6380/A Less Cordial Meeting

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A Less Cordial Meeting
Date of Scene: 30 May 2021
Location: Emma Frosts's offices at the Outreach
Synopsis: Erik has a talk with Emma. Emma reconsiders the phrase 'Erik doesn't terrify me'. Remy, Mystique and Blink are on hand to witness the discussion.
Cast of Characters: Emma Frost, Remy LeBeau, Erik Lensherr, Raven Darkholme, Clarice Ferguson

Emma Frost has posed:
The aftermath of the raid on the factory had Emma going back to her prisoner and this time not so gently questioning, ripping away layer after layer of his mind as she forced her will upon him and rifled through his memories with less regard for keeping him intact at the end.

The resulting quivering hulk of a man might someday recover well enough to do simple menial labour.

"I don't understand!" she later complained to Remy as she looked over the pile of Kick precursor on her desk. "This is Kick. Well, the precursor before it's aerosolized. This is not what we found at that factory -- but I've gone through the man's mind with more detail than I go through a lover's little black book."


"That reminds me, I'll need yours."


"And that factory is exactly where he got the Kick precursor from. They had to have either retooled in record time, or they've discovered a way to turn Kick into a suppressant. Either way, we've got a problem on our hands!"

She stared at the pile of little baggies a while longer as if trying to read their minds before turning away in disgust and pouring herself a claret. "What's your poison?" she asks... as...

Remy LeBeau has posed:
    Remy stands at the front of her desk, a dime bag in his hand, and he's looking at it rather closely with a close eye, trying to see if there's anything the less than street wise Emma might have missed that the alley cat cajun might be able to suss out.

    Tossing the bag back onto the pile with a weak twist of his wrist and shrugging his shoulders, "Mah black book is mah own, Emma, you'll haveta make your own." He says with a cocky smirk as he leans forward onto the front of the desk and then takes in a deep breath before looking up and shaking his head, "Non, no poison fo' me tonight. Ah'm thinkin' Ah might go back out, look fo' anot'er shipment as the bosses'll likely be wanting to recoup deir losses quickly."

Erik Lensherr has posed:
With a sizzling sound, a portal opens up right in front of the elevator, avoiding damage to anything in the office. First out is Blink, followed by Mystique and finally Magneto, in the full outfit as usual. The portal closes as he looks over at Emma and says quietly, "I do hope you have a moment, Emma. I wanted to discuss something with you." He gestures and a chair glides over to him so he can sit down.

"I was slightly unhappy with the way things went with your drug factory tip. I thought we might have a little talk about it. Please, sit. Let's talk."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique arrives with Erik with her game face on, that is to say she looks pissed. She wears her usual body suit and boots, however they are completely black as night. She gives the room a scan as she enters, eyes settling on Remy for just a moment then slowly move to Emma and narrow. She says nothing, moving to her usual place of standing behind Erik on the right hand side.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice steps through first - her long black duster brushing against her legs as she moves. In each hand, she holds one of her thin, silvery javelins, though as no threats reveal themselves, they seem to shred into mist and vanish, leaving her hands empty once more. She takes up her own position at Magneto's left, her hands hanging loosely at her side and her features impassive - aside from a brief nod of greeting - and a momentary flicker of a smile.

Emma Frost has posed:
It's fortunate that there's only one telepath in the room and that said telepath is Emma because otherwise there would be a great deal of profanity (creatively applied from fifteen different languages) flooding said telepaths' thoughts. Her shock at Erik's sudden arrival, along with his shock troops', is enough that she actually spills some claret she was pouring, over-filling her glass and sending a few drops onto her hand and the bartop.

The chill of evaporating alcohol snaps her out of her brief paralysis as she tries to process what was going on.

"Oh, Erik. Raven. Clarice. How nice of you to drop by," she says, rallying from the initial shock. She briefly turns to the bar to wipe up the spillage quickly, especially from her glove before the wine could stain. "I was intending on calling you once I had more information, but now is as good a time as any."

She gestures to the opened bar. "What's your poison? I'm afraid, again, Erik, I have no decent beers. They're astonishingly difficult to find these days. All the crafts make IPAs which, though I don't know about you, I find frightfully repulsive. The ones that used to make good bocks have vanished into the æther, or so it seems."

She turns to Remy, "Remy, could you pull out chairs Raven and Clarice as well?" That this puts him behind them is just an added bonus atop the politesse, naturally.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
    The cajun feels that familiar shift in the atmosphere, though the lack of brimstone gives a hint that it's not someone he's familiar with. The cajun is turning to scan the room, and both of his hands are filled with a hand each of playing cards and they're starting to glow with that familiar purple glow.

    His body is hunched over and as the trio steps through, the cajun reads the room and squints slightly, standing up to his full height, but he doesn't restash the cards back up his sleeves. Not yet.

    He shoots a glance towards Emma with a clear thought crossing the surface of his mind, figuring she'd read it, but he doesn't disobey her request. "Yah, Ah'll get some seats fo' em." Remy says, his red eyes lingering on Clarice, and Erik, but landing on Mystique lastly as he walks past, deeper into the office to gather a pair of chairs and makes his way back to the trio to give them the upholstery.

Erik Lensherr has posed:
The amused smile on his face indicates that Emma's discomfiture was pretty much the point of his method of arrival, and that he recognizes her delay to regain her composure. "I'm fine, thank you Emma. This shouldn't take all that long." He glances at Remy as the man goes by on his chair fetching errand, and waits for said chairs to be in place.

"Was that enough time for you to take a few deep breaths, Emma? Let us begin then, and I will let you get back to your evening." He steeples his fingers and looks across them at her, "Your information was rather sorely lacking, and it endangered the people I sent to deal with the situation. That does not make me happy, as you can imagine."

He tilts his head slightly and continues, "Do you have any explanation for how you were so badly off on your information? I rather expected a telepath of your skill to be more precise."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Ignoring the chair entirely, Mystique turns herself so that she can see Remy and Emma, not about to have anyone behind her for any reason, nice try Emma.

Erik is doing the talking, and he does it so very well. That leaves her to maintain being ticked off in her body language and watch the Remy and Emma. She isn't trying to conceal that she is watching them, that would be ludicrous and a waste of energy, it's likely expected that she will be watching them so she just does it.

As Erik speaks she settles her eyes on Emma to watch her reaction, then immediately looks back to Remy and makes a kissy face at him, with a wink. Almost as if tempting him to try something.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    At the offer of a drink, Clarice's gaze goes towards the bar - taking a brief stock of everything on offer. As Erik refuses the offered drink, however, she likewise offers a brief shake of her head. It was best behavior and politics on this trip, it seemed, even if she does regret it.
    As the chair is brought for her, Clarice offers another brief smile - this time towards Remy. Yes, they're here to express displeasure. But that doesn't mean she has to be //rude//, does it? She doesn't sit on the offered chair, either - at least, not precisely. Instead, she leans back against one of the chair's arms, tucking one of her feet back as she tries to do her part of making sure that both Emma and Remy are always in at least someone's line of sight.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma has, indeed, taken the few breaths the delay afforded her and has settled back into the ruler of all she surveys mode of arrogance she is so famous for.

"Yes, Erik," she begins, continuing after a brief pause to sip her overfull glass down to something she can carry without further spillage. "I was disappointed myself. I interrogated the informant again afterward and..." She raises her left shoulder--the side not carrying a drink. "...my information remained the same. I was not gentle with this second interrogation."

Any with an ounce of empathy will likely get chills hearing her say that, knowing what she is capable of doing and, more importantly, has done.

"The information remained the same."

Striding in her finery over to her desk and the pile of blue powder in baggies that sits atop it, she picks one up.

"This, Erik, Raven, Clarice, is Cortisone D in its purest form. Kick precursor, before it is aerosolized. This is what I recovered from my informant. This was the subject of both interrogations. In both interrogations it was clear in his memories that he obtained the drugs from that facility."

She tosses the baggie to Mystique. "Have your experts analyze it. If you need more..." A wry expression crosses her face as she glances back at her desk. "I have plenty. Just let me know before I take steps to destroy it."

Another sip, her eyes darting over the scene from over the rim of her glass, in case it goes tactical. Blink is the weak point. The means of egress should such be needed.

"I honestly do not know how the information could be so bad. On scene it turns out the three individuals who knew what they were making were partially screened from my probes by their protective gear. I don't think it was intentional, just unfortunate, unhappy coincidence that the materials they used interfered with espionage. Rather like your helmet, only not deliberately fashioned and nowhere near as impervious. I felt them there, but couldn't get clear thoughts. Attempts to dig deeper could have started an alert and put people in even more danger."

Setting down her drink she picks a cigarette from her desk's holder and lights it, sucking in a lungful and expelling the smoke in a wreath around her head.

Taking two strikes to get a flame.

"You and I both know, Erik, from plenty of experience--you far more than me--that operations go sideways sometimes. This was one of those times. I'm as unhappy about it as you are, but unapologetic. I acted on the best information available to me along the whole way. Even had I done the intense interrogation first nothing would have changed in my actions."

Remy LeBeau has posed:
    The face from Mystique doesn't seem to rattle Remy as he slips the chair behind her knees and then does the same thing for Clarice who, seems to be the only one in the room that wouldn't be happier seeing his scruffy head on a plater. He hopes.

    In a whisper to Mystique as he drops the chair off, "Ah know ya don' think too mucha me, but Ah ain' DAT dumb." He says before making his way over to the open bar. Okay, for sure he's going to need a drink one way or another, and taking a crystal, and pulling down a decanter, he pops it open, takes a smell of the brown contents and comes to the conclusion it doesn't matter too much what the drink is, he's going to need one to get through this.

    There's no response to Erik, nothing for him to say as he's not even aware of what the raid was. Not like there was a mutant-wide debrief on the daily happenings on the events of Bushwich.

    The cajun listens to Emma's explination and outright gumption to not bow to the master of magnetism as so many tend to do, but she holds her own. She feels, she knows, she demands to be on the same playing level as the elder-mutant. Remy, for his part, remains quiet, his own gaze upon Mystique, and Clarice, but again, the blue woman capture's most of Remy's attention due to their recent interactions.

Erik Lensherr has posed:
"No, I do understand that sometimes things go sideways. This was a rather extreme example of that, however. All of your information before and after says Kick, yet my people walked into a cloud of mutant suppression drug. That rather screams trap to me, that somehow the drug was in the air just in time to strip my people of their powers when they attacked. It is fortunate that Mystique depends on skill in combat situations rather than her abilities, as skills cannot be removed."

His eyes narrow slightly, "Still, I can let that pass. Sometimes intelligence reports are wrong. No, what I'm a bit miffed about was your staying out of the situation until it was all over, then coming in to make it look like this was all done at your command."

He sits back slightly, and every metal item on Emma's desk leaps into the air and surrounds her, elongating into rather pointy shapes.

"The Brotherhood does not work for you Emma. We happen to share an interest in assisting mutants and stopping those that would harm them, but you will not score points for yourself using my people. Understood?"

The cloud of metal darts presses closer to her, then whips to the side and embeds itself deeply into the wall above the desk. Erik's expression doesn't change in the least at any point.

"I'm glad we could have this talk. Hopefully in the future, we will avoid such misunderstandings and continue a mutually beneficial relationship. That would be far better than the alternative, since I very much dislike harming other mutants."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Using her foot, Mystique slides the chair out from directly behind her, then turns herself again so that she can watch Remy at the bar, and Emma behind her desk, or rather her attempt at a shield and feeling important.

As Erik continues to speak, getting to the point of the meeting, she watched the metal with interest. A dark smile across her lips as the metal shifts and then the darts embed themselves in the walls. Erik always expressed things so much better than she could, and he said everything they had discussed.

For a single quick moment she glances to Blink, to see what her reaction to this is. Emma's reaction is likely a need for new clothing and a new chair, but that was besides the point. Blink was Mystique's interest now.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Does Clarice enjoy watching Magneto threaten people with sharp shards of metal? ... not particularly. But does it surprise her? No. And so her features remain a studiously impassive mask as Erik and his swarm of metal shards make their point - while she casually creates a pair of her slender, silver javelins in her hands. If someone is going to get jump, and make a 'perfectly polite' conversation turn violent - then this was likely to be that moment. Other than that, she remains still - her gaze flicking between Remy and Emma in cautious anticipation. She doesn't spare a glance towards Mystique, however, and so for the moment is unaware of the woman's gaze on her.

Emma Frost has posed:
Anybody else in the world, literally anyone, would have gone pale at the sudden display of darts closing in on her before their sudden redirection. Emma does not.

How does the whitest woman who ever whited get paler?

But had she not already been the palest of the pale, had she ordinary flesh tones with that slight ruddiness that one finds in most people, her skin would surely have turned to alabaster instead of that being its starting point.

It doesn't matter. Erik doesn't need to see the whiteness forming. The physiology that makes people pale has other impacts. Like the sudden sheen of perspiration forming a very thin layer over her body. The tremble in her shoulders and the hand holding the cigarette. The subtle grip of the chair back to keep herself steady.

The pupils of her eye dilating.

Yes, the terror is still visible to those who know what they're looking for.

There's a full second before she trusts herself to speak.

"Yes, I can see that would be taken disrespectfully, Erik," she finally says, internally relieved that she managed to keep her voice level. "I was caught up in the moment. I did not intend, naturally, to show you disrespect."

~Because you're a frightening ogre.~ That part is left unsaid except in Remy's mind.

"I will take measures to ensure it doesn't happen again."

As she speaks she becomes more relaxed, filling the role she's set herself in this drama. She eyes the spiked things in her wall. "Consider your message delivered. Will you be wanting more of this?" Her hand waves at the baggies. "For analysis? I have a very gifted chemist who will be looking for possible sources of the components from the little signatures the ingredients used to make it often leave behind. Would you care to partake so you can do some tracking? I will, of course, share any results I derive."

Then. Only then does she finally reach for her wine. And take a large gulp.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
    Remy watches the metal at her desk rise up, and the Cajun turns his attention towards Erik, knowing exactly who's doing that, and with what the two men represent to each other, Remy isn't the alpha type, or the type to believe in that sort of rhetoric, but he is also not stupid. There's very little he could do to Erik in this situation.

    His mind is racing with options, but every single move other than staying still where he is, ends up in his death and likely Emma's, and she'd kill him again for being so stupid. But words find their way out. "One of you here can actually move around the street without having some level of renown or awe following in your wake." Remy points out, "Give me and Mystique some time and we can track down who's really sellin' the kick. Dere's no need for threatening each ot'er for somet'in' so trivial as a botched op." Remy says, putting his own two cents out there, and lifting his bourbon to his lips and taking a long pull from the hard liquor. Just in case he dies now.

Erik Lensherr has posed:
Magneto stands up once Emma's reaction and reply makes it clear that she understands what he's actually unhappy about. Remy's comments are simply ignored, as the man wasn't there for the incident in question, nor is he picking up on the actual reason for the tension in the room.

He nods at Emma's offer, "Mystique, collect a few of those samples. We can do some investigation as well. Blink, time to go home. As before, do avoid damaging anything with your portal please."

Well, other than the spike studded wall, anyway. That's gonna take a good amount of spackle to fix.

Once Mystique has the Kick bags and the portal opens, Erik inclines his head to Emma politely and says, "Have a good evening Emma. Always a pleasure talking to you." He looks to Remy, raising an eyebrow and murmers, "Do feel free to use your contact to try and find out who was enslaving our people, it would probably be more useful than what you do at Charles' school." He steps through the portal and is gone.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique has the one that was tossed to her, but she moves to collect two more, never taking her eyes off Emma as she does. One very curt, quick nod is offered when she had the bags in hand and moves back to stand with Erik and Blink.

"I will be speaking to you soon Remy," she offers coldly, then steps through the portal.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Sensing the end of the conversation - Clarice rises to her feet, and at Eric's command, simply nods her head and lifts one hand to summon a large, slowly spinning portal of energy - through which the corridors of their asteroid home can be spotted. And whether it's wise or not, she does have a pair of javelin's in her hands - and so the young woman finally speaks. "You know. I think I will have that drink?" She glances towards the bar, and choosing one of the crystal decanters, she sends the silvery bolt flying towards it. It appears out of the air just in front of Clarice to be caught neatly in her hands - and she lifts it towards Emma in a sign of gratitude before she steps through, and seals off the portal.
    The decanter will reappear in Emma's office later - minus a glass or two of whatever it is she just managed to purloin.