2/14 - Adel
2/14/2008
Logfile from Emma.
=NYC= White Queen's Suite - Second Floor - Hellfire Clubhouse
Emma pushes a stack of paperwork away from her and leans back in her chair, eyeing the cluttered desktop with disfavor. "Useless. Absolute /rubbish/. What an /idiot/. How on earth does he expect us to /work/ with this information. We might as well be pulling our information off /google/." She tucks her hair behind her ears, then plants her hand son her desk and rises in a flurry of well-dressed agitation. Tailored slacks in dove gray give the illusion of replacing the height lost to the abandonment of her shoes. The high waist cradles a slime wait (slim waist) and hold her white silk blouse in place.
Part of that desktop clutter, Adel perches on the edge of the desk. He inclines at an angle, body one long line tipped back in a lean across the mess. His hands are braced at the desk's edge, fingers drumming in a thoughtful staccato. "Not sure the cost to benefit ratio is working out in our favor in this," he says mildly.
"It is too late to go hunting up someone else to replace him. Anyone left at this stage is surely even more incompetent than he," Emma says with a dismissive gesture. She wraps an arm around her middle, crinkling the silk against her chest, and props her elbow on it. She presses a finger against her lips and stops to glare at the wall across the room. Poor wall.
"Hire an electrician to do a little rewiring?" Adel asks in the most metaphorical manner, smile beatific.
Emma turns to shoot him a droll look over her shoulder. "Is /your/ license up to date?" she replies in kind. Without the beatific smile.
"Cost / benefit," Adel answers. "I don't honestly know if I can get the results we'd want with any sort of reasonable effort put into it." He straightens, easing off the edge of her desk to stroll in her direction. "Nor could Bahir. It's all about the costs, and the benefits. We can't really afford the sort puppeting that we've done in the past with the increased scrutiny. Locked in committee or not, people are far more aware of the idea of telepathic legislation."
"Agreed. So we have to make do with more... traditional means." She looks disgruntled by the idea even as she turns to pace toward his end of the desk. She unfolds her arms and lifts her hands to comb through her hair.
Adel's eyes drift toward Emma's cleavage as she talks of traditional means of manipulation. It is somewhat inevitable. He wrenches his gaze up with a brilliant smile, and comes up to stand behind her and lazily begin to braid her hair. "Bribery, blackmail, extortion?"
"We do have the leverage." She leans back, but pulls her hair out of his hands and over her shoulder with a quick flick of her wrist.
Adel not take the hint. A little like a monkey, he reaches out to groom her again: hair, play! "Is it enough leverage? Do you think we'll get what we want?"
"We have so far. It is enough. As long as he has something to lose. What we can /get/ from him is another story." Emma scowls and increases the lean, putting her hair closer to him, but at a somewhat awkward angle.
Adel ceases his attempts to fiddle with her hair, then, and settles for the loose wrap of his arm around her (slime wait) waist. "Putting pressure on someone to no end is a bad idea. If aren't getting what we need from him, we need alternatives."
"There are no alternatives at the moment," Emma says waspishly. "Perhaps he just needs suitable training in what we expect..."
"There are always alternatives." Adel smiles faintly, gaze somewhat distant. "We just have to think of them."
"Sounds like just the sort of thing you are perfectly suited too." She leans her head back to look up at him with strained mischief.
"That's me. Ideas man." Adel turns his head to drop a kiss on Emma's cheek with the tip of her head, and then shifts to move away. He puts a few steps between them and looks down over the mess on her desk, searching for inspiration. "How badly do we need this?"
"Badly. Despite the reprieve Xavier bought us, the telepathy laws /will/ surface again. Along with whatever else they decide to try and regulate in the meantime. That illegal operation is going to be swept under the rug because we don't have enough voices. Mutant politics have been floundering, to their detriment..."Emma stops and inhales deeply.
"Badly, then." Adel gives Emma a sly smile, the glimmer of an Idea in his gaze. "So we should throw everything we have at it, then?"
Emma narrows her eyes and turns to face him fully. She knows that look. "What are you thinking?" she demands.
Adel frames Emma with his hands. "You certainly have charisma."
Emma blinks. "What?"
"Charisma, charm, a certain poise that works well in front of the cameras. There are obvious problems, but not, I think, insurmountable ones with the right handling." Adel changes the angle of his frame, making Emma a part of the landscape. "You are much more difficult to handle, though," he teases.
Emma lifts a brow and frowns. "Are you seriously suggesting what it seems like you are suggesting?" she finally asks, unconsciously (or not) striking a more photogenic pose.
"It is worth considering." Adel's hands fall to his sides, fingers looped in his pockets, and he leans against her desk again. "As long as we are going to stick a finger in the pie, why not stick our finger?" He pauses a moment and then says, "I'm not entirely certain about that metaphor, but you get the idea."
"I am a business woman, not a politician." Not that there is much difference between the two, especially when it comes to bed and backroom dealings. She props her hands on her hips and purses her lips.
Adel gives Emma an arched-brow glance, silent call out on those very points her meta indicated.
Emma crinkles her nose. "We'll think about it." Ie, he will!
Grinning in response, Adel pushes a step toward the door. "Okay. We will think about it." He offers her his arm, elbow hooked in her direction. "Come along, Valentine."
Emma twists her expression sourly and eyes him before relenting and stepping forward to take his arm. "If you even /think/ about calling me /funny/..." she warns in dark bemusement.
"You're such a mistrustful grump." Pulling her hand in and placing his own over the top, Adel leads Emma out. "Let's go shopping. I still owe you a present, and there might be ideas to be found in the minds of the populace."
Emma quirks a smile and tucks in close. "Only thing I ever hear when out with you is jealousy."
"Plebes," Adel dismisses happily, and then hauls her off.
THE END.
Emma and Adel talk politics! BEWARE!