(no subject)
3/22/2007
Emma flicks a fingernail of soapy water from her tub of gently rolling water toward Percy, and sighs. << ...of course he was there. I swear, they cannot keep their noses out of any mess. What happened? >> She crosses her legs under the table and glances aside at the Rook.
Percy rolls a brief look across at the manicurist with the bare sliver of a smile, and then wrinkles his nose. << Well, the reports I received were a little garbled, like I said before, but he tried to take out the girl and ended up passed out on the ground. We think he knew her personally. >> He turns his gaze down back to his hands in his matching tub, and then looks back up at Emma again. << Lots of collateral damage, of course; the coffee shop went down, with one of our pawn prospects in it. She's recovering in the hospital now. I think Adel paid her a visit. >>
<< Are mutants more attracted to coffeshops than the average person? >> Emma wonders waspishly. The manicurist rolls his chair over to her tub and switches it off, then directing her to lift her hands with a gentle touch. The tub is pulled away by an assistant and a clean, heated, white towel is laid down in it's stead. "Percy thinks highly of you," she comments idly across the table as she sets one elbow down, and wraps the other hand in front of it. Her suspended hand it guided lower for inspection. << Is the prospect at a point of cultivation, or is it too early to flash member benefits? >>
The manicurist, a slender Latino with soft features and lush eyelashes, smiles. "I do try, Ms. Frost," he says, with the cultivated false modesty of an artiste.
Percy twitches with the expulsion of a faint snort and rolls his eyes, perhaps at the idea of a higher mutant coffee shop population, although it may be safe to say that Eduardo assumed it was directed at him, since he looks annoyed and puts the full weight of his attention upon Emma's digits. << I think it is too soon. I have plans to offer her full scholarship at university, once she is actually in a place to apply, but we've not even extended the hand of friendship yet -- I don't think we can pull her in. >> Regret, for unfortuitous timing. << As for young Mr. Drake, none of the reports I have received over the time he was under surveillance have given me any clue to what he was doing sniffing around our doors. He never so much as ventured near them again after the party. >>
Emma nods and leans forward to see what has Eduardo's attention. Before she can determine what it is though, he is reaching for the manicurist's tool kit and selecting an instrument to begin his work. << You think he knew her personally? Another Xavierite, possibly? >>
<< Possibly. I have Harper looking into the police sketches off local news. But in any event, I wouldn't be surprised if all three of them were Xavier's ducklings. >> Percy waits for his turn with due patience, although he hums a few notes under his breath that draw a flicker of amused irritation from the man: bring him a truly high-end client, act like a brat while they sit? Pure Percival. << Which begs the question as to what was going on there, but honestly I don't care that much about some kid with control issues. It's bad PR, but once the repairs are finished and a month or so has passed, it will be nothing more than one more incident of mutants wrecking Manhattan. >>
Eduardo cleans and shapes the nails, then starts on the other hand. << Mhm. Perhaps. It isn't our place to teach rogue mutants with control issues. Just to use them after...>>
With the flash of teeth that is a sharp smile, Percy dips his head. << Just so. I am more concerned with whether they are looking in our direction again. Are they watching us because of Illyana, or is there more to it than that? I had a report from the doormen and from one rather startled girl in the kitchen that suggest you supped with a-- >> His memory draws from two printed pages, one of which was considerably more professional than the other. << -- blue man, >> is the average of the two. << Last night? >>
The sharp look she gives him is apparently for the humming. At least to watching eyes. Her narrowed eyes lighten into amusement and she twists her lips as she looks away again. << If they are watching us, it is not for any easily accessible reason known to one of their teachers. Wagner. He /is/ very blue. Perhaps the fur accounts for his dreadful taste in clothing. That or the tail. >> A memory flashes back of his flirting tail, colored by the uncharacteristic impulse to touch it. << I don't know what the motivation is behind the increased scrutiny. >>
Percy cocks an eyebrow at Emma, amusement gleaming awake in golden eyes. << You can't get anything out of your fuzzy blue friend? >> If the speculation behind the question is rated more than PG and somewhat obnoxiously leerish, one must consider the source.
Emma answers his challenge with a knowing look of her own. << If there is anything to be got, >> she fairly hums in assurance. << He may prove to be more valuable as a continued source than a one time brain scour, so I'm treading delicately. You may have forgotten I /do/ know how to be delicate. >>
Percy cannot but smirk at that. Just a little. << On that score at least there is nothing wrong with my memory. Perhaps you shall be very good friends! It must be a very lonely life, being fuzzy and blue. >> He starts humming again, this time with more intent, despite the relative likelihood that his immediate audience will have any idea. This time Eduardo pauses in his work to give him a sharper look. "You are a /Muppet/?"
"You have no idea. If you stick your hand up his backside, you can make him say anything," Emma informs Eduardo solemnly, eyes wide and innocent.
Eduardo goes very still and meets Emma's gaze with a deer-in-headlights sort of stare.
Percy merely sputters into laughter. He kicks at Emma's near foot with one shiny Italian shoe with no regard at all for whatever beleaguerments her ankle may have suffered in recent days.
Emma's ankle is perfectly fine. At least it /was/. Her beatific expression hardens as she jerks her attention away from Eduardo with an exclaimed, "/Ow/." She then very maturely kicks back. Affectionately, of course.
Eduardo looks vaguely aghast and slightly fluttery.
"Ow!" Percy protests right back, but he does not escalate the battle with further kicking. "You kick harder than me," he grumbles.
"Well, you do other things harder than me, so we're even," Emma retorts, lifting her brow at Eduardo and jiggling her hand. Helo? << What /were/ we talking about? >>
Percy retraces the lines of his thought with a moment's bafflement as Eduardo hastily gets back to work. << Xavier's, >> he supplies after a moment. << Your potential information source. >>
<< Mm. Yes. We'll see how that pans out, >> she replies airily, her nose twitching and shoulders hunching at the sensation of the buffing wedge across her nails.
<< All right. >> Percy sets aside Xavier's and moves along down his mental agenda. << I encountered Jason last night in the Village; Magneto has encountered Creed elsewhere in the city. The Brotherhood appears to be sniffing around after the pyrokinetic, believing one of their own to have gone renegade and caused the fires. >>
<< The Xavierites and the Brotherhood? Both laying claim to the-- augh. Though... >> She looks sharply aside and offers her other hand up to the buffing board. << How many others did they hemorrhage when Erik left, I wonder. >>
<< They still have Jason! >> Percy makes a face.
<< I'm not certain if that is benefit to them or not, >> she says with echoing distaste.
<< They have him in the dampener. >> Percy presents this piece of information with a side of deep ambivalence.
Reluctant sympathy curdles the antipathy. << Then he is of even less benefit to them. Stupid child. Did he have any other useful information to part with?>>
<< I am afraid that he got a little more from me than the reverse, >> Percy admits with some reluctance of his own. He glances along the lines of his arms with rolled up sleeves to study his hands, the tub set aside and the warm towel laid out. << He was always close to Sabitha Melcross. >>
<< What about Sabitha? >> Emma's hands are set down and another warm towel spread across them while Eduardo moves back to Percy's station.
<< He didn't know she was dead, >> Percy elaborates with a twitchy sort of shrug.
Emma doesn't respond clearly, though the link thins as she withdraws slightly from the old, ill-healed wound. Oh.
<< It wasn't a very pleasant conversation, >> Percy adds thoughtfully. Whatever thought might come next is interrupted by the buzz of his cell phone, laid out at the station beside him. He jerks upright and glances at it, but doesn't answer the phone because after all there his answering hand is otherwise occupied. A moment later, it beeps with a text message and he picks it up with his off hand to look at it. He snarls, "--Fucking /hell/."
Emma straightens, the force of whatever emotion that prompts the curse buffeting the tenuous contact of their minds. "Percy?"
"Expect a call from me later," Percy tells her. He yanks his hands away from Eduardo with a sharp shake of his head. "Later," he tells him in a growl, blocking protest with a waggle of his phone. << It seems I have a very stupid Pawn to reprimand. >> "I have to take care of this /now/."
Emma nods blankly, dissolving the tethered contact with a brief kiss of goodwill. Nothing more is said; Percy is proving a capable enough Rook. Before he's even gone, her hands are lifted imperiously for Eduardo's now undivided attention.