xp_logs | Sanguinicity - Physical Research

Wanda and Doug make contact with their target at the Berlin Hellfire Club, to see if she is a resource that can help them with Strucker's empire.

The Berlin Hellfire Club wasn’t as impressive on the inside as the New York chapter, but it had a sense of old world history that the newer branch couldn’t compete with. The political side was more represented than in New York, which tended to be business heavy. Still, it had all the expected trappings of wealth and power, even if the titles of aristocracy were more common.

Standing and speaking to an ancient man in a suit and a sash denoting some title or order was a tall, dark-haired woman. She had classical features; high cheekbones and olive skin, her Italian ancestry clear as day. This was La Contessa Valentina Allegre de la Fontaine.

Clearing her throat slightly to warn of her approach, Wanda stepped up to stand next to Doug. Slipping her one arm through his to rest her hand on his arm, she put an untouched glass of champagne down on a passing waiter's tray. "Well, she certainly looks the part," she murmured, into his ear, looking as self-possessed and at ease as anyone else in the room. She might have been born in a rusted caravan but stepped into the role of a rich businesswoman born with a silver spoon in her mouth with ease.

There were certain roles worth stepping into, for however short a time.

"So do you," Doug murmured with a slightly amused glance at the dress Wanda was wearing. His status as White Knight of the New York club had gotten them into the gathering, and Doug mused that he hadn't expected to ever need to pack one of his Court outfits for travel, much less an operation like this. He had a knife or two carefully secreted on his person, but ironically felt almost naked without the usual items he traveled with on X-Force business.

He steered them around the floor of the ballroom that the Berlin club was mingling in, chattering lightly with others as they went. He positioned them so that Contessa de la Fontaine might notice them. It was always advantageous to be seen and approached, rather than approach someone and put them off guard. You learned more with the former.

The parties were all the same. Dancing, drinking, making sure that the name that was whispered on everyone else's lips was yours. It was all strictly in the name of showing off power and wealth. The grand facade.

Valentina usually knew almost every person in the room, and the years had started to turn most of their dark hair into grey. This was not a democracy. The only way most of these people would lose their power was with a knife in their heart.

Her eyes flickered upward as she caught sight of two unfamiliar faces, both with the look of intent in their eyes. It was the newcomers that were usually polite. They wanted to make a good impression. Some might think it respectful, she saw it as a minor annoyance.

"Excuse me," she said in German to the man she was with before crossing the room toward them. She held herself high, her posture almost perfect as she approached, carrying with her a grace garnered by years of practice.

The blond one wore white, obviously with one of the other courts. She knew most of the members in the area, and he definitely wasn't one of theirs. Too young. Berlin's roots were nourished by old blood.

"Can I help you?" she said, her voice smooth, polished, and carrying the hint of an Italian accent as she looked between the man and his consort.

Doug was very aware of the reputation he carried as White Knight. Given that he'd obtained the invitation under the auspices of the New York court, there was certainly no way that Contessa de la Fontaine hadn't done her research. Inside the walls of the Club, Douglas Ramsey was known as Emma Frost's personal 'assistant', primarily, but also known to be a shrewd negotiator, and not just one of Emma's playthings. On top of that, he had a reputation as a rake that had been amplified after Marie-Ange's departure for New Orleans until he was sure the Contessa had heard he would stick it in anything attractive with a pulse. And that he had never failed to satisfy a partner.

He could see her measure Wanda with her eyes in that subtle 'is she prettier than me' comparison, and establishment of pecking order, and a little hint of her eyes flicking between them that spoke to curiosity if Doug had bedded her yet.

He carefully showed none of that analysis, though, and took the Contessa's hand in his and smoothly bestowed a kiss on it in an easy fashion that not many Americans would have had the knack for doing without looking like they were trying too hard. "Douglas Ramsey, White Knight of the New York court," he introduced himself. "And you would be the Contessa de la Fontaine, yes" he asked in perfectly accented Italian.

Ramsey. The name struck a cord that the face hadn't. The names she knew, especially of those in the American courts. The kings and queens had the more prominence, though their court also held a certain function and were ones not to be taken lightly. Club business never was.

He was calculating, in more so of a way than one might expect It naturally provoked her interest. What was he hiding?

"How thoughtful of you to tell me my own name, Mr. Ramsey. I would have forgotten," she said with a light smile, returning his comment back to him in English. The gesture in speaking in her own language, while pleasant in its pronunciation, did not impress her. It was a nice thought but it took more than pretense and posture.

"What I would really like to know is what brings you and your acquaintance..." she said, glancing over to Wanda before looking back to Douglas with a simple turn of her head. "... who apparently doesn't have a name....to our fair Berlin?"

Wanda smiled, a bit blandly, though she knew the Contessa was mostly focused on Douglas. And that was exactly what she wanted. As much as anyone in Emma's court could be, he was a known entity and Wanda ... wasn't. And she preferred to stay that way as much as possible though she was resigned to the fact that the Black Court, at least, knew more information about her than she found comfortable. "Ah, sadly, not a name as important as Signore Ramsey's," she said, extending her hand to the Contessa for a polite handshake as she inclined her head in greeting. "Wanda Maximoff, at your service."

She glanced around the room before she settled back on the woman across from her. "Our apologies," she continued, voice pitched to carry over the music and general background noise but no further, "for interrupting your previous conversation. As lovely as Berlin can be, I am afraid we are here for more business related purposes than pleasure."

Her smile grew slightly. "I hope you do not find us too forward if we ask to speak to you regarding a certain matter that we believe you will be interested in." She wasn't so outside the Hellfire Club as to realize that blurting out what they wanted exactly right at the start was considered a faux pas but she hoped they would be able to skirt around much of the manipulating that generally went on during these 'business talks'.

Valentina fell silent for a moment or two, her features unreadable until she finally deposited her empty champagne glass on the tray of a passing waiter.

"I believe there is a fine selection of rare books on display in the library upstairs if the two of you are interested in seeing them," she said.

"I'd be fascinated," Doug replied. And actually, he was. Information junkie that he was, a rare book collection pinged at his interests. It was almost a pity that they'd probably only get enough of a look at them to serve as the pretense for the information they were hoping to get. He took Wanda's arm easily, and the pair made their way up the staircase toward the library, knowing the Contessa would meet them there.

Five minutes passed. Valentina made the proper rounds. Leaving a party, at least in this sort of crowd, often aroused suspicion. But soon she made her way upstairs into the large library.

The library had definitely had been built in a bygone area, with elaborate wood carvings decorated with flowers and wood nymphs. Shelves upon shelves of books lined the walls, most showing their age. A fire roared in the black marble fireplace, flanked by two lions. Two Italian leather couches worth more than your average mid-sized sedan sat on either side of the fire, with a matching coffee table in the middle.

Valentina stepped inside, locking the door behind her.

"It is a beautiful collection, is it not?" she said as she slipped something metallic out of her purse about the size of a lipstick tube that had a blue light attached to it. She turned it on, and a faint hum was heard. Walking over to the mantle, Valentina set it on top.

"Bugs," she said simply before draping her arm over the edge.

"Now, what is so important that brings the two of you all the way here, to speak to me? My time is valuable, so speak quickly."

"And we certainly do appreciate that," Wanda replied as she slipped the book she had been glancing through back into it's rightful place. She was certainly not surprised by the idea that the library was bugged - she and Doug had maintained only the smallest, most inconsequential chatter regarding the library itself while they had waited. "Speaking quickly, we have an interest in Baron Von Strucker's estate. That is what we wish to speak to you about."

Valentina turned to stare at Wanda suspiciously. "And what 'interest' would that be?" she said, her eyes flickering between the two of them. Any other name would have been far less interesting, and intimate. Coming from two strangers, no doubt.

"Dismantling it." Doug was taking a risk at showing their hand quite so early, but he could always cover their motives as simple naked greed. He shrugged minutely. "We know from speaking to certain people that you have a similar interest. Perhaps we can work out...a mutually beneficial arrangement?"

Valentina's eyebrows rose. She cocked her head to the side, running her fingers along the mantle.

"How bold an enterprise," she said as she walked over to a small bar area tucked into the corner and poured herself a drink. Raising the glass to her lips, she took a slow sip as she stared out over the fire.

"That man...what I wouldn't have given to see his face turn white with shock," she said.

Wanda felt something in her spine unclench. It would not have surprised her if they had been summarily kicked out of the room. Not only was Valentina Hellfire Club but she was also an Italian countess - being unpredictable probably dealt with any sort of boredom issues. "There are far too many quotes to pick from about fortunes and gods favoring the bold," she commented. "Whatever our personal desires are, the goal, we believe, is one and the same. What lead us to you, however, is that knowledge is power and you seem to have it in spades."

Doug was glad that his calculated, educated guess had paid off. Given how rarely any of the Clubs tended to act openly, he doubted the Contessa would have done anything direct to him and Wanda, but it had still been a risk. "And information costs you little to give, but has the potential to return much." Neither he nor Wanda were naive enough to think that the Contessa wouldn't view them as little more than cats-paws, but they could work that expectation to their benefit.

Valentina turned to face the two of them, the fire from the fireplace casting an ember glow across her skin. Her face was concealed by shadow.

"You're wrong, Signor Ramsey. The cost of giving information is very high. And do not dare insult me again by saying it is not," she said. She lifted her chin.

They presumed to saunter in with their heads held high with talk of toppling empires like they had a right to do so, trying to take charge of a situation they had no stake in simply for the reward they would reap, with little care of the consequences they left in their wake. So unequivocally American.

"If you want the knowledge I have to offer, you will only get it under my conditions."

Despite the satisfaction it might have brought to her, she was not going to blindly let them take a hand in bringing a sledgehammer to all that faccia di stronzo created without a close eye on things.

Wanda inclined her head slightly. It had been a gambit by Douglas to see if they could get the information free and without strings. But, again, this was not the type of woman, not the right place, to seek such things. "Please, continue," she responded. "After all, we came here to converse and we would be interested in hearing these conditions."

And if the price was too high, they could walk if they needed to.

Valentina studied the man's reaction, holding his gaze, but it was the woman who spoke first. Valentina traced a perfectly manicured fingernail around the rim of her drink.

"One....I want monetary compensation for my information, two hundred thousand American dollars. And two...I will have a hand in what happens to what's left of my dear departed friend's empire," she said, the word 'dear' sounding as corrosive as acid.

"Those can both be arranged," Doug said with a nod, his expression unchanged. The money could be siphoned off of any number of Strucker's accounts as they ruined his estate. "Do we have an accord, then?" he asked Valentina, arching an eyebrow questioningly.

The Contessa's smile was tinged with venom as she picked up her glass and took a drink, giving Douglas and his consort a simple nod.

"We do."

Perhaps the Americans were more interesting than she had anticipated.

Amanda, Jubilee and Cammie break into La Contessa's apartment during the HFC party, to see if their information checks out.

Remy had once explained the break and enter as a form of reference check. How someone lived privately was the best way to get a sense of whether their life fit with their claims as to what they do or how they feel. One of the hardest things to disguise was your routine, which was exactly why they’d been sent to La Contessa Valentina Allegre de la Fontaine's expensive suite in Berlin.

It hadn't been too difficult to get in - Amanda, with her blonde looks and excellent German, had chatted to the doorman for a while, distracting him from giving delivery girl Cammie more than a cursory glance. Cammie past the main door, Amanda had finished up and rounded the corner, pausing briefly to 'talk' Berlin into dropping her at least on the right floor when she teleported.

Jubilee, of course, had had no need for doors or distraction at all. Or at least, she wasn't supposed to, Amanda thought as she and Cammie waited outside the Countessa's suite, waiting for the former mall rat to let them in.

Jubilee didn't disappoint, opening the door only a few minutes later. "Welcome to the highlife, ladies. Let's get this done before any of us turn into a pumpkin, or worse, respectable."

"Like the last thing will ever happen," Cammie returned, stepping away from the wall, "I'd die of boredom."

"Less chat, more going through someone else's stuff," Amanda reminded, closing the door behind herself and Cammie as they entered.

The suite was opulent, to say the least, exquisitely furnished and tastefully decorated. Amanda couldn't help but let out a low whistle as she looked around. "All right, time to live the high life vicariously. I'll take the desk. Jubes, you right with setting up the cameras while Cammie goes through her Ladyship's bedroom?"

"Fine, but if I find anything 'questionable' that scars me for life, I'm going to blame you," Cammie said, shuddering, "The things I do. I demand a break for drinks later, and it had best be poison."

"The best poison Emma's money can buy, and if you find something scarring get a copy for later, I'm always up for a good laugh," Jubilee replied, giving Amanda the thumbs up as she walked to the other side of the suite. "I'll start over here, tell me when you're done with the desk and bedroom."

"Like anything would scar Our Lady of the Spatula," Amanda murmured, mostly to herself as she headed for the desk. The drawers were locked, but were fairly simple for her to pick open. "Make sure you leave things as you find them - we don't want to tip this woman off that we've been poking around her unmentionables."

"The sex toys of others are things even I won't touch," Cammie said, "At least not without enough bleach and money involved," she muttered before going into the room. It was a bedroom, really. She didn't know why she thought it would be somehow special. It was way too fancy for her tastes, but still a bedroom. Cammie went right for the top drawer, simply because that's where everyone kept stuff they wanted to be private. Underwear, sex toys and incriminating evidence, all an easy stop away!

"God, this woman has no fucking taste in panties," Cammie muttered as she started sifting carefully through the stuff.

"Dude, the rich never have taste, that's why they're rich. They like, totally pay other people to have taste for them," Jubilee noted, setting up several pin cameras in the curtain rods and several more at different angles around the suite. While she was setting up, she noticed a folder sitting on a delicate looking coffee table. "Huh, looks like her Ladyship has been cutting out articles, and they're not even coupons for half off drycleaning."

"Why would she even both..." Amanda's response was cut off as her careful rifling through the desk drawers uncovered a number of files related to banking. "Jackpot," she said to herself with a grin, spreading out the bank statements on the desk and bringing her camera phone out of her pocket. "We have financal records. Which means a bunch of account numbers to run checks on once we're out of here."

"Sweet," Cammie said, she came out of the room with a book in her hand, "Remind me to move all my personal stuff out of my top drawer. There was a false bottom, but still. Why even bother hiding it. It might as well have been right on top."

"She wasn't expecting to be hiding things from us," Jubilee noted, moving past Cammie to begin setting up bugs and pinpoint cameras in the bedroom. "what's in it?"

Cammie opened it up and dipped into a horrifically bad upper-class sort of accent, "Dear Diary, today I was pompous and bitchy and someone much better than me sifted through my panties to find you, oh the scandal!" Cammie flipped through the pages, "It's a diary, what do you think is going to be in it. All sorts of personal, petty shit."

"Hmm." Amanda frowned. This was going far too well. What next, a signed confession? A picture of Von Strucker with darts in it? "Take it," she said at last. "She'll miss it, but I'm starting to get the feeling that she's kind of expecting this. Let's see what her next move is." She finished the last document and scooped them up, putting them back where she'd found them. "Let's get those cameras up and ourselves the fuck out of here."

"Dude, calm, yeah? I'm like totally almost done here," Jubilee noted, moving back into the main room from the bedroom and heading toward the bathroom. "You two should get out, go do your exit strategy things, I've got my own way out."

"Great, so everything that's here is crap she wanted us to find? That's just wonderful," Cammie said. Her own way out was already planned and she didn't need to be told twice, "Well then, I'm off like a prom dress."

"See back at the safehouse," was Amanda's reply as she tucked her phone away. "Jubes, don't forget to turn the lights out behind you." And with a wink, she let herself disappear into the floor.

"Dude, I used to say it about Kitty when she used to do that shit, and I'll say it again now. Creepy damn way to exit a room, like for serious," Jubilee noted, watching Amanda disappear before going back to work.