xp_logs | Emma and Shinobi finally get to talking...

x-shinobi.livejournal.com posting in

Emma Frost is standing at the window of her office, looking out at the slowly falling snow. It's good weather for her. It matches everything in her wardrobe. The heating is turned up high, so she pulls off her sweater and reaches for the silk waistcoat on the hanger on the back of the door.

Despite knowing full well that really, knocking isn't necessary, he could never let it be said that Shinobi Shaw was not polite. Halting outside the door to Emma's office, he takes a moment to make sure his off-white sweater is properly smooth before lifting a hand to lightly knock on the door, making sure his posture is straight. Must look his best, after all.

Emma hears the knock and conducts a quick scan. Ah, Shinobi. She smiles, heads back to her desk, and stands behind it, the waistcoat still in her hand. "Come in," she says.

Shinobi waits a moment - a habitual courtesy to make sure that the person he was dropping in on had time to settle comfortably - before he reaches down and opens the door, offering a friendly grin as he takes the invitation and slips inside. "Thank you." He waits to voice his first question until he's closed the door behind him, his head tilting slightly to the side. "Feeling better?"

"Much, thank you." Emma slides the waistcoat on over her shoulders and slowly buttons up. "And you, Shinobi? How are you adjusting to your little abduction overseas?"

"I fear I may have come down with Stockholm Syndrome," Shinobi muses, loosely clasping his hands together in front of him. "It's a very nice school, and there seem to be at least a few people around that make for very pleasant company."

"Yes. I suppose the little people do have their occasional charms," Emma says dryly. "Please, have a seat."

With a grin, Shinobi bows his head in silent thanks, dutifully moving further inside and towards a free chair, settling himself into it comfortably. "I do hope my visit, of sorts, has not caused you any undue trouble with the faculty.." Because really, he would be unhappy having the son of the man with giant killer robots on his speed dial in his safe haven, too.

"Oh, darling, the day I don't have trouble with the faculty is the day they all get swept away by a bursting dam." She takes her own seat and crosses her legs. "There have been some mutterings. Your father is unpopular here. But he has no greater enemy here than me, and I'm the one vouching for you. So, if you disappoint, I'll be the one you have to answer to." Her tone makes it clear that she isn't making an idle threat.

"I understand," Shinobi replies after a moment taken to push his mind's fear of disappointing somehow and the consequences that would ensue. Surely he has nothing to worry about.. it isn't like he and his father are likely to reconsile anytime soon. "I will not disappoint you. You've my word."

"Good," Emma replies, smiling sweetly. "Then let's talk about your father. Jamie was a little indiscreet. You didn't know anything about the Sentinels, did you, Shinobi?" As she asks the question, she slides into his mind, just a subtle scan to see if his next answer is the truth or a lie.

Fortunately for Shinobi, his response of "No," would appear to be an honest one, a brief surge of anger flashing through his mind before he quickly squashes it back down into its little box. Bitterness, however, he allows to come out, at least for a moment. "Father, tell me anything other than the time of day? That'll be the day."

"Mm." Emma nods, satisfied by his answer. "Well, what your father won't tell you, I will, though I assume you've picked up details here and there." She uncrosses her legs and reaches into her desk drawer, pulling out a file of photographs from the raid she and Pete conducted on Shaw's Sentinel facility. She tosses the file across the desk.

"Once upon a time, your father and I worked together to block the Sentinel programme. It cost me my school and several of my students. It profited him the opportunity to take over where Donald Pearce left off." She leans back in her chair and frowns as she speaks, creasing her pretty features. "Your father intends to sell out his race, and he intends to do so for the sake of his own purse."

While he tries to keep it from showing too much, Shinobi looks infinitely grateful at the prospect of finally being told what's been going on. Tilting his head, he reaches out for the file, settling back in his seat so that he can flip through it curiously even as he listens intently. The words, and the images, cause his eyes to progressively darken, his mouth forming a rather tight line. It does not take a telepath to tell that the young Shaw vehemently does not approve.

Emma gives Shinobi a moment to absorb the images in the file. That's just the start of it; he hasn't seen what these monsters can do, and she's seen it first hand. As far as she knows, she's their first 'victim'.

"I don't know what hope you hold for a reconciliation with your father, Shinobi, but let me be absolutely clear. If you want to make peace with him, do it soon. He is not long for this world."

"The only 'piece' I'm interested in is his head on a platter," Shinobi mutters darkly, scowling down at the file a moment long before closing it and placing it back on the desk as carefully as he can. If he put any more energy into it, he'd be throwing it, and even in his rage he doesn't want to upset Emma any more than she already is.

Emma picks up the file and returns it to its drawer.

"At present, the US government is rejecting Shaw's Sentinel programme. But that can change. He has more influence than I. More power. He has the Hellfire Club in the palm of his hand. It is not enough to eliminate Shaw. We must take the club from him, and we must exploit the opportunities it presents to favor our own ends."

"If they continue rejecting him, it's debatable that he would wait until they changed their minds. He could take to another government if he was so inclined." Leaning back in his chair, Shinobi lifts a hand to rub tiredly at his face as his mind absorbs the severity of what's been happening under his nose. However, he parts his fingers to look out at Emma from between them as her further comments register, slowly lowering his hand back to his lap. This was too good to be true. "How can I help?"

"Darling, you're eligible," she says, offering her sweetest smile. "Think how proud daddy will be when you meet him at the clubhouse... and challenge him in the boardroom."

"As much as I do love having access to the family credit line.. this is rather more important." Taking a deep breath to sooth what remains of his rather frayed nerves, Shinobi manages a grin, his expression growing ponderous. "He won't care for that much at all.. and I'm not entirely sure I'd know what to say. I'm sure, though," he adds after a moment, a little twinkle in his eye, "That you would have plenty of ideas for what to say."

"Oh, darling," Emma says, raising her hands to heaven; "I don't think you'll be lacking for ideas." She clasps her hands together. "Not with the proper counsel."

"I can think of none better than yours," Shinobi replies sincerely, his grin broadening. "I would be lying if I said this was something I've been positively dying to do for ages.. but I know I couldn't manage it alone."

"You'll be far from alone, Shinobi," Emma assures him. "You'll have the rest of the new White Court of Hellfire around you. Just as soon as the pieces are all moved into place."

"You've been thinking about this for a while, too." It isn't a question, nor an accusation. More of a pleasantly surprised musing. Shinobi rests his hands in his lap, lacing his fingers together and absentmindedly taps his thumbs together. "How many pieces short are you?"

"Well, we have a White Queen," she says, arching an eyebrow. "But if I am to have my own people around me, I need a bishop, a rook, and perhaps a knight or two. And then I need a king." She pauses. "Don't get too ambitious, darling. It takes a big man to play the king."

"I wouldn't dream of insisting on it," Shinobi chuckles, despite a small amount of disappointment. "Wherever you feel I'm best suited, King or no, you have me in your corner."

"I'll find my White King," Emma insists. "And I have a few prospects in mind for the other positions. But I think you'll find a kingship a much better fit... when it's hereditary."

And any disappointment he may have felt before is gone in an instant. "I do believe you raise a valid point," Shinobi says slowly, allowing himself a smile. "I only hope others will see matters similarly."

"Oh, darling, believe me, they'll see things very plainly. You will earn your title. We'll make sure of it." She checks her watch. "Oh, my. I have a business class in five minutes. You're welcome to sit in, if you'd like?"

"I'd like that very much," Shinobi nods, his smile brightening. "I imagine I'll be in need of the knowledge very soon. I do have some questions for you, but they can wait for another time very easily."

"You'll have a lot of questions, darling. Just remember which ones are for class and which ones are not." She rises to her feet and picks up her briefcase. "Anything desperately urgent?"

Shinobi similarly rises, shaking his head after a moment's thought. "Not that I can remember right now, to be honest. You've done a very good job of distracting me."

She tilts her head and looks at him through her eyelashes. "I can be terribly distracting," she concedes. She gestures to the door. "Shall we?"

"In an altogether wonderful way, I assure you," Shinobi agrees. With a nod, he's quick to move back towards the door so that he can do the gentlemanly thing and draw it open, holding it with one hand and making a sweeping gesture with his free arm. "Ladies first."

"Yes, we usually are," Emma agrees.