Players:
Summary: Emma and Selene face off, but in a way neither expected.
Date: July 30, 2010.
Log Title: What Price Victory?
Rating: PG-13
Xavier Mansion - Emergency Living Quarters
In case of emergency there is a large room that is supplied with beds, food, water, and enough emergency supplies for twenty-five people for two weeks. Comfort is not the function of this room, it is survival. This room is unused unless for emergencies.
It's been approximately 2 weeks since James and Selene were separated and placed in their rightful headspaces. In that time, the Selene's body has been parked inside the emergency living quarters, making neither sound nor movement. And if not for the lack of decay, she could have been mistaken for dead. But all that ended a couple hours ago. On her feet and demanding to see Emma, Selene quickly turned the ELQ into a shambles—the result of a rather typical super-villain freak out. Now in lockdown, the room is cast in darkness, the silhouette of the Black Queen barely visible as she sits on one of the few intact cots waiting for her polar opposite to appear.
Darkness is broken by the sudden appearance of light, silhouetting the frame of one Emma Frost as she stands in the doorway, most of her features barely visible, and her blonde hair haloed from the transition. Reaching over, she flips on the lightswitch, turning on a dim overhead, before approaching the rather grumpy-seeming form of Selene, "I cannot say there is not considerable irony in this, but for the moment I think I shall set aside the much deserved amusement." Taking a few steps forwards and closer to the other woman, there's a bit of a smile on her face, "You WILL of course clean up the mess you've made?"
Looking up through a few misplaced hairs of her own, Selene glowers at Emma through a still-youthful facade. Face cast is stone, she replies, "Oh, I plan too;" the words 'starting with you' missing from her almost threat. There's a pause, her body finally moving enough to take another breath so she can add a single question, her voice betraying the anger she's obviously feeling about something, "Where are they? I want them back or so help me I will burn this school down with such fury that the devil himself will applaud."
Emma holds her hands wide in a 'what can you do gesture' and turns her head slightly as her lips purse in thought, "Where is… what? Selene, dear… I cannot explain an upper hand I did not claim nor willingly have traipsed about in your mind… I've only ensured you left no traps, snares, or tethers to the young man who's body you usurped for your own. So…" She stops and claps her hands together, only barely containing the edge of delight, "Why don't you begin again and explain why you've taken it upon yourself to redecorate… so… energetically."
Standing, eyes leveled on Emma’s, Selene raises a hand towards the corner of the room and, with a twist of her wrist, telekinetically pulls the last remaining 'seen' camera from it's perch with enough force to cause it to bounce to a halt at headmistresses' feet. "I am not in the mood for games, Emma… I want my collection back NOW!" The punctuation is said with enough force, that Selene's hair moves in a non-existent breeze, the unsettled strands moving almost like snakes. As Emma no doubts knows, Selene has collected quite a number of complete lifetimes in memories from those who have lost their souls to her hunger. Memories that have always been quite valuable to her as a short-cut to gaining certain knowledge, experience, and more.
Watching the camera piece skitter to her feet, Emma reaches down and picks it up, looking the wrecked device over a couple moments before settling it to one side on whatever might be available, "I cannot give you what I do not have, Selene. Nor… could I restore that which you have lost. They were never yours in the first place… and it seems that fate has seen fit to finally take back from you. Fitting." A few more steps forward and she stops in front of the Black Queen, "Now stop throwing a temper tantrum… elsewise I -WILL- see fit to place you in a cell, and see whether or not a lack of power will cause you to wither to your proper age."
Selene's face turns even more unkind than it already was. The next sound that escapes her lips is a roar as unearthly as the one it emanates from. Face distorted beyond recognition, the 'thing' it belong to reaches towards Emma, features reduced to bare claws, broken teeth, and sharp fangs. Bespotted with growing shadows, 'it' stares at Emma for a moment before turning away. There's a growl, a long sigh, and the flexing of a fist that retakes a more human look. A final sigh, and then a single, "Fine;" her back still to Emma. "
Never one to flinch in the sign of danger, except when truly taken by surprise, the outburst earns a half-step back and a shift of weight into a better fighting position. But then is subsides and Emma moves around to stand next to Selene without looking at her, "Pardon my utter lack of pity for your diminished state, but there's still the issue of you haunting this place, and still being a threat to the children under my care. There is still the fact that you have, by my estimation, touched and harmed the lives of almost every student here by your actions. Casting all this blame aside. What… pray tell… do you intend to do?"
Selene's face easily lost 20 years, now appearing more 40ish than the 20's she was pulling off before her 3-second freak out; a true sign of just how hard the reality of her situation has hit her. With pupils the color of hot coals, her eyes dart wildly under fallen hair as her mind work frantically to account for approximately 17,000 years worth of stolen lifetimes. Her magic? Gone. Rachel's date's lifetime? Gone. Those people she truly appreciated, the ones she didn't; natives in the Amazon; friends, romans, countrymen; whole civilizations; her teacher…her tribe…her… There's a gasp, "By Hera…" An for just a moment, Selene looks at Emma with a true trace of emotion, lost emotion, "I…don't know."
"And there…" Emma murmurs to herself, "But for the Grace of God, go I…" Reaching into her pocket, she takes out a white handkerchief, complete with a blue-white EF stencilled on it, and passes it to the woman, before she moves to sit down next to her, a slight frown on her face, "If it is any… ANY… consideration upon my part… I do not believe you are fit to walk outside these walls at the moment… the circles you travel in would drop upon you like jackals, and the user would become the used. And while there is an inestimably large part of me that would watch over Dom Perrignon while it happened… this place seems to damnably infect you with Charles' sense of morality. I do not trust you, Selene… but I will not ignore your pain…" Those last words said with a look that seems like she'd eaten something disagreeable.
When Selene finally does sit down next to her long-time foe, it's with little more than the sound of her clothing settling on the cot. Wild eyes in shock, she shakes her head, "No-no-nonono..this can't be…they're gone. They're all gone…how? To where?" There's a sharp head turn to Emma, "They're all gone. Lost civilizations. Languages…people. Things that can't be replaced. I need them back…" She starts reaching towards Frost hands splayed as if they might be going for her neck, "They're dead…they can't be replaced…all that…knowledge…" Her hands retract and snap shut with a force that causes her knuckles to crack. "Y….you've…got…" Something's building…and then it happens, she sits up straight, a deep frown appearing on her face, "Please. Help me." 10 more years disappear.
The questing hands earn a frown from Emma, followed by a complete stoneface to all the mutterings. When the plaintive cry for help comes, the White Queen answers by smacking Selene hard across the face, enough muscle behind it to snap the woman's head to one side, and perhaps even bowl her a bit, "Get ahold of yourself, Selene. I would sooner gut myself than feel any sense of pity in your regard, but I will not sit here and watch you fall to pieces. It's embarrassing… for both of us. Your dependancy on stolen lives and civilizations was as much a crutch as anything else. Muster your damnable will and put yourself back together. You've gone fifty, for god's sake. And I've ill-temper enough without needing the guilt of striking an octogenarian if this keeps up."
Snapping her head back from the direction it was just sent, Selene turns as stone faced as her foe, a animal-like growl emitting from somewhere deep inside, "Do not make me regret asking you for help more than I already am, Emma Frost…" The sentence ends before it turns into an empty threat. There's a exhale through teeth framed by canines that look longer than they should be; and with that, Selene has herself back under control, "I'd sooner slit my own wrists than repeat what I just said. But considering that such an action has no effect on me, it would only be for show. So, instead I will ask, 'What Now?'"
"Yes…" Emma mutters to herself, "That IS the question, now isn't it." Standing up, she walks slowly away from the woman, but not with any body language or intention of leaving, her hands behind her in thought, "Here is the proverbial rub, dear Selene… I can only trust you to be yourself. Any other act is suspect. Helping you is problematic… in that is brings you equilibrium, but creates the inevitably droll 'wolf in the fold' scenario." One hand goes out, "I help you…" The other hand goes out, "You betray me…" And then they clap together, "And thus the cycle begins again." Turning around to face the woman, she looks devlishly beautific at the moment, "The Hellfire Club you knew is gone… and those in power know well enough not to let you connive your way back into their good graces… and not by my hand, or word." Then her hands fall to her side, "So fine. My help. Yes."
Then Emma mutters perhaps a touch more bitterly and not quite to herself, "And now I see why Logan finds it so much easier to just claw everything to pieces… what a poison pill this is."
Selene merely smiles at the bit about the HFC. She knows de Costa well, and being told anything other than what she has already made up in her mind would be an exercise in futility. Eyes never leaving the other woman's form, the ‘wolf in the fold' listens, eyes narrowing as Emma makes the comment about helping, then Logan. "After all, it's what this school does, is it not?" There's a bit of smugness there, one thin eyebrow raising over the other that disappears after a sigh, "I want to be here no more than you want me here. But yet, here we are. So, shall we skip to the negotiations stage, or pick this up at a later date?"
Emma continues to grumble and when the smugness comes up, she glares back at Selene, and for a moment there's enough of the Old White Queen there that she might consider doing something. But that momentary flash of pure indignation settles before she exhales hard, "I think we shall leave this until a later time. For one… I feel if we continue this discussion, we will devolve to form and will be walked in upon in an embarrassingly violent repose. For the other… If you are to remain, this must be discussed with Summers." Crossing her arms under her chest, Emma's eyes roll and look up to one side as her jawline strains and she says, "So… until such time as it is fit for you to leave…" Biting the word hard, "You are… welcome… to stay…"
As much as it's a victory to hear Emma accept her arch nemesis as possible neighbor, Selene doesn't show a single sign that she considers it a win in her favor. After all, the price she paid was somewhat dearer than Emma has yet to realize. "Fine…" she says with a wave of her hand, "I will be on my best behavior." For now. Sitting still on the cot, the woman watches Emma for a long moment, and allows her lip to twitch, "Thank you."
"A proper room will be arranged for you, and a stipend for essentials will be provided. It may not be quite the designer chic you've become accustomed to… but some proper budgetting should give you some decent attire." The Thank you does make Emma's shoulder stiffen a touch, and her reply is silence… biting back any one of a hundred possible insults to throw in Selene's face, and just walks to the door, and out into the hallway…
Selene watches Emma leave, unconcerned about her future living arrangements. She came from a time when her people lived in caves and rude shelters; a room hardly qualifies as either and will be much more welcome than the basement she has been a prisoner of the last few years. Letting out a final sigh, she raises a hand to telekinetically shut the door, before turning off the light in the same fashion, leaving her form to bask in the darkness…or sulk. Whatever the case may be.
