xp_logs | Heiress Discordia!, Part 1 (Reply)

Manuel and Amanda prepare to go to a Hellfire Club function. When they arrive, Manuel is called away on Lords Cardinal business.

Manuel stopped to look at himself in his floor-to-ceiling closet mirror. Hellfire costumes were always old-fashioned, but he couldn't help but _like_ the style they represented. Decadent in a way most Americans could never truly understand. The flared gloves, the long knee-length coat, the lace around the collar and sleeves, the gloves - it was all just _perfect_. Only one more piece to the puzzle, and he'd be all set.

Pausing outside the door to Manuel's suite, trying to get up the nerve to open the door and walk in, Amanda reminded herself she was being silly. Manuel already knew she was there, and running away now would be a really stupid thing to do, and it wasn't like she could run anyway in the shoes... With effort, she reined in the runaway train of thoughts and opened the door. "Manny?" she called, nervously smoothing down the dress again. Dark red silk - it had felt glorious as she slipped it on over her head. "You ready yet?"

"Almost! But come on in anyway." he said through the door, which was unlocked as was his usual custom. Inside, he was just settling a powdered wig upon his head, adjusting it this way and that to get the maximum effect. He was apparently going for the monochromatic look - white jacket, white knee-leggings, white buckle shoes, white gloves, white powdered wig, and only a black domino mask and a black ribbon through the wig to provide any relief. He looked over to Amanda, and then smiled winsomely at her. "That is an amazing look for you. You found a shade of red that actually flatters you! I'm very impressed." he said with obvious pleasure in his voice.

She blushed under Marie-Ange's careful make-up job, and then smiled, trying hard not to laugh at the wig but not being able to stop the twitch of her lips. "An' you look like a costume drama. Very fetchin' - like the handsome prince in one of those fairy stories." Coming forward to straighten the mask, the movement revealed the very long split in her floor length skirt, and a flash of leg unblemished by any scar. "Are you sure I look all right?" she asked mischeivously, stepping back again so she could give him a small spin and show him the rest - the dress was pretty much backless, the scars on her back exposed for all the world to see.

Manuel swallowed. Heavily. "Now _that_ is far more daring than anything I would have ever caught you even dreaming of, let alone actually wearing." he said with approval. He stepped over to her and nuzzled her neck gently, careful not to cover her in wig powder. "I approve." he said, sharing his arousal via a quick spike of his power. "Just need to add the sword, and then we can go. Limo's already waiting for us." he said once he reluctantly pulled away from the nuzzle.

"See, that's the problem with gettin' dressed up - you have t' be bloody careful of gettin' messed up before you get t' where yer goin'. Otherwise we could've had some fun in the limo..." Amanda mock-pouted, touching his cheek briefly before he got too far away. She had a wrap and a clutch-purse tucked under her arm, and she carefully draped the fold of heavier dark-red silk around her - it would be cold out there. "All set," she told him, with another smile.

Manuel unlocked his weapons case, and took from it the saber that Emma had given him. He pulled it from its sheath, examining the brilliance of the blade and the quality of the leather wrapping the hilt for a few moments before resheathing it and hanging the sword on his belt at precisely the right angle. "There. All set." he said, the domino mask and the sword giving him a slightly sinister air. "And you forget what I can do." he said with a faint smirk, then offered Amanda his arm. "Our chariot awaits, milady." he said.

She took the offered arm gracefully, all the lessons of Asgard coming to the fore. "Well, Prince Charming, let's go to the ball, shall we?" she said, slipping into the 'BBC accent' she intended to use that night flawlessly.

Manuel mentally blinked at the accent shift - she went from gutterpunk to a passable English accent without so much as a hiccup. "How long have you been practicing that accent?" he asked her as he escorted her through the Mansion and to the limousine. "I like it, especially for where we are going tonight."

"Since..." She thought back. "About twelve. I got sent to a posh grammer school for a while, and they insisted we learn to talk like this. I wasn't always a streetbrat, you know." Miraculously she didn't trip in the shoes, although that might have been due in part to the days she'd been practicing in them, and in part to the grip she had on his arm. "How are the ribs feeling?"

Manuel actually did roll his eyes at that. "And you've been keeping this from me the entire time?" he asked her with a teasing grin. "For shame, woman! And the ribs are still a little tender, but much better now thanks to you. And no, no Healing tonight. I do not want to inconvenience you."

"You never asked," she said, snickering. For a moment she slipped back into the East London again. "'Sides, I sound like a right tosser."

Manuel took a deep breath, and slipped into his rarely-used street-Spanish. He normally detested it, as it made him sound like Angelo. "Ese, you talkin' loco-talk!" he said with a grin. "And I should have asked you." he said in his normal accent. "My apologies for assuming."

Amanda brushed off the apology as she navigated the stairs, ignoring the looks they were getting from those they passed. "You weren't to know, and I don't really advertise it." She wrinkled her nose in amusement at the street-Spanish. "That sounds... really rough," she said. "You learned that on the streets?"

Manuel nodded. "Yep." he said quietly. "Served me well when I needed it. I don't now, so I don't use it. Besides, I hate that crap. Makes me sound like Angelo." he said with a quick teasing smile. "Not that there's anything _wrong_ with that, of course."

"Of course," she agreed with a wry grin. Boys. They reached the front door without incident, and she waited as she was supposed to while he opened it for her. The air _was_ cold, and she was glad the limo was in fact there and parked.

Manuel opened the door for Amanda, helped her get in and get situated, then entered the confines of the limo himself. Closing the doors, he waited until the limo pulled away from the main gate to speak again. "I'm going to resign, you know. As the White Knight." he told her as he reached for the champagne. "I'm going to try being ordinary for a time."

Amanda inhaled sharply. It was what she'd wanted, ever since that call from Emma Frost, the talk on the roof, and what she'd believed she'd never hear. "Are you... sure?" she asked carefully, not daring to hope just yet. "You've always said you'd be nothing without it."

"I'm sure." he said. "I told you, I'm trying to fit in with my fellows here. I can't do that if I'm the White Knight of the Hellfire Club." he added by way of explanation. "I don't know what I'm going to do with my life or how I'm going to make my way, but it will be on my terms. Perhaps we'll discover it together?" he added, his emotional state hanging on his last few words.

No tearing up, because that would ruin the makeup... Blinking rapidly, she looked up at him with a dazzling smile, leaning forward and kissing him gently, heedless of lipstick. "I'll be here as long as you want me, love," she promised. "I'm so proud of you right now I think I could burst."

Manuel could NOT keep the sloppy stupid grin off of his face. Nor, in fact, did he really want to. "I think you'll have to be paying when we go out for a while. A very long while. It occurs to me that I don't have a lot of marketable skills. But I am in a school, I should be able to fix that." he said with a grin, tasting the lipstick on his mouth and wiping it off with a glass of champagne. He poured Amanda one, then handed it to her. "To us, and whatever the future may hold." he said by way of a toast.

"You could learn ethical crime with Dom and me?" she suggested with a grin, wiping off a trace of lipstick he'd missed with her thumb. Then she accepted the glass, and touched it to his. "To us, then."

****

The limousine slowly pulled its way through the crowds, and Manuel grasped Amanda's hand to offer her support. "Big crowd out there tonight." he said with a small smile. "Since this is our last hurrah, I suppose it's only fitting." he added as he steeled his mind against the onslaught of emotions outside the vehicle. "Ready?" he asked Amanda as the limo pulled to a stop.

She could do this. She had done this, in Asgard. "Ready," she said, sliding back into bland, cultured British tones. She squeezed his hand tightly, and then let go as the limo came to a halt and Manuel's door was opened.

Manuel gave Amanda's hand one last pat before climbing out of the limousine. He basked in the conflicted chaos that was the emotions of the crowd, then forced his way around the limo to open her door and aid her in stepping out of the vehicle. His mind was steady, projecting just a trickle of reassurance.

Amanda drew herself to her full height, her posture as perfect as the best Asgardian brainwashing could make it. "Thank you," she said to Manuel as he helped her out, giving him her best smile. There were muted gasps as the wrap slipped down far enough to give a good view of the scars, the sounds not repulsed, but somehow envious, as if they were the latest high-fashioin trend. Who knew, they might very well be? Someone jostled a little too close, and she nudged ever-so-gently outwards with her telekinetic spell, blessing Nathan's training in control - no-one noticed a thing.

Manuel noticed, but he chose to let Amanda handle the situation. He strutted, with her on his arm, to the front portals to the fine old Fifth Avenue mansion that was the Hellfire Club New York City. The maiter'd announced them and escorted them to the ballroom, and then they were free to join the milling crowds. The guest-list was like a Who's Who of the rich and powerful - all of them in their finest finery, some, like Manuel, rejecting the modern notions of style in favors of ones a century older.

Manuel turned just enough to trail his fingertips down Amanda's arm as he stepped away from her, to follow the lackey sent to summon him to the business of the Lords Cardinal. Specifically, to the business of him retiring his place among them.