(no subject)

[x-shinobi.livejournal.com]

Set after this post. Shinobi goes to see Emma after one of her classes lets out, and gets not one, but two gifts for his trouble.



Emma is in her office, dressed relatively conservatively in white slacks and a buttoned down white tail coat. She's wrapping up a three student tutorial on the poems of Verlaine. Emma leans back against the window and folds her copy closed against her thigh.

"So, for your homework, I want you to look at how Verlaine represented sensuality. Look at the sexual imagery in his work. Is it explicit? Is it merely representational? See if you can tell, without looking it up on the internet or reading the translations, whether Verlaine was passive or dominant. It's all in there. We'll meet back here on Wednesday. Have your wits sharpened."

Shinobi had seen the summons waiting for him on the system, such as it was, and as fortune would have it, his earliest convenience was.. well.. now. He knows there's a class in session, though, so he waits patiently outside with his hands tucked away in his pockets, letting the trio of students file out of the room before leaning over to peek around the edge of the doorway. "You called, Emma?"

Emma smiles and gestures at the seats vacated by the students. "Shinobi, darling. Thank you for coming. Do have a seat."

"Bah, it's always my pleasure." With a grin, Shinobi dutifully steps around and through the doorway, giving the door a light nudge to close it on his way by before claiming one of the vacated chairs for his own.

Emma pulls open her desk drawer and pulls out a manila envelope, then steps around and sits beside Shinobi in one of the other vacated chairs. "Are you familiar with Bryce Manning, darling? Works for Halliburton?"

Absently, Shinobi shifts in his seat so he can more comfortably converse, brow briefly furrowing in thought. "Your Bishop, isn't he?" he asks after a moment, tilting his head. "Well, White Bishop, anyway. Important fellow besides that, I'd imagine."

"Well, he was," Emma says with a sigh. "Had a heart attack this morning, poor fellow. I've been telling him for months, he needs to reduce his committments. Let a few things go. But, he was always so stubborn." She crosses her legs and folds her hands across her knee. "They're very hopeful he'll make a recovery, but I fear he'll never quite be his old self again."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Shinobi blinks, unconsciously straightening his posture. "Do hope he'll be alright.. ah, anything I can do? I don't know if you two were precisely close or anything, and I'll be the first to admit the whole 'consoling' gig is a rather new experience, but.."

Emma laughs lightly. "Oh, darling, no. It's terribly sad, of course, but I'll cope, I really will." For such a practised poker player, she's not having much luck keeping the smile off her face. "It does leave me with a predicament, though. No king, no bishop... my White Court is threadbare."

Shinobi eyes the smile a moment before allowing himself to develop one of his own, quirking one eyebrow curiously. "Well, now, we can't have that.. but I'll try not to be overly presumptuous, just the same." Hopeful, certainly, but not presumptuous.

Emma reaches in to the envelope and pulls out a smaller envelope, made of crisp white watermarked paper. "Inside this envelope is a 27% share of Shaw Industries," Emma explains. "Some of it used to belong to me. A lot of it used to belong to Bryce Manning. Now it belongs to you." She hands the envelope across.

Shinobi can't keep his eyes from widening as they quickly dart down to the envelope, no matter how much attention he's been paying during the poker games, very slowly reaching out to accept it. "27%," he repeats slowly, shaking himself. "I'm.. not entirely sure what to say."

"You'll find a way to thank me," Emma says. "It's only a start, of course, but I think the Shaw family business should stay within the Shaw family, don't you?"

"At least until I figure out what to do with it," Shinobi nods, looking up with a vaguely sheepish grin. "I have no idea what I'd do with the bloody business if -- *when* -- I get ahold of it."

"You'll learn," Emma says. She leans back in her chair and runs a hand through her hair. "You'll have a lot of people trying to teach you, when this becomes public knowledge. Which will be soon. Your father, for one."

"Oh, yes. He'll just love it, I'm sure." With a smirk, Shinobi looks down to the envelope again, idly tracing a fingertip along the seal. "I think this is rather more soon than he'd ever intended on handing over his various crowns."

Emma laughs again. "Well, there's more to the family jewels than just that, Shinobi. Which brings me to the other reason I called you here today." She reaches in to the envelope again and pulls out an embossed card, holding it at enough of a distance that he can only make out that it's an invitation.

Apparently, the laughter is contagious, given the chuckle Shinobi's in the middle of when he looks up again. "Again, I'll try not to presume," he muses, grinning and squinting slightly in an effort to better see the invitation. He gives up quickly enough. "What's this?"

Emma passes it over. There, in gold script, is written; 'Shinobi Shaw, you are hereby invited to assume the seat of White Bishop of the Hellfire Club, by the request of White Queen Emma Frost, Black Queen Selene. Your presence is requested the night of February 29th at Endymion Hall, New York'.

Accepting the card, Shinobi draws it closer so that he can finally sate his curiousity and have a read. His lips quirk into a lopsided grin, and with a thoughtful noise that could do a better job of hiding just how pleased he is, he nods sagely. "I think my schedule's clear that night. I'd love to."

"You'll be my right hand, Shinobi. You'll need business interests of your own. You'll need to start getting involved. The Court is not merely ceremonial. You will be important. You will be expected to build power and wield influence." Emma watches his expression. "I'm trusting you to raise your game, Shinobi. I'm trusting that you'll be up to the job."

"I'll need help," Shinobi replies after a moment, his grin quickly replaced with a more serious, thoughtful expression, and maybe just a little bit of nervousness. "At least until I get my balance, as it were, and get accustomed to how things are done. It's a lot to take on all at once, but letting you down is not something I'm inclined to let myself do."

"You'll have help," Emma says. "I'll let you know who you can trust, and how far. You'll be part of the court, Shinobi. You'll have me." Her expression is intense, her eyes sharp as knives. "But the Hellfire Club isn't Xavier's School, Shinobi. You understand that, yes?"

"I'd be a fool not to." Shinobi smiles a touch, finding the intensity oddly reassuring. "I understand."

"Good." Emma smiles again, and the next time she speaks, her tone is lighter again. "So, it's your big night, darling. A sort of debutante ball for yourself and Manuel. Any idea who you'd like to bring along?"

"I'd *like* to bring Sarah, but I don't know if I have enough bribery material to get her somewhere so formal," Shinobi muses, rubbing his forehead thoughtfully. "Tablecloths had her nervous, and that was slumming."

"Oh, you must bring Sarah," Emma insists. "She's been to Endymion Hall before. I'm sure she can be persuaded. What about Marie? You said the girl needed to be civilised?"

"I'll bribe Sarah as best I can," Shinobi agrees, smiling brightly and idly drumming his fingers against his knee. "Marie.. shouldn't be wasted. She's going *nuts* here. She needs more. Has earned more. If she can come, I think it might be good for her."

"Well, good. I think she'll enjoy the experience, assuming she survives. Anyone else I should put on the list? Places are limited, but I am the White Queen, I think I can swing it."

Shinobi can't help but grin, at that. "That's certainly true enough. Truthfully, though, I'm not sure." He glances down, frowning in thought. "Perhaps Shiro. He should see not everything in the New York area is boorish and uncivilized sometime, shouldn't he?"

"Oh, absolutely. The Hellfire Club is decadent and corrupt. I expect he'll loathe it utterly." Feeling a sense of accomplishment, Emma stretches out against the back of the chair and lets out an airy sigh. "Oh, what a party it will be, Shinobi. And that's only the start of it, my dear."

"He'll loathe the Club, but appreciate decadence," Shinobi agrees, eyeing his new acquisitions a moment before tucking them carefully into his dress shirt's breast pocket. "Oh, yes. Once I'm in, there's the whole 'overthrow the Black King' dance left to do, after all. Or is there even more?"

"Today, the family business, tomorrow..." Emma pauses. "Well, tomorrow is another day."