Can We Work Together?

December 31, 2015:

Two Telepaths go in search of the Waterpeople

New York Harbour

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: None.


Fade In…

To find the people that live under the waves, go to where the serpent suns itself. That much Jean could have gotten out of any dock worker either by picking it from their brain or just asking them. The Dragon of New York Harbor and the woman that comes out of the sea (two women, depending on who you ask) are something of an urban legend in the Harbor area. What's more, this is a legend that has some truth to it, as Jean may be about to find out.

The place where the serpent suns itself is a lonely spit of land with a large flat rock on it at the southern end of New York Harbor. On that rock, presently, is a fifty foot long black and red lizard with wings. A dragon. The day is chill and a bit foggy, so not so much with the sunning today but he's there all the same, or at least, if you get close enough he is. From a distance, through the fog, it's hard to make out anything but fague shapes. There is most certainly a mind there, for those of a telepathic pursuasion. An unusual mind at that.


Seated on the rock, beside the dragon, is a woman. A woman dressed in barely anything … how she isn't feeling the chill and the fog is anyones guess. A mesh bag lays on the rock between her and the dragon. A bag full of black urchins and anenomes… which might explain why the brunette is wet … but drying quickly.

Telepathically, Ulani presents much like any human. The Blue might be waterfolk, they share a number of things in common with Surfacers.

Cracking open a black urchin, Ulani looks to Rowan and offers up half "I suppose opening these in that form, is … problematic."


"I will say and freely admit that you're a bit more diplomatic than I am." Jean murmurs, inside the boat.

The call itself went out to Emma Frost directly, not by mental manipulation or by the all too impersonal text message. She actually dialed the womans number, gleamed from Elizabeth's phone, requested and practically (more than likely) begged for her presence to accompany her to this fabled isle after an idea struck that they need help on all fronts.

For there was a time, when their people came under attack as well.

"Business savvy. It is after all a business deal."

Their arrival was nothing but top notch; white stretch limo with the necessary handy-men to make sure that both women exited the car with a bit of grace. Whatever Emma was wearing, was a far cry from what Jean had wore herself. The typical usual black peacoat with black slacks and boots that brings her height up to about an inch. And the boat that was a mere rental in which the handy-men chose to lay down freshly clean fabric that was soon to be discarded after it's use so that the women they accompany would not get dirty.

The boat itself was steered to the island that the dockworker mentioned with sheer telekinesis; a simple push against the water currents and cut through the fog that has her eyes squinting and glasses retrieved from the depths of her coat to put on. Even the smell was nearly horrid, rotted fish near the shore and thankfully reduced to salt and the hint of an oncoming storm upon the horizon.

As the boat nears its destination, Jean gives it a little push; raising the front end of it upon the land so that the woman can step upon the earth and not water, her greens alighting upon the rather large dragon with a furrow of her brow and a glance back towards Emma, a poker face soon slid on to hide the fear and apprehension of such a meet and idly wonder..

..What the bloody fuck was she thinking?


"If we want help, why should I not just hire us a cadre of mercenaries? Wouldn't that be eminently simpler than all of … this? Besides, what do we have to offer them, that you think would be sufficient to compel them to involve themselves in our survival?" Emma comments with her usual wry aplumb as Jean propels their rented vessel across the ocean currents towards the stone in question. "And if we simply have to make this introduction … why would you not allow me to rent something more appropriate?" Yes. Emma would prefer a cigarette boat, or better yet her yacht, damnit. Style is important!

Before long, however, the silvered reflective lenses of her sunglasses take in the approaching target destination, and the rather large lizard on its surface. "This … is ridiculous. That thing will eat us just for showing up." Emma is not Ms. Positivity. That's the redhead's job. But Emma is prepared, including a cellphone prepped with a speed-dial emergency program that will call in a team of mercenaries with a helicopter for extraction. Just in case.

Trust no one is Emma's motto, after all.

Once the rented vessel lands, Emma releases her hold on the frame and makes her way towards the bow. This once - and JUST this once - she is not wearing heels, but practical deck-soled boots. Of course, they are stark white, as is everything else she is wearing. She steps onto the sandy shore and makes her way towards that rock. One would think it no more than iguana, given her expression. Poker players take lessons from Emma Frost.


Splat! Crack! "Oh I just usually crush them and suck out the insides." For those familair with Rowans' voice, the dragon's is that but much, much deeper. And while the topic of conversation is merely snack food - urchins in this case - that can't have been a comforting thing for the two telepaths to hear as they show up. Nor can the second 'crack, splat' followed by 'sluuuuuuurp'. "We're going to have to move soon on the- hullo, I think we have company."

It's not unheard of for people curious about the 'legend' to come out here. Usually dock workers and their families but sometimes the odd looky loo. It's not common but it happens. Ordinarily Rowan just slips into the water or flies off, allowing a look but not a really good one.

At any rate someone's already here. Two someones it seems. The dragon goes from head low to the ground to head up and alert. He's got to be, even lying down, a solid ten feet or more to the top of his head. At least he hasn't gotten up yet.

"Hello there?" He calls out in that deep, rumbling voice of his.


"I'm sure you do." Ulani murmurs as they eat their snacks, listening to the Dragon as he rumbles. Hazel eyes turn to the approaching women, and the Blue Envoy gains her feet. It should be clear, given what she's not wearing, that she's incredibly fit … even if she's a bit short on height. Her wrists and hands are adorned by coral slave bracelets and a coral pendant hangs around her neck. There's no weapons obvious …

Standing clear of Rowan, in case they need to move, the Blue female might appear relaxed - relaxed in the way of a soldier who is unsure of their surroundings.

The telepaths can easily read her, though, she's assessing the danger and planning a way out if required.

As Rowan's already called out, she remains silent … waiting to hear their answer.


"We're attempting political correctness here." Jean states. "It's bad enough you and Elizabeth are.." Apart of X-Black. "..now a cadre of mercenaries?" She shakes her head. "That doesn't follow the 'dream' that we've slated for ourselves.. And.. I suppose that's what we're here to find out. To ask help, to offer help. Tithings and what have you." Jean really says nothing more, for it was the truth in all forms.

The large dragon could swallow them whole or stomp upon them like a bunch of ants.

But that doesn't get to her, no. She's died at least twice and faced death more than that. What really gets her? Is the sound. And the smell.

Most people had the iron will and constitution of stomach to handle such a sound and smell as that. Mothers who change dirty diapers, men of the sea who pull in cargo of the fishy variety, most who tend farm and have to clean barns and horse stocks of their filth on the daily basis. Everything that Jean, currently, wasn't.

At least Ulani was recognized, for a gloved hand lifts in a wave as Rowan reaches his full height, her mouth opening and shutting.. opening again and shutting.. her eyes watering slightly as that wave immediately smacks over her lips to turn in an about-face towards Emma.

All yours. I'll be over here.

"Hfnngngnn.." Jean manages to get out, staggering just a touch as a quiet 'urp' is heard, her body stiffening as she walks like a plank towards a small (by Rowan's standard) tree to hide behind to lose her lunch in the most dignified manner that she could. Out of sight, qui—….

"BLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH. Urp!"


Emma Frost has no real experience with mucking stalls or rotten fish or anything else like that. But she has an iron will; she is a cast iron cold hearted b*tch, after all. So even as she is assaulted with that stench, she clamps down with her will and resists her body's instinct to barf. Instead, her telepathy reaches out to manipulate her own body, quelling that response, erasing those impulses and continuing to do so as she marches forward, even as Jean retreats.

~ Damnit, Jean. This was your idea! ~

"Hello. Pardon our approach. For the record, we mean no harm." So long as no harm is meant to them, at least. Emma is cold-hearted, not a barbarian, after all. "My name is Emma Frost. The redhead who just disappeared around that corner is Jean Grey. Would you mind, overmuch, if we continued forward? We were apparently hoping to discuss something with you."

What?! That's as diplomatic as Emma gets, for pity's sake.


The sound of vomiting quite clearly reaches Rowan's ears and as the women… well woman now, it's just Emma, approach the dragon 'unfolds' from his recumbant positon and rises to his feet. Yeah. Okay. He's tall like that. "Not my usual reaction." He murmurs to Ulani of Jean's… sickness, before turning his attention to Emma and her greeting.

"Hello Emma. My name is Rowan and this is Ulani. Not many people come out here." Which is the point, really. "But I suppose I don't mind talking." Beat. "Is your friend going to be okay?"


Now that Ulani gets a view of Jean, her eyes widen in recognition and then shock as the redhead disappears and … oh!

"No, it's not." she murmurs to Rowans words and glances as he takes his feet "Perhaps, Rowan, it would be better if you took another form?"

"Hello Emma. Well met." Rowans given their names and she looks passed the white queen "I met Dr Grey, in passing the other day." They hadn't really had time to talk. "How may we help you?"

Ulani's posture has relaxed somewhat, still that of a soldier on alert… but she's not looking for danger now… she's curious as to what bought the women out this way.


It was highly unexpected. There was nothing out of sorts with Jean physically, the sound incited with the smell gave birth to the vomit that flew from her belly and towards the ground. Why, she even used her hand to brace against the wood, fingers clutching and curling into a fist, pounding with a strike until everything was emptied and her all was simply given. She draws out a handkerchief from her pocket, dabbing slightly at her mouth, fingers pressed to her eyes to wipe away the tears, righting herself as best as she could as she slowly makes her way from her hidden spot.

She clears her throat just a touch, her face dabbed with red from the strain, a smile put on even though her belly ached with the threat of offering more to the gods above.

"My apologies.." She murmurs quietly, her cheeks soon puffing out again as a hand covers her mouth.


Of course, Emma is left to it still. Inwardly, the platinum blonde grimaces as she advances all clad in pristine white. "I am not entirely sure that you can help us. But my comrade here is under the impression that there is at least some possibility we could be of help to each other, and she asked to come here in hopes of pursuing that possibility." Trust Emma to take her time working around to this. But then again, it wasn't her idea, and she's trying not to piss off the dragon, or the underclad woman in coral jewelry. Wisdom and intelligence are the better part of valor, after all.


Rowan quirks a brow at the 'help each other'. It's an odd expression, the arching of the eye ridge as the dragon does not strictly speaking have a brow. "I see. A moment, please."

The dragon starts to… smoke? No it isn't smoke. But there's something coming off him at first in small amounts and then in much larger ones. It's white with reddish sparkles in it and it looks for all the world like a bad, pixilated particle effect on low resolution. As it happens the creature's form shrinks and starts to resolve into that of a sandy haired young man in casual clothing.

"There. Easier to talk like this." The voice is the same, just less rumbly. "So who, exactly, is 'we'? And how might 'we' be of help to one another?"


It certainly has Ulani's attention, she's not spoken much of their troubles. Settling back on her heels, she watches Emma consideringly, after checking that Jean is indeed ok.

"You are mutants, yes?" she questions the blonde and asides to Rowan "The mutants on the surface have many who … fear them … and I know from a … friend" Jean knows who that is "… that it is getting bad for them."

"It is one of my concerns for our people, Rowan. That the fear exhibited will be echoed at us." And their government may not wish to have that happen.


Jean takes that slight step back as Rowan transforms, glancing towards Emma with her hand slowly dropping towards her side, her lips pursed to try to steel herself without the need to block of her receptors. Which, she's failing hard to do. An urge is an urge, and Jean often times answered. As the normal body of the young man is seen, a slight smile draws upon her face. Ulani answers for her, and a gesture is soon given in both Emma and Ulani's direction as the sum of the whole part as to why they were there.

"She's correct in that assumption, sir." Jean finally speaks up. "This is why we're here today."

She smiles at the both of them, eidetic memory is such a bitch.

"You.." She gestures towards Ulani.. "..saved my life when the pillars that arose in New York threatened the very seas that you live in. And you, sir.." She gestures towards Rowan.. "..have been whispered about among many mutants and scientists alike." She takes that step forward, but does not close the distance. "There are some of Emma's and my people who do have an affinity to water. And a lot of us who would take great care to see the nature of the world to flourish, starting with the oceans, the seas.." She smiles a little. "I would love for us to meet with the King and Queen of the Earthly Bodies to at least see what we can do to help each other. For .. what Ulani says may come true. It's something that we all would benefit getting ahead of."


Emma lets Jean speak. That's what she's been waiting for all this time. But she does incline her head towards Ulani, when questioned as to her own mutant status. Here, amongst this select group, she will self-identify without fear or concern. Beyond that, she waits to see what the other two say in response to Jean, before trying to pipe in more on her own.


Rowan glances back at Ulani briefly and then turns his focus on the two women before them. "We can certainly pass a message on to the Sea King and Queen. There's trouble beneath the waves near Atlantis so I'm not sure when they'll get back to you but I we can convey some urgency to them…"

As for the Blue, though… "This may be something for Kraye, do you not think Ulani?" He knows there are elements of the Blue government that have been pushing for more contact with the surface. The troubles are twofold, though. One, they haven't really had anyone to contact. No one in the government is likely to do more than be polite. All surface nations have a vested interest in not acknowledging the undersea ones and after Atlantis' stunt last year there's no small amount of hostility toward them. It's fortunate in this area that the Blue are unknown as a nation. Secondly, there are factions in the government that advocate violence toward the surface or simply fear to get entangled in surface matters and prefer anonymity and neutrality. Still…

"They may well be the contacts you've been seeking." Even if they don't have an official status, actual allies up top would be valuable in the Blue's ongoing efforts to integrate themselvies into the affairs of the surface world at large.


As Jean speaks, Ulani bows her head "My apologies, Dr Grey. That day was incredibly chaotic, I had not realised it was you." She certainly remembers standing beside the Sea Queen and defending New York from the onslaught.

"As an official channel, yes." The Blue Female agrees with Rowan "Ambassador Kraye should speak with them. I am certain he will, should I request it." Looking to Jean and then Emma, she considers "Some form of alliance between us, would be beneficial and allow for our kind to become known."

Pausing for a moment, there's an inherent risk for the Blue, allying with mutants - they may draw unnecessary and unwanted attention. "What say you, Emma? Do you support this approach?"

As to asking the Atlanteans? Ulani will send a message to Mera … recommending the course of action and arranging a meeting if possible.


Jean places her hands behind her back as she watches the two consider, her lips frowning somewhat.. but not in dismay. In pure thought. This allows her to take a step aside, watching the three rather carefully. She wasn't reading their minds, persay, just their body-languages with a very, uncannily slow tilt of her head.

"Hmh." Is all she manages to say, her gaze falling upon Emma. Ultimately, if Jean had it her way? She'd be the one who'd be meeting with the King and Queen to handle discussions. Chess pieces in their place, after all.

"If there is anything I can do to help with your causes, no strings, I'm ready and available. I do owe you all my life."


"Given I am personally unaware of any of the players involved beyond my own limited experience?" Emma inquires of Ulani, evenly enough. "I am in favor of any effort that can win mutantkind the supporters and allies it needs to survive against those who would see us enslaved, exterminated or imprisoned." And it's not as if Emma has any moral character to be compromised by requests for assistance. She'd do anything asked, if it earned her, and fellow mutants, backup when it is needed. Just make sure said backup is equally as lacking in squeamishness.


Rowan seems thoughtful. If either of the telepaths are scanning him they may well note a couple of things. The first is that the Blue are in a delicate position. They wish to avoid outright conflict with surface nations but lack a suitable way to introduce themselves without some significant risk. In his opinion, this is worth the risk. Mutants are, for lack of a better term, a sometimes oppressed minority within the surfacer society and it appeals both to his sense of right and wrong and his understanding of surfacer politics to pursue a dialogue with them.

The second is that Rowan has a deeply ingrained dislike of telepaths… one that curiously doesn't seem to be related at all to mutants. Indeed on his world there is no such thing and telepathy was instead brought about by technology and put to destructive ends. "Seems worth it. Is there a suitable place to meet that you know of Miss Frost? Miss Grey?"


Ulani's thoughts echoes Rowans in regards to their position but for her, there's a deeper vested interest … she's been tasked with making this happening, somehow … without making political overtures to any group. It puts her in an awkward situation. There's also a sense of a deeper connection to the mutants of the Surface, Jean might know what that is …

Both women, should they delve, will also note she doesn't have the same dislike of telepaths that Rowan does - she's not from a world where they were feared.

"I agree with Rowan. It is worth investigating further." And if she can arrange it, Kraye and the Atlanteans will be present together. Hadn't Mera asked if the Surfacers could help?


That unnatural slow head-tilt is continued as she stares towards Rowan, the glimpses are slowly pulled from his mind like fingers to his scalp, massaging and working him over until a lull that's comfortable yet highly noticed. Those searching fingers are soon pulled slowly from Rowan's scalp to his shoulders, dropping away like a phantom in the night as her gaze soon falls upon Ulani to search and read as well. T'was then her head eerily tilts again, eyes nearly vacant, the same movements put upon her mind.. searching and seeking..

"I see." Ayep. Pictures of -him- litter her brain. It was rather adorable!

"I'll leave the location of the meeting place in Miss Frosts hands. As she will be handling the negotiations and act as the go between for us all." She smiles slightly. "But I will pass over my contact information.." Her hand lifts, and with a wave they should 'know'. Just a simple thought and means to contact Jean would be there by way of her cell phone. "..if you have need of me personally."


~ WHAT?! Grey, what the HELL are you thinking?! I'm no ambassador! ~

Yes. That was Emma's response to Jean's pronouncement. Not a lick of that shows on her face or in her eyes, of course. Emma's just too damned good at composure to let it show. But she wants to throttle Jean to death right here and now. Let's see if she can come back from the dead a third time, while Emma still has her hands crushing the redhead's throat!

"I presume you have access to standard civilian technologies. I can provide you with means of contact easily enough." Yes, Emma can do the Telepathic Memory trick too, and does so. No wave of her hand like a jedi-obsessed fool, either.

As for a location, I presume a deep-sea access would be preferred, and something with a modicum of legal privacy? I believe I can secure ownership of a decommissioned off-shore oil derrick. Would that do?" Emma inquires, waiting for reaction.


"That will work fine. And yes, I have a, er, cellular phone." The technological networks that Rowan is used to accessing are all either very different or very hostile, so having a 'smart phone' has been kind of an experience. At least he had someone to show him the ropes and doesn't butt dial people anymore. Of course getting used to having one while wearing mimetic clothing was also an experience.

"How soon can you be ready?" That'll tell Ulani how quickly she needs to get Kraye ready for a meeting and how much time Rowan has to check on other things currently in progress.


"I have a cell phone." Ulani has adapted well to the Surface it seems. But then she didn't have the dimensional shift that Rowan had to deal with. When the women are ready, she'll provide the number.

Jeans number appearing in her head has her blinking. Not even Mera does that …!!

"The location is amenable." she affirms to Emma "And when you know when, I will make the necessary arrangements on our side."


There really was nothing more for Jean to say. The serious face that she carried for those few moments soon melt into something akin of mischief at the mental message that blared through her brain like an alarm on a ship. The smile soon fades into something of warmth; Jean showing the water-folk due respect with a slight bow of her head, arms returning to the small of her back as she takes a slight step back.. once more.. and turning with an about face.

Emma just got the Xavier treatment!

"It was good meeting you too. And I do hope to see you both.. no, all.." She gestures towards the sea at large, "..in good spirits and future joint endeavors."

Cause surely, you wouldn't muck this up, right Frost?

With those last words spoken, she heads to the boat, waiting for her forced 'companion' to join her.


~ I am going to melt your brain into porridge and feed it to the dogs, Grey. ~

Emma Grace Frost is not amused. But she shows nothing of her fury outwardly. It is none of anyone else's business. She knows, the guilty party knows, and nothing else is needed. "Contact us in one week. By that time, if we do not have the location secured, we will have a workable timeframe for when that effort will be complete." Emma offers the sea folk, with a slightly - so very slight - inclination of her head in acknowledgement. "Have a pleasant day." With that, the platinum blonde in white about-faces and marches sharply back board the boat, her ice blue eyes promising cold-hearted torture and murder.

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