xp_logs | Amanda, Emma - Saturday morning.

Sometimes the direct approach is not always the best way. In the wake of her conversation with Remy and Manuel's increasing sense of isolation, Amanda goes to what she sees as the root of the problem and talks with a Ms Emma Grace Frost.

OOC: Thanks to Dex for socking Emma.

Manuel would probably kill her if he knew she was here and what she was about to do, but things had been bothering her for way too long, and she couldn't stand to see him suffering the way he was... Amanda stepped into the simply-yet-expensively decorated waiting room of Frost Enterprises from the elevator and squared her shoulders before approaching the front desk. She'd dressed a bit more nicely than she usually did for magic classes - Strange had noticed and complimented her on it, blushing furiously afterwards - but she figured she probably wouldn't have made it into the building in the torn t-shirt and scruffy jeans she usually wore. "Ah, 'm here t' see Emma Frost," she told the woman there, trying to hold onto the feeling that she was doing the right thing here.

"Are you sure about that?" The woman at the desk said over her glasses. For a brief second, Amanda thought she'd run into Dr Bartlett; the same red hair pulled back, the same no nonsense expression. Amanda swallowed nervously.

"'m from Xavier's. I need t' talk to her about something." The woman paused at the mention of Xaviers, and nodded, taking Amanda's name. She disappeared behind a set of doors, leaving Amanda out in the waiting room for several minutes. Enough time to make her seriously reconsider coming her.

"Ms Frost will see you now." The woman said, stepping back into the hallway, her tone obviously carrying that no matter what Amanda wanted, it was hardly worth a midday interruption.

Amanda walked past the woman and through the indicated doors, trying to regain her composure. Oh, she was so far out of her depth here she couldn't even see the shore. Still, this was important.

"Yes Senator, I'm very sure you will." Emma Frost said into the phone, barely acknowledging Amanda as she entered. The office was the same restrained wealth as the building; minimalist and efficient, like a highly polished Rolls-Royce engine. Amanda took a seat in front of the desk in response to Emma's mild wave, listening to the final stages of the phone call. "I'm afraid that is not acceptable. Need I remind you of your current financial state, Senator? Your Democratic challenger is surging in the polls. Why yes, darling. Of course it's a threat. I see. I'll send a lawyer around with the paperwork." Emma hung up, allowing herself a large feline smile before turning to Amanda and raising a perfect eyebrow. "Ms Sefton?"

"Thanks for seein' me," Amanda began, definitely unsure about all of this now. Still, Manuel was using his powers against people again, and it was because of this woman; at the thought, she felt that surge of anger again. "I wanted t' talk t' you. 'Bout Manuel," she said, without preamble.

"Indeed?" Emma said pleasently, leaning back in her white leather chair. "I certainly hope this doesn't involve a proposal, because that sort of blessing I believe still requires his father. And a cardinal, but that's hardly a hurdle these days, darling." Emma Frost's amusement was obvious.

"What? Um, no, nothin' like that..." Talking to Emma was always unsettling - it was one of the reasons she avoided it as much as possible, even after Mexico. "'S about his trainin', an' you pushin' him t' learn t' project. I think..." She swallowed, then took the plunge. "I think yer doin' the wrong thing, puttin' that kind of pressure on him. He's gunna do somethin' really stupid 'cause of it."

"Indeed." Emma said. The smile didn't leave her lips. "And have you spoken this over with Manuel, or is this your own initative, darling?

"I tried, but he wouldn't really listen," Amanda admitted, irritated by the mock-affectionate term. "But this ain't about him an' me, it's about you an' him. He feels like he owes you everythin', an' you know that. So yer usin' it t' make him do stuff he shouldn't, at least not yet. He ain't ready."

"Oh, my dear." Emma laughed out loud. "How many times did you practice this on your way over? Ten, twenty times? Running the scene in your head; the plucky young princess in white facing down the evil queen? It's terribly romantic, I'll grant you. Foolish and futile, but romantic."

Amanda stiffened slightly, and glared at the older woman. "I don't give a fuck for how romantic it is, 'm tellin' you, ease off. He's gunna end up in the bloody Box again 'cause he's tryin' t' live up t' yer expectations," she retorted.

"Absolutely, Amanda." Emma said. "I'll contact him right now and let him know that, at your behest, his duties are now revoked." Emma picked up the phone and held it out to her. "Or would you rather make that announcement to him?"

"Wait a minute... yer sackin' him?" Oh, this wasn't good - Manuel wouldn't forgive her if he lost his place in the Hellfire Club. "You can't do that, it's all he's got left..." she quavered, losing quite a lot of that self-righteousness.

"And when he hears that you cost him his position, exactly how long and how passionately will he hate you, Amanda?" Emma Frost put down the phone, her smile gone. "I'm sorry to have laughed at you, dear, but you really did not think this through, did you? You saw your boyfriend in a situation and immediately assumed that direct confrontation was the only response. Perhaps too much time around Dayspring."

Amanda bit her lip, digging her nails into her palms to restrain herself from doing something just as stupid as she feared Manuel would do. If she hadn't already. "Is that the choice, is it?" she asked, struggling to keep her voice calm. "He learns t' project, or you dump him like a hot potato? Even tho' it could mean he starts messin' with people t' suit himself again?"

"Yes." Emma said simply, and sighed. "Amanda, while I dislike to be the one to inform you on the hard truths, it appears I must take Wisdom's place and do so. Has Manuel told you his ambition?"

"T' be rich an' powerful," Amanda said with a shrug. "T' make his family name mean somethin' again. The usual bollocks."

"And what do you think that entails?" Emma said. "Manuel is a de la Rocha, and while that means little to you and less to me, that is everything to him. Wealth is another term for power, and Manuel lusts after that more than his teenaged conquests. When I gave him the opportunity to serve as my White Knight, he mentioned with great conviction that one day, he'd surpass his father's ambitions and sit as the White King of the Hellfire Club. Do you have the slightest idea what that requires?"

"From what I've seen, it takes bein' an arsehole an' stompin' on people just 'cause you can," Amanda replied a little waspishly. "Same thing that anyone who wants power that badly does."

"Exactly. It means controlling the smartest, richest and most powerful men with your will and mind alone. And you should consider your tones, Amanda, since that's what your boyfriend desires more than anything else in the world." Emma said. "Have you bothered to consider what that is going to require from him?"

Biting back her initial reply, Amanda actually considered this. With a sinking feeling, she answered slowly: "Bein' stronger than them?"

"And smarter. And more ruthless." Emma sighed, for once allowing a view past her normal persona. "That kind of calculation is not something you can simply put in the closet with your jacket as you return home, Amanda. You cannot dominate the most dangerous group of individuals in the world and then switch it off like a lamp. It doesn't just end with attitude either, you know."

"So, what? I've got t' face up t' the hard truth me boyfriend's gunna have t' be an arsehole? That he's gunna end up bein' the same kind of person as Rack?" Amanda tried to be defiant, but the tone came out miserable instead. And scared. "I can't just sit back an' watch that happen."

"Is it really your choice, dear? I'm a convenient target, but you seem to miss the point. If Manuel wants to fulfil his ambition, then he must become this way. For a very simple reason." Emma's tone hardened suddenly, and a jolt of fear traveled the length of Amanda's spine. "Anything less and he will fail. And in this, failure means he will die. So, I will push him as far as I can and beyond. I will do everything possible to break him, because that is the only way to keep him alive. Manuel has made his decision on this course. If you can convince him otherwise, I wish you the best. He will likely live a much longer life as simply your mate; perhaps even as a noble X-Man. Can you make him make that choice?"

She couldn't. Part of her knew that if she made him choose, between her and his ambition, she'd lose out. Love wouldn't be enough. "No," she whispered, looking down at her hands, which were still clenched, but this time so she wouldn't start chewing on her nails. Realising there was nothing she could do here, she stood. "I should go," she said, clamping down hard on her shields, using everything Strange had taught her so neither Emma nor Manuel would have any clue of what was going on in her head. "Thanks for yer time."

"Amanda," Emma said, stopping her before she could reach the door. "You must understand. Our choices always close as many doors as they open. Your need for magic, Manuel's need for power. Nothing comes without sacrifice, and as hard as it seems, its better to learn that sooner than later. It took the deaths of twelve students for me. I hope your lesson requires less." It was the closest thing to compassion Frost could offer the girl.

Amanda paused, hand on the doorknob, at Emma's words. "I understand you," she said quietly, before looking at the older woman, her face expressionless. "'M sorry t' have bothered you," she said, before letting herself out and closing the door behind her.