Operation: Kefauver - Log 3
Aug. 23rd, 2022 12:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xp_changeling posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsX-Force reviews the details about the party and decides to take advantage of the opportunity to get inside.
"The Jerome Manor? It's a fucking wedding announcement party?" Kevin's look was somewhere between shocked and incredulous. "These goomers are a half step away from an all out war and they're sending out RSVPs for a champagne and canape reception? Christ, I thought they were nutty when they were tuned up on coke in the eighties. OK, I see obvious opportunities here. What's our play?"
"I'm pretty sure there's still plenty of coke at those parties," Doug noted, having rubbed elbows with a large variety of the glitterati of New York. "It's just slightly less out in the open." He shook his head to keep from going too far down that particular rabbit hole. "I figure Emma and I make an appearance - schmooze the crowd, plant some cameras and listening devices in the main areas so that we can gather more intel from any meetings on the premises."
"There's always coke. It's the telepathic equivalent of going into one of those weightlifting gyms where men with no necks compete to lift the heaviest weights," said Emma. She shuddered lightly. "But I can sacrifice myself for the greater good and set up a telepathic switchboard, keep everyone's eyes turned away from any goings-on you might want me to." She smiled suddenly. "And wear something that will distract them enough without the mental nudge. The more they want to flash those coked-up mental muscles, the less likely they are to be discreet." She tapped a fingernail on her lower lip in thought. "So with Doug being dazzling at my side, who wants to practice tapping into their systems?"
"Not it." Marie-Ange said. "Wait, no. Is this that party?" She pulled up the scan of the invitation on her laptop. "Oh merde. No, it is me. I can get myself in, and possibly an assistant.." She looked around the table. "Not Jubilee. My in is an art thief, that wedding is full of things Jubilee will have twitchy fingers about." She tapped at her laptop, clearly thinking. "Topaz. Time to go shopping. Do you want to be the personal assistant pining for me and jealous of my date, or do you want to be the former protégé?"
"Not sure I can pull off pining very well," Topaz said, tilting her head. "Former protegee, probably."
Felicia released a slow breath, gesturing. "Which leaves her ladyship and I for the upgraded smash and grab. As much as I'd love to be there in a fancy dress, probably for the best considering our... entire faces," she said, continuing with a quick wink at Sarah before she could protest, face smoothing into something like nonchalant. "This is the same group involved with my father's death, so any gossip or tidbits, well. I'll owe you."
"Did you just call me..." Sarah stared at Felicia incredulously for a split second and shook her head. A deep breath later she regained her composure. "Great. I would offer to go crash the weekly poker game after we split for info, but as Felicia so eloquently put it, this face is a fucking problem."
"The Jerome Manor? It's a fucking wedding announcement party?" Kevin's look was somewhere between shocked and incredulous. "These goomers are a half step away from an all out war and they're sending out RSVPs for a champagne and canape reception? Christ, I thought they were nutty when they were tuned up on coke in the eighties. OK, I see obvious opportunities here. What's our play?"
"I'm pretty sure there's still plenty of coke at those parties," Doug noted, having rubbed elbows with a large variety of the glitterati of New York. "It's just slightly less out in the open." He shook his head to keep from going too far down that particular rabbit hole. "I figure Emma and I make an appearance - schmooze the crowd, plant some cameras and listening devices in the main areas so that we can gather more intel from any meetings on the premises."
"There's always coke. It's the telepathic equivalent of going into one of those weightlifting gyms where men with no necks compete to lift the heaviest weights," said Emma. She shuddered lightly. "But I can sacrifice myself for the greater good and set up a telepathic switchboard, keep everyone's eyes turned away from any goings-on you might want me to." She smiled suddenly. "And wear something that will distract them enough without the mental nudge. The more they want to flash those coked-up mental muscles, the less likely they are to be discreet." She tapped a fingernail on her lower lip in thought. "So with Doug being dazzling at my side, who wants to practice tapping into their systems?"
"Not it." Marie-Ange said. "Wait, no. Is this that party?" She pulled up the scan of the invitation on her laptop. "Oh merde. No, it is me. I can get myself in, and possibly an assistant.." She looked around the table. "Not Jubilee. My in is an art thief, that wedding is full of things Jubilee will have twitchy fingers about." She tapped at her laptop, clearly thinking. "Topaz. Time to go shopping. Do you want to be the personal assistant pining for me and jealous of my date, or do you want to be the former protégé?"
"Not sure I can pull off pining very well," Topaz said, tilting her head. "Former protegee, probably."
Felicia released a slow breath, gesturing. "Which leaves her ladyship and I for the upgraded smash and grab. As much as I'd love to be there in a fancy dress, probably for the best considering our... entire faces," she said, continuing with a quick wink at Sarah before she could protest, face smoothing into something like nonchalant. "This is the same group involved with my father's death, so any gossip or tidbits, well. I'll owe you."
"Did you just call me..." Sarah stared at Felicia incredulously for a split second and shook her head. A deep breath later she regained her composure. "Great. I would offer to go crash the weekly poker game after we split for info, but as Felicia so eloquently put it, this face is a fucking problem."
