ArchivedLogs:Lessons
| Lessons | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 2013-08-09 ' |
| Location
<NYC> White Queen's Office - Hellfire Clubhouse | |
Despite Emma's love for the color white, she has chosen to decorate her office in rich wood paneling and black and white to keep with the main entry hall's theme. Her desk is wide and her chair black leather. The chairs opposite her desk are upholstered in black and white check. Her couch, by far her favorite place in the room, is a long, white chaise lounge, adorned with beautiful scrolled wood and high backs and arms where available. A single black, wing backed chair sits with a couple small circular end tables in accompaniment. The best part of the room are the closets and cabinetry hidden in the paneling around her desk, providing the event coordinator the ability to coordinate to each event. Emma enters her office with only a few moments to spare before her next appointment is due to start, her arms loaded with a couple different swatch books, carpet and fabric samples available for her last appointment's perusal. She gently kicks the door closed behind her and proceeds then to kick off her shoes, leaving them in the general vicinity of the chaise. Stocking clad feet pad over to her desk, settling down the books with a little huff and pulling her tablet off the top of the stack to check her messages. Then, her hair pins are pulled out, allowing blonde locks to trickle slowly down from their previous style. She slips out of her jacket and rests it on the back of her chair before settling down to stare intently at the little glowing screen. When Hive enters, Emma looks something like a college student, cramming for a final and utterly absorbed in ot. Her assistant lets him in with barely a pause, her words quiet and pleasant, offering to order his lunch along Emma's if he has an idea of what he wants. Once inside, the door closes again and locks from the outside, the handle of the deadbolt turning. Emma, however, continues to stare. Hive /usually/ looks like a college student, kind of scruffy, kind of slouchy, kind of /inattentive/ to anything resembling fashion. Today he mostly just looks like a laborer; heavy workboots, heavy jeans, a thin blue denim shirt layered over a soft grey v-neck tee. His mind is buzzing; it's /muted/ but his entrance feels more like a /number/ of people than only just the one; the other voices are submerged, held carefully at /bay/ behind his own but still a definite presence underneath the general surly-grump that is /Hive/. "Hey." He's not really looking at Emma, at first, a glassy unfocused quality to his eyes, but they refocus shortly. The other-voices grow quieter still, his own consciousness /collecting/ itself into something more present. "Thought I'd give you an update on progress. Check in to see if there's any last touches you need adjusted -- it'll be done altogether before the month is out." That comes audibly, though there's very /little/ of Hive's mind genuinely dedicated at this moment to architectural pursuits. << Sorry for the unexpected -- >> This just trails off, for a moment. Hive's words come not in his usual sledgehammer of mindvoice but in a quieter one, a soft echo of many voices together. << We have a problem. Were hoping maybe you could help. >> Emma turns her focus slowly away from what she is reading to focus on Hive's form when he starts speaking, her brows climbing her forehead as she does. She opens a draw while looking him over and pulls out her glasses, slipping them on to complete the approachable college co-ed look. She smiles pleasantly as he begins discussing the work down the hall, extending herself psionically to brush up against his very busy mind gently. "I am glad to hear it. It's a little sooner than my estimation, so it'll give me a chance to really shake up the decorators and finish carpenters and get their asses in gear under threat of replacement, if they are not ready to begin on the new schedule." There's a hint of professional glee in her tone as she considers, leaning back in her chair to rest her shoulders. "Do you have time to sit and eat, giving me a full detailed report, or were you in a hurry to get back?" << How big of a problem, dearest Hydra? How would you like me to help? >> Emma's mind contines to wrap around the surface of Hive's mind, observing, but not mingling quite yet. << You seem to be boasting quite a crowd in there right now. >> 'Eat' registers oddly in Hive's mind, a strange disconnected suggestion that it takes him a while to process as having any relation to his physical body. "Oh! Yeah, um. Got time. Though I'd really just take a hit of /caffeine/ over lunch." He moves across the room to take a seat in the wingback chair, settling down with elbows resting on his knees. << Problem like mental damage from a telepath that we're not equipped to undo. I could /try/ but I might lobotomize the kid just as soon as fix him. >> The crowd in Hive's mind is -- distant. Echoes of the minds of rather militaristic guards here and there, one here on duty, another there at home on his day off. "I hadn't projected it done till September but I've got a good crew, here. And the flooring got shipped a week earlier than scheduled." << What kind of damage? There is some types of memory modification that cannot be remedied, particularly in cases where the information has been destroyed, instead of just blocked. >> Emma picks up her phone and calls out the lunch order to her assistant before rising and moving over to the chaise, draping herself out on the surface, her legs stretched out across the length of the cushions while one arm props on the arm of the chair. << I'd have to take a look before I could promise anything, >> the idea that is is easier to break rather than heal mulling around in the periphery of her thoughts. << The more interesting aspect is that you're going up against a telepath. Tell me, is this person still a problem, or have you already taken care of that? >> "I hope you like salmon. I could probably switch yours to something more substantial or more turf, if you're not a fan of fish, but you should speak up sooner rather than later on that." Her fingers start to work their way through her hair, loosening the hair that is still trying to cling to the style she wore that morning. "I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised at the quick schedule. People that work with the Hellfire Club know the benefit of early delivery. Sometimes, I wish I could tell if they are lying up front in order to /appear/ to have a quick turn around when they are on their typical delivery schedule." "Fish is good." This comes with a quiet touch of distance, in Hive's mind -- memory colored with the slightly faded slightly /rosier/ view of childhood. The salt-tang of ocean, the sounds of voices haggling over the choicest selections of the day's catch; rows and rows of silvery fish set out on ice. For a moment, a smile touches Hive's lips, but it's quick to fade. "-- I think it's probably safe to assume a /lot/ of them are handing an overestimate up front. Given how incredibly angry customers get if you're two minutes late, it's usually best to bet conservative even if you're not /aiming/ for dishonest. Though," he admits wryly, "I'm sure a lot of them aim." << Not lost memories. Just -- imprinted /compulsions/. Need some mental blocks torn out. Though there is another person who -- has actually specifically /requested/ some memories deleted, so she can't give away information if he comes poking around at her. >> Inwardly, Hive is grimacing, though outwardly he is just as slouchy-lax as ever. << He's still out there. Not even a hundred percent sure he'll find me but -- I'll cross that if I get to it. Mostly trying to deal with what he left /behind/ in this kid's brain, first. Taking care of him personally might be -- tricky. His connections are unfortunate. >> "Oh, certainly, I understand the notion of a safe estimate. I just sometimes have the sneaky suspicion, especially when things move too quickly, that there's a little more than safety built in." Emma smiles, her left leg shifting over her right as she gets comfortable. Her mind keeps track of the progress of their lunch in order to sculpt the perfect appearance of productivity when they are interrupted. << Have you ever gone up against a telepath before? >> she pursues the matter gently, curious. << Particularly one well versed in mental blocks and compulsions? >> There is a definite distaste in the back of her mind for such a thing, and yet almost a thirst for the challenge of it. << There's a reason why I tend to go out of my way to play nice with other telepaths. >> Hive being case in point. << I've -- actually gone up against /this/ telepath before, >> Hive admits, << but I didn't know at the time he had a connection to anyone I knew. I'm /stronger/ than him. By a lot. But that doesn't help me at all. >> He's a little slow to admit this, a little reluctant, but he does so anyway with a faintly uncomfortable mental fidget. << Not in cases like this. I'm like a sledgehammer. I don't know how to be a scalpel. >> Another brief pause; his admission is slightly less uncomfortable when he continues: << But I want to learn. >> "It's pretty rampant in construction," he finally remembers to say. "It's best when they overquote you by a ton and then try to charge you /extra/ for delivering early. When really 'early' was the reasonable estimate all along." << Would it be easier to flirt? >> Emma asks after Hive's distraction ends, << the food is on its way here, but we do need to keep talking about something. Physical interaction may make the silences less noticeable. >> "Oh, well, I should probably just keep my suspicions to myself and continue with the status quo. The club does appreciate it when I manage to come in early and under budget, so as long as they don't let me down, the system works." She smiles and runs a finger against the side of her the collar on her silk eyelet blouse, looking a little distracted herself. << It's not about power, when it comes to people like that. They can chip away at your reputation, your friend group, and even your employment slowly and steadily in ways you can't always see coming. >> Her mind ticks through a few flashes of her college life, how she barely managed to keep her degrees in tact, but still ended up on the streets, but in an instant, those thoughts are gone, tucked away under one of her very solid shield. << But... Yes. I can show you how to do some of it and we can work on that. Of course, I'll actually need to push you a bit and see what you're capable of right now... >> She looks thoughtful and then sits up, pulling a pad of paper from the nearby table into her lap. A moment later, the door opens and Emma's assistant arrives with a cart carrying their lunch. She gives a brief smile, then turns and exits once more, locking the door behind her. "Oh, good. I'm starving. Please, don't be shy. Let's dig in." Emma rises and moves the cart between the wing backed chair and the chaise, sitting close so she can eat from it. << Oh, if you'd ever seen me try and flirt, >> Hive answers with an amused hint of self-deprecation, << you wouldn't be asking that question. >> "We'll be early, for sure," he says aloud. "Not particularly under budget, sadly. Pretty much toeing the line, there. There's this sort of -- triangle of tradeoff with all this kind of thing. You can be quick and cheap, but not good; you can be good and cheap, but not quick, or you can be quick and good, but not cheap. Hitting all /three/ is like the day angels come down from heaven and sing praises to your work." He brightens, as the food arrives; in him this is nothing /exuberant/, just a faint straightening, a faint uptick of smile. << Pushing, I can handle. It'd just be useful to -- we spent a really long time honing >> though the undercurrent of feeling here doesn't quite say 'honing' so much as it says '/being/ honed', << -- this in a lot of really /powerful/ ways but getting down to the details is -- I need work. >> He leans forward to the cart, drawing in a hungry breath of the scents rising form the food. "Thanks. Everything looks great. As -- always." << Think I might need to have you look at them first and /then/ see what I can learn, though. I don't know how long or quick it might be before he comes back poking. >> << Yes, yes, definitely. I'm sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself a little. >> Emma apologizes quietly. << I will look at this kid you rescued and the other person, without a doubt. I wouldn't want you to practice on them in a time of pressure anyway. Subtle acts need a certain level of calmness and relaxation and most of all confidence - and if you're worried about these people or the person coming after you, then you're likely not going to be in the right frame of mind. >> Along with salmon flank, grilled on a cedar plank and covered with fragrant, spiced honey, there are new potatoes and an arugula salad, each seasoned and prepared to be delicious. On the second tray of the cart, there's a small assortment of desserts for later. Emma takes her plate and leans back against the chaise again. "Hey, it's no problem. I enjoy your company and and the opportunity to have a lunch where I don't have to worry about a presentation I'm making." She begins carefully cutting small sections of fish flake and potato, stacking them on her fork for mixed bites. << I could teach you to flirt too, you know. >> She offers, << It'll help provide us with excuses to meet in the future if people believe I'm sleeping with an up and coming architect. We wouldn't have to have sex, but some minor touching and increased comfort with each others' bodies would help for some of the hidden cameras around here. >> << Thanks. >> Hive's voice tends towards /gruff/ by default but the sentiment there is genuine. << You're right. It's definitely not -- >> For a moment, his thoughts edge distracted, some of /his/ presence melting away to other minds. A guard in a military facility, a man in a cell. He pulls himself back with an effort. << Always easy to be in the right mindset. When there's too much to worry about. >> He slides his own plate near himself, too. A little mechanical at first in his motions as he eats, like it takes him a bit to remember /how/ to operate utensils, but it doesn't take long for this to settle into more natural movement. "Working straight through lunch is just fucking tiring. All day without a break. Could put the shop-talk on hold till after dessert and I could give you a quick tour myself, show you where things are at." << Flirt lessons. Do you give those much? It seems like it'd be hard to teach -- I guess maybe I'm wrong there, though. Maybe people can be learned just like anything else. >> << Flirting is a dance, Hydra, darling, and anyone can learn to dance. >> Emma muses as she chews. "I appreciate it. I will also appreciate the tour. It's good to have a visual to go along with the status report. It helps me describe what's going on to my superiors if they don't particularly get the specifics." << Though, flirting starts subtle. At first, it's eye contact, and a pleasant smile, being unafraid to look at someone with a warm thought in your mind. >> She places a smaller bite of food in her mouth, closing her lips around it and drawing it out slowly. << You can go for the youthful, giddy flirtation where you're constantly looking away and then back again, showing that you're unafraid in repetition, or you can do things slowly, with a little more attention and consideration, focusing on the face and the eyes, moving on to the mouth, both to judge the other person's reaction and perhaps indicate, visually, that you're considering what it might be like to kiss them. >> She goes back to eating, switching to the salad when her fish is half gone. "So, Hive, what do you talk about when you're not talking shop?"
This fades into quiet, as he eats, working his way through salad and on to potatoes and fish with evident enjoyment. << A dance. I guess if I can learn to fight, I can learn to dance. All just -- knowing people, isn't it? >> << Yes, all about knowing people - and we have a bit of an advantage in that. Not that I'm advocating unethical seduction, but it does help to know what is and isn't hindering an actual pursuit. >> Emma smiles sweetly, chewing delicately on a small morsel as she continues to explain the method she employs, while setting up some time to help her companion out with his problems. | |
