Secret Society Episode 002 - Elementary

 

Secret Society – Episode 002: Elementary

Victoria Deschamps continues her quest to save NPCW from the oncoming darkness.  To do so she enlists help from legendary heroes, fights compromised colleagues and rallies her allies.  

Scene 1: Meeting the Detectives

The skyline of Toronto stretches endlessly beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of Victoria Deschamps’ executive office—a powerful vantage point over the city, with the CN Tower standing tall and Rogers Centre gleaming under the late afternoon sun.

Victoria, Vice Chair of KBL Wrestling, sits confidently at her desk, exuding the kind of sharp-witted leadership that commands respect. But today, even her usual air of calm control is tinged with a hint of tension.

Because today, she is seeking answers.

Across from her, two distinguished gentlemen, seemingly plucked from 19th-century England, settle into their chairs. Their presence feels almost out of place in a modern office, yet somehow, their keen eyes cut through the atmosphere with an unnatural sharpness.

One of them leans forward, fingers tented together in deep thought, piercing gaze unwavering. Detective Sherlock Holmes—the greatest mind of his time, now drawn into the tangled web of NPCW’s dark mysteries.

Beside him, Dr. John Watson, ever the loyal companion, wears an expression of wearied skepticism, his presence a grounding force to Holmes' brilliance.

Victoria folds her hands neatly, locking eyes with Holmes as she speaks.

"Thank you, Detective Holmes, for taking on this case."

Holmes smiles faintly, adjusting his coat before leaning in ever so slightly.

"No worries, Ms. Deschamps. I am intrigued to learn more about this Count you speak of."

Victoria nods, shifting slightly in her chair. "Not much is known about his background or origins. What I can tell you is that he runs the Dark Dominion with an iron fist, and people fear him so much that they are hesitant even to speak his name. Every path I have followed in my own investigations has led to dead ends, half-truths, or silence."

Dr. Watson, ever the skeptic, lets out a low grunt, shaking his head.

"Ah, great. Another possible maniacal madman bent on domination…"

Holmes, chuckling softly, glances toward his companion.

"Oh, Doctor, if it were not for madmen, we would surely find ourselves out of a job."

Victoria smirks slightly at the exchange, though the gravity of the situation lingers.

Holmes straightens, a quiet determination sharpening his features.

"Very well, Ms. Deschamps, we shall begin our inquiries into Count Vlad immediately. I anticipate preliminary findings within a week."

Victoria nods, but then, her expression hardens, the weight of her next words pressing down upon the conversation.

"Thank you, but one more thing—discretion is of the utmost importance. I fear he may have spies here. Please, only provide your findings directly to me."

Holmes’ eyes glint with intrigue, a knowing smile curling at the edges of his lips.

"Discretion is our middle name, Ms. Deschamps."

With that, both men rise gracefully, Holmes adjusting his coat, Watson casting a last wary glance toward Victoria.

Without another word, the two depart, their footsteps quiet yet purposeful, leaving Victoria to contemplate what answers they will uncover.

And more importantly—if she is truly ready to hear them.

Scene 2: The Compromised Colleague

The scent of freshly brewed coffee lingers in the air as Victoria Deschamps stands by her desk, arms folded, her gaze fixed on the city below. The glow of the CN Tower looms through the window, reflecting the power and prestige she’s fought tirelessly to maintain. But today’s meeting is not about prestige—it’s about survival.

A polished knock echoes through her office door.

She knows who it is.

With practiced composure, she turns just as Jacques Renaud steps inside—the President of KBL Wrestling, a man whose reputation has been built on tough negotiations, strategic brilliance, and an uncanny ability to command authority.

But Victoria is no fool.

She’s been watching him. And she doesn’t like what she’s seeing.

The Exchange Begins

Jacques: "Victoria. Always a pleasure."

His tone is smooth, his words carefully measured. But Victoria notes the pause—a hesitation just barely perceptible, like a predator testing the air.

Victoria: (gracious yet firm) "Jacques. How are things at the Office of the President?"

She gestures toward the seats opposite her desk, but she doesn’t sit first. Power is all about positioning.

Jacques smiles thinly, adjusting the cuff of his expensive suit before settling in.

Jacques: "Quite well, I’d say. NPCW continues to thrive under new leadership. Success speaks for itself, wouldn’t you agree?"

There it is. The bait—dangling just close enough to test her reaction.

Victoria smiles politely, but her eyes stay sharp.

Victoria: "Indeed. Commissioner Cratchit is… certainly an interesting choice. The transition was sudden, but I suppose we must trust in the decisions made at the top."

Jacques watches her carefully, leaning forward ever so slightly.

Jacques: "I appreciate your confidence in the leadership, Victoria. It’s what separates true professionals from reactionary naysayers. Speaking of leadership, I understand you’ve made some notable appointments yourself."

Victoria crosses one leg over the other, keeping her posture relaxed but undeniably present.

Victoria: "If you’re referring to Ms. Sweetins as Executive General Manager of the Women’s Division, yes—I felt it was necessary. Women's wrestling deserves proper elevation in NPCW, and she has the drive to make it happen. Surely, Jacques, you wouldn’t be opposed to growth?"

Jacques chuckles, low and calculated.

Jacques: "Growth is always welcome. But careful growth, Victoria. You understand how these things work—too much disruption, and suddenly people start asking unnecessary questions."

Victoria tilts her head slightly, as if entertaining the notion without truly accepting it.

Victoria: "Questions are part of business. The right ones, at least. You must know that better than anyone."

Jacques studies her, his fingers drumming lightly against the armrest of his chair.

He’s testing her. Feeling out whether she knows too much.

Jacques: "Of course. Transparency is key, after all."

Victoria doesn’t flinch.

Victoria: "That it is."

A pause.

A shift in energy.

Jacques leans back, watching her with the faintest glint of satisfaction.

Jacques: "I must say, Victoria, it’s refreshing to speak with someone who understands the value of discretion. It’s a rare trait these days."

Victoria allows herself the smallest smile, careful not to give too much away.

Victoria: "Discretion is what keeps things in order, Jacques."

Jacques: (grinning) "Exactly. Order."

Another pause.

Then Jacques stands, buttoning his jacket in a slow, deliberate movement.

Jacques: "This has been enlightening. Thank you for your time, Victoria. I trust we will continue to be aligned in ensuring NPCW’s success."

Victoria rises as well, shaking his hand—firm, precise, unwavering.

Victoria: "Of course, Jacques. NPCW deserves only the best."

As he turns to leave, Victoria finally allows herself a moment of silence, watching him go.

He suspects her. That much is clear.

But now?

She’s certain.

Jacques Renaud is compromised.

And this investigation? Just became personal.

Scene 3: A New Identity

The tension from Jacques Renaud’s visit lingers in Victoria Deschamps’ office, but she refuses to let it consume her. She stands near the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the Toronto skyline, the CN Tower casting its long shadow over the city.

Then, a sharp knock at the door.

Victoria turns quickly, but relaxes when she sees Ms. Sweetins enter—arms full of garment bags, her expression laced with apprehension.

The Conversation Begins

Victoria smiles warmly, motioning for Sweetins to come in.

Victoria: "I hope your shopping trip was successful."

Sweetins lets out a breath, placing the bags down carefully.

Sweetins: (hesitant) "I think so… but I’m not sure about this plan, Victoria."

Victoria moves closer, placing a reassuring hand on Sweetins’ shoulder.

Victoria: "I know it’s asking a lot from you, but I also know you have it in you to do this. It’s important that Scrooge, Vlad, and their allies believe you are not the threat that you truly are."

Sweetins runs a hand through her hair, conflicted.

Sweetins: "I know it’s important, but this character is so… very out of character for me. I just don’t know if I can pull it off."

Victoria chuckles softly, eyes gleaming with quiet confidence.

Victoria: "Oh, Ms. Sweetins—if anyone can do this, it’s you. After all, you’ve been doing just this for quite some time now."

Sweetins blushes slightly, her gaze dropping to the floor.

She knows Victoria is right. She has been playing a role within NPCW for months now, hiding her true intentions behind a careful persona. But this new identity would be something else entirely.

Victoria changes gears, stepping toward the desk.

Victoria: "I wish Agent Buckle were here to help. He’s the master of new identities."

Sweetins visibly relaxes at the mention of Buckle, finally settling into the conversation.

Sweetins: "He’s somewhere in Europe right now, chasing down leads. If anyone can do this, it’s Buckle."

Victoria tilts her head slightly, contemplating.

Victoria: "If Buckle finds him, do you think he will help us?"

Sweetins takes a deep breath, thinking carefully before answering.

Sweetins: (thoughtful) "Yes. I do think he will do what is right."

Victoria smiles, sensing Sweetins’ confidence growing.

Victoria: "Okay, let’s look at those dresses and see which one will be best for Saturday night."

With that, the scene fades, leaving them combing through glamorous gowns, preparing for whatever deception is about to unfold.