Madin and Hope

[xp_madin]

Hope meets Madin to discuss some of the money taken from Rahda's estate.



"Please come in." Hope rose from her red velvet upholstered chair, smoothing down her charcoal grey pencil skirt as she did so. "Thank you for taking the time to see me. I hope settling back in has been as smooth as possible?"

Madin was in the pair of workout leggings - the ones with the hole in the knee, paired with work boots and a thrifted sweater with neon pink patches on one arm where they'd darned it, their hair slightly grown out now and unbrushed, sticking out in five directions. They couldn't have looked more out of place if they'd tried. "Uhm, yeah. Hi. Sure. It's been. You know. Fine, I guess."

"I am relieved to hear that. Please, have a seat." Hope gestured at the chair across from her before retaking her own seat. "I have a proposal I wish to discuss with you."

Madin sat almost absently picking at the hole in the knee of their leggings. "Um. Okay."

"A number of weeks ago you made a number of remarks about the lack of a certain type of services at the community center. Or frankly, in District X as a whole..." Hope delicately crossed her ankles, folded her hands, but then leaned forward just a hint with interest. "Tell me, do you still feel that way?"

"Yeah. Sure. Maybe." Madin shrugged, looking disinterested.

Hope regarded them with curious eyes. "I am afraid I am in need of a more concrete answer." She quickly responded. "Not a maybe or a perhaps."

"I don't even know what you want me to do exactly", Madin said.

"It's not a matter of doing." Hope tilted her head a little. "At least, not yet. But if I remember correctly you seem to be of the opinion that the District lacks activities that are solely by and for mutants. Or am I mistaken?"

"Yeah, nah. I mean, you're right but..." Madin picked at their fingernail. "What's that got to do with me?"

Leaning down, Hope pulled a small leather folder from her tote. "I have an offer for you... a chance so to speak." She pushed the leather folder across the table. "We would like to give you the chance to remedy that lack of activities... or more specifically, the means to remedy this issue."

Madin took the folder, opened it and dropped it like it was radioactive. "What the actual fuck?"

"You are getting the chance to remedy what you find lacking... or at least the means for it." Hope patiently explained again. "Figure out what you wish to do and make it happen so to speak."

"Are you insane?" They shook their head and stared. "I don't know how to do that. I don't know how to do any of that. Like, what the actual fuck."

"There are people here who are capable of providing counsel on how to accomplish any idea's you might have." Hope pointed out. "They would probably do so if you asked... though I would not recommend turning to Warren."

"No. I don't know how to do that. I can't. You don't understand."

"Alright." Hope aquisited, raising her hand in a calming gesture. "Could you explain it to me?"

"What's to understand?" Madin asked. The folder was still on the floor, cheque fallen out the side and visible. "I don't know how to do that stuff. With the Underground, we did mutual aid but you do understand that was mostly a front to recruit people to the Brotherhood, right? I don't know how to do it with money and stuff."

"That is something you can learn." Hope pointed out kindly, but firmly as she bent down to gather up the check and folder. "As long as you have a good idea to start from."

"I don't know how to learn!"

Hope looked them over, coolly assessing them though not without compassion. "Very well then. What if I keep this in trust for you for now? This money belonged to Radha Dastoor and her brother. You are entitled to a percentage of that for all the work you put in at Haven in my opinion."

The cheque might as well have been glowing neon. Madin couldn't look away from it. "You're fucking crazy," they said finally. "What have I ever done that makes you think I should have that much money? I." They scraped their hands through their hair and finally looked away. "Hope, the only things I've ever, ever done were join the Brotherhood and join a murder cult. I don't even know how to -- how to get money out of a cheque. Do I need to go to a bank? How do I get a bank account? I'm not even legal here. I. Fuck! And then once someone shows me how to you know. Do the cheque." They scooched their chair back a bit. "I don't know how to do this stuff. You don't understand. No. I can't take it. I'll just fuck it all up. I'll lose it or hire more terrorists or something. I don't know!" They shuffled the chair closer to the door. "Seriously, I don't want it."

Alright... it was probably for the best that she did not tell them about the smaller amount of money that had been set aside for their personal use, like had been done for all the other members of Haven. She did not blink though: "You have earned this money... see it as wages or as a compensation. Like I said, I will put it away safely until you need it." A savings account with decent interest or some low-risk stocks would be easy enough to find.

If Madin set the cheque on fire would this horrible situation end? Or the room. They could set the parlour on fire. Curtains were, in their experience, distressingly flammable. And so were bookcases. "Sure." They shuffled the chair closer to the door. "Sure."

Hope rose as well, the folder with the check held firmly in her hand. "Very well. Just be sure to let me know when you do require the funds. We will make suitable arrangements then."

"Okay. Sure." Madin stood and began heading for the door. "I'll do that."