icecoldfrost | Emma's Manhattan -- The Hellfire Club -- Thursday Evening (Reply)

The young scions of New York were out in force tonight, laughing as they tumbled past the formidable entrance of the Hellfire Club. Each one handing over their invitations to the stern-faced bouncers without even acknowledging the men as they passed under the banner reading "Welcome, Future Leaders of Tomorrow."

Emma had presented their invitations with an air of bored entitlement, not even glancing at the bouncers looming menacingly just behind the footmen.

"Do as you will, but harm none," the footman said after looking over the invitation carefully, and they were swept past the majestic doors. Inside the Hellfire Club was a splendid display of wealth and privilege. Sparkling chandeliers, a live orchestra on one balcony, and people mingling about, eating, drinking, seeing and being seen.

Emma almost gleefully grabbed a glass of champagne off a waiter's tray, looking around the party with a predatory look. "So far, so good," she said. "Let's have some fun."

Jonothon Starsmore	It wasn't that Jonothon was hell-bent on remaining ridiculously antisocial, really. Except for how he probably was. Yes, he was well aware that hanging around the edges of a large social gathering like this one did somewhat defeat the purpose of crashing what was possibly the most elite party ever held for people their age in the world, but. But. These 'leaders of tomorrow' were what he'd come to consider as leaders of today, and he was more than content to linger around the edges, keeping from drawing more attention to himself. People-watching. ... And possibly steadfastly avoiding that appetizer tray that was circling the room. Quiet.
Donald Pierce	Jonothon wasn't the only one looking to keep from drawing attention. There were two blond men, impeccably dressed, half-hidden by two pillars against the wall. An excellent spot to obstinately watch the party, and yet be able to speak without the general rabble overhearing them. "I can't create something from nothing, Buckman," the first man said. "If you want something to stand sentinel against the rising mutant population, I need more funding for my work."
Jono	Well. There was a sentence that Jono hadn't been expecting to overhear. His eyes widened slightly, and he found himself backing a little closer to the wall, suddenly seeming very interested in something going on across the room, while keeping his attention quite thoroughly on the conversation that was going on not far away at all. Casually, he made his way toward the pillars, trying to remain as close to 'right behind' them as possible. There was something about the phrase, 'stand sentinel' that made the hair on the back of his neck prickle. Especially when used in the same sentence as 'rising mutant population.'
Edward 'Ned' Buckman, The White King of the Hellfire Club	"I thought you were using your own cybernetics as a model for some of the prototypes, Pierce. Are you saying you can't deliver?" The other man appeared to be casually surveying the room. "The other members of the Council of the Chosen are not nearly as forgiving as I am, if you cannot follow through on your promises. I understand delays in the name of perfection, Donald, I do, and I'd rather have a prefect product than something that still has to have the kinks worked out." "But either we get our Sentinels so that the Hellfire Club can secure itself against this threat, or you may find yourself facing our less benevolent side."
Jono	Sentinels. They were talking about building Sentinels. Something in Jono's blood ran chill, and for an instant, he was actually grateful that he couldn't vocalize his idea of what he was witnessing here. If he'd been able to start, they'd end up escorting him out of here, kicking and screaming and just generally not getting anything accomplished at all. He hesitated for a moment more before, in a voice for Emma and Emma alone, wherever she was in the room, he spoke up. //Trouble, luv.//
Emma Grace Frost, Party Crasher	<<Define 'trouble', darling,>> Emma replied from half-way across the room, where she was chatting up a young gentleman with an uncanny resemblance to one of her classmates. Sometimes, Emma enjoyed amusing herself at the expense of the multiverse. <<Can it wait for the next ten minutes? I think I'm about to get asked out on a date.>>
Jono	Jono sent Emma something that seemed more or less like a shoddy echo of an exasperated sigh. Far be it for him to interrupt a budding romance with some rich bloke all for the sake of the safety and well-being of the mutant population at large. //Slip yer phone number into his pocket, promise him a good snogging later, and then tell me, do, just how much yer value bein' able to live yer life under th' radar without bein' systematically exterminated by rather large robots for bein' a representative of the 'growing mutant menace.'//
Emma	<<What are you going on about?>> Emma's mental tone was annoyed, even as she gave her companion a winning smile and leaned in seductively to slip her calling card into the interior pocket of his dinner jacket. <<If the 'mutant menace' was growing, there'd be more of us in New York than just me and Hank. Most people don't even know we exist.>>
Jono	//Apparently, th'Hellfire Club knows we exist.// A pause. //And give it a few years, luv, and mutants will be th'big story in th'news. Mostly while paired off with phrases like 'threat,' and 'terrorists.' They'll give us a pet-name.// Jono hated the word 'mutie.' A lot. //Mostly, they'll just want us dead.//
Emma	<<Of course they know, they know everything. It's the Hellfire Club, Jonothon. That's the entire idea.>> Seriously. Being British was no excuse for being surprised about their wealth of knowledge; she knew there was a branch in London. <<My family wants me dead too, that doesn't mean they're going to actually get up the balls to do it.>> Still, there were murmured regrets and a brush of lips against her companion's cheek, and Emma was snagging another glass of champagne and slowly -- randomly -- making her way towards Jono without having any apparent destination. <<Now, why are we fretting about robots, and who's causing the trouble?>> <<And more importantly, what do you expect me to do about it?>>
Donald Pierce	Unfortunately for Jono, the conversation wasn't pausing while he was chatting up Emma. "You know that Lang's in charge of Project Armageddon and the Mark III," Pierce was saying. "So don't talk to me about delays; he thinks I'm just another assistant. If the Council of the Chosen has a problem with the timeline, they need to take it up with him." "But if I'm to continue working on developing a separate prototype under the direct control of the Hellfire Club, I need more capital. I can't keep sneaking about under Lang's nose forever."
Jono	What did Jono expect her to do about it? He only had a vague idea as to what the headmistress of the Massachusetts Academy was capable of. He had no idea what to expect of a far younger, less experienced Emma. And it wasn't as though the Hellfire Club would make dealing with them easy, at all. //One of these men, Pierce? Is sayin' he's an assistant to th'program. He's tryin' to shake down the other bloke, Buckman, for results. Looks like they're tryin' to keep someone, name of Lang, in th'dark about some plan or other t'do with his program. One of 'em is askin' fer money.// He was getting frustrated now, eyebrows furrowed, looking around the room to see if he could spot the others. //Yer don't understand what th'Sentinels are capable of, Emma. We're talking about giant machines made for th'sole purpose of killing mutants. All mutants. Indiscriminately. They make up names for this sort of thing. The government gets in on it.// He shouldn't interfere. Shouldn't poke at the timeline. Shouldn't. He knew better. //They'll come after us, Emma. All of us. It's bloody difficult to scratch out a comfortable life fer yerself when yer dead.//
Emma	<<How many times do I have to tell you people that I am not your Emma?>> she complained, stopping to select a canape from a tray. <<Your world is not mine.>> Still, she was almost to him, and subtly trying to get a glance at the men Jono was so concerned about.
NAME	//You might not be. But Sentinels are a bloody convincing enough parallel to have me just a touch concerned.// He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to keep from looking too much like a very inexplicably displeased boy who would now like everything to light on fire and go away, please. //If yer not convinced, go right on ahead, poke around in my mind and you tell me if the Sentinels are something to be worried about.// He hadn't had the express pleasure of ever meeting one in person, no. But between watching the news, going to school under Sean and the other Emma, and listening to Jubilee go on about them on her list of things that were done so much better while she was an X-Man...
Emma	Emma accepted the invitation, lightly skimming along the outer layers of his mind. <<Well, shit.>>
Ned Buckman	"Then it's yours," Buckman was saying, holding out his hand for Pierce to shake. "Come up to my office after the children have gone back to their nannies for the night. I've got a stash of diamonds that came in through one of my cartels, worth at least three billion. Will that be enough?"
Jono	//Yes, Emma. Shit.// He glanced toward the pole that he was still standing behind, raising an eyebrow slightly. //Three million in diamonds sounds to me like it would go a long way towards creating giant purple robots of destruction, at that.//
Emma	<<Too far.>> Emma considered the men through narrowed eyes. <<Unfortunately, I'm guessing finding the lab and blowing it is too obvious, and we don't have the time for that, anyway...>> <<How are you at breaking and entering?>>
Jono	//I wouldn't be an absolute stranger to it,// Jonothon replied, glancing her way with an eyebrow quirked upward. //I wasn't exactly a perfect angel, back in London. Yer not suggesting we steal three billion in diamonds?//
Emma	<<Not at all. I'm suggesting we acquire three billion in diamonds in a non-traditional manner,>> she replied absently, her gaze lingering on Buckman. <<You can't report something as stolen if you've gotten it illegally, can you? Therefore, we are not stealing.>>
Jono	... This was one of those moments where he found himself seriously in envy of the way Emma's mind worked. //Well. Then I would have to say that I would be completely up for acquiring some diamonds in a non-traditional manner.// Jono edged away from the pillar that he was standing behind, lest he seem too much like he was sticking around to eavesdrop. //For a worthy cause, and all.//
Emma	<<Mmmm.>> Emma's eyes were unfocused, as she gazed at Buckman. <<Third floor, corner office. The diamonds are in a safe, hidden behind the painting of Central Park behind his desk.>> "Let's regroup, shall we, darling?" She blinked a few times before beaming at him brightly and offering her arm. "I'm famished, and I'd love to see what our friends have been up to."
Jono	Jono gave her a light nod, taking the accepted arm and turning to head back into the thick of the crowd. //Let's.// They had to rally the troops, after all.
Emma	Emma sent out a telepathic nudge to Jack and George, telling them to come meet her and Jono. It was time to make some plans.

Selene Gallo	Selene had felt it all evening. A tugging, pulling at the edges of her awareness. There was another telepath in the room, she could taste it. But whomever it was kept blinking in and out, using their powers in tiny bursts that made it near-impossible to pinpoint. And there was more than one, which was even more intriguing. But the one that was the most fascinating was the gift that felt like a girl, the one that flickered like a firefly with her quick and precise uses of her gift. Selene was intent on finding out which of these spoiled brats was actually playing with power. If she could find them, charm them, become a mentor... A good protégé was too delicious to pass up, especially if it gave her an edge into getting into the Council of the Chosen. So when she felt that power flare again, she was waiting. And when she felt that talent uncoil and focus itself upon...Buckman. The little bitch was ambitious, in going after the White King. Selene had to give her that. But such a transgression could not go unmarked, and so Selene was making her way over to the one person she knew would be interested in this. "Shaw."
Sebastien Shaw	"Selene." Sebastien Shaw inclined his head a fraction to the dark-haired woman. "What can I do for you this evening?"
Selene	"I think it's what I can do for you, Mr. Shaw," she answered, giving him a half-smile in return. "I have information that I think you would want to have."
Shaw	"What makes you think that you have anything I do not already know?" he asked, smirking at her slightly. "And even if you did, dear lady, what makes you think it would be of interest to me?"
Selene	"There are mutants here, Shaw," Selene answered, getting right to the point. "Somewhere in these scions of privilege, we have mutant children, and at least two of them are active psis." "And one of them has set her sights on dear Ned Buckman, and is at this very moment poking around in his head."
Shaw	Shaw raised his eyebrows just slightly, careful not to show too much surprise. "How very precocious," he murmured. "Children these days are so very ambitious, it could almost warm my heart." "Which one? Could you get a lock on her?"
Selene	Selene shook her head. "I know her mental touch, but not her face. Every time I've tried to get a glimpse of her, there's been a crowd in the way." But right then Emma used her powers to call to George and Jack, and Selene's head whipped around. "There, that one. The blonde on the arm of the tall boy in black."
Shaw	Shaw motioned to a member of the staff, murmuring for a moment before the man nodded and stepped back, heading off to carry out whatever order he had been given. He returned a few moments later, holding out a few invitations for them to inspect. Sebastien took the papers, looking the top one over. "Miss Emma Frost," he said, passing it over to Selene. "One of Winston Frost's children, I suppose. How very odd...he'd picked the eldest girl as his heir, last I heard. The brunette."
Selene	"Perhaps the younger Miss Frost disagreed with her father's choice, and decided to do something about it," Selene replied, a wicked grin curving around her lips. "They're planning something, Sebastien, something Buckman isn't going to like. I can taste it."
Shaw	"Then we shall wait to watch this unfold. After all, it would be rude to eject an invited guest and her associates before any actual wrongdoing," he answered. "Ned has been evasive of late, and both Tessa and Lourdes are worried. Perhaps a little bit of comeuppance for him might remind him whom his supporters are." "I think this evening just became interesting."