When In Doubt Play The Queen

Brief Title:

Characters:
Finesse, Emma Frost

Scene Runner/Watcher:

IC Date:
09/25/12 12:57

Location:

Summary:
Finesse is on the hunt for the man responsible for the Jack O'Lantern note left for her awhile back, now she's reaching for the help of the White Queen

Social or Plot:

TS:
No

Log:
Early afternoon, in a worn stretch of the Big Apple that the cruel and mutant-hating sorts might call wormy. But never to the face of the tall blonde woman in white walking toward a sleek and sporty Mercedes-Benz two-seater. Assuming they knew her name and her vocation, of course. Or could take their eyes away from any and all aspects of her fashion-model good looks long enough to recall that she /has/ a name and vocation.

As if on cue, before Emma can get into her fancy car, a young girl on a motorbike zooms in to park in fashion that blocks the door. Looking up at Emma, her expression seems devoid of emotion as she quips, "you're Emma Frost, Headmaster of the Massachusetts Academy that was viciously attacked, correct?"

Emma stops short, blinking in apparently mild surprise at the sudden obstacle between herself and her car. "Correct. And /you're/ blocking my way. Pray, is there some pressing reason for that, or should I simply chalk it up to rudeness? Something I'm considering doing anyway," she replies, her tone just a hint icy.

"I hang around a place called Xavier's Institute, you may have heard of it," Jeanne says as a way to both avoid too much banter, and allow her to veer to the point at hand, "I have reason to believe we have common enemies. Would you be kind enough to help? I am on a hunt, and I need to narrow down a list of people to find the one most deserving of punishment."

"I /may/ have see a brochure or two for the place, yes," Emma replies, sardonically. "You choose an interesting way of asking for help. Specifically, one that demotivates your intended helper to the point of wishing to commit the decidedly unladylike act of planting one of her expensive white pumps, heel first, on your black-and-white-spandex-clad rear end, were she so gauche as to act on such childish impulses."

She plants her hands casually on her hips and studies Finesse from down the length of her nose. "In a word, back up and try again. Tact is known to work."

"I have not seen mentions of your sense of humor in biosketches, they should definitely ammend that." Jeanne remarks, not giving the impression of a young girl who was brought up to respect her elders, seeing she is talking to Emma as she would any other person. "I wouldn't advise on taking such action, I fancy my rear end better without shoes in its vicinity." She gets off her bike and walks it just a few steps clearer of the car's door, letting Emma get in should she wish to. "There is someone specifically after me, likely intent on hurting me, and perhaps other students at Xavier's...I was wondering if you had similar instances of messages left by means of notes attached to Jack O'Lanterns with daggers..."

"Imagine that," Emma adds, still sardonically, casually crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her head just slightly. Just in case, she begins a subtle scan of young Jeanne's surface thoughts, the better to judge her intentions and sincerity. "As I have no ill will toward the good professor or his students to speak of... quite the opposite at the moment... I'm inclined to help you. The message is an interesting touch. It doesn't ring any bells for me, but I'm sure I could find out something without too much trouble. Tell me more. Anything you feel might be pertinent, such as where the message was left, or details of the daggers or messages themselves. Preferably the full contents of the messages. Both handwriting and style of writing say a great deal about the writer."

Jeanne seems pleased enough that Emma lingers to talk to her, she didn't figure that would be the case, which is why she choose to first and foremost block Emma's mean of escape before starting the conversation.

Scanning Jeanne's surface thoughts, Emma would find the girl is quite honest in how pre-occupied she is with hunting down the person responsible for the message she got at Xavier's. Emma might even find she already narrowed the list to a few select choices: the Levins Jack O'Lantern, the Macendale Hobgoblin, 2 Mad Jacks (one of whom is Mcguire Beck, Mysterio's cousin), the Brothers Grimm. If Emma would make the mistake of venturing deeper, she'll find a world of mathematical equations, research material, and various scientific facts zipping all around. No doubt Jeanne is a girl constantly busy with whatever project she sets her mind to at any given moment.

"It started with videos of myself uploaded to the Internet, someone has been following me and videotaping me. Next came a Jack O'Lantern left for me at the Mansion, a note attached to a dagger. The note only stated: you." Jeanne looks curiously at Emma, and then asks, "if I give you the dagger, note, or even the Jack O'Lantern, do you think you could find the person responsible with just that? I have my list of suspects, but I simply went by mercenaries using a Pumpkin calling card."

You paged Havok with 'I think Emma might want to join Xavier's just to ground me now. ;)'

Emma frowns faintly, filing the mental gleanings away for later. "Possibly. I may know someone, or several such someones, who can shed some light on this matter. People who may have dealt with your suspects in the past. Pray, who have you come up with that might be your perpetrator?" No sense tipping her hand as a telepath too soon, after all, even if Jeanne probably already knows, on paper, that she is one.

"I figure the Jack O'Lantern has to be a calling card of sorts, the dagger is a threat, and the note only means they know me better than I'd expect." Either way, that would be Jeanne's deduction, and if Emma looked long enough, she'd already know the girl fancies herself someone who never makes mistakes. "So...looking at people who work under a pumpkin calling card or theme, I think it is likely one of several: Jack O'Lantern, Macendale Hobgolbin, Mad Jack...maybe Brothers Grimm. I was thinking paying each one a visit...but it would be smarter to narrow that list down, if possible."

"My, you /have/ been thorough. All strong possibilities," Emma muses, with a faint smile. "This definitely needs more research. Do you have a number by which you can be reached?" she asks, slipping her cellular phone from an inner pocket of her jacket.

"I do," Jeanne says and taking out her smartphone, she clicks a few keys and Emma would soon find she has a new contact under 'Finesse' which has a phone number and an email address. "They are both secure, so you can reach me no problem." She stalls for another moment, and then mutters, "thank you for being willing to help." Almost as if the 'thank you' part is something someone drilled enough time to her, that some of the time she even remembers to say it.

Emma smirks faintly as the data appears on her phone, nodding and tucking the device back into her pocket. The thanks draw a faint smile. "You're quite welcome. Our kind must hang together, else we hang separately. Please inform me if you come across any more pertinent information, and I'll be sure to add it to my own search."

"If you can help me nail that bastard...I'll owe you a favor, and my favors are good, because I'm very good at a lot of things," Jeanne says and somehow manages to maintain a mundane tone, as if she wasn't just bragging at random. It's almost like she has a subtext of "it's no big deal" to something like "I can do everything very well."

"I look forward to learning just how good you truly are, then," Emma replies, with a small smile. "I'm afraid I must be going... I can do nothing to work on your search from here, and I've other business to see to. The sooner that's done, the sooner I can devote my full attention to your troubles." She steps past Finesse's bike and opens the door to her car. "Do be careful on the way home, too. And if you see her, please give Miss Richenda Gray my regards."

"Will do, I see her occasionally...later," Jeanne says and revs up her motorbike, before speeding away, no doubt to pester someone else about her problems.

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