xp_logs | Hope and Kevin: A bar encounter

xp_trance posting in

Hope and Kevin meet in a bar. Drinks are had, conversation as well and Hope leaves warned.

The Campbell Bar wasn't exactly a secret. It was regularly written up in the classier tourist magazines and sported a look over Grand Central Terminal. A place that was a magnet for 'well actually' explanations about the more popular term 'Grand Central Station'. But they had done a good job recreating much of the aesthetic of John Campbell's era and the high end cocktails were a deserving part of New York City's elite mixology. Kevin was just finishing up his liquid lunch, with a captain of industry who lacked his stamina and liked to disclose industry secrets while he was drunk to show how powerful he was. Kevin loved helping them show how powerful they were, while tucking the information in his head and passing them the combined cheque to cover.

He had just stood and smoothed down his tie when he noticed Hope sitting at the corner of the bar.

"A 'Who's that ginger?' please." Hope requested from the bartender before glancing over her notes. In so many aspects this bar would have been a great location for the fundraiser she was looking at, but it had too much of an 'old white men with cigars' atmosphere for the younger crowd the candidate hoped to attract. And with the potential of social media today... Mentally she crossed it off the list, but the notes were quickly saved for potential future idea's.

She tucked her tablet away when her cocktail arrived, idly glancing around as she sipped it. She almost missed the familiar face, but once Hope caught his eye, she inclined her head. Kevin Sydney... she knew of him of course, but they never had interacted much.

Kevin took the nod for an invite and threaded over to the bar. He slid into a seat and simply pointed at the bottle of McKenna with three fingers. The triple was smoothly poured and slid over. "I do love a professional bartender. Too many are just goofs who know how to pour a pint or wouldbe exotic mixologists who are too busy trying to hickory smoke an ice cube for their latest creation to properly tend to their customers."

"I think they stuck a fair balance." Hope lifted her cocktail a little and studied it for a moment. "There was just enough of a show to be entertaining, but without outshining the drink itself. Which is excellent, by the way. How is your drink?" She nodded at the glass that was slid in front of him.

"Solid bourbon, a touch underpriced for its quality. I know neat is back in style but bourbon needs ice to unlock the notes of corn in it." He said after a sip. "What brings you here? This is a little more old school than I expected from you."

"Just scouting a potential venue for an event." Hope gestured towards her tablet. "Probably it will not work for this, but perhaps for something in the future. I imagine it must be a more familiar haunt for you though?"

"Not really. This place opened when I was still underwater. I remember hearing stories of John Campbell's famous office when I moved to New York in the early 60s, but that was after he was dead."

"Then it must be my turn to ask what brings you here." Hope loosely gestured to her surroundings with her glass, after sipping from her cocktail. "Because if I may say so, you look like you fit right in. Although it is quite centrally located, while still offering a fair amount of discretion."

"I had a business meeting with the older gentleman who is currently on his third try putting his jacket back on. Drunk people are such lovely sources."

Hope glanced around and easily found him, recognizing him immediately. "Poor Theodore. If he is not careful, he will almost certainly trip." She observed. "And he usually has so many interesting tidbits to share when he has a few drinks. Especially when there is an adoring young woman hanging on to every word."

"Not tonight. He was more interested in showing how much he knows." Kevin said, leaning back in his seat. "And I didn't need to do adoring young woman tonight. I tend to save that for Europe."

"Good. That role gets so incredibly tedious after a while." She raised her glass in a small toast. "I hope you got what you were looking for. And hopefully it means I will not be seeing Theodore tonight. If that is the case, you have my thanks..." A small frown flashed over her face, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

"Why would you see Teddy? He doesn't seem your type, being old, not blonde and, well, male."

"Stardust is 'dancing' tonight at the Club..." Hope stifled a quick snort. "I have never seen him miss one of her 'shows'."

"He does have the soul of a pimp. I'm sure he'll be flashing his Black Club credentials in order to do... well, whatever. I'm looking forward to bankrupting him down the road." Kevin said with a wolfish smile as he finished his drink and waved for another.

"Get him 'snipped' along the way if you can." Hope contributed with a suggestive gesture as she finished her own cocktail. "Believe me, you will be doing the world a double favor." Scanning the drinks menu, she quickly added a 'Picante Condo' to the order. "So do you ever have the chance to visit? I am having a hard time imagining a man of your stature being unable to attain membership."

"The only time I'm in the Hellfire Club is when I have to be for work. And under those circumstances, if you ever see me, I'm not doing my job well." Kevin drained the rest of his drink, setting it down as a new one appeared almost as if by magic. "I got more than enough of the Hellfire Club and its clientele in my youth."

Sipping from her new cocktail, Hope had to stifle a cough from the distinct flavor. She sipped it again, more carefully this time. "This is different. Good, but different." Looking back at Kevin she raised an inquisitive eyebrow: "It sounds like there is a story there? Possibly even multiple stories?"

"I've got stories all day. Part of being immensely old." He nodded. "My in-laws were members, so I went to plenty of occasions there. More than enough to acquire a deep and abiding loathing of their courts and clientele."

"Your in-laws? Here in New York?" Hope eyed him curiously. "Or at one of the other courts?"

"Absolutely New York. Although I've been to the London and Paris branches as well. But yes, your location in midtown back in the day. That's where I met Worthington's old man and his grandfather for the first time."

"That must have been a pleasure..." Hope shook her head, thinking of her own few encounters with the man. "Has his personality always been this sparkling or is that a more recent development?"

"Warren Jr was just a snot nosed prep school kid at that time. His grandfather was the real fucking monster. So, obviously, he was a good fit for the Hellfire Club." Kevin said. "It was a little different back in the day. Social clubs had a lot more catchet and what you now call networking could open up extremely lucrative opportunities over nothing more than a drink and the services of a prostitute."

"I would say the last one is still true, though maybe slightly less prevalent. At least from my observations." Hope tapped her finger to her glass. "Worthington's grandfather having monster-like qualities explains a lot about that family." Shaking her head, she zoned in on another point. "Wait, you said your in-laws were members? Is the family still around?"

"Cousins and the like. After the divorce, I stopped paying attention. My ex-wife died twelve years ago."

"No longer relevant." Hope underwrote her words with a little nod.

"Not in the context of the kind of fuckery the HFC goes for, thankfully. She raised a good family, as opposed to a bunch of affluent pricks."

Taking a larger swallow from her cocktail, Hope contemplated what the man before had said, darting glances at his face now and then. "You truly despise the Club, do you not? Or would abhor be a better word to use?" She finally asked simply.

"The club is just a reflection of the people, and those people I truly despise." Kevin said simply. "It's a collection of people to whom the rest of humanity is nothing more than things, and when people only see other people as things, monsters are born. I've looked too many of them in the eye over a disappointing chicken Supreme dinner fundraiser and seen the ugly secrets and excesses, the broken lives, and the literal bodies their appetites leave in their wake. And, as much as I esteem Emma Frost and her capabilities, no one ever truly changes that world from within. It usually changes you first."

Hope nodded thoughtfully: "I believe you might be right about it being nigh impossible to change that world from the inside out. And I am well aware that it can have an insidious influence on those part of it. Yet I also believe that there is an amount of resources there that one can simply not ignore."

"Oh, I certainly don't ignore the Hellfire Club. But thinking you can direct or control it is like trying to beat a rabid dog to death with a rattlesnake, as my old drill sergeant liked to say." Kevin said, a slow smile blooming. "I want to do exactly what I do; exploit them as much as I can, hurt them when an opportunity presents itself, and if they ever give me the opening, burn the whole fucking thing to the ground."

"I see...." Hope studied his face for a moment. "Does 'them' include your teammates?"

"It's an interesting question. My hope is that they will make the right choice if it comes to that. But if they don't..." Kevin leaned back and took a sip. "Ninety years on this planet has taught me a lot of things. And one of those is that sometimes... sacrifice matters. The Hellfire Club will never, and can ever be anything more than a necessary evil. You can think differently... an advantage of youth, but that class will burn the world if it profits them. And at some point, I decided that wasn't a devil's bargain I could take any more."

Hope kept it simple, just giving another nod. "I will consider myself warned then."

"If that's how you want to see it. Dying to protect the power and privilege of the worst of humanity is a hill I've already died on, and I can tell you from direct experience-" He stood up, finishing off his drink and placing it on the bar. "-it's a pretty empty way to go." He said and left without another word.