. "The same if you don't mind, only without the ice."

She lounges further on the couch, looking both relaxed and pleased with herself. "The trick is to always keep people guessing. Though I don't precisely advertise what I can do. And to answer your question, a bit of both, actually."

She shrugs, and waits until he delivers her drink, then continues on.

"Some of my abilities require a lot more deliberate attention than others, but awareness of other's thoughts and minds is a constant. One of the first things I had to learn was how to shield myself from that. It's not unlike being at a rave otherwise. All sounds and lights and downbeat reverberating through you, only, in my case, it's all in my mind. Terribly disconcerting and distracting."

His commentary to make it Lady's Choice leaves her chuckling. "You live dangerously. Then consider it might actually be happening at any time. I'm a woman of intrigue; this amuses me."

When he says how he managed to score a reservation, Emma looks thoughtful. "I see. Only she didn't tell you how to contact here, did she?" The place was a fairly guarded secret, and if he'd won such a bet, odds were picking here was a brush off. "So, really, how did you manage it? Finding here, I mean."

Constantine has posed:
John pours a second glass of the whiskey straight up and then brings both back to the seats handing Emma?s hers before moving to his seat and laying back legs outstretched.

?Yeah, always best if they don?t know how you?re going to come at them, with your,? he taps his head, ?Or through regular means.?

When she mentions here powers being a bit of both, he nods, speaking when she?s elaborated. ?Sounds like some clubs I?ve been to,? John says of her description of unfiltered telepathy. ?Nice to visit but wouldn?t want to live in one. Glad you can close the door to all of that??

He trails off as Mrs. Diamonte returns bringing their appetizers, little puffs of pastry with long tined forks to dip them in the little cups of dill sauce brought out to dip them in. She describes them as blue crab Beignets before withdrawing.

?Didn?t know they came in any other colours but red,? John remarks lightly humour dancing in his eyes, suggesting he?s playing to his lack of culture more than anything.

As he samples the appetizer, he carries on, ?Me, I know a little of what you?re talking about, needing to shut things out. Me I see things, things most can?t and honestly wouldn?t want to. Not much shuts it off though,? he lifts his glass. ?Though this helps.?

He chuckles then at the remark about living dangerously. ?Is there a better way to live. An? like I said, keeps me honest, more fun if I can?t lie my way out of things.?

As for the story he nods, ?Nope, just gave me the name. I could tell she didn?t think I?d manage it or didn?t think it was all that likely. But I figured it?d be a fun puzzle to figure out.?

As to how he found it, ?Wasn?t lying the first time, I used magic, not my magic, but a student of mine, real talent for mixing the old and the new. She was able to sniff out the location and a good bit of details on the Diamontes. So, I paid them a visit...?

OOC:

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma takes her glass with a nod of thanks. "Frankly, anyone can get ahead with the right mindset and my particular set of skills. However, it takes a lot more talent not to employ it the way some use salt at the dinner table. I don't care to have my talents guessed at and my prowess questioned, not when I've clawed tooth and nail to get where I am. Most people, if you take the time to pay attention, give themselves away. You hardly need to employ mind reading to get the best of them."

She shrugs.

"I'm curious who might have set you upon this task," Emma muses. "Not that it matters much. Amusing, yes, but hardly worth fretting and keeping myself up at night." She smiles a sweet little smile that says if she really wanted to know she could merely go digging for the information and be done with it. "And magic, you say?"

The appetizer tray is set on the coffee table between the two, and Emma leans forward to take one, dipping it in the provided sauce. "I confess, I don't actually pay much attention to magic. It's either boring or overrated." Which is to say she can't fathom it, and much like your average brick, she doesn't find it worthy of her interest. At least not so far. "And new and old? I'm not sure I follow. Isn't magic.. Just?"

There's an almost amused breath of sound from Emma as he relays about visiting the Diamontes. "I really wouldn't have paid them a visit if I were you. They're very particular. This is their home, you realise? We're here at their pleasure, not the other way around. I do hope you didn't threaten them. I would hate to see you to have caused something of an incident requiring those such as myself to get involved."

Constantine has posed:
John hands over the drink with a smile. Then, sitting in his chair nods in agreement with Emma's words. "I get you, don't want people thinking you got where you were on your powers alone." He wasn't the ambitious sort, but he understood the sentiment. "As for cold reading, yeah, useful skill all over, given you haven't been using your talents, as far as I know, so far, I'd say you've got a knack for that too."

He raises his glass to her.

"Elektra Natchios," John says without further prompting watching Emma for a reaction. He'd done some digging about the woman and wondered if the name rung any bells with Emma, seeing as they moved in similar worlds. "Heard of her?"

The bit about magic earns a smile.

"It's not all boring and overrated," he assures her with a smile. "Sometimes it's too bloody interesting. But I can see how you might think that way. Most folks, they've just got a thimble full of power, and unless they're using some well-used spells, whatever they can manage might as well be done with technology. In fact, they'd be better off, with technology you pay up front, with magic, the bill always comes due later and it's often not what you expect."

John takes a sip of his drink. "Though the deep magics, they're interesting, but come with even more danger and higher prices, to the point their better viewed as a curiosity rather than something to aspire to. Me, I run somewhere in between, know a bit of this and a bit of that, but don't exactly have an ocean of power to draw on, so mostly I cheat, make bargains, make the powers that be do the heavy lifting and make them think it's their idea besides. Tends to be safer," another drink. "'Till the day that it isn't."

Aware he'd gone on something of a tangent, John gives a self-effacing smile and gets back on point. "As to old and new magic, the old stuff's all swords, staves, daggers and blood. New stuff uses technology, gets similar results but with newer tools, computers, phones, that sort of thing. My student basically used magical Google to find the place. Pretty impressive really without much more than a name to go on."

"As for the Diamontes, might have been planning on making them require my services, had three puka lined up an' everything, but when I showed up at the door an' gave em my card, they said that they'd been given instructions to take my reservation if I should call. They just seemed very unhappy, I called by their home rather than picked up a phone. Especially given the hour."

Another sip of whiskey is had.

"What's their story anyhow? If you know it, I mean, who'd want a bunch of folks showing up to their home for dinner?" he asks, not that his own home didn't invite guests whenever it wanted, but still that wasn't a choice.

Emma Frost has posed:
"Powers alone," Emma agrees. "Powers, period. It's not precisely safe to be fully outed as a mutant."

She gives a nod of thanks for her drink, and raises hers likewise to his.

"Natchios, hrm?" Emma mulls the name over, not unfamiliar with it, though she doesn't know the woman personally. "I dare say you play a dangerous game with this little stunt of yours. I'd be curious to see how she reacts to being stood up, with her reservations going to another woman. Though, as we've already noted, she doubtless didn't think you'd manage to get this far. Though as to knowing her, no. Of her, yes."

She listens to the tangent on magic with something of amusement.

"You make it sound somewhat tawdry. What is the saying? Infinitesimal power, itty bitty living space? I believe we touched upon the price you've paid already, though I dare say it can't all be so bad, or there wouldn't be so many claiming to practice, or wishing to. That or it runs to the adage of all power. I can't say I've ever really seen the allure of it. There's a point where more isn't more, it's merely?" Emma shrugs. "I'd say a burden, but that's not truly the word. Responsibility seems trite, but it's closer."

There's a slight laugh at the story of the reservation making. "Oh, John. Tell me you didn't call at an ungodly hour? Really, were you raised in a barn? There are certain observances. I'm actually quite surprised they followed through on your reservation given what small bit I can glean from that statement. Honestly."

She shakes her head and reaches for another appetizer. "These are quite good. Alphonso has outdone himself, and if this is any indication of the meal to come, we're going to be pleasantly surprised. As to what's their deal? I don't know. I haven't asked. It would seem rather rude to, don't you think? But if I had to guess, I imagine they found themselves happier catering to their own whims than to the beck and call of some overrated restaurant. And really, this is much more exclusive. It might not be in the Michelin guide, but given the lengths their clientele go to to keep it secret, wouldn't you say that this is much better? Hrm?"

Constantine has posed:
?True enough,? John says of being outed as a mutant. ?Odd isn?t it? The same people who fawn over Superman and his, lot damn you and yours for being born with powers? Don?t seem fair if you ask me, still I get the caution. Still get a few of the ?suffer not a witch to live sort? sniffing around me and mine.?

He smirks lightly. ?Welcome to 2026. You?d think we?d done away with this sort of thing with the Spanish Inquisition, but, then people are bastards.?

?Well, if she has me thrown off a building or some such, you?ll know how she took it. I am sort of banking her on being amused by my impudence. I gather that?s what got me through my drink with you,? and the kiss that followed. ?Anyhow, like you said she probably didn?t think I?d get this far.?

?There are a few perks,? John says with a shrug of his shoulder. ?But largely it?s a pain in the ass. As to the one?s pretending to power, well, grass is greener on the other side innit? They want to be special, same as those that dress up and hangout side the Avenger?s place. Don?t really think that the life they?re chasing isn?t all sunshine and roses. I mean, I can?t imagine being a mutant has been fun all over, eh?? he asks.

He rubs his chin, considering. ?Responsibility is close enough,? he says. ?Or like riding a tiger, once you?re on, you got to stay on or the bloody thing eats you,? he says with a smile.

As to the other, when he visited the place. He puts on smile like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. ?Might have called at the witching hour,? a slight snort. ?Seemed appropriate. And yeah, it took some talking to get them to honour miss Natchios? recommendation,?

John reaches for the appetizers and takes a bite. ?Mm, yeah, man?s an artist. An makes sense I suppose, choosing to do something extraordinary rather than something as banal as a proper restaurant. Anyhow, you can tell the rest of your lot, I won?t go spilling about this little oasis of yours.?

?So, the Diamonte want to run a private little spot for the rich and powerful, but what are you after?? he asks changing the topic. ?I mean, is the money and power it, or is it a means to something else??

Emma Frost has posed:
There's a short laugh from Emma, but it doesn't sound terribly amused.

"Honestly, John. You and yours might deserve that Inquisition if you pulled that sort of a stunt on the Diamontes. I thought you were attempting to redeem yourself?"

She shakes her head in somewhat disappointment. "I should take umbrage with your behaviour. However, I suspect your lady friend may have words once she finds out herself."

Emma makes it sound like he'd somehow crossed the boundary from civilized into irredeemably heathen, or something from the Stone Age.

"As for myself, I'm not sure I follow. What am I after?"

Constantine has posed:
Smirking John takes another sip of his scotch.

"Redeem myself on a cosmic sense, sure," he says as he sets the glass down and looks over at Emma. "But trust me, luv, but waking a couple up at midnight isn't likely to make them tip."

He can see her disappointment though, and he frowns. "Like you said, my lady friend will likely take it out of my hide," he offers by way of amends for his misdeed in Emma's eyes.

"As to the other, just trying to find out what makes you tick is all, we can play games for it if you like."

Emma Frost has posed:
"Midnight?" Emma arches a brow. "John. Really."

Again she makes it sound as though he'd committed a cardinal sin, even though she, herself had deigned to wake others at similar (and worse) hours. Of course she wouldn't have pulled that stunt with the Diamontes.

There was flaunting your power, and then there was befoulling the waters from which you drank.

One was understandable. The other sheer stupidity.

"Frankly, given a move such as that, we should both consider ourselves lucky that this meal looks like it's still being prepared to Alphonso's usual high standards. Your lady friend has some pull." Emma knew of the Natchios name, though she'd never interacted with the woman. Of course Emma's name itself, as John's guest, may also have had something to do with the fact that they hadn't been served a mere nod to passingly acceptable foodstuffs.

She considers him, sipping her scotch as he ponders what makes her tick. "Now, see, I find that interesting. Why are you curious as to what makes me tick? I wouldn't think I were your sort. You certainly aren't flirting overtly in any sort of manner I can detect." Which would suggest she's not skimming his mind to read any intents he may have. "What has you so curious about me?"

She smiles, and utters a soft laugh. "Other than my charm and good looks."

Constantine has posed:
John gives a shrug like a truant schoolboy, spreading his hands. "To be fair, I decided to do all that before I tried the food," he remarks lightly.

"And good thing too," he says of them being served properly rather than being given some ungodly concoction as punishment. "Hope you being in my company doesn't hurt your reputation with the house," he offers. "I imagine that'd be something that'd get around with you folks."

The question about why he's asking what he did, is met with a grin. "Well those things, and that you're a good kisser," he mentions, putting the kiss out there to see what comes of that little topic. Wondering if there might have been some wards he could have put on himself to protect his mind.

The grin doesn't fade as he sips his scotch and regards her in return, "Truthfully? Talking the other night was fun, figured if I was going to go to the trouble of having a fancy dinner, might as well enjoy who I'm talking with."

He takes a sip of his scotch.

"And by the by, I'm here with you on a date meant for another woman, I figured that counted as flirting. At least a little."

Emma Frost has posed:
It's easy to tell that Emma is amused despite herself. "You are incorrigible, aren't you? And, no, I doubt you helped my reputation here, though I suppose I could protest that I'm an innocent bystander in this exchange."

And here Emma inclines her head to John, "However, if you're going to insist upon such unorthodox methods, you might not want do it where food is on the line, hrm?"

She takes another of the appetizers and settles back in her seat, clearly relaxing fully now, and nibbles upon the tidbit in her hand. "I suppose you could say it was fun," Emma admits, lips pursing over something that might pass as a smirk in another. "Although if that's the best kiss you've had, then you need to up your class of dates."

It's the last, however, that has her laughing outright. "I'll add likes to live dangerously to incorrigible. You realize I could fry your brain before you can blink again, yes? Without really stressing myself over the matter." There's a snort of amused disbelief. "Flirting with me, he says."

But he has a point. This was meant to be a date with another woman..

Constantine has posed:
John continues to smirk when he's called incorrigible, "Well I can always tell them I kidnapped you," he suggest, "Forced you to dinner against your will."

"Though that's a fair point. Would end up with less spit and worse in my food."

He takes another of the appetizers and has a bite.

John swallows quick in order to laugh. "It was alright," he allows with a twinkle in his eye. "But yeah the whole night was a bit of fun."

"Sure you could, but you haven't yet so I must be doing something right," John remarks with a laugh. He finishes his appetizer and leans back in his chair. "I do So, got to wonder though, how am I doing?"

Emma Frost has posed:
"I just may tell them that. After all, given yourself, and given me, I'm certain it would be believed."

Emma looks utterly innocent as she says it, too. As though she has no idea just how possibly insulting what she's said is, knowing full well she may get a rise out of the man. Perhaps hoping for one. Certainly the small twinkle in her eyes suggests she's hoping for one.

"Only alright? Oh, John, given you're wondering how you're doing in the flirting department, that was a tactical error. One a scale of one to ten, you might have to borrow from friends to get on the page."

Emma goes to take a sip of her drink, then pauses. "You do have friends, don't you, John?"

Constantine has posed:
The barb about him kidnapping her is met with a genuine laugh. "Well now, I am going to have to give it a try some time if you keep that up," he says. Honestly, he has no clue how well that'd go, he'd managed with some serious demons, but telepathy, and mutant powers were a bit outside his expertise. Seeing that twinkle in her eye, he adds, "We magic types can do quite a bit, if we're given time to prepare,' he says contriving to sound smug, as he puts his hands behind his head.

The mirth doesn't leave him as Emma continues. He gives her grading of his flirtation a good natured flinch before the latter almost makes him spill his drink.

"Few enough among the living," he says. "Though the dead ones always seem to stick around so I maybe they'd lend a hand," he says in a mix of humour and brutal honesty. "Though, they were never much good at it in life, so I may just be shit out of luck," he says with a rueful grin as he raises his drink.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma's glass is raised in return.

"That seems fair enough to ask. Time to prepare, and I suppose I could spare a few minutes out of my day next week to let your friends audition for me. You'll forgive me if I withhold final judgement on your flirting skills until then, though."

With a sweet smile crossing her lips, she sips.

And seemingly without pause, Emma sides into a much more serious demeanour - still light, but edging towards the other. "You realize I don't do relationships, yes? I believe we had this conversation. I think I might like you, John. I'd really rather not see you get hurt. It's best if we understand one another now, I think, rather than later when it's too late to mend such things."

Constantine has posed:
Clinking his ice against the side of his now empty glass, John says, "Meant the kidnapping, not the flirting," he says. "Think I'm doing just fine as is when it comes to the latter and was only joking about the former."

If John is fazed by the sudden shift to more serious tones it doesn't show, though he does sit up and lean forward empty glass set down on the table in front of him.

"Oh, don't you worry about me, luv. I'm not the relationship sort either, bad history with it, but I like you, an' not just for y'know," he gestures vaguely at her form. "All that. So, if we have a bit of fun and move on, well, I can think of worse fates, and if not? Well, at least we'll have had some dinner and a bit of a chat."

Emma Frost has posed:
"I knew what you meant," Emma smiles, her own glass dangerously near to empty. "As I said, time to prepare. Though, I suspect you might find you've bitten off more than you can chew if you're seriously contemplating it."

She shrugs, and gets up, holding a hand out for his glass. "Another? And as to worrying about you, I'm not. I just think we should be honest about what this is and isn't. I'm not looking for romance. Or a dalliance. As for fun, I'm not sure I aim for much of that. It interferes with all manner of things and tends to leave people expecting things I've no intention of delivering."

"But dinner and company is always welcomed. I do find I enjoy both."

Constantine has posed:
At the prompt, John offers up his glass with a "Thanks."

As she heads to the sideboard to pour he carries on. "Nah, not really thinkin' of it," he admits. "Jus' saying, we magic types can be a handful when we've been given time to prepare."

Speaking of preparation, their next course arrives, brought in my Mrs. Diamonte, this time it's two plates of sliced beef tenderloin, drizzled over with a sauce of wine and chocolate, set on a celeriac puree and braised vegetables. The scent catches John's attention first, drawing his eye and keeping it until it set down on the little table by his seat. The other plate is put down on the table next to Emma's couch.

Mrs. Diamonte doesn't smile, but there is something like satisfaction in her eyes at John's reaction.

"Is there anything else I can get you?" she asks them both.

John shakes his head. "Nah, thanks though, this looks lovely."

...When Mrs. Diamonte withdraws after seeing to any needs Emma might have. John rejoins their conversation, while studying his dinner. "And how so? The expectations piece? Think if we go to bed I'll wake up expecting a relationship?" he asks before before he adds, sniffing, "Is there chocolate on this?"

Seems chocolate as part of a savoury dish isn't something one runs into on pub crawls.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma brings John back his drink, along with her own, first offering Mrs. Diamonte a smile of thanks. "No, Helene, we're good, thank-you. I'm sure the food will be delightful as always. Please tell Alphonso he outdid himself with the appetizers."

Helene nods back to Emma, and looks pleased, her lips curling up into a smile; a smile that fades as she looks over at John just as quickly as it had been given to Emma.

Emma laughs at John as she hands him his drink. "Yes. Chocolate. The sweet against the savoury is actually a surprisingly delightful thing. Balanced out with the wine in the sauce and a little bit of salt, I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. It isn't sweet in the traditional sense. You aren't eating a chocolate bar. Try it before you pass judgement."

There is a small, intimate table they could move to, as well as the deck. It seems the pair are the only two here tonight, as denoted by the fact that the deck has been left for their pleasure.

"Shall we take ourselves to table, or are you happy enough here? As for you magic types, I'm not unaware. Some of you more than others." Pointedly. "And, no, I don't expect you'll wake up the next morning expecting a relationship. Some have. It's tedious."

Constantine has posed:
ohn is quiet at the exchange between Helene and Emma, though when her smile fades when she looks his way he can't help but grin at her.

He takes the drink, "Sounds like having dessert at dinner, but I'll give it a try, not the weirdest thing I've seen, not by a long shot."

At the mention of the table, he nods. "Table works," he says getting up to move himself and his food that way. The food, however odd it was to John's limited culinary experience, did smell heavenly.

"Same's happened with me. Tedious isn't perhaps the word I'd use, but your point's taken. Where's that leave us then? Just dinner companions?"

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma moves her plate as well, and moves easily to the sideboard to take out candles and matches, and after setting them up and lighting them, uses the dimmer on the overhead at the table to create a more 'intimate' space.

"You ask that like it's somehow surprising that someone might wish nothing more. Honestly, John, I'm not sure I need more than that. And as far as dinner companions go, you're pleasant enough.

"Wine?"

There is, of course, wine provided for the meal.

"It's not a personal judgement, John. I just don't see the need for more. And, as I've already said, I could provide you with the experience without any physical engagement on my part - it just seems a crass answer to what might possibly a mutually beneficial friendship. I'm sure if you're wanting sex you can find other venues for it."

Constantine has posed:
John sets down his own plate and glass then settles back watching with curiosity as Emma arranges the space to her liking.

"Not surprised exactly, just making sure we're on the same page, don't want to overstep and end up with no memories of the night," he says lightly. "I meant what I said, if we just chat and eat, 's fine by me."

He gives a nod to the offer of wine. "Please."

John nods, "So you've said," he says of being without the need for more. "And sure, if I want sex I know where to find it, but you're an interesting woman, so I wouldn't have forgiven myself for not finding out what my options were. If that option is a mutually beneficial friendship, then I'm game. I imagine there is all sorts of trouble two people like us could get up to without the rest."

Emma Frost has posed:
Two glasses of wine are expertly poured.

"It's not so much a page, John, as the status quo. I'm past that portion of my life. As it is, you've joined a fairly exclusive club."

Her wineglass is lifted to him. "To conversations and company."

Her wine is sipped and found, as always, more than sufficient to the Diamonte's hospitality. "I don't understand why it always comes down to sex. Really, does that always have to be an option on the table brought up for discussion? The very fact of my gender, or existence, shouldn't have to mean that little negotiation with every male I meet. Honestly, you wondered about the tedium? There's tedium. You might be an exception given your claims to not have a gender preference, but most males wouldn't be putting that conversation on the table with every male dinner companion they have."

"I find it rather insulting to be relegated to my genitals, as though rutting like animals is preferable to civilized discussion and companionship, and this here is default mode only once the other is off the table."

Constantine has posed:
John takes his glass and raises it. "Conversations and company."

He sips it as well. Making a surprised noise at the taste. Obviously top shelf wine is not a regular drink for the warlock.

Setting his wine down he takes up his knife and fork and begins cutting into his beef as he talks. "People in general are simple creatures, we're wired to think about food and sex," he says taking a bite, mmming at the taste. "Though in this case I might be inclined to give up the latter for more of the former. Damn good, this," he says gesturing at their meal. "As for you and me and taking that off the table, given our talking about flirting, it felt it was best to get all of that out of the way, so there was no misunderstandings. As to being reduced to nothing more than you genitals, I wouldn't say my intentions were that crass? it's more about connection, even when it's for fun, than bumping our ugly bits."

"Still, I can how having the question of sex come up again and again would be tiresome. That why you've moved past it all?" he asks.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma enjoys another sip of wine before putting her glass down and trying some of her meal.

"Oh, don't take it personally. It wasn't directed solely at you. Mostly an observation of the bulk of the interactions I've had. And lest you think it entirely related to my looks, let me disavow you of that thought. It seems men will reduce their interactions with ugly looking women down to sex as well. With the added caveat that we're supposed to be grateful for the offer."

"One gets the impression she may have 'disguised' herself in the past in order to come to that conclusion.

She smiles at his reaction to the meal - both food and wine. "Of course it's good. For what your lady friend is paying, one would expect it to be better than good. This is where the rich go to relax, John. Where the rich who don't have to ask what it's going to cost go to relax. Expenses aren't spared here."

She takes another bite. "I'd beg to differ on the other. The kiss was a moment of weakness. Already dismissed. And the flirtation was already taken off the table. Regardless, it's tiring.I'm an intelligent woman with more to offer than what I may or may not do in the bedroom. If I were a man this discussion wouldn't have happened."

Constantine has posed:
"Interesting," John says about the latter part, cottoning to Emma having disguised herself. "But point's well taken. Though surely some men must be able to appreciate women as more than sex objects?" he offers more curious at her experience than making a point. For his point, men on the whole were a bunch of randy bastards.

"Clearly," he says of the expense. "Place practically screams don't look at the price tag, but, for all that it doesn't seem pretentious. You know what I mean? It's food, not some tiny portion y'need a microscope to find."

He takes another appreciative bite, this time, with the meat, the sauce and the puree for the full experience. He mms at it with genuine enjoyment.

"Wasn't so clear on the kiss and the flirtation. As for if it were a man, well that depends on the man, luv. If I thought there'd be a chance, you can be sure I'd have asked. Doesn't mean I think any less of his brain, though, or yours by the by."

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma laughs softly. "If I wanted pretentious, I'd go somewhere where I could be seen. The point of this place, John, is to relax like it were in my home. Only be able to entertain at the same time. Go out like normal people would for a burger and fries."

It's not like folks like Emma can truly waltz into the local McD's.

"And yes, yes. Depends on the man with you. But honestly, let's be realistic, given your druthers you prefer women, and almost most men this conversation wouldn't have happened. At least not right off. You'd have at least gotten to know them as a person, and had some movement over time towards there being more. That's a rarity in my experience. Men look at me and assume that should be their first move. And even when it's not quite their first move, all the moves prior lead up to this. There's never a moment where that isn't on the table until I take it off."

"Can you honestly say that's your dealings with males as a matter of course? Or is that the exception?"

Constantine has posed:
John nods, taking a moment to appreciate the sentiment. "Hm, never quite thought of that. You lot can't very well just drop by Big Belly Burger with a few mates without it ending up on page 6 and your toff credentials being called into question."

He gives the restaurant another look, getting a better sense of its purpose.

"Still wouldn't want to be inviting folks into my house to eat," he remarks.

"True, 'nuff," John says of preferring women. "And like I said, depends on the guy, if he's giving me signs he's good for it, why bother with the games, right? But yeah, generally speaking, you've got a point. Most men it's different."

Emma Frost has posed:
"Semantics, John. You know full well what I mean. Really, the fact of you occasionally frolicking with men makes this a much trickier conversation. And you know full well what I mean."

She continues to eat her meal.

"Most of us would prefer not to drop into Big Belly Burgers. They're a tad greasy, but edible." Emma shrugs. "Not that I'd admit that in public. But you follow my point."

"I'll admit that there's still a certain amount of pretentiousness to a place like this." Given how off the map it is, and unfindable unless you happen to be one of the chosen few. "I'm still curious how you managed that. Finding here, I mean. You said you had help? And I'm sure the Diamontes have figured out the logistics of things. I wouldn't worry about them."

In truth, Emma suspects they live in a house nearby, and not in this one any longer. Though she's not pried to find out the specifics, or if her suspicions are correct. Some secrets, she's decided, are worth not knowing the answers to, and the fact of having a place such as this to retreat to and enjoy is worth not knowing.

Constantine has posed:
"Frolick, there's a word for it," John says with a wry chuckle. "And I know what you mean."

He takes a sip of the wine and then takes further bites of his meal, savouring it. It wasn't like he was likely to be invited back.

"Well, when I am not trying to be mysterious, the short answer is scrying. My apprentice did the work, she took the name I was given then simply asked the universe through her computer and the information came to her," he chuckles then. "Which sounds like she used Google, but, really, that's about the long and short of it. Magic, at its most basic level is talking to the universe with words it can't ignore."

John smiles, "Probably not the answer you were looking for."

Emma Frost has posed:
"No, not exactly," Emma admits. "But it's close enough. Somehow you've found someone who can find the place arcanely."

Emma isn't sure that Alphonso and Helene even have the place warded otherwise. They might. But clearly John found the loophole.

Constantine has posed:
"That's about the long and short of it," John says with a nod. He takes another bite of his food. "Could have done the job myself, but would have gone another way, taken longer, besides, it was good practice."

That was one of the good thing about magic being in the shadows, most people didn't believe in it enough to take precautions.

"Anyhow, feel at least a little embarrassed by what I had in mind now that I've tried the food, might see if I can make amends with a ward or two, incase someone or something really nasty comes looking," he remarks thoughtfully before tucking into another bite of his meal.