Owner	Pose
Emma Frost	Nico is taken to Emma's office by a sympathetic front desk clerk. Who then skedaddles as quickly as he can leaving Nico in front of the door. Before she even has a chance to raise her hand to knock or press a button or anything--it's not immediately clear how to signal--the door opens. "Ah, yes. Ms. Addams. Good of you to come. I wasn't sure if you were really interested." Yes. Emma is keeping with the Wednesday Addams thing. "Would you care for a drink? A cigarette?" She pauses, looking Nico up and down. "No, I don't supposed you would. Chewing gum?" Emma stands aside to let Nico in. "There's chewing gum on the bar. Several flavours, pick whichever you like. Or all if that's your choice."
Nico Minoru	Nico kind of wants to glower, but... well, she's a 10/10 on the goth-o-meter today, so it's not like she can even deny her Wednesday Addams-ness, which just makes having it called out all the more infuriating. She glowers and huffs, but it's hard to deny it when she's wearing a surprisingly well-tailored black silk high collar blouse and matching skirt over sleek stockings with silvery spider web embroidery. Instead all she can really do is cross her arms and mumbles softly, "Hey! I do -too- drink and smoke sometimes... but... isn't it the work day? Doesn't the company have policies about that or something?"
Emma Frost	"I am the company, dear, and the company is a private entity who does whatever she pleases. She does whatever she pleases because she's at the top and doesn't answer to anybody but herself." She gestures to the bar. "Drinks and cigarettes there too. Other things as well, but since we're going out I'd recommend not using that. That's more for the end of day phase." Emma glances at her wrist as if checking the time, despite wearing no watch. "Choose quickly, however. We have business to attend to. I have a building to organize. A kind soul sold his building to its residents for a dollar and I've got legalities to deal with and some organization to arrange."
Nico Minoru	Nico rolls her eyes a little, it's all so very dramatic... this new boss. Or potential boss? She's still not entirely sure she's -really- got the job. But while in Rome and all. She picks out a finer brand of silk filtered cigarette and tucks it behind her ear... a treat for later, it seems. "Well, let's get going then... I mean, the sooner the day starts the sooner it's over and all, right? Idle hands and other such sayings." She falls in beside Emma and fights back a little grin, "I mean, given the progress I've seen on your other real estate operation, whoever this kind soul is isn't going to be able to stand up against you. But paperwork seems to be the unyielding bedrock of all corporate power, so I can see why minimal delay would be a good idea. Get it out of the way as soon as possible, right?"
Emma Frost	Emma takes the girl down to her car--her ghost-white Bentley (OOC: http://e.pc.cd/ryBotalK)--and drives the narrow, cluttered streets with manic confidence. "This one is a bit different. The sale has been completed, but I purchased it on behalf of a group. The group is organizing now as a trust and electing from among themselves the managers of the trust. We've got to get the charter..." She gestures at her briefcase. "...you'll find it in there in the Salamone file. Take it out and get familiar with its contents. At any rate, we've got to get the charter out and approved, the board sworn in, and then start them on the path to self-improvement." Emma shoots a glance at Nico with what appears, shockingly, to be a genuine smile. "My first real success if this all works out. And your first day at work. Try not to make it your last. I have exacting standards of behaviour and I let you intuit them. There's a clue in what got you hired. See if you can figure it out." The Bentley screams up to the building, making a bit of a display as it's stopped, only to be upstaged by the display Emma makes, chiefly of her booted legs, as she exits. "Come now, Ms. Minoru. We have work to do. Bring the briefcase and be ready to pull out the documents I need as I need them. And get a feel for the people. I'll need your impressions later."
Nico Minoru	Nico opens the case, and it seems high school dropout or not, she's got a bit of a knack for paperwork. Or at least she manages to find the right files and begins to read through them with intent focus, eyes narrowing slightly, like she's trying to burn the words into her memory. Even if it's a little more dry and esoteric than even the spellbooks she's spent her free time studying. Paperwork's slipped back into the briefcase, latches closed, and she does her best to if not match Emma's display upon exiting the vehicle, compliment it, shadow and light and all. Goth and queen of the world side by side. Although Nico hasn't quite mastered the cool, detached businessface that Emma no doubt rocks. So the goth sort of just... stares at the building and mumbles, "Well, it's not like the remodel could make the place any -worse-..."
Hank Pym	And three giant ants are pulling a wrecked car out from the alleyway behind the building. the creatures are only the size3 of mastiffs but seem to have no problem hauling the wreckage out and mooning the cube-square law. Brought to you by the miracle of Pym particles. Hank is right behind them, about 12 feet tall with a smoking dumpster on his shoulder. He sets it down and stretches not that he grows anymore. He sprays some foam from a canister into the dumpster for good measure as he shrinks down. "OK. that car must be Mr. Salome's, because Ms. Frost didn't buy a wrecked Pinto... be good ants and return it to him. His parking lot is three blocks down. Any problems give a yell, ok? Oh hello! Morning Emma. Morning..., you." Hank is normal sized now and retracts the face mask of his armor. "It's my new persona -Fire Ant! Ironically putting out a fire in a dumpster that was blocked by this wreck." The ants scuttle down the street, the female giving Emma an up nod.
Emma Frost	Well, Hank managed to do something nothing else today has managed thus far. He's managed to surprise her. She pauses mid-stride when the ants come out, seeming almost ready to take a combat stance when ... Hank shows up and it all starts making sense. "Hank. How wonderful to see you. What brings you to this neighbourhood? Rival ant colony to invade?" Her face is flat, but her eyes are dancing. "And really, Fire Ant? Why not..." She pauses, closing her eyes. Hank feels a tickling sensation in his head. "...Solenopsis? That way people can ask what you mean and you can feel superior as you explain that's the genus for fire ants. She pauses as if aware she's forgotten something but isn't sure what. "Oh, right. Hank, this is Nico Minoru, my newest personal assistant. Nico, this is Hank Pym. Of the Avengers." She gestures to the building. "We're about to do battle. The goal is to give people some pride."
Nico Minoru	Nico's eyebrows lift, more at the giant ants than the wrecked car. The building has solid 'wrecked car' vibes. Arguably solid 'ant' vibes too, jsut not so big. Still, she takes a slow breath, gripping the briefcase a little tighter, doing her best to keep up that cool, uncaring goth mask. It's game time and so forth. She shrugs and glances sidelong at Emma, "Well, I'd say if the only thing to happen today that can be called a dumpster fire is... an actual dumpster fire, we'll be ahead of the game." She bobs her head with a bright smile to Hank, "Pleased to meet you Dr. Pym! And yes, we are about to enter the -exciting world- of corporate real estate acquisition. And you thought Skrulls were scary." She clears her throat softly. She's definitely being flippant because it's just such a breezy day. Not because she's actually a little nervous or anything.
Hank Pym	Hank Pym smirks. He feeds the tickle in his head, the lady like way it avoids his mass of whirling thoughts. His reply is wordless, but appreciative at first then he finds his inner voice. His lips barely twitch as he subvocalizes. "Good morning, sunshine. I just realized... PDA psionically detected affection. Because me being affectionate in public would shatter some people's world views." Hank removes one glove and holds a hand out to Nico. "How are you? Sharp outfit. My daughter likes that look though she adds red to it. It may be a genetic trait I passed down to her. Please, call me Hank." Then he looks to Emma and replies verbally, "I need no prompting to feel superior. You know the feeling."
Emma Frost	"No, I don't, Hank," Emma says. "I've never felt superior in my life. I just am." Again deadpan face and dancing eyes. "Come join us, though. A genuine celebrity would be good for this meeting. And it could boost your public status as well." Now she's just being mean. But her face has broken out into a teasing grin. Thankfully Nico hasn't been around Emma long enough to understand just how unlike her that really is. Usually when she grins it's almost feral in its predatory nature. Guiding Nico with a gesture, and assuming Hank will follow (despite the light abuse), Emma enters the building and quickly locates the apartment that's been selected for the meeting room. It's the nicest one. Nice being (very) relative. And in honour of Emma, their "saviour" they've gussied it up. With hand-painted "Welcome Ms. Frost" signs on the cleanest scraps of paper they could find. (It would be best not to ask what the paint is made of.) The smell, naturally, is ... Wait. There is no particular smell, though the eyes show that they should be smelling mold at the very least. And possibly more questionable substances. Hank may know what gives, but Nico?... "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for that wonderful sign." Butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. "Did you do as I asked? Did you elect a board to run the trust?"
Hank Pym	Hank Pym pulls a scanner out and runs an unobtrusive air check. He looks more like someone checking his watch or calendar on a phone. He sends a thought Emma's way, "Holy shit... you have dangerous quantities of three kinds of mold in here. Also... roaches. Also rats, the roaches narced on them. Uhmmm I need about three hours to make an aerosol bomb. The bomb will take 12 hours to work. The mold will be gone. The aerosol will be gone. Either that or get your dollar back." It pays to know a world ranked biochemist. Hank closes the scanner and puts it away. "Emma, if you're asking me to legitimize you, that's asking a lot of an Inactive Avenger," he says. "I mean Captain America, maybe..." he says softly.