11/6 - Leonardo
11/6/2008
Logfile from Emma.
=NYC= Foyer - Hellfire Clubhouse
A study in understated opulence, the foyer of the Hellfire Club's manor breathes luxury and sedate elegance. The floor is marble, a field of black inlaid with a stylized mosaic representing the world. Green, brown, and blue stone glimmers in the shape of continents and seas; semi-precious stones represent the larger cities, and a few more valuable gems glitter where the Hellfire Club has a chapter headquarters. The walls alternate dark, polished wooden columns with mirrors blackened to be only slightly reflective: just enough to give the feeling of space and spread the light around more without creating a riot of images. A crystal chandelier hangs from the center of the vault-beamed ceiling, bathing wood and stone in a mellow golden glow.
Guards keep watch at the security station set just inside the arched doorway leading out to the front of the estate; across the foyer is a hallway framed by another high arch with matching doorways that are typically left open for easy access to the back deck. On the other two walls are open arched entrances to the north and south wings of the clubhouse and the informal and formal areas, respectively. A wide staircase sweeps up to the second floor.
It's later in the afternoon at the Hellfire Clubhouse, and for once Leonardo has arrived for reasons other than masochism. He's wearing the long winter version of his blue blazer, neatly buttoned up with his hands in his pockets, and when he enters he speaks with security for a moment, then nods and stands in the foyer waiting. Apparently whomever he came for is going to come out to him, and apparently that wasn't Emma, so seeing him standing there might be a bit weird.
Emma descends the stairs from the upper levels of the Clubhouse, her hand trailing lightly down the shiny dark wood of the bannister, the ruffled hem of her skirt flouncing flirtily. It is light grey, and matches in color a short jacket with large buttons. Her hair lays long and straight down her back, and there isn't a trace of translucent blue anywhere. Her other hand is at her side and holding onto a large leather portfolio case. "Mr. Maxwell," she greets.
"Ah, Ms. Frost, it's nice to see you." Leonardo makes his way over to her, smiling warmly and offering his hand. Any contact with Emma is good contact... the pain is love. His other hand comes from his remaining pocket as well, this one holding a larg folder that appears to have gotten rolled up at some point. "What are you doing today? It's a nice surprise to see you."
Emma takes the hand and holds it, her hand cool and slim in his. She doesn't release his either. Her eyes are slightly red-tinged, and her complexion paler than usual, but the smile on her face is serene and composed enough. "I have some business to attend to this afternoon," she answers. "What brings you here?"
"Just business, I'm almost done with a modest plan that will contribute to my financial independence." Leonardo's thumb lightly caresses the back of her hand as he mentally cackles with maniacal glee at his words. Of course he thinks his plan is far from modest, and he may be testing to see if she reads his mind to find out otherwise. "I apologize for my gift the other day, I'm planning something much better for you."
"Your gift?" Emma tilts her head and steps down from the stairs, leveling out their heights.
"You know, the lipstick. I know it was probably poor judgement, I honestly just thought it would look nice on you in private, and match your beautiful eyes." Leo says softly as he stuffs the folder back into his pocket, then moves that other hand to caress the top of her hand completely. "And it probably didn't help that you were in a bad mood, I should be more sensitive to your needs."
Emma blinks, shuffling back through memories and trying to place the referenced one. Oh. She colors slightly and tugs her hand from his. "We all have off days," she replies vaguely.
"It's alright, I'd love to take you out some time, if you're not too busy." Leonardo offers, appearing fairly confident today, but not confident enough that she needs to remove his soul or some other casual form of Emma punishment. Then down the stairs comes a stout older white male who seems to be in his early fifties, balding and grey. Emma may vaguely recognize him as Matthew Heyman, the far less successful son of Charles Heyman (Known for being a highly successful stock broker), and a low ranking board member of MDC. He holds a hand out for Emma, acknowledging her before Leo. "Oh, Miss Frost, I see you're getting acquainted with Mister Maxwell, I hope he's not in the way." the man says in an 'I'm really sucking up right now so please don't kick me out for letting this guy in.' tone. Leo just rolls his eyes and pulls out the folder again.
Emma pulls her hand free of Leo's to offer it to Charles. "Mr. Maxwell and I are old acquaintances," she assures him with a smooth, interested smile. "What are you two boys finding to talk about, though?"
Matthew smiles when it seems she's not bothered at all, taking her hand and leaning down to kiss it before rising back up. "Just business ma'am, just business. After we're done, I'm sure he'll be a future Club candidate." he says with the slightest hint of a southern drawl. Leo shoots Matthew a look that says 'shut the hell up' when he doesn't think Emma is paying attention, because the last thing he wants is Emma flipping out and screwing up the plan for her amusement by making Leo streak through a board meeting or something. "Ah, yes, I don't think the plan is /that/ big a deal, just a minor acquisition."
Emma shoots an amused glance at Leo, and pulls her hand free of Charles. It hangs in the air a moment while she appears to ponder the two gentlemen. "Every acquisition should be a major event. A stepping stone to a larger, better future, yes?"
"Yes, of course Miss Frost." Leo agrees, appearing to grow more uneasy by the minute, then suddenly just hands the folder to the man. "Excuse me for a moment Miss Frost." he says with a nod, then focuses on Matthew. "This folder has everything you'll need for the next step of the plan, I'll give you a call when it's time to use it." he says vaguely as Matthew takes the folder and nods, then Leo looks back to Emma with a smile. Matthew also seems to agree with her as he's starting to move back up the steps. "The future is bright, Miss Frost."
Oh, Emma's curiosity /is/ piqued now. She lowers her shielding enough to brush past both Matthew and Leo's thought, but she turns back to Leo and takes his arm. "Is it now?"
"Yes indeed." Matthew repeats, his thoughts obviously on the folder, << It's about time, I'll finally be moving up on the board, and I'll give that bastard Alexander what he deserves. Sleep with /my/ daughter?! I'll take your whole company! >> Leo's thoughts are briefly << God she's soft... >> when she takes his arm, then they get back on topic, << I can't stand that bastard, he's a good planner but he wont be able to shut up when we're done. When I'm president, and rid of my father, I have to find a way to get rid of Matthew... >> "Well, I'm sure we all agree that the future holds a lot of good things, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. Modesty is the key to success." Of course, the irony in Leo saying that is lost on him.
Emma guides him with gentle pressure toward the Hellfire Club's lounge. "Ah, but it's not the key to everything," she murmurs softly, enjoying the distraction Leo provides from other, less pleasant thoughts.
Now that they're going away from Matthew, Leo focuses more on Emma, smiling pleasantly down at her. Despite the bad things she puts him through, it's her relatively nice 'human' side that always reminds him of why he tolerates so much. << When I have the company, I wonder if you'll finally have some sort of attraction... >> he idly thinks, then just shakes his head. "What do you personally believe are the keys to success?"
"Absolute and unfailing despisal of other people," she answers promptly, squeezing his arm just a little before separating so that he may open the door for her.
Leo does just that, opens the door for her and gently motions for her to enter. << My father, Matthew, humans in general, I think I have it covered... >> "I think I can do that, though I'd never despise or betray you, even though I'm sure you still don't believe that."
"Then you will never be totally successful," she says with a faint puff of regretful laughter and brushes his cheek with her fingertips as she moves inside.
As they walk through the door, Leo laughs lightly and moves to put a hand on her cheek, risking another shark bite in order to make his point. "You have an entirely different idea of success than I do, what you say is the complete opposite of my reality. If I betrayed you, I'd never be successful, because my idea of success involves you in my future, and standing on my own two feet."
They stand in the doorway to the not-empty lounge--it's a familiar enough picture, I suppose. The White Queen being seduced by someone or another. It doesn't attract much attention, and Emma just smirks lightly and tips her head close to his to whisper back, "I suppose we will just have to wait and see who's version of reality wins out."
"Even if I can never be with you, I'm happy just knowing you." Leonardo smiles, moving his hand down to gently take her's. "You have your moods, and you can be a bit, well, playful I suppose, but it's times like these that I live for, when you're being so nice and sweet."
Emma's brows lift and she does laugh at this, pulling her hand away to walk in front of him and lead him back to the bar lining the back wall of the lounger. "/Sweet/? Oh, darling," she carols, tapping the bar with her index finger when she arrives there. The 'tender moves to a small cabinet kept underneath. "Why don't you tell me what you have up your sleeve then?" she asks of Leo when he closes the distance again.
Leo seems facinated by the bar for a moment, he's never gotten to see much of the Club House outside of walking to Emma's office. His attention quickly jerks back to her when she asks her question. "Not much really, I'm going to save my father's company, I'm sure you've seen some of the scandal in the business papers." he explains, though he doesn't seem very worried about it and still has the slightest hint of a smile. << I'll take it over, throw him out on his ass, then I'll show you and my mother that I'm not useless or weak. >>
A glass is set on the counter top with a tink, and a bottle of something white and effervescent splashes into it. Emma nods and lifts the glass to her lips, brows rising over it's lip at him. "How noble of you," she murmurs in reply.
"Can I have a glass too?" Leo asks the bartender, not quite sure if he can do that considering he's a non-member, but he tries anyway. "Miss Frost, can you tell me something?" he rhetorically asks, then adds, "What would you think of me if I were the head of a multi-million dollar corporation? Would you think of me as more than I am now because of this fact? I just want your opinion."
The tender nods gravely and intones, "Preference, sir?"
Emma steps back and up to slide onto a stool, folding one long leg over the other and swirling her drink around edge of the glass. Her elbow rests on the bartop. "I would think you were someone with some measure of business acumen, who had respectable resources and fortune. What more would you /be/?" she asks, smiling slyly and tipping the glass's edge back to her lips.
Leo finally takes a seat himself, not wanting to sit before her, then answers the 'tender, "Cabernet Sauvignon." He rests one arm on the bartop, and keeps the other neatly resting on his leg as he stares at her. His eyes dip below her neck line once or twice when he thinks she's not looking, but that's only normal. "Well, I don't know, that one day, that not particularly good day between us, you seemed to value men with power and money. I just thought it would change your opinion of me." Clearly he has his ideas crossed, confusing liking a man for using him.
Emma curves into a lean on her elbow, the posture emphasizing hip and leg and breast. "Do you want me to value you so, Leonardo?" Her use of his name is like a audible caress, a lover's whisper--low and sweet and slow.
Leo's eyes glance down at her chest once more, causing him to blink a few times and quickly refocus on her face again. "You have no idea, I've been so infatuated with you, maybe something more, I have barely been able to look at another woman." His tone is lower, but more intimidated with a hint of uneasiness, never any more used to her forwardness than any other time. He's simply no good with situations he's not in control of.
"And then what?" she asks primly, taking another sip from the glass and looking at him from the corner of her eye.
Leo is caught off guard by that question, like a deer in the headlights (Again, no pun intended). He swallows, looking over at the bartender, he /needs/ a drink. "Well, even if nothing comes out of you seeing me that way immediately, I'm still going to persist. I mean, if we, well, you know, got 'close', it's not like I would stop there. Like I said, I want to be with you in any way possible."
The glass is slide near his hand and the bartender slides away. Emma sets her own glass down and appears to lose herself in the sparkling bit still left for a long moment. Masks and pretenses fall away, leaving her face unusually expressive. And disturbed. A frown pulls the corners of her mouth down, and she spins the glass's stem between her thumb and index finger. "You have no idea what that actually means."
Leonardo lifts his glass, taking a nice long sip before gently lowering it to the bartop. "I don't understand." He looks up at her, eyes filled with slight confusion. "Tell me, Miss Frost, I want to know exactly what you're trying to say, I can take it."
Emma snorts lightly and twists her lips into a bleak little smile. She slides from the the stool and steps close to his, leaning against him familiarly. She shakes her head, then leans down to whisper, "No, darling. You really don't." She presses a kiss to the shell of his ear, then straightens and steps back and away. She crosses the room, collecting covert glances like a ship collecting waves against its hull.