2014.04.28 - The Weapon

As Wolverine is making his way about the city and doing whatever the Canadian is up to today, one person suddenly turns to him and says that Ms. Frost would like to speak with him at Harry's Hideaway before going back to their own work.

If he decides to actually see what all of the fuss is about Emma is seated at one of the nicer booths in the establishment, with a very nice view of all the foliage outside. Emma is seated with a glass of earl grey. Whatever Wolverine normally orders is waiting on his side of the booth.

Emma herself is dressed in a simple short white dress with a well fitted blue blazer with corset detailing in the back, and tall silver and diamond sandals. She is checking her tablet as she waits for her guest to arrive.

Logan slipped into Harry's Hideway. He was unsurprised by the invite. The Cuckoos came out to speak with him. Emma was heavily associated with them from what he heard via the chatter about The Academy of Tomorrow. Seeing the woman that looked some what out of place he sat down across from her.

"What can I get ya?" he asked then gave her a smile. His attire was a bit more rugged with a pair of blue jeans, cowboy boots, blank tanktop and that was it. His bomber jacket was missing as was the hat. The weather was too warm for each. "What did ya want to talk about, ma'am?"

Emma placed her tablet aside and slid her arms onto the table. A small friendly smile remained on her lips as she linked her fingers together, "I already have my drink, thank you. But should I choose something somewhat stronger, Denise has already helped me sort out what local brew I enjoy."

She waved to a waitress that walked by, looking much too comfortable with herself. Emma adjusted the teacup in the saucer, "Please, do not call me Ma'am, it makes me feel old. I know you are /far/ older than me."

She let out a soft chuckle and brought a sip of the tea to her lips, "You've already gotten to know my girls, which sounds so inappropriate when it's put that way. I wanted to get to know the weapon myself."

When Emma calls Logan a weapon he raised an eyebrow, "What is there to tell? Clearly yer doin' just fine findin' out information on me," he quipped then looked at a waitress that went by, "Brew. In the bottle. Canadian if ya got it. Domestic if ya don't," his blue eyes tried to examine Miss Frost. Something bugged Logan about her. The fact that Charles was so...unsure of himself when referencing Emma and the Cuckoos made Logan suspicious of the woman. Why Chuck was so off kilter was a mystery to Logan. Seeing Emma here, in the flesh, was going to be an eye-opening experience.

Emma watched the woman go by. For the safety of her girls and herself, anyone nearby thought they were having an intense discussion about sports or something equally boring. "Oh I acquired that knowledge from the five little blonde birdies. After you all had a chat, I thought I'd introduce myself."

She reached her hand forward to shake his, "Emma Frost, headmistress of the Academy of Tomorrow and CEO of Frost International. A pleasure."

She is of course now reading his mind, however successfully that will be. For now just reading the surface thoughts, if available.

Her birdie comment put Logan a little more at ease, his poker face remained up. Taking her he introduced himself, "Logan, staff at Charles Xavier's School fer the gifted. Same to you," his mind wandered to all manner of subjects. A yearning to go to Japan followed by curiosity if a younger brunette and a very familiar redhead liked the Sushi that was prepared for them. More thoughts collided into each other, she would get the sense that there's not suspicion, but cautious curiosity about Emma. Something about Chuck sparked that. What that was she would need to dig deeper. Then his mind thought back to the girls. o ("If I ever find those bastards again I'm gonna gut em' for Laura and the girls.") ((Because I presume she would press further for that info)) "They came to me fer help n' some guidance," he admitted. When his drink came he knocked it back, "I tried to help em' out. They've got a tough road ahead."

Emma let out a soft chuckle and looked to peer outside of the window, "That is the most understated way you could have put their situation. Or mine."

She reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope. Emma doesn't slide it over to Logan, but keeps it in her reach. An eyebrow very slightly quirks at the redhead thought as she continues, "They've abused little girls, and perhaps still using them. I need to know everything you do. Some guidance from a wise X-man just isn't going to the trick. This has to end, yesterday preferably."

An eyebrow went up to the envelope, "You'd know it if they were usin' the girls. They probably ain't but the damage is gonna stay there...maybe forever. Pyshic Therapy is gonna be big help. A couple of psychics got into my own help, it surpressed some of the damage. Findin' something to be passionate about is gonna help too," he looked at Emma with a sympathetic look in his eyes. "I wish I could say this was gonna be an instant fix. It ain't. They gotta remember who they were -before- the experiment. Before someone thought they'd be the best tracking device to find mutants. Find a way to unlock those sides of the girls is gonna be key," sitting back he looked at Emma. He was examining her body language and nonverbals with everything said. His eyes remained locked on her for the next part, "You may loose em' as a hivemind. How they talk to as if they're one. That might slip or change a little. Be prepared fer that," clearly Emma thought more of the girls than just a tool. If she had then the conversation wouldn't have been happening.

Emma slammed her hand once on the table, and her voice remained calm, "No I want to destroy the people who did this to them. To /me/. Burn, turn them all comatose, throw them all into the ocean. It's quite simple really."

Just then Denise came by with Logan's drink and she asked the pair, "Quite the game last night, right? "

She chuckled as she walked off as Emma sipped at her tea before continuing, "Let me handle the girls, they are my girls in every way apparently. What I've come to talk to about the fucks who did this. Do you have any useful information?"

She placed the drink aside and leaned forward slightly, her ample cleavage suddenly much more visible as she dove deeper into Logan's mind regarding this topic.

And here Logan thought it was a talk about the girls. Her outrage doesn't make him flinch. Taking his drink he knocked it back, "Yeah," he said to Denise. His blue eyes looked to her. O ("I think she used to dress up as heroes n' strip on a website.") His gaze went to Emma, "Offerin' help as someone that's been there. I've been trackin' them -Miss- Frost. You ain't the only parent that's been wronged at this table," and oh yes that was completely new information to Emma.

Narrowing his eyes at her, "They did it to mine too. And I know they ain't yers by blood...but you'd battle fer em' like they would. It shows."

Silence stood between them before them. Emma had collided into the large mental barrier, that probably felt like running full force into a steel door that had five locks, that surrounded Logan's skull, "I don't like it when someone tries gettin' in my head Emma. I'll tell ya what I can tell ya. The Department's been 'round since the 1940s. Cap was the first of us. A shadow organization that has up to twenty-three different experiments n' these are just the ones I accounted fer. I know of a place. I'm goin' there when I'm done with somethin' stateside...if ya wanna come up to Canada with me...yer welcome to it. It ain't gonna be pretty," that was Logan's offer to her. A chance to go to Alkaline Lake at an old facility that may have held some clues about the organization. "If not, I know a couple of telepaths n' I'd tell ya what we'd find. Yer a headmistress I know you got responsibilities. You'd know what I'd know," and there was an alternative offer with similar contingencies. Sitting back Logan finished off his beer and waited for a response.

With a glaze to her eye the waitress hurriedly returned back to Emma with a quickly prepared glass of beer, the white ale here she preferred if she /had/ to have beer, which this place specialized in. She waved her off as she quickly had a drink, "Yes but /Canada/?"

She touched to the side of her temple, damn mental blocks along with the less than stellar news gave her a minor headache. "I mean really, can't this super secret project be in Miami? And can Captain America come?"

She was silent for a second as she tapped her fingers on the surface as she debated, "I'll go. Probably anything useful will be destroyed, but perhaps something was left behind."

"Sorry darlin'. Where would you go to do somethin' you want unseen?" Logan asked shooting her a look. His blue eyes looked at her, "Sure but he's the least damaged one of us," and it was true. Cap was needed too much. People weren't willing to make him a soldier because he already was. Plus there were too many witnesses and morality hadn't grayed with time yet.

"I suppose. I just wanted another look at that butt again." Emma shrugged as she considered this little trip she would be taking with this scruffy man. She reached into her purse and pulled out a business card, sliding it to him. It simply read "Frost" along with her personal contact information.

She took the folder off of the table and placed it aside, and looked like she was about to start leaving when she stopped and smiled to Logan, "Speaking of. I may have heard or sensed that you are interested in a young redhead named Jean. Back off, I don't want to snuff out our blooming friendship and all."

She placed a wad of big bills on the table, for a bill that was likely less then twenty dollars. Emma slid out of the booth and flashed Logan her winning smile, "Toodles. We'll be in touch."

Sealing off himself after that threat, Logan just smirked at the threat. Emma couldn't break through his barrier. And that was going to be so useful. Taking the card he waited for to leave he just crumpled the card instead. Maybe someone wasn't going to be making that trip to Canada afterall. Pocketing the crumpled card he left the table.