xp_logs | Paradise Lost: Make A H(e)aven Of Hell (Reply)

The difficulty with having formal meeting rooms in a Club known primarily for its excessive hedonism and its power was capturing the essence of both. The interior designer Emma now remembered having hired all those years ago had done an exceptionally good job with the brief. The tables were oak, the chairs were leather, the book shelves were high and filled with green leather-bound volumes, the technology discreetly hidden behind oak overlays and push-button retrieval. But here were the points in the table where ropes could be anchored, binding wrist and ankle, the chairs hinted (only hinted) at thrones and racks, a more than casual perusal of the bookshelves revealed the authors named (de Sade, Sacher-Masoch, Reage, all of the classics) and some of the things hidden behind oak overlays and retrieved at will were not, as such, technology.

Hedonism, however, was the last thing on Emma's mind. Diamond fingernail tapped pensively on her lower lip as she looked at Shaw. "So the Black Rook's killers are tucked neatly away in jail. Yay for us," she said, dryly. "That doesn't change the fact that he shouldn't be dead in the first place. They knew he was the Black Rook. Being a mutant shouldn't be anywhere near enough excuse to over-ride that. They should have been far too afraid to touch him, let alone murder him."

"Yes," Sebastian agreed. "His family has decided a vacation in the Mediterranean is just the thing to get over this most unfortunate... accident." His distaste was more than apparent. "And his eldest child is only seven, anyway, so practically useless." Waving his hand as he settled more comfortably in his chair across from the White Queen, he quirked an eyebrow. "Emma, darling, they do not fear what we as very rich and socially powerful people might do to them. Not more than they fear what our mutant abilities might do, at least. The New Years' catastrophe has ensured that. Circumstances change, it's inevitable. We must decide now what we intend to do to ensure something of this sort does not happen again."

"How about disbanding?" Adrienne suggested sweetly. She'd made it blatantly clear through this whole process that she was only interested in helping her sister, and the club itself could go right to the fires of hell it seemed so fond of.

Doug's eyes narrowed slightly. Adrienne's feelings on the courts were fairly well known, but now was not the best time to show division. But that also included not chastising each other in front of Shaw and Leland, so he said nothing to that. "If people do not fear or respect us now, then perhaps they need to learn to again," he said quietly, but with steel in it.

"Sebastian," Emma said softly, acknowledging Doug's words with a nod. "We took over the Club for a reason; a place for mutants to wield real power behind the scenes. We have been distracted from that purpose for some time by our competing ambitions. I don't think we can afford to remain at odds upon in that regard." She held up a hand to forestall Shaw's protest. "I know that you have been supportive in some of the White Court's past endeavours to divert some of the more egregious anti-mutant sentiment. Or at least, not sought to hinder them." She curled her hand back in her lap. "I do not ask that the Black Court support all that the White Court does. But where mutants are in danger, I would seek an agreement between the Courts to consider a greater level of cooperation." She smiled, a small flicker of lips. "We need to ensure that the Club's enmity is not something that can be considered so lightly as it has been."

Completely ignoring Frost the Lesser, Sebastian had given a slight amount of attention to the White Knight's turns of phrase, but it was clear the only person from the White Court that he felt worth dealing with was Emma. His expression did not change as he considered her proposition. "Where your Court's enterprises do not directly interfere with my Court's interests and where they work toward eliminating threats to mutantkind... I see no reason for them not to cooperate. What say you, Black Bishop?"

Harry had been observing the conversation silently, his face betraying no emotion as he looked around. In truth, nothing was less appealing than working with the other Court, but... "There aren't that many of us left," he ceded, examining the pathetically small group. "It may be in our best interests."

Julian cleared his throat, just loud enough to get everyone's attention. He shifted the tumbler he had in his left hand to his right and shoved his newly freed hand into the pocket of a newly acquired, painfully expensive suit. "Not many of, <i>you</i> left- which is to say...." He grinned and took a few steps forward, out of the shadows and into the light as he let the thinly veiled insult stand there. The young scion was quite sure that he wouldn't be punished for his cheek, especially since it applied to both sides of the court.

Taking a sip, he went on, "If I recall all that history that Miss Frost...not you Miss Frost, your sister," he nodded politely to his former teacher. "All that history that she taught me, there used to be other titles within the court- but they were scrapped in some power-struggle or another." With a shrug he set the glass down on the expensive looking table, painfully aware of the condensation ring it would leave.

He ignored the stares of his superiors and pressed on defiantly (trying to keep the waver out of his voice by not looking Shaw in the eyes), "You have a seemingly plentiful number of new, up-and-coming talent- of which I'd count myself- who, if asked, would be assets to your...to our cause."

"Ah, yes," Sebastian murmured, eyes flicking from the glass to the young man in his new suit. Such disrespect. "The hangers-on. And to which well-lauded position do you aspire, young Keller? Your Queen lacks a Bishop and a Rook." The smile that slid over his lips was positively wolfish. "While I, myself, lack a Knight and a Rook." The faux speculation on his face dropped a moment later as he dismissed Julian entirely and the Black King cast his eyes toward Emma, tone bored as he said, "Your underlings' gall aside, there are lesser titles tucked away in the Club's annals. Does the White Court move to make them available once more?"

Emma leaned forwards towards Shaw. "No Black Queen. No White King. Keep to our agreement on that - two Courts, one ruler each as counterweight and balance. But for now, the shadows and darkness are the best places for mutants to work and the Hellfire Club can grant them the cloak of respectability. And access to power. We are not what we once were, but our status is not terminal. I would make all ranks available again and seek to recruit."

"I have no desire to tip the balance we have, thus far, maintained," Sebastian said. He also had no use for a Black Queen's machinations. Unless they led her to be a useful sacrifice at some point, but that ran counter to what they were establishing now. Pity. "We are agreed, one ruler for each Court and active recruitment. To be clear, the titles we seek to fill are Inner, Outer, and Junior Courts for both Black and White, yes? Herald, Squire, Sentry. Chatelaine, Witness, Page."

A sharpness had entered the Black King's eyes, evident only in their slight narrowing. It was depressingly obvious that Emma had asked the inconsequentials to attend this meeting for a reason other than moral support her sister's part and someone pretty to look at on Keller's. Mind shielded, thoughts quiet, Sebastian waited for the White Queen's next move.

Emma leaned back, surveyed Shaw coolly. "Those titles I would re-open to Black and White Courts. We are what we are, Sebastian, and what we are - what we should be - is dangerous." She smiled suddenly. "I would consider young mutants learning to survive the Courts would be ready for a - what did he call it again - oh yes, a world that hates and fears us." She raised an ironic eyebrow. "Unlike your Rook."

His smile full of jagged edges, Sebastian murmured, "Indeed. It is a delicate precipice upon which we walk, finding those who are competent yet pleasing to look at, is it not? Perhaps I erred on the side of business sense rather than common sense with Friedrich. Who do you intend to bring forward for the available positions within your Court?"

~Adrienne,~ sent Emma. ~I know you aren't best pleased with being a member of the White Court, but I need you. Shaw and I have too long a history. I don't distrust him the way you do. Can you loan me your distrust for now? Be the White Rook? It need not be for long if you do not wish, but I need you now.~

~I won't be the White Rook,~ Adrienne told her automatically, the phrasing being very important to her. ~But I'll be your White Rook.~ Emma was right. She wasn't 'best pleased' with being in the Court anymore. But she would do anything for her sister. Especially when it came to keeping her safe. ~If you need me, you've got me,~ she told her sister affectionately. ~Always.~

"I would name Adrienne Frost as White Rook," Emma replied to Shaw. "Is this acceptable to the Black Court?"

Sebastian allowed silence to fall after Emma's question, one eyebrow very slowly rising. "The Black Court acquiesces," he murmured, tone indicating his sincerest skepticism as to the appropriateness of the appointment. It seemed the chips, as the saying went, were falling - but precisely where he'd expected them to. "And it would caution against such hasty distribution of the White Court's remaining titles." Security was one thing. Such imbalance something else entirely. "Best not to squander them, after all, on those who would not appreciate them."

~I had thought perhaps to name you White Bishop,~ Emma sent to Julian. ~But I suspect that has just become a serious tactical error. A tactical error in the sense of Sebastian would be trying to kill you in a week, if I did that. Would you be willing to be White Squire? Security and diplomacy - and off Shaw's radar until he balances the Courts somewhat?~

Julian picked his glass off the table and took a few steps away from it, mulling things over as he left the warmth of the inner circle. There was resentment at her offer, but finally, ~I serve at the pleasure of my queen~ he sent back, giving his glass a small raise towards her before he drained it.

~We are King and Queen,~ replied Emma, her mental tone somewhere between acerbic and sympathetic, ~and all of you are pieces in our long game.~ The acerbic tone vanished, leaving only warmth. ~But as White Queen, I seek always to protect my assets. Don't be surprised if Sebastian seeks to tip the balance by recruiting you to the Black Court, but be wary. He has made quite the habit of losing his pieces.~ She did the telepathic equivalent of rolling her eyes. ~At the rate he is going, I would give his next Rook about a week.~ "I would name Julian Keller White Squire," Emma said.

Doug hadn't missed the signs of telepathic byplay between Emma and Julian. But he figured if he needed to know, Emma would clue him in later. Move and countermove. "Does the Black Court have any candidates in mind for Knight or Rook?" he asked Shaw with a raised eyebrow, to fill the silence.

"Several," Sebastian replied laconically, waiting for Emma to finish her telepathic conversations so that they could move things along. The White Court's maneuvering had begun to bore him. It was no fun when his predictions about the White Queen's moves proved correct.

"But none you'd care to discuss today," said Emma, briskly. "Or you'd provide their names. I think we're done here, Sebastian. We shall leave you and your Bishop to discuss the Black Court's recruitment drive. Let me know if you require any references." Her bow, as she rose from her chair, decidedly leaned just slightly towards the mocking, without quite tipping far enough to offend.

Emma was the last to turn to the door to leave, the rest of the White Court preceding her. She had nearly reached it when Sebastian, who had glanced at his phone, said casually. "Some news, White Queen, that may be of interest."

Emma turned back and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"It seems there's been a riot amongst the prisoners at Sing Sing," Sebastian said, raising a sardonic brow in return. "In a truly astonishing turn of events, a number of inmates were killed. Coincidentally, it just so happens they were the men who precipitated the murder of the Black Rook."

Emma's eyebrow climbed higher. "Astonishing," she echoed dryly. "And the police officers?"

"Oh, they're in Green Haven under very tight security. They weren't involved in the riots at all."

"So they're not dead?" Emma asked.

"No, they're not dead," Sebastian said. As Emma prepared to turn back toward the door, he gave a small smile and added softly, "Yet."

Emma inclined her head in acknowledgement, then followed the others out of the door.