Template:Featured Articles/6-2020
 Emma shrugged. “I’m fairly certain you could make money at a Club party from people who would want you to insult them soundly. We cater to all types and predilections, after all.” Emma poured herself another measure of cognac, topped up Kevin’s glass at his nod. “Yes, the Club would have known no more of mutants in those days than anyone else. It’s not like they would have considered inviting Logan or Charles to join.” She laughed suddenly, unexpectedly. “I can’t really imagine either of them fitting in to one of our soirees. You,” she raised an eyebrow at Kevin, speculatively, “Maybe. You’d probably be considered the insulting socialist someone kept around for that frisson of pretending they really were out to break all the rules. They’re mostly really terribly dull and staid and can’t imagine a world where they’re not privileged and in charge and can buy their way out of anything. Most of them have never used a single brain cell beyond those necessary to keep them breathing. I mean Sebastian and I used to think we were using the Club as a vehicle to take over the world, but then I realised that would mean having to spend even more of my life among rich old dullards with filthy minds and taking over the world lost all of its appeal. Lucky, I guess. Who wants to be responsible for the mess we’re currently in?” She leaned back into her chair. “So how many times have you died, Mr Sydney? If that’s not too personal a question.” "See, I just had to deal with Congress. Similar profile and calibre of members, but at least the sex swing and spanking paddles weren't allowed in the Capitol Building during work hours. As for deaths... two that I know of." He held his hand up just away from his temple and waggled his fingers. "The first few years out of the lake are pretty scrambled, so it's possible that there were a few more. I wasn't very functional, mentality, that is, so my imprints were often transients, people on the street or in shelters... it's flashes and short bursts of memories without anything to tie them together." “Well at least you’ve clarified why I’m never going to run for Congress. What a dull workplace it sounds.” Emma considered Kevin for a long moment of over the rim of her glass. “Is that what happened the last time?” she asked. “When I had to scoop your brain back together? I had to leave a lot of holes. I thought that was probably why you disappeared afterwards.” "No, that was more of a mix of a crisis of faith and some selfish asshole-ish behaviour. After all, how often did you get to confront the fact that you might not ever die and your life and identity could disappear completely in a few easy steps simultaneously?" He still wasn't necessarily comfortable talking about it, but Emma had been deep in his mind. He didn't imagine she wasn't already aware of the basics of his crisis. "I'd say it was profound but I'm not entirely sure it wasn't just an excuse for a bender and to screw anything that moved and took American Express." Emma tilted her head slightly and considered Kevin carefully. “I... There are worse ways to deal with a crisis,” she said, her tone carefully non-judgemental. “I mostly sort of knew where you were and could keep the others from trying to find and save you. The joy of rebuilding your brain did leave a bit of a... residue. Which means I didn’t have to make too much of an effort to make sure that you weren’t actively out to destroy all my excellent work in making sure you had a mind and that it was the mind of Kevin Sydney. I can offer... There are things I can do, if ever you are interested, that means you have some options about staying Kevin if someone else turns your brain into a smoothie. If you want to stay Kevin, of course.” "That's the real question, though. I'm dealing with the idea that I don't have to be Kevin. Easily. All those sins of the past just left behind." Kevin shook his head. "I'm a lot less worried about coming back from a bullet lobotomy than I am choosing not to. But... I appreciate the offer." He tipped back the last measure of the bottle between them. "So, with world domination off the table, what's next for the White Queen or, more interestingly, Emma Frost?" |
