quill imagine me maintaining regular activity again lmao idk peeps, the urge to even look at bsky has been really low lately and i have no idea why. just caught up in writing and drawing. i'll try to dabble because i hate teasing people by being here for a day and then vanishing again 🫶

The coffee was accepted without a second thought. "Must we get into the semantics of normalcy already, Scott?"

Logan, dear, I fear the day you find happiness.

Good morning, darlings. As normal as ever, I see.

"As much as I enjoyed watching Herr Wagner's interesting take on the idea of making more mutants, I've never subscribed to it as a necessity for Krakoa," Emma responded vaguely, cutting through the salad some more. Even a Michelin chef could only take cheese and tomato so far on their own. >

She pursed her lips, pausing the conversation as the first course was served up. She paid little attention to the people serving it, eyes locked on him the entire time in a somewhat tense moment. When the servers left, Emma returned to form immediately. >

"Most men might try a bouquet of flowers before a school," she responded with a smirk. "Just because I'm a telepath, Scott, doesn't mean I will solve everything by simply taking a peek." Most things, sure, even just casual curiosity. But she dictated the how and when. >

Oh, he was being so gracious about it. It was honestly a little ... disgusting. In a hopeless romantic way. She was sipping her wine when he started, and stared over the top of her wine glass as he continued into his apology. She swallowed a long gulp and decided the label was acceptable. >

"Mhm," Emma vocalized, acknowledging what he was saying (and thinking loudly) toward her. She busied herself with the bread, though picked at nibbles even after it was dipped. It was more just busywork to take her focus for the moment. "And why did we stop being what we were?" >

"You do not go to a Michelin star restaurant to peruse the menu," Emma puffed, pushing the menu away from her on the table. "The chefs are artists. You let them paint and enjoy what they create. The tasting menu will be fine, with the recommended wine pairings, of course." >

It might surprise people to know that Emma didn't particular enjoy altering the minds of other people. A bit of glamour, sure, psychic illusions here and there, but to permanently alter them was something else entirely. It got too close to a line she reserved for Charles Xavier. >

"You're not still using Ms. Walters," Emma stated flatly. "I still don't understand how that woman hasn't been disbarred for the sheer number of conflict of interest cases she takes. I'll be getting my own lawyers on retainer for the school as soon as possible." >

Just as he had thought it through, she now ran her own numbers. In spite of having a strong poker face, for someone like him who knew her so well, it was obvious her mind was racing through outcomes while she sat in the passenger seat. >

Normally, when she was in a decent mood, Emma allowed Scott to surprise her. This idea, however, was obviously causing quite a fire for him. To openly admit he'd have to lean on her? It sparked her curiosity enough that'd she'd take his permission and poke inside of his head. >

quill back from my business trip and in my home province but busy today and prolly most the weekend so y'all mightn't see much of me until monday, sorry!

Well now she was curious. The thing he was announcing tomorrow? Whatever could it be? There was always the urge to pry at his brain. Scott knew how to keep her wanting more. Yet she remained flippant about it. "So you're saying we should no longer consider old men among our decision makers?" >

She watched the scenery pass by, mulling over his words until he pulled to the side. There was more to this than he was letting on. He was leading her with the questions. Emma turned to look at him slowly, a brow raised. "Someone else?" she hummed, taking the bait, letting him lead her now. >

"Who hasn't done a number on this place, present company included," Emma murmured, watching the grounds as they pulled along the lengthy drive. Rural Westchester. It was a stunning view. No matter where you turned. Hence the numerous estates all vying for the same thing. >

quill as some of you know, i'm away on a work trip right now. doing a lot of paired programming which involves multiple people looking at my screen, thus i haven't been as active here as i normally am. i'll be on when i'm back at the hotel and activity returns to normal on monday. 🫶

Part of the reason why Emma Frost was the way she was, was simply because it made other people follow suit. By being so unapologetically herself, others tended to try to fit in around her. It gave her automatic control over many situations. Even Scott was not immune to that influence. >

"A proper Michelin chef should cut their teeth on the European circuit. Too many are eager to prove themselves as soon as they earn their star, they don't realize they can still learn," says a woman who's never cooked a proper meal in her life. >

"Why any Michelin star chef would deign to open their restaurant in a place like /Dobb's Ferry/ when New York City is right there is beyond me. Certainly there is less competition but that's for a reason," Emma spoke, turning her nose up at The Cookery. >

The hand against the small of her back was surprisingly bold for what she assumed he'd be capable of that night. He was very ... reserved, guarded, unsure. Of course she'd be milking that for all that she could, so the touch did not go unnoticed. She raised a brow, nonetheless. >

"You love me in anything and nothing, Scott, don't be ashamed to admit it."

I did truly miss that outfit. My black leather, I mean, though Scott does cut a handsome figure in red.

And so she was there, because behind every great man was Emma Frost. The other men? Shadows of greatness at best. He needed a pillar, he needed a foundation to lean on has he tried bold and new things. Emma was consistent, sturdy and as stubborn as the diamond of her skin. >

"Of course I do," she said, dismissing his words. They needed to be said, she wanted to hear them. To not say them would be insulting her and that wouldn't do, even if she was always going to wave the compliment off. She finished with his tie and raised a brow at his sheepish admission. >

Emma always dressed up for the occasion. It was just her nature. So a dinner at a local Italian place--hardly fine dining but the closest one might find near the school--meant she was wearing an elaborate dress of a fine, satin-y material that flowed smoothly off of her form. >

Of course she was aware he was outside her door, waiting for the clock to strike at the exact moment she'd specified. Emma, however, was perfectly cordial. A final few touches to her make-up and her hand was upon her doorknob at 7:00 PM sharp, seconds after he knocked. >

Hmm.

Her back to him, Emma went about getting herself dressed for the day. "Until then, Mr. Summers," she said, a dismissive tone that wasn't enforced with any actions. No, instead she'd begin to disrobe, making a show of not caring whether he lingered or not.

"I never said you couldn't look sharp, Scott Summers. I simply said a sloppy windsor knot and a dress code aren't the way to do it. But you have me on hand now, if you wish to pursue that dream," she says, throwing him a catty grin. "I'm glad I'm back as well. Seven, not a moment later."

"That's why it's a pauper's farce. A tie doesn't make you look professional, you make the tie look professional. The plural 'you'. The singular 'you' was fighting a losing battle." She began to siphon through her wardrobe, picking out her outfit for the day. <"Italian. Seven.">

<"Alas, I wish that were a true statement. This world is extremely judgmental and fear runs rampant. It's simply better at hiding it under the veneer of acceptance and togetherness. But among us, you're welcome without judgement or fear.">

"As much as I adore your cooking, Scott, I'd rather not have that conversation in the school if we're going to take the time to schedule it in," she responded, closing the robe as she stood up, making her way to the room's wardrobe. Opening it, she'd already unpacked a plethora of outfits. >

<"I'll be the first to admit I'm only just refamiliarising myself with the school, so any arrangements made with Scott are with Scott at the moment. That being said, you're part of a genetic legacy that's quite close to this school and I don't see that being a problematic request.">

"Enjoying a little roleplay, Anthony? My statement is the same as I'd give credible press: the mansion is home to people of all walks these days, meant to be a home where others may not find it. If others cannot align with that or feel it makes them uncomfortable, so be it."

"Excellent. It's now occupying the body of a cat and has been named Midge."

"Illyana, darling, while I appreciate your enthusiasm, the 'eyeball' is our guest and I would ask you to treat it as such."

<"Force of habit, given your genetic duplicate's nature. Not a soul can eavesdrop now, darling, so be candid.">

"I'd be a terrible teacher if I did not have an ear for the school, let alone other mutants, dear."

"You're far too ignorant toward the media, Mr. Richards. The 'news' is as influenced as anyone else by the right means. I've kept a fair amount of mutant activity from the headlines as is. Entirely innocently, of course, simply to keep my people safe."

"It's been made aware that it will be held accountable for any killing done outside of self-defence or any attempts to burke my attentions as the one responsible for it. Otherwise, enjoy."

"Francis, dear, I understand violence is your usual solution to every problem. But I've worked hard to find a diplomatic end to this for all parties and will not abide by you wasting my work."

"Oh, Nadia, darling, you've been quite conveniently neutral about this whole thing, so I'm giving you an extracurricular. You'll be Midge's primary caretaker."

"Then compile them into a succinct email and send them along, dear."

"You have objections, Francis?"

And thus we have Midge the Cat, newest resident of the X-Mansion.