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.

quill i want everyone to know that i love cats, i'm rubbing the belly of one of mine as i type this because she loves sleepy belly rubs ;;

"Cats are far from innocent but I understand your objection and dismiss it."

"Consider yourself promoted to teacher's aide for the time being, dear. I need you to fetch a cat. Make it adorable. No kittens, though."

"Ah, Kurt Wagner would be a fine serv--caretaker, actually. Thank you, dear, always a help."

Remy, darling, begone.

@oneeyedwonder.bsky.social "Scott, dear, does the mansion have any cats on hand? Perhaps wild on the grounds?"

I agree, Roberto is a terrible designation. Personally I was leaning more toward Ida, but if Midge is what you prefer, you're the guest and my hospitality is not so poor that I'd rename my company.

Good. Understand that you are no longer contained but I will not abide by my trust being broken. You are under my care and I keep my leashes taut and short. Other than that, rule as you please.

And one final word of warning: my body's physiology takes on the density of diamond as a reflex toward danger. Should you think yourself clever to try and infect me in any capacity while I'm unaware, my eyelids alone will crush you before you can find a single synapse or nerve.

"I'm insulted you would ever think I would endanger the children in my care, Mr. Richards. But I'm glad you're willing to listen to reason. And ... foolishness. Roberto is a dreadful name for this visitor."

Then let me make this abundantly clear: you will conquer and rule and have every whim managed. You can scratch and bite to your heart's content. But if you kill for any reason other than self-defence I am fully capable of reducing your sentience to that of whatever primordial sludge you formed from.

"Mhm. Because containment has always been a foolproof solution. I can tell you the Coca-Cola recipe and all twenty iterations it's gone through since conception, if you need reassurance about your strategies."

"Can you?"

quill shout to when cassandra nova brought the imperial guard down onto the x-mansion and all hope was lost so emma frost blanked the mind of the shapeshifting alien Stuff, got cassandra nova to take its body, and locked her in there with the mental functions of a toddler. guys, she got this.

And never once be reprimanded for doing so. Within reason, of course.