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| Topic Started: Aug 4 2014, 10:08 PM (373 Views) | |
| Donald Pierce | Aug 4 2014, 10:08 PM Post #1 |
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July 5, 1pm. 580 Madison Ave. Manhattan, NY, USA --------------------------------------------------------------------------- His stint in an SHIELD interrogation room had been brief, thanks partially to his cunning but mostly to a pack of well compensated lawyers, the woman he had commandeered from the club had been paid off, kidnapping charges dropped and all that was left to be handled was a potential fine. Surely he would be slapped with a fine that he would easily pay and life would carry on. In fact, it already had, he had been invited to the Bonhams auction house for a private art sale and after the night he had a couple days ago, this was a perfect remedy for such a heinous failure. The sale would exhibit mostly fine art, paintings to be specific but certainly there would be sculptures, prints and maybe even jewelry being offered up for propositions. What a better way to celebrate ones authorized freedom then to throw money to the wind and cut loose among your peers? Well the closest thing to acquaintances he had, but they would not pass judgement, in fact they would accept him and his chequebook with open, loving arms. Superficial or not, he could enjoy it. Arriving just in time to gather his number, a program and a healthy portion of chilled champagne, he settled in the third row and as close as dead center as he could. It was the paintings he was after, the real gems that not only made a statement in any room, they retained and usually doubled in value. It was another form of investment for a man who already had more money than he knew what to do with. The proceedings started and he brought the glass flute to his lips, resting his number on his thigh, scrolling through his emails on his smart phone to pass the time. An email from his lawyer would be the icing on today`s cake. Pieces of art would be brought out to the stage in groups, the auction house had so much up for grabs that it would be over whelming to load it all onto the stage. So instead they stifled the flow of art in groups of usually 4 or 5. The proceedings started out small, with the less expensive works starting the afternoon and he obliged by picking up the smaller pieces because he could. He had been attending auctions for years and he had been taught well. It was a lot like any game of skill, it was about reading your opponent’s reactions and expecting the unexpected from them. He picked up a piece for 25,000, than another for 33,000. Pierce was partial to the works of the French masters, beautiful images of scenery and light, his usually preferred his homes to be classical and bright but his tastes had recently taken a turn towards modern art. Surely his mother was spinning in her grave. Images of power, solidarity and strength was what he was looking for, or at least that was his perception and if anything else caught his eye along the way, he would not think twice about staking his claim. The first and then the second sets of paintings were bid on, bought and moved from the stage to be picked up afterwards. The auctioneer described the third wave of artwork and Donald’s ears perked up, pulling his attention away from his half glass of champagne. “Item number 117 is a piece created by….” And he blanked right out, any sound in the room was muffled and indistinguishable, the painting being described was on a large canvas, five feet square. The colours were alluringly cold and unforgiving. The brushstrokes were wild and abstract, framing the piece with its unrelenting strokes and free flowing aggression. It spoke to him, more than the two pieces he had already picked up. Those had been bought because they were deemed valuable or posh to have mounted on a wall. This painting was different, it was bold, it had a force to it and it was drawing Donald in and on a whim, he decided that he needed it. “Let’s start the bidding at 125,000.” The room was silent for only seconds more but he waited for the first couple bids, the eager beavers who didn’t quite understand how to truly win at an auction. Pierce was taught to let the anxious ones battle over price and when they reached their limit, swoop in for the victory. Everyone had their limit, he just had to wait to discover it. Unfortunately, patience was not his strongest virtue. A woman in the same row as him was the first to bid, he eyed her with a fake, but polite smile. She was elegantly dressed and dripping in diamonds. “125,000.” He pulled his eyes away from her and followed another bid from a man who was turned out equally as well, but he had a subtleness to his wealth, he felt no need to put on a show of diamonds and designer labels to impress, that alone was something to watch out for. “160,000.” Scoffing a little at the rise in piece, the woman retaliated by upping the ante another 15,000 which was followed by a meek voice near the back of the room raising the price to a solid 200,000. “Can I get a 220,000? 200,000 going once, 200,000 going twice…” The bids ceased for a couple seconds and the auctioneer called out, repeating the last amount bid for all to hear, another second and he made his interest in the piece known. With a swift motion of his hand he raised his number high above the heads of the crowd, but remained seated, still clutching the glass flute in his free hand. “250,000.” Hurried into making his intentions known, he hoped such a brash decision wouldn’t blow up in his face. There were still many pieces to be bid on and he hoped a quarter million would scare away any potential competition. Pierce flexed his wealth without remorse, it was one of his strongest attributes, most of the people in the room at least knew of him, even if they didn’t know him directly. “Ladies and Gentleman, 250,000!” The auctioneer, pointed at him with his gavel and glanced back between the others whom had bid on the piece, but it seemed they had suddenly lost their bravado, calling to the right side of the room and then the left. “That is 250,000 going once, 250,000 going twice, 250,000 going…” |
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| Sebastian Shaw | Aug 6 2014, 03:44 AM Post #2 |
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Mutton Chops of Awesome
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"Mr. Shaw... uhm... I... I mean, we... we didn't expect you to attend this gala personally? We had received word that your asso..." A single look of disdain cut the man short of finishing his dismal reservations. The nervous wreck of a balding man stood almost shakily as he held Shaw's door open, as if without the support of the metal door to lean against he would lose his footing in the mere presence of such a powerful man. Luckily his tuxedo jacket hid his gross sweat stains. Sebastian stepped out of his one of a kind Rolls Royce, straightened his tie, leveled out his cufflinks, before finally recognizing the insignificant little dog that had, just seconds ago, wasted his time with incessant barking. The Bishop peered down at the man with a disgusted look, intimidating and shaming him for no real reason. It was almost as if his one single cold glare froze the man in place with a reminder of the differences between their social classes. "Will my being here complicate the proceedings?" The question: rhetorical. Him being there was meant to do just that. "Absolutely no-" "Then do be a dear and step aside. I am afraid you are wasting air that is most assuredly better spent in circulation within my lungs." The man, fearing for his life and not really knowing why, bowed and immediately hurried away. Sebastian stared up at the sun through his $60,000.00 Diplomat I sunglasses and for a minute flinched at its power. He reminisced fondly on the brief moment he held such raw strength within him and it brought a villainous smirk to his face. One day he would hold again and never let go. Two females clad in business appropriate attire, and most likely Pawns of the Hellfire Club, accompanied Sebastian as he made his way into the Bonham's Auction House. His business was well known to 580 Madison Ave. as he, like many powerful men of industry, enjoyed masterpieces that displayed his status symbol but also worked to immortalize power and beauty through strokes of a paintbrush. The opulent attendees that immediately recognized him greeted him with fearful waves and fake smiles. None of them respected the man, they only feared him. Their false greetings would go on ignored by Shaw who continued his trek further into the seating area. The young ladies with him seemed to be conducting some type of business while the Bishop moved through the building. Whatever it was seemed important as they kept whispering in his ear. He would acknowledge only with a nod or shake of his head. He'd been away for some time now, dealing with personal matters. The Hellfire Club was his passion but he could not work efficiently if he wasn't focused. Now that that mess had been swept under the rug, so to speak, he could continue with what he truly loved; to raise the club through hellfire and brimstone. His attention was dialed in to one man. The art being on display and being sold did nothing to catch his eye. He was only interested in darker works of art and everything here seemed a little too cheery for his gloomy tastes. Shaw's eyes would only narrow upon the view of a fellow member of the Inner Circle and the sole reason for him finally coming out from under his rock. Donald Pierce. In a room full of the posh and the lavish, it was never difficult to find Pierce. For some reason, he always stood out even if if he wasn't trying to. Most of the time all you needed was to follow the smell of aged spirits. Shaw held his palm up behind him, stopping his followers in their tracks as he continued on alone. He pushed his way through people who immediately shifted in their seats or moved altogether upon figuring out who he was. Sebastian took note of the mini battle being waged over a gaudy painting that Shaw would normally overlook. Still, he couldn't resist the urge when what appeared to be the final bid, made by Pierce himself, was about to be called. "$300,000.", Sebastian called out without a paddle in hand. There was much foolishness disguised as shock in the room as Shaw unbuttoned his coat and smugly took a seat directly behind Pierce. "I do believe that magnificent painting will look marvelous just above my gold plated latrine in my newly renovated downstairs lavatory. Do you not agree, Pierce?" Shaw was rather proud of his interruption to Donald's almost acquisition. The painting meant nothing to him and didn't quite inspire the feelings the look in Donald's eyes spoke volumes on but he loved to make people pay more than they should for things they loved. Especially those he considered friends. The gavel holder excitedly continued, "That's $300,000 folks! Going once, twice..." |
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| Tessa Ayasli | Aug 6 2014, 08:05 PM Post #3 |
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Unregistered
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“Stand aside,” Lindsay Rollings said to the two White Pawns that had been accompanying Shaw. The two White Pawns had been standing in the entrance, effectively blocking the path, as they looked inside with smirks on their faces in order to watch Shaw dominate the room. They seemed even more pleased with the face that he was about to enter a bidding war with Donald Pierce, a Rook in their own court. But when the order to step aside came from behind them, they turned with narrowed eyes to look at Lindsay Rollings. Of course they recognized her as a Black Pawn. But they also knew that she was one of the few who directly served the Black Queen. They did not move from where they were standing, however. “Uh, are you two deaf?” Lindsay asked. “Or just dumb?” “Oh, we heard you,” one of the White Pawns said with a smirk. “Ugh. My Queen,” Lindsay said, turning to the woman behind her. “I think that these two do not wish for you to participate in the auction.” Tessa Ayasli took a few steps forward so that she came up beside Lindsay and then reached up to remove the sunglasses from her face. She was not dressed in the typical way that people at the Hellfire Club had grown accustomed to seeing her dressed. Instead of being decked out in her court's colors, Sage was wearing an orange-yellow blouse and a pair of jeans, with a pair of colorful heels to match. Tessa handed her sunglasses to Lindsay and looked between the two White Pawns, her eyes shimmering with red for a brief moment. “Black Queen,” the two White Pawns said in unison, bowing their heads slightly and moving quickly out of the way in order to let her pass. “See, it is much easier when you do that,” Lindsay whispered to Sage as they made their way into the auction room, moving around the back of the seats and heading towards the front on one of the far aisles. They were a bit late, but it was due to traffic. Moving into the same row that Donald Pierce was sitting in, Tessa moved down and took a seat just one chair away from Donald, just in time to hear his bid. It was followed by a bid from Shaw, who leaned forward in order to give an explanation of decorating his new golden laced bathroom. Sage got herself comfortable, crossing one leg over the other, and handed the things she was carrying with her to Lindsay who had taken a seat next to her. Finally looking up towards the painting that was on auction, she took a few moments to appreciate the wild and abstract strokes along with the many colors that were used. Perhaps it was because she was the Black Queen and so often surrounded by the dark color, but she had come to appreciate more colorful things lately. “I will have that,” Tessa said to Lindsay, before raising her left arm up to put it along the back of the chair next to her in order to look back towards Sebastian Shaw and over to Donald Pierce. “$350,000,” Lindsay said, raising her auctioning paddle. The auctioneer repeated the process, pleased with another increase as he asked around for another bid. “I did not know that you both were attending,” Tessa said, her eyes flickering from one man and then to the other. Both of them were powerful in their own right. Both of them were known enough in this community to make other bidders leave. Tessa had only just stepped out into the light, standing along Tony Stark and making herself well known at the Expo, so her presence would not make others huddle in fear or be intimidated by her wealth. However, just between the three of them, only one of them had the privilege of being Hellfire royalty. “$360,” an unknown man called from across the room. “$375,” Lindsay immediately followed. “I find it hard to believe that you have a golden toilet, Shaw,” Tessa said, a polite smile coming to her face before she looked back at Donald. “Do you suppose he has a roll of one hundred dollar bills that he uses as tissue?” |
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| Donald Pierce | Aug 6 2014, 10:01 PM Post #4 |
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Maybe it was the champagne, or the flexing of financial might, perhaps it was a combination of the two, Pierce felt at ease, lounging comfortably in his tailored suit, his jacket unbuttoned, his tie was fastened immaculately. He was a capitalist, elitist pig and was quite content with it and enjoyed any and every opportunity he was given to relish in such a lifestyle that could only be provided by wealth and the power that came with such entitlement. His intentions were known, his desires clear and it seemed that the pretty piece displayed in front of the room for all to see would be his. Another victory, no matter how small was welcomed, it urged him to continue on a path he felt so at home with. Maybe it made him small to enjoy such a minuscule victory but he was terribly self-absorbed, so the thought never dawned on him. "$300,000." A satisfied smirk faded into that of momentary distain, he didn`t even need to acknowledge the source of that bid to know whom was pissing in his cornflakes. The seated crowd moved for the new comer and for a moment jealously and resentment consumed the bionic man. His shoulders tensed and the blood that ran through his hybrid systems began to boil. Sebastian Shaw, yet another big fish in a smaller, but nonetheless, exclusive Manhattan pond. He shouldn’t have taken the bid so personally but alas, he did. “Did you come all this way Sebastian, just to ruin my day?” He was a fool, but not to the point that he didn’t recognize that Shaw and he could do this all day, both of their fiscal resources were practically uncapped. Last he had heard was the Bishop had been driven mad and had chosen to go into hiding, maybe it was all rumours, the club was quite the source for such things. Shaw had taken a rather heroic route at the tail end of the Illuminati global take over and lived to tell the tale, or at least it seemed. Perhaps it was something to be discussed over some vintage scotch on a later date. He turned slightly in his seat providing a side view of a snide leer that could strip the paint off walls or overpriced artwork for that matter. He tipped back the remaining bubbly in his hand, downing it in one swift gulp, exaggerating its level of refreshment with an audible pucker of his lips. “Or am I the next God you wish to topple?” As far as he was concerned he was practically immortal and was diligently working to make it definitive fact and less of a personal opinion. Condescending to the highest levels, he batted his eyes a little and then his optics caught the sight of the one, the only Black Queen joining his row of seating. Much like Shaw, she had arrived with an entourage of pawns. He was different in that regard, not requiring the attention of lesser beings to aid in his day to day life. The banter with Shaw was mostly good natured, playful jabs among men on a similar plane of existence, but the Black Queen was elevated past them both, whether the men would admit it or not. Elegant and regal, her presence demanded attention and before any words were exchanged, he bowed his head for a moment, a feat he did not do for just anyone. Pierce wished to climb the social ladder, with men it was usually vying for power and money, handshakes and promises. He saw a different strategy with woman, it was all about tact, respect and well placed charms. “$350,000,” Disbelief that yet another soul was standing in his way, he did not react in the same manner that he had with Shaw though. Instead he maintained the guise of a gentleman, reserved and pleasant as ever. “One of us was invited, I happen to find it terribly uncouth to crash private functions.” That may have been a jab based on upbringing, Pierce had been born into wealth, Shaw hadn’t been so lucky. Momentarily, his attention left Shaw and the proceedings happening before them all, with politeness and panache he greeted the Black Court’s queen like they were the dearest of friends. “You grace us all with your presence.” He smiled, pausing to raise his hands to frame the Queen momentarily in his fingers, carrying on his façade as some sort of art guru. “A true vision.” His pleasantness only faded when the pawn seated next Sage bid on the piece and he exhaled sharply as his expression dropped, almost as if he was about to accept defeat at the hands of a woman. 360, 375… He simply couldn’t allow that, Queen or not. While he found himself intrigued by their similar tastes, he wasn’t about to lie down and admit defeat. “$400. In fact, make it $450.” His gaze was piercing, his movement’s rigid and sharp, amusement returned to his features as he glanced between his fellow club members. “An astonishing bid of $450,000!” The auctioneer announced for the room to hear, Pierced brushed it off like it was nothing, poised and polished as ever, that smug sense of self satisfaction returned to his features for anyone with functioning eyes to witness. "Going once, going twice..." An overbearing chuckle ushered in his next series of words, “I would not put it past, him. First class all the way. ” Obviously tickled by the Queen’s interjection, it aided him in ignoring the stab at his own tastes and it took him a couple seconds to word an equally colourful retort. Once he found the words, he fully turned to face the Bishop and as he did so, a slight hum of hydraulics whispered under the noise in the room. “Watch out for this one Shaw, she is mindful to how you make profit off all of your bullshit.” |
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| Sebastian Shaw | Aug 7 2014, 05:54 AM Post #5 |
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Mutton Chops of Awesome
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Audible murmurs and not-so-silent whispers spread throughout the auction house like a plague of locusts. Sebastian understood full well that Donald would not take too kindly to this intrusion. But when had anybody's displeasure over one of his actions ever inhibited Shaw? The White Bishop's joy knew no bounds as the White Rook voiced his annoyance. This day would end up being eventful if only for the friendly competition that would no doubt ensue. In these circles, money was a toy to play with; a measuring stick to properly define and place the wealthy in their proper levels amongst socialites. Shaw was never one to flaunt that which lined his pockets. He often did just because he could but it wasn't something that he had to do. Pierce, however, reveled in money and the displays of power that came from having so much of it. Sebastian figured Donald would appreciate this moment to shine through dollar signs. The White Rook questioned the White Bishop's attendance to such a gaudy affair. Were it anyone else doing the same, Shaw would be forced to smother them out with the heels of his nearly $2,000.00 Berluti Rapieces Reprises. Donald, however, could get away with such a jab and come out of it nearly unscathed. He could even get away with obnoxiously indulging in what was left of his wine. What he couldn't get away with was comparing himself to a malevolent being. "God?", Shaw scoffed as he fired back at him. "Either the Gods themselves have lowered their standards to adopt your sort into their lot or, and this is the more likely scenario, you overestimate your existence." While Donald was a man, one of the few non-mutants in the Hellfire Club that Shaw believed earned their spot, he was nowhere near godlihood. Shaw fidgeted with his position in his chair, attempting to find comfort in the primitive seating that was offered. He had to settle for content in a straightened position. "But to answer your question, I am here only to enlighten your day. The price for your freedom was paid through many channels, some of which belonged to me. As far as I am concerned, I am owed a great debt and I will take payment solely through a drink... or two." Pierce's lawyers weren't the only reason he was able to attend this gala personally. Sebastian's hands always worked to ensure those in his court, and even the Black's, were well taken care of. The latter of which finally made their presence known with a number. “$350,000.00” The Club's position was immediately legitimized the moment The Black Queen enchanted the room by walking in it. She was everything a Queen should be. Beautiful, strong, independent and all other cliches used to describe a woman in power of the 21st century. It was hard for her to go unnoticed even if she wasn't dressed in the usual color of her court. in fact, she had become even harder to ignore now that she looked like a vacationing supermodel. Now that her bid was placed, she acknowledged the pair. Pierce, predictably, took that moment to insult Shaw who took it with stride before retorting, "Yes, well one of us needs to be invited to feel like they belong while others only see fit to to find their place and sit in it. What does that speak about the differences in men, Ms. Ayasli?" If anything, Tessa would relate with Shaw more when it came to building something from nothing. In that aspect they were similar. Though Shaw knew beforehand that she would be appearing, as his spies are rooted deep in the foundations of both courts, he would act the fool. "You truly are stunning, Black Queen. In that aspect it is hard to argue with Pierce. I had hoped to run into him here but never did I imagine running into you. I would ask how the universe has treated you but clearly the answer is well." Pierce's desperate reaching to be noticed through pleasantries by the Queen was downright disgusting. Moments ago, Pierce was proclaiming himself a ruler of the heavens. Now he was a merely a sniveling brownnoser nuzzling up to royalty. His blatant change in demeanor was scrutinized by Shaw but he would not speak out loud on it. They were all guilty of such falsities in one shape or another. It was procedure of sorts when dealing with the higher-ups of the Inner Circle. "Donald is right. You are truly a vision... a very vibrant vision.", he commented on the colors she was sporting. It was a bit distracting to see her without the black. On that same token, it was also rather pleasing to the eye. "I am surprised your new-found celebrity has freed you up to mingle with the average men and women of Upper Manhattan. I would think you too busy with the likes of Tony Stark to find the time." He poked a little fun at her expense as her face seemed to be on the cover of every tech mag in production now. "I hear your presentation at Stark Expo went off without a hitch. There are rumors that your net-worth will be reaching the heavens soon enough. I, of course, predicted this outcome months before but I am pleased that the world is finally catching up with your genius." The compliment was genuine and had he a glass in hand he would raise it in her name. Instead she had to settle with the truth. "It is truly a blessing to see you finally step out from under the shade, so to speak." "$375,000.00" Clearly the painting's price was raising to ridiculous levels but Shaw would not be deterred. As he was about to place another bid, Donald's voice rang out. “$400. In fact, make it $450.” Sebastian normally would let that painting go. He joined this bid war just to annoy Pierce but now that Tessa had also joined it had become something far more valuable then what it started out as. Shaw would let Pierce think he was walking away with it for the moment as his attention turned to Tessa with a rambunctious laugh. "And why wouldn't I, milady? Any great conqueror deserves a golden throne upon which to rest and consider his conquests and meaning in life." Of course he didn't have a golden toilet. He was merely insulting Pierce's tastes who participated with an insult of his own. Sebastian smiled politely and considered his next words before saying them out loud. "I find it amusing that a man, who not so long was carried away in handcuffs by the jesters of SHIELD, is now commenting about my class and indecent dealings. I hide nothing from the royals of both courts. How i earn my profit is no secret. I would much rather display the bullshit, as you call it, rather than to sweep it under the carpet when the stench would be just as unbearable. Not all of us inherit wealth after being born from a golden womb." His eyes never wavered as he spoke every word directed at Pierce. "I believe the mechanisms that inhabit your body are in need of oil, my dear boy. I can hear your inner workings loud and clearly." Somehow, this was still friendly? "$500,000.00!" Shaw's voice boomed off the walls as the man that held the gavel nearly collapsed with a heart attack at the raise in bid. The room became lively with excitement as Shaw's eyes never looked away from Pierce's. He would gaze for a moment longer before connecting with Tessa's. "Why stop now? We have only just begun." |
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| Tessa Ayasli | Aug 13 2014, 09:15 PM Post #6 |
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Sage shifted her gaze back to the artwork that was being bid on, silently wondering how the artist was going to react to their piece selling for such an amount. This was exactly how someone became famous, she surmised. Not that their artwork was particularly better than another person's, but that the value of their paintings rose above other artist's. There were those that were truly great and were in high demand, but then there were others who were slightly above average who were famous because everything they painted sold for high amounts. Tessa wondered how many times Hellfire Club members sat together in situations like these in the past, making an artist more famous than they deserved. Tessa sat motionless for a short time, her eyes on the painting, when Shaw continued where Donald left off and complimented her appearance. There was no shortage of that. Even if she was the ugliest duck in the room, people would compliment her because she was the Black Queen. Thankfully she was not hideous and had been blessed with her birth mother and father's Roma genes, granting her year round tan skin and dark eyes and hair. Her mutation and wealth helped tremendously as well, of course. “I am not bound to any one place, Shaw,” Sage said, turning away from the painting and looking back to him as the price of the painting was driven higher by Donald. “Though I do enjoy the company of Tony Stark. He is one of the few people who has nothing to gain by complimenting me, yet he does it anyways.” She grinned at him, as if making a point. “But yes, I agree. The Stark Expo has helped me tremendously. Thanks to Tony, my brand is now recognized throughout the major markets in the world and hopefully soon it will become a household name,” she said, looking to Donald and his whirring hydraulic systems. “But we will see about that.” Tessa's eyes flashed red as she looked at Donald and her eyes traveled over him from head to toe. It was nothing sexual. She was not checking him out in the sense that most people would think. However, she was looking the man over in several other ways. The artist who did this to him was excellent at what she did, that being Spiral, but the thought of that name did not please her. She would have to check out Pierce more thoroughly one of these days to ensure that Spiral did not have some kind of fail-safe or over ride in his systems. “You and I should have a more private discussion one of these days, Donald,” Tessa said, leaning over to him and saying it quietly. “There are many things about you that I may be able to assist with... audible hydraulic systems being just one of them.” Sage suddenly looked back at Sebastian seemed to shout $500,000 at the top of his lungs. Most other people around them jumped in surprise, but she looked back at him with a raised brow. Sitting back up from leaning over to Donald, Tessa looked over at Lindsay. “Do you wish to go higher, my Queen?” Lindsay asked quietly, still looking at Shaw as if he intimidated her. “I said that I would have it,” Sage said to Lindsay, then turned her head back to the two men. “And who are you both to deny me of it?” “$525,000,” Lindsay said. Sage smirked at Donald and Sebastian. |
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| Donald Pierce | Aug 14 2014, 08:29 PM Post #7 |
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He didn’t concern himself with the reactions of the background noise, for a time he had been, but now, in a bidding war that was nearly half a million dollars, he was completely immersed and momentarily stunned. In a state of disbelief that this was actually occurring, but more importantly, he could sense the ownership of his painting slipping through his fingers. What Donald didn’t appreciate was the lack of consideration involved in airing out his dirty laundry. He was a man of many faces and he held such a task in very high regard. He didn’t need any of those among them to be intrigued by such gossip. He practically vibrated in his seat and underneath his finely tailored attire. “Sort?” He repeated the word almost instantly, he recognized the intent of such a choice of words and frankly, did not like it. His eyes narrowed at the other man before spinning his gaze back to the front of the room. “Oh do I now?” Quickly followed, it was rhetorical of course, but he still wished to hear such an assumption restated. Some people just knew how to get under his skin, the Bishop continued, enlightening him in such matters as his present freedom and an apparent debt. At that point, Pierce nearly boiled over and for a moment he considered a more hands on the approach in expressing the importance of subtlety. But instead, partially for refreshment and partially out of spite, glanced to the side of the room to the nearest employee of the auction house, he was tempted to impose upon the pawn seated next to Tessa, but made due with imposing on a complete stranger instead. Words were not necessary, a simple gesture for a round of champagne and they were delivered with haste. Just as Tessa placed her bid over Sebastian’s, several flutes of champagne arrived via a serving tray and he plucked them without a thought. The first he passed down to the ladies, Tessa and her aid, next himself and finally reaching behind himself to Shaw. “To freedom.” He tipped the crystal to Shaw, and then raised it slightly to the ladies. The Black Queen seemed genuinely interested the painting and Shaw? Maybe this was a way to seek repayment for such a favour. He engrossed himself with his drink for a few moments, allowing the two other members to exchange a few words about the recent Stark expo and Tessa’s most recent business venture. He smirked at Sage when their eyes met, it was definitely apparent he was in need of a tune up, but she handled herself differently, it wasn’t as offensive. “I can appreciate a work in progress.” Her eyes flashed, just a moment, if he had blinked he would have missed it, but he didn’t. Instead he followed her optics for a few seconds more before looking away to sip on his drink. That was until Shaw brought up the SHEILD debacle again and he pivoted away from the Queen, his head turned first and his body soon followed, locking eyes with the other man as he told quite a well-informed tale. Pierce was curious with how far Shaw’s sources went, Pierce obviously wasn’t the only one with a political edge. Donald shook his head slightly as the statement progressed from his birthright, to the state of his bionics. He didn’t require anyone to tell him about his financial decisions nor the nature of his physiology, he took offense, great offense and as it was surely intended. “How dare you lecture me on matters you know nothing about.” His voice rose slightly for a moment, realizing that in fact Shaw knew many things especially in regards to his trouble with the law, and he followed with a sudden change in demeanor, he composed himself almost entirely. “If what you say is true, that I have you to thank, then I owe you a favor and I can stand behind that. Take my painting I no longer care…” Not entirely true, but he continued. “But please, cease comparing me to some decrepit, tin man.” Maintaining that same state of composure even as the price tag hiked to a new high, he adjusted his tie calmly and wet his lips with more champagne. He could play politics and if he had to he could admit defeat, if only to retire to safety to lick his wounds. Pierce was an egomaniac, but he had too much on the line to allow it to dictate his actions entirely. “That sounds quite pleasant, would you believe how difficult It is to find a good mechanic now a days?” For a moment he wondered if his workings were distinguishable by their source, Spiral was definitely no friend to the Hellfire Club. In apprehension he lightly bounced a crossed leg over his knee, he would cross that bridge when he had to. As the Black Queen solidified her interest in the item yet again and he focused on her in the same manner she had just done him. It wasn’t entirely sexual either (maybe slightly), although it was hard to not admire a woman with beauty and brains. He tilted his head, bringing a bionic hand to his chin. Silently he debated if he should let her have the painting, it would be the gentlemanly thing to do. “550,000.” Pride got the best of him, smug and ever so stately as he placed his bid. Surely, if she really wanted it the Black Queen could afford to go a little higher. And for Shaw? Favor or not, he was truly testing Donald’s already nonexistence patience. |
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| Sebastian Shaw | Aug 20 2014, 06:49 AM Post #8 |
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Mutton Chops of Awesome
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Getting under people's skin is a feat that Shaw had excelled at for most of his life. Sometimes it was intentional; but for the most part it was the complete opposite. Sebastian was known for rubbing people the wrong way and he never found any reason to remedy this common occurrence. It had become a helpful tool he utilized freely to distance himself from the unworthy. The joy he received from hearing the grinding of Donald's gears and seeing the grinding of his teeth as he bit his tongue was worth every penny he was willing to spend to purchase this painting. A masterpiece, arguable to Shaw, from an artist that would most likely see his stock rise to heights he never dreamed of thanks to this little impromptu soiree the Hellfire Club had created. It was clear that Donald was being pushed pass the point of annoyance and that was intentional. Sebastian craved a reaction from the half-man but all Donald could muster was an offer of a drink instead. Sebastian was not thrilled. In order to not to be rude to the cyborg he considered a friend he took the glass but would refrain from drinking its' contents lest he ruin his pallet with cheap wine. Shaw could not understand how Donald could simply sit there and be bombarded by insult after insult without having anything to retort. Sebastian would simply leave Pierce's rhetorical question hanging in the air as he was done playing this game. It pleased the Bishop to know that Sage understood how compliments worked when they came from the outer rings of the Inner Circle. What wasn't pleasing was her insinuating that Shaw's were nothing short of empty. Those words never came from her mouth but the smile aimed in his direction was duly noted. Stark had plenty to gain from associating himself with the Black Queen and he hoped that Tessa would be smarter than to fall victim to his charisma. He tried oh so very hard to not voice his concerns but he was not like Donald. He could not hold his tongue when he felt that what he had to say was important. If she wanted honesty, he would give it to her. He reciprocated her smile with one of his own before settling in with his decision. "My dear Queen, every man that compliments you has something to gain from it. I would suggest you not let your guard down around anyone. Especially Stark..." His smile faded as he did not intend to insult but rather inform her of something she most likely already knew. "But I am speaking on matters that don't concern me. If I am being out of line I hope that you can forgive me. I simply want to ensure that your sights not be distracted by frivolous playboys. The last thing the Club needs is a Queen whose latest advancement is overshadowed by the fact that she is a notch on some superficial pretty boy's bed post. Appearance is everything, my dear. Though I am sure you have the situation well handled." It wasn't intentional, but it couldn't be helped either. He would lean back in his chair as The Black Queen and White Rook exchanged words concerning Pierce's bionics. They really were a thing of beauty if he were to sit there and ponder on them but he rarely did. instead Sebastian nodded along as one of his associates whispered something into his ear, waving her off after she was done. Immediately after, Donald uncharacteristically lashed out at Shaw, which was a bit unexpected. However, just as quick as it came it went away and he even offered up his painting as a gift. Shaw disregarded his colleague's false surrender. "Always playing the politician, Pierce. One day you shall have to decide what it is you truly want and come up with the proper course to go about attaining it rather than just waiting around to feed on the scraps like some vulture. There is great strength within you if only you have the balls to go with it. Or have those been replaced as well?" He paused for dramatic effect before continuing. "You owe me only what you are willing to give." The bids on the painting itself had become white noise to Shaw. The world outside the little huddle between Club members was static. What went on at the auction house bared little weight. All he needed to know was that the price of the painting had reached exorbitant levels. Tessa's latest bid was followed with a question for the Bishop and Rook. Sebastian could not keep himself from answering it as though he felt obligated to. There was a time that he sat on a throne and his actions as King would go untested. His rule was unquestioned and he would admit himself that he had fallen from grace. Only lately the thoughts of wearing a crown had become prominent in his head and for her to ask "Who are you?" further solidified his own quest. "I am but a humble servant to the throne, milady..." He bowed his head to her and in a genuine way showed her the respect she deserved. This was not some meaningless action. "Until the day that i am not." He paused and looked up at the painting, expecting for Donald to place his bid which he promptly did shortly after Tessa's and their continued discussion about his inner workings. Shaw would turn to his Queen, "And today, as far as that painting is concerned, I am not. You can have the world, my Queen. I would help deliver it to you and Elizabeth. But this painting will be mine if only to prove that you can not conquer everything alone. Of course, it is merely a painting by some unknown artist. What meaning could possibly lie beneath the cheap canvas and crooked paintbrush strokes?" "$575,000.00!" He shouted across the room, still without a paddle in hand. "Perhaps it is a meaning we shall find together before the night is through." |
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2:39 PM Jul 11