|What: Cutting the ties that bind, finding common ground, and making changes.|
Emma is not normally quite so micromanage-y as this. But due to teh nature of the project-- and also that Tony Stark arranged the contractors instead of herself-- the CEO and now headmistress finds herself dropping by to watch the later stages of contruction. The lot's been graded, the building's been raised and most of the construction on it has moved to the interior. The quad's walkways have been poured and set, the Fountain's plumbing is going in, and teams are laying sod and transplanting the shade trees. The dormitory towers stand partially-finished... the structural portions are complete, and now modular rooms are being fitted into the cylindrical stacks. The security isn't quite in place-- the perimeter systems are still being installed, for instance.
Emma herself eventually comes to rest under one of the trees already in the ground and taking root, settling onto the finished half of the ring-shaped bench around the base. She crosses her legs at the knees, and removes her phone from her jacket, thumbing at it. She doesn't bother pulling the horrid construction hardhat off her head-- she doesn't need another chiding by the friendly but insistant foreman who is just doing his job.
As sneaky as Remy is, even he's wearing a hardhat. Foreman must've gotten to him, too.
He tugs the lapels of his blazer, straightens his shirt, and squares his shoulders as he approaches Emma. "Bonjour," he greets her, lifting a hand for a small wave. "I heard you'd broken ground on de project, but I didn't realize you do so much so fast. I'm impressed."
There's a pause, then he clears his throat and continues. "It take some time, but I put some distance between me and de criminal element. I'm mostly clean, mostly sober, and ready to teach."
Emma seems a little surprised by at least one, and possibly two of those three things. And maybe also the hardhat. She tips her own hat back at him, smiles, and moves a roll of blueprints out of the way so she can pat the bench. "I got Tony Stark involved and told him I wanted it done in a week. It's been quite impressive," she admits. "Have a seat, Remy. I'm glad to hear you're taking this all so seriously." Which is sincere, if an understatement.
"It's for de kids, right?" Remy shrugs his broad shoulders and plops down comfortably onto the bench. "Anyway, it's impressive what you can get done when you can say 'I don't care what it costs' and mean it." He makes a sweeping gesture to indicate the near-finished school. "Nice place. When you think it'll be done?"
Emma grins, and looks out over the work. "Oh," she muses, thinking it over. "Probably precisely the end of the week, actually. The scheduling is quite impressive. I think I'll have my new penthouse finished in a couple of days, as well. I'm not as impressed with the hotel as I expected," she muses, glancing over. "Now, I hope by 'distanced' you don't mean 'completely divorced from'. Because there's something to be said for keeping a foot in the pool. Though I get the feeling you were in fairly deep previously." She's not exactly fishing so much as encouraging him to talk about it a bit. One does need to know the lay of the landscape, after all.
"You're not wrong," Remy admits readily. He pulls off his glasses, drops them in his lap, and meets Emma's eyes. "About any of dat. I keep a few contacts. A fence, my favorite money launderer, a soft-hearted arms dealer. Stuff like dat. But I was nose deep in de shit heap, as it were. I didn't want to bring trouble back here if I could help it. I'm as safe as I can be without using... drastic measures." He arches an eyebrow and draws a finger meaningfully across his throat.
Frost doesnt' so much as blink at the implication. She does, however, nod crisply. "Sounds about right. Naturally, safety is important. But nothing is perfectly safe, Certainly not the world. We take what measures we can. And if those aren't enough and someone comes knocking..." she smiles, shrugs, and mimics his gesture. "They become a learning experience, I suppose." She seems to be satisfied with that avenue of conversation, at least for now. "Auspicious beginnings, at any rate. You know the girls turned up today? They've decided they want a dorm room." There's a bit of satisfaction in the tone. "I don't think it's an admission or promise of anything, of course, but it certainly is... interesting."
Remy lets out a low, rich chuckle and bobs his head. "Dey mentioned dat dey might come by. But, as with you, dey didn't make any promises about anything else. I think it'll be good for all of us, though. I've gotten used to having dem around, and I know de four of you are starting to get to know each other. Is good, me." And he does seem satisfied with the way things are coming together. There's another laugh, this one shorter and a bit sharper. "Heh. Bet nobody guess Remy LeBeau be a teacher when he grow up."
"They remind me of... well, me, at that age, actually. A bit different of course-- and triplicate-- but there are similarities," Emma admits. "I may one day even tell them so. We'll see." She tilts her head at him, and grins with a sort of playful, impish expression. "Maybe dey jus' never really know Remy, eh?" she suggests, in a passable-to-good imitation of his accent. "I don't think it's that much of a stretch. But then, I doubt anyone would have though it of myself, either."
"I do appreciate de opportunity, y'know." Remy's voice is quiet, but firm and direct. "For a long time, I have dis itch I can't scratch. I steal things. I make big piles of money on my bed. I swim in it like Scrooge McDuck. And for what? Doesn't mean anything. Dis..." he flicks his hand at all the construction. "Dis mean something. Knowing I'm gonna matter feels pretty good." Activity In 1 Hero MUX 12:16 AM
Emma just nods quietly. "It's amusing, isn't it? Most people spend their whole lives in pursuit of large sums of money. The cruel joke is that as nice as it is, once you get a certain amount, it becomes largely meaningless, and if you don't have anything else..." She make a little tipping motion with one hand. There's a long pause, and she shakes herself, straightening her suit jacket. "Right. So. There you have it, the White Queen has a heart and the Bayou Sneaktheif has a soul after all. Who'd have thought." Her eyes slide over to him. "You're welcome, Remy. Thank you for being here. I don't think you'll squander the chance as others would."