xp_logs | Paradise Lost: Of Chaos and Eternal Night (Reply)

The small meeting room of the Hellfire Club hadn't changed that much when the world had ended and been made anew. Emma tended to believe that it might be a fixed point in all the space/time continuums she'd been informed of by Xorn: stupidly rich mutants with expensive tastes surely always tended to exactly the same sumptuous office spaces, full of wood and warm lighting, carpets so thick that if you stood still for long enough you risked sinking in up to your ankles, and furniture best described as "substantial".

Of course, she also accepted that thinking there was always going to be a Hellfire Club and that she was always the White Queen was a sign that she had a staggering amount of ego, but Emma didn't have any particular difficulty in acknowledging that.

Shaw had changed, though, in this change between worlds. Not a great deal; still tall and dark and a certain value of handsome, but not the same face she was used to. The personality behind the eyes, though, didn't seem to have changed much.

Sebastian entered the room in a swirl of the dying summer's heat, shedding the jacket he'd worn to the Club and tossing it negligently over a chair. He moved immediately to the sideboard to pour himself a drink, foregoing ice to enjoy the burn of his scotch. "Emma, darling," he purred, turning to face her with a smile. What tension he'd carried into the room with him dissipated as he walked toward her. "Thank you for arriving so promptly, I'm well aware of the usual constraints on your time. I am, of course, most appreciative. Is there anything I can have brought in for you? Wine? Or have you called for it already?"

Emma's smile was exactly as polite and wary as it should be, no more, no less. "I didn't think this would be a long enough meeting to call for wine," she said. Her smile widened a little further. "Though, considering the lack of detail in your email, I'm not sure why I thought that it would be a short meeting." There was just enough of an upward lilt in her last word to make Emma's request for information clear.

"My Rook, Friedrich Von Roehm, is dead," Sebastian said, shrugging slightly even as he removed one of his cufflinks and then began rolling that sleeve up. "As of an hour ago."

Emma’s only immediate reaction to the news was a long, slow blink. “That seems... careless,” she said slowly, then raised an enquiring eyebrow. “Unless you find it convenient?”

"In fact," Sebastian said, "It is most inconvenient. He died in police custody. Apparently his image inducer malfunctioned on 5th. Those around him were apparently very... distressed by his ears and his teeth, to say nothing of the claws." Switching his glass to his other hand so he could remove his other cufflink, he found himself pacing and, turning back toward Emma, made himself stop. "The police arrived, whether they were called or simply happened to be passing by at the time I don't yet know."

After dropping his cufflinks to the table behind them and rolling up his second sleeve, Sebastian quirked a brow in Emma's general direction and said, "The details leading to his detainment beyond that are immaterial. Suffice it to say, he informed them of his name and his position within the Club, yet still found himself placed in general lockup. He called me for assistance and apprised me of the situation but, by the time I arrived to retrieve him, he'd been beaten to death in that cell by anti-mutant ruffians. While the police officers on duty did nothing."

It was a long time since Emma had been genuinely shocked beyond her capacity to control her reactions, but Sebastian's words did it. "They knew?!?" she asked, incredulous. "They knew he was the Black Rook and they arrested him? Killed him? They knew?"

"Yes." The word was barely more than a hiss as it left Sebastian's lips. "And so you see the crux of this issue, such as it is."

Emma sank back in her chair. "I'm going to need that wine," she murmured, sending out a telepathic call. The silence lay between her and Shaw, dense and thoughtful, until the butler had arrived with Emma's wine.

"This can't be allowed to stand," she said, after several sips. "They have forgotten what the Hellfire Club is. Thought its power less than their hatred of mutants." She stood and agitatedly paced a couple of steps, then caught herself and turned back to face the Black King. "Does the Black Court call upon the resources of the White Court in this matter?" she asked formally.

"It does," Sebastian replied. The Black Court would hold sufficiently until he decided to replace his Rook. They were not the sort to mourn out of base sentimentality.

"For this matter, I provide the resources of the White Court," Emma replied. "Their talents are, perhaps, better suited to find out what occurred. I presume the Black King wishes to determine the exact nature of the punishment for those who harmed us, however?"

"I would reserve that right, yes," Sebastian replied, equally formal. Then, a sardonic smile tipping up one corner of his lips, he raised his glass.

Emma caught her wine glass up from the side table, raised it in response. "To the Black Rook," she replied. "Who, despite it being terribly cliche, shall be avenged."