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Caritas- Wednesday

Between yesterday's injuries and the vandalism (Kenzi), Kitty was a little uneasy today. She blamed at least part of it on knowing something was going down this weekend, and just wanting everything to go smoothly until then. The odds of that happening were probably slim to none, but a girl could dream.

She was more than ready to put on a smile for anyone who came in, though. Part of that going smoothly thing.

[You know the potential SP drill. At least people aren't walking past my desk every two minutes anymore.]

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You know this drill too.

Emma waved off any assistance from Kitty as she came in the door, taking a seat near the back to wait for her dinner companion.

[OOC: Emma's 'date' FB, their discussion NFB]

It was a lovely evening, wasn't it? Callie enjoyed the summer months -- it felt more like Hell when the weather picked up.

"Some day we need to go dining in Hell," she said as she took her seat. "You'd love La Burnadine's. Very chic."

Perfectly innocent dinner between friends. Obviously.

(what she said, squirrels, plz and thx!)

"If I ever actually get to go to Hell, and come back, I think they automatically have to promote me to Queen in the Hellfire Club," Emma replied dryly. "Not that I'm a recognized member - yet - most of them still think of me as Shaw's pet dancing girl."

"And dear god could I use some chic in my life again. I thought I knew what I was getting in to when I came back, but the shopping! I've lived in New York too longer to tolerate this much pink and fuddy."

"You'd love Daddy's mansion on the Lake of Fire, then," Callie laughed. "Old-world classy without being gothic. Some demons use Hell as an excuse to be tacky."

The garish colors of New Hell didn't help.

"I miss New York even more than Hell," she admitted, shaking her head. "There is no night life here. Or culture. And if I didn't own a clothing store, we'd lack fashion, as well."

"No nightlife, no culture, no decent booze and no recreationals," Emma complained. "Oh, and now my lover is pissy at me after yesterday's singing because I won't go slumming with rebels. I swear, the things I do to help Shaw."

"We're model citizens. Or something. Think we can get her high holiness to grant us a day away over the Causeway? Fall fashions should be hitting soon and I don't want to miss everything."

"I haven't seen Her Pinkness in a while," Callie said, in a careful attempt at lightness. "But of course she knows best. We'd hate to go anywhere without permission."

If her tone of voice was any dryer, it would qualify as a desert.

Was Emma pulling out two mini-fridge bottles of rum from her purse and sliding them under a table as a bribe? Yes, yes she was.

"Now, I may just be a lowly human at the whim of the magic users of the island--" Yeah. Right. "--but since when do demonesses care about following rules, darling?"

Very smooth, the move with the rum. Callie approved.

"Didn't you know?" she said, brightly. "Rules are simply my favorite thing. So is behaving myself in public, and dancing to a new tune every week."

The rum meant they could speak freely, as much as they dared to do in public; Callie wasn't foolhardy enough to begin shouting from the rooftops, but she could use the freedom to be practical.

"It's not that I'm not enjoying this," she said. Because, well, demon, and making students jump to her every whim was utterly delicious. "But."

"And it's not every day I get to teach people how to deal with the weak minded and the idiots that surround them," Emma agreed. "But."

There was a lot to be said for 'But'.

"It seems we have a similar mind on some matters," Callie said, picking up her menu and paying a great deal of attention to it. "Such as when one should say 'when,' and what counts as ... well. I believe I said it best earlier. Tacky?"

One did not need to rename an island. Or ask consenting adults to hide their sexual relationships.

Edited 2012-07-26 02:15 (UTC)

"I dislike waste, tacky things, and people who aren't paying me enough for what's required in the contract," Emma agreed, also very interested in the menu. "I would say it's the human condition, but..." she gestured slightly. "I believe the present company understands my position."

"Present company understands all too well," Callie sighed. "It does occur to present company to wonder whether ... there are others who would take your meaning."

They couldn't be the only ones. Seriously.

"I'm sure they would take it, but where would they be willing to take it to?" Emma asked. "Now, I'm a woman of ambition, darling. But so many people aren't."

On her napkin, she wrote THEY will never win because you can't use moral right to kill a sociopath. And I doubt they'd allow our dubious intentions.

She waited a moment for Callie to see it, then tearing it up and dripping some water on it to run the ink. "The future belongs to the bold and the daring, after all."

Callie had seemed to give the napkin all the attention one might a dead fly that landed on the table. But she was nodding.

"It's just like they say, isn't it?" she continued easily. "If you want a thing done right, you have to do it yourself."

She was perfectly willing to be daring. Though it was hardly daring to dispose of something well past its sell-by date.

Emma flagged down Tino for two martinis, seeming to easily slip into some chatter about how that was why culture and fashions were lacking - that no one would take any risks!

<<I want the school,>> she told Callie silently. Bluntly. <<This was supposed to be a place where gifted, troubled, or just strange children could at least learn some decent social life skills, if nothing else. Now they can't even get laid.>>

<<I want to make it a school again, and I think I can do better than anyone else dealing with the special needs of children, given my power, and I have money to back me.>> Beat. <<And there are far more subtle ways to teach children the truth about the world>>.

What had Xavier's students gotten from his tender care prior to their transfer? Dead. Detention. Death-wishes. No more mutants were dying from his neglect, if Emma could just get her hands on the school.

<<What do you want?>>

Edited 2012-07-26 03:28 (UTC)

Callie sipped her martini and tried to appear casual.

<<The usual,>> she said. <<Money, power, and sex. I'd love to zip back to New York, but Daddy wants me here, and sucker that I am, I obey. So I want her gone instead. She is really putting a crimp in my style.>>

She set her drink down and made idle talk about the spring line of shoes.

<<I don't want to run the school. I'm just not going to live with Queen Crazy peering over my shoulder. A girl needs to eat.>>

Succubus. She didn't destroy anyone she fucked -- she didn't even hurt them, unless they were into S&M -- but it was annoying having to sneak around like a teenager in a bad sex farce.

<<I don't give a damn who takes over, unless they're going to put a bunch of rules on me,>> she said. <<And I could use a raise.>>

Seemed like a good time for it.

Edited 2012-07-26 03:47 (UTC)

And this one.

Oh, like anyone would be surprised Tyrion was here again. He'd barely even bothered with the rigamarole of the password in making a beeline for the space.

He sat in a booth with a beer close at hand, humming absently -- "Rains of Castamere" had a way of sticking in your head -- and scratching lightly at a map as he tried to figure out where people should start from on Saturday.

Assuming there really was a Saturday, anyhow. Tyrion was not one to be optimistic about war.

[OOC: Will be slow for next couple hours.]

Another work day, another night of that awful, awful burny stuff with a chaser of the most decent beer he could order. Nothing shocking going on here. Just a day in the life of Coulson.

I have nothing interesting for here.

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