7824/A tale of two vintages

A tale of two vintages
Date of Scene:	10 June 2019
Location:	Ororo's Attic - Xavier's School
Synopsis:	Emma Frost visits Ororo's attic and the two women share a surprising moment.
Cast of Characters:	Storm, Emma Frost

---

Storm has posed:
After a mission gone a little sideways, Emma and Ororo had resolved to share a bottle of wine and pull some good threads out of the post-mission debrief. Tight quarters and explosive confrontations with villains often leave a lot of people wound up and sniping at their friends.

Hence, Ororo's attic space. It's definitely a refuge, with lots of plant life and warmth and just the sort of good feng shui that makes a room a comfort for the soul.

The door opens ahead of the creaking of the floorboards at the top of the stairs, and Ororo smiles warmly at Emma. "One of those conveniences of the Mansion, it's nice being able to text someone 'can I come by your room' without committing to a forty-minute drive across Chelsea," she says with a bright, flashing grin. Ororo's in a simple halter-topped sundress, hanging to midankle and exploding with vibrant tropical shades-- mostly reds and yellows-- in complicated floral patterns. Her hair, carefully braided into intricate plaits, arcs back and forth across her close-shaved temples with the motion of her head. Glass beads tinkle at their ends.

"Come in, please. Sit anywhere you like," she invites Emma, and presses the door gently shut behind the blonde mutant as she walks in. Ororo doesn't wear her shoes in her apartment, so bare feet scuff along the floor towards a small cabinet. A few stemless wineglasses are withdrawn. "I don't know if these are the correct glass for your vintage," she apologizes. "I hope they'll be sufficient."

Emma Frost has posed:
    Emma steps into the apartment and finds her eyebrows lifting upwards as she looks around the room, her hair left down and free, though it is expertly groomed and styled, likely she finally just got out of the locker room after having to dry it so thoroughly. Frost turns on her heels, black flats, she wears for comfort and no socks, looking back at Ororo, "If I'm driving across Chelsea for ... anything ... there is something horribly wrong with the world and the Justice League better be involved." Emma says with a knowing smirk as she extends the bottle of Taylor. "A vintage port from 1963. A winery in Portugal. It very mixture and contents are a mystery even to the winery." Emma says as she motions towards the open room with the bottle held out and she smiles faintly. "They will have to do for now Ororo." Emma says as she looks towards the other woman. "Anywhere you'd like to sit and enjoy some finer company?"

Storm has posed:
Ororo accepts the vintage and admires the worn label. It's obvious she doesn't know much about the finer points of oenology, but she can at least appreciate that it's the sort of wine good enough to attract Emma's more epicurean attentions.

"It looks very old," Ororo remarks. "Perhaps better saved for a fine dinner? Then again," she remarks, moving to her little kitchenette. A corkscrew's dug out. "If you save everything forever, you'll end up with a pyramid of toys you never got to enjoy. Live in the moment, yes?"

She nods at a little sitting area in the corner, which is assembled with no particular design aside from some harmony of use. High-backed reading chairs, two smaller table seats, and a number of sitting pillows are all focused in a circle around a coffee table that's clearly a repurposed steamer truck. A book is on the edge of the trunk, with a silk bookmark indicating Ororo must have just set it down.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," Ororo invites Emma. "I know my aesthetic sense isn't as refined as some, but I do try to keep this place... homey." She sets a wrist, bare arms cording momentarily with effort, and extracts the cork from the bottle.

Emma Frost has posed:
    Emma passes off the bottle of wine and she then reaches up to her shoulders to take the long almost duster style jacket she had decided to wear off and sets it over the back of one of the large reading chairs. Emma then walks back to the kitchenette. The black shoes clipping against the floor as she lifts her hands up to the cabinets and opens the correct door on her first try. The blonde reaches in and pulls down two of the wine-cups and smiles at them. "Oh, yes these. These will do fine."

    Emma holds both in one hand so she can reach up to the straps on her left shoulder and lifts them up to adjust and get comfortable in the camisole style top she chose to wear while being comfortable. A plain piece, no fluffy unicorn or logos on it at all. Emma takes in a deep breath and chooses where to sit based on where Ororo aims to sit.

Storm has posed:
Ororo moves over to the sitting area and pours the glasses of wine, setting them in front of one high-backed chair and a lower chair she picks for herself, partially facing it. "I have some cheese and crackers. Bear with me and I'll get a little plate," Ororo offers. "I imagine the wine needs to breathe a little, yes?"

She moves to her kitchenette and busies herself with the banal task of chopping apples and peeling cheese away from a few bricks kept warm on her windowsill.

"Is it violating trade secrets if I inquire about work?" she asks, glancing over her shoulder at Emma. A humorous note enters her rich voice. "I think I saw something about the stock markets going up. That's good for you, I hope," she says, inviting Emma to elabourate on the topic.

Emma Frost has posed:
    "If you want, but then we're not really drinking together, we're just drinking in the same roo- Oh, you're doing it anyways." Emma says with a lifted eyebrow before she turns around to sit down in a different spot, choosing the pillows on the floor as it seems novel enough to dine on the ground with her hostess.

    Holding the cup up to her nose and giving the wine a simple spin a couple of times, Emma pulls it away and flashes a unique face. "It could use five or ten minutes." Frost says before she sets it down on the coffee-truck-table-thing and hmms at the peculiar piece of furniture. "The markets being up are fine and nice, but stocks are finicky devils. In that most of my financial assets that aren't true property or physical goods tends to be tied up in the shares of my company and a few others I'm interested in." Frost explains. "But the moment I try to pull out and convert to cash, it affects everyone elses stocks in my company. So I'm only as valuable as Frost International... It's a very scary thing Ororo. Even coming out as a mutant could affect billions of dollars." Frost notes with a sour look before she looks back up to Ororo and tries to put on a smile.

Storm has posed:
Ororo returns with a little tray of cheese and fresh fruit in hand, still sitting on a well-loved cutting board. She sets it carefully on the steamer trunk, along with two cheese knives. It's a well-curated spread of options, including some soft and hard cheeses, some crackers, and some delicately citrus fruit as palate clensers.

Ororo tucks her dress behind her knee and sits smoothly, then rocks to her side to rest her weight on her hip.

"I understand the theory of economics behind stocks, but the whole concept of partial ownership of a company baffles me," Ororo admits. "From a purely rhetorical perspective, I mean. It is one thing if I am friends with the owner, or we're related, and we codify some kind of investment and return agreement. The idea that I can just... buy and sell little chopped up pieces of stock just baffles my sensibilities. How could I ever get to know a company well enough to decide if the CEO is taking care of the investment?"

Emma Frost has posed:
    "At the level you're thinking of, you don't, but if a company is at that level, the board does way more than the CEO, it's all politics as the company esentially becomes it's own individual and lives without anyone and yet with everyone's input and help. It's quite the phenomenon Ororo. I'd say you should come sit on a board meeting once." Emma pauses to take a knife and slide it under a piece of gouda, her personal favorite, and lifts it to her barely painted lips and chews on it slowly.

    "Oh that is divine." She compliments before continuing her thought. "But you wouldn't be allowed that far up, even as my companion." The blonde says with a shrug before she looks back to Ororo. "What about you? I--- I have no idea what it is you do, really." Emma says, a subtle frown, but at least she's curious.

Storm has posed:
"I am a gardener," Ororo declares in that broad accent, with a grin that's almost mischevious. "And I love it. And I am a teacher, and I love doing that as well." She gestures around her room, applying a little fig jam to a cracker. "All furniture I found, salvaged, or repurposed. Lots of plants and living things. There are books to read if I am bored and friends nearby if I am lonely. I can have solitude when I need it. I don't have a lot of material needs or wants."

Bare shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. "Aside from my clothes, I mean," she admits with a brutal self-honesty, and a laugh. "But I try to buy second-hand. Or sew my own. I live very within my means, and I am very content to do so."

Emma Frost has posed:
    Emma blinks as she looks around the room and shakes her own head. "Sorry, I suppose that you wear all that on your metaphorical sleeve." Emma says and falls silent in order to take a sip of the wine finally and lets it linger on her taste buds a few moments before swallowing with a turn of her head back to Ororo. "I'm not invading your personal space now, am I? I know very few of your friends would call me as such but you've always been more trusting or at least open to the idea of trust."

    "Tell me." Emma requests, leaning on the pillows and using her empty hand on the floor to keep herself propped up, curling at her waist and making her hip look much more extreme than it actually is. Her blue eyes lingering thunderously on Ororo, "What do you think of me? Truely."

Storm has posed:
"That's... quite a question," Ororo says, pausing in her motions. "And no-- you are not intruding," she assures Emma. A smile, warm and sincere, is flashed at the woman. "My door's always open when people need a sanctuary. Even if it's from themselves from time to time."

She reaches for her wine and takes a sip, curling her fingers around it to rake a bluntly manicured nail against the edge of the glass, and looks from the wine to Emma, as if marshalling her thoughts.

"You seem to be someone walking a narrow tightline," she says, finally. "On the left, professional failure. On the right, personal exposure. Both of these things seem to frighten you." Her richly mellifluous voice fills the room with her compassionate alto timbre. Hands weigh the two threats in equal measures, then rest at her side.

"You have unlimited potential to make change, for good or bad. Rule the world as a tyrant or save it. I wonder if at times you're unsure, yourself, which way to lean."

She fixes her unearthly blue eyes on Emma, brow furrowed in concentration. "Most of all, despite what you want others to think of you, you seem uncertain what you want. Is it better to be feared, or loved? Respected, or envied? You're at a crossroads in your life and I wonder at times if you struggle with that choice. But, in the end, none of that matters." She sips her wine again. "Because bad people do not have a conscience, and they don't worry about what might-have-been. They struggle with the self versus the society, or impulse versus maturity."

"With that all said, I think it is put most simply as: I think you are a *good person*," she concludes.

Emma Frost has posed:
    Emma remains laying on the floor listening to Ororo's opinion of the blonde with a sip from her crystal now and then. The blue eyes of Emma are transfixed upon Ororo the whole time the evaluation continues until Ororo drops the small nugget she was sitting on. Her full opinion.

    Emma's eyes widen for a split second before she reaches a hand up to rest on Storm's wrist. "Thank you." Emma reveals her gratitude for the briefest moment before she pulls her hand back and a hint of pink rises upon her cheek. Is there some taboo involved Ororo that Emma's never seemed to hint at before?

    The blonde reaches forward to pinch a slice of cheese and takes a bite but lets the sharpness linger on her tongue for a moment before finishing the cut and then taking another sip. "Some how I feel you're one of the few in these walls that actually believes that I am."

Storm has posed:
Ororo rests her free hand on Emma's fingers and squeezes when she touches Ororo's bare wrist, and gives her a warmly encouraging smile to go with the gesture. "It is never hard work to pay someone the kindness of a compliment," Ororo tells Emma.

She releases the woman's hand and sips her wine, shifting on the pillow to resettle her weight. "I imagine you're still struggling a little to find a foothold here," she remarks. "I was much younger than you are now when I arrived and it took me... a long time to find my role here. We were all idealistic teenagers with much power and no sense of personal responsiblity. I had the luxury of being able to rely on Scott and Jean for support, and friendships were able to grow over time. That makes life here much easier to bear. And there are people here who respect you-- and like you. Building towards their expectations of you will make all of this seem so much more familiar and comfortable."

She purses her lips to suppress a smile. "You -are- a good person, Emma, but I think you have to admit that sometime's you lose patience with the rest of us. You think very quickly and decisively. It's hard to keep up with someone so self-contained as you are."

Emma Frost has posed:
    The corner of Emma's mouth curls in a deviant smile before she looks to Ororo, "I hope that's not you asking me to slow down." Emma teases before lifting her wine to cover her amusement at herself. The white queen rolls against the pillows and stretches her legs out for a moment before pulling them back to herself to stay more comfortable on the floor.

    "Keep complimenting me like that Ororo, and I'll end up in here more than you'd appreciate." Emma confides and gives a slow wink of one of her eyes before looking back to the cheese and picking up a brownish and cream color mess and spreading it on a cracker before taking a bite and clearing her mouth of crumbs quickly.

Storm has posed:
Ororo's eyes flicker just once in a mild and rare expression of uncertainty. "My door's always open, Emma," she says, more out of habit than anything else. "It's not fair for me to have this room all to myself. I always keep tea around if someone wakes up in the middle of the night with a bad dream and needs a cuppa to calm their mind a bit."

She glances at the cup in her hands and takes a sip, then sets it and the saucer on the steamer trunk. "I'm don't like telling people to do things," Ororo assures the blonde gently. "Charles and Scott have that very well in hand, I've noticed," she says with a dry humor and a flashing grin. "Outside of a crisis there is not usually a need for 'imperative' action. I enjoy talking to people. It is how we get to know one another better, don't you think?" she inquires.

Emma Frost has posed:
    Emma's eyebrow rises up on her forehead at the open door policy Ororo has and she smirks at the idea of abusing it, but she knows she wont, it's not Emma's style to go running to someone in the middle of the night. "Life's not about being fair Ororo, you have this room because you earned it. One way or another." Emma says, revealing a lot about herself and her view of life and the things within. She finishes her cup of wine and sets the empty glass down on the steamer trunk and runs her finger tips across it, admiring the finish and the texture of the box.

    "They can be stubborn headed jack asses, both of them. Most of us can." Emma says, looking away as she means herself and then looks back to Ororo, "There's another way to get to know somebody better than just talking." Emma says, but doesn't finish and reaches out her mind slightly to try and learn what direction Ororo's mind would go given such an opportunity to wander into so many different directions.

Storm has posed:
Ororo nods at Emma. "It works for you and Jean," she says. "Telepathy. It.... makes me a little uncomfortable, at times," she confesses. "Psychic entanglement, I mean." She scrapes one fingernail under another, carefully trying not to say something offensive.

"Communication is sometimes about what is being unsaid, not just said," she explains. "I envy your advantage here, I admit. There are so many times when someone is struggling with something that hurts them and... I wish I could just reach into their brain and shake it loose."

She sighs, wearily. "Too many of us carry around trauma we don't mean to. Or need to. But, I suppose part of growing up is learning to ... learning to say things we're afraid to admit," she says. "Even if just to ourselves."

Emma Frost has posed:
    "Telepathy isn't as much as an advantage as you might think it is. The most observant people on the planet can basically do the samething we do. If they speak the right language." Emma states calmly, lifting a hand to speak with as she is that kind of person. "I mean that is, body language is almost more powerful a conveying tool as verbal communication."

    Then Emma reaches her hand back out and sets her face to her fullest sultry stare and barely opens her mouth to breath from it as she places her hand upon Ororo's leg and with that moment Emma is fully committed to Ororo's deepest attentions, needs and desires. "Ororo." She whispers heavily before she changes in an instant back to the calm and refined Emma that has been beside Storm all evening. "There's a reason Jean and I don't go around pulling hurt from people's minds all the time, or placing happiness in. It's false, unreal and likely even more damaging to a person's psyche than coping on their own." Emma states, wondering if her point got across to Ororo.

Storm has posed:
Ororo blinks.

She's a good judge of character. Has a talent for reading people's body language, and creating that sense of 'safety' that helps people work through problems without feeling condemned, or judged, or vulnerable.

The sudden flirtatious advance from Emma clearly takes her from left field.

"O-oh," she says, finally, once Emma finishes her explanation. Not so much in response to the discussion about telepathy, but the very blatant pass that Emma makes at her.

"I... am a little embarassed," Ororo admits, a little blood rising around her neck. "I've been a bit oblivious, haven't I," she says with a wry resignation, and a laugh at her own lack of self-awareness. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable. So much for my reputation for perceptiveness."

Emma Frost has posed:
    Emma's lips curl a little bit further than the last time as she spies Ororo's hint of a blush below her ears and along her jaw. "Oh, you weren't expecting me to go full Hell Fire Club, were you?" Emma asks with a smile as she takes another bite out of her small cracker and cheese spread.

    The blonde savors the flavors and the company she's found herself indulging in. "I wasn't trying to hit you upside the head with my flirting. I was showing you just how potent the body can be at delivering a message. I think you understood that more than if I had simply used words, correct?" Emma states, but then just her eyes change back into those come hither invitations.

    "You haven't made me uncomfortable in the slightest Ororo." Emma slowly rises up from the floor and stands at her full height and looks down to the woman she might actually call friend now.

Storm has posed:
"I ..."

Ororo looks a little unbalanced. She doesn't rise, though, content to stay in her spot on the floor. She loooks up at Emma with the same serenity as always, though perhaps a little less balanced than some days!

"I admit I am back on my heels a little," she confesses. "I wasn't aware you had any proclivities that way. I'm not accustomed to being flirted with."

She rocks smoothly to her feet and flicks a hand along the side of her dress to smooth it out so it hangs properly. "But I am flattered, nonetheless," she assures Emma, standing with her hands loosely interlaced in front of her stomach. A warm smile goes with the gratitude for the compliment Emma played. "Even if I was not expecting 'Hellfire Club Emma'," she quips.

"And I am grateful for the company-- and the wine. You are, always, welcome here," she assures the blonde woman. "Perhaps we can do this again, soon?"

Emma Frost has posed:
    Emma nods sharply to Ororo and looks towards the bottle of wine and the cheeses on the table still, "I have no preferences Ororo, if that's what you're hinting at, well, I take that back. I do have a thing for fine wine, delicious cheese, tight corsets and four k thread count sheets." Emma says with that flirty smile before she nods once more. "I will be seeing you around Ororo, and remember, you said any time I need. So don't zap me if I show up at three am with messy hair and runny mascara." Emma gives a half a smile at that before she starts to turn away towards the door.