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Sebastian Shaw ([personal profile] hellishfire) wrote in [community profile] atomickings2014-07-31 02:20 am

1962 - world domination without fucking is world domination not worth having

[It had been awhile since Shaw was in this consistent of a good mood for so many consecutive days. Not that he considers himself a dour man by any stretch of the imagination; he likes to attribute at least part of his resilience to his ability to roll with the punches and salute the whims of fate with both middle fingers held high. Still, he vastly prefers to get his way rather than mold an untenable situation to his advantage and he has never, ever gotten his way quite like he has after Cuba.

It's really fucking good to be king.]


Genosha is just the start, of course. An impressive start but one that's barely begun. Just think of what we can do as our influences grow and more brothers and sisters flock to our cause.

[He's never been one for pacing or any excessive movement that didn't have an exact cause and purpose. While always a bit... theatrical, Shaw does tend to be significantly less so when solely in Emma's presence. She's already been wooed to his side after all and there's no sense in trying to influence a telepath period, much less with carefully plotted (and wonderfully cathartic, if he's honest about it) melodramatics. Instead, he's standing at the impressive window of his impressive office looking down at his impressive island with a smirk that could out-Cheshire any kitty any day.]

The rest of the world hasn't even noticed. Never thought a nuclear holocaust would be something to be grateful about, but, well. [shrug] Here we are. Do you think - [He turns to Emma eagerly, all boyish excitement in his face.] This has to affect the birth rate of mutants all across the globe. Mutants strong enough to survive the radiation, breeding with more mutants down the road for even stronger children. It's glorious. And I didn't even plan this part!
icewhite: (pic#8115137)

[personal profile] icewhite 2014-08-01 12:06 am (UTC)(link)
[ Part of her truly loves Shaw being in a good mood. He's freely considerate of her when he is, despite being so entirely wrapped up in himself all she has to do is lean in to him and bat her pretty blue eyes and she can get whatever she wants, so long as she says please the way he likes. She knows well what he likes, and he, just as she does, enjoys power. He enjoys the control, enjoys the thrill of having everything beneath his fingertips.

Honestly, she'd thought he'd never be able to pull it off. Not without her by his side. But then he was there, of course, grinning that serpentine smile. "Emma, you wouldn't believe what's happened."

You never want to say that to a telepath. ]


It's phenomenal, dear. [ She's nursing a martini, ice-cold and only just shaken, her heels slipping off in her hands as she curls her legs beneath her. She watches him closely, watches the way in which he smiles. If she'd been more fond of him, she'd have thought it was cute.

She thinks it's cute nonetheless.

He speaks as if he's explaining such a grandiose, complicated plan. One of which Emma really needs no introduction, doesn't even particularly care to listen. She knows it backwards and forwards, practically fine-tuned the more complicated parts of his plan, and it's terribly cute that he's so shocked that it worked. It would have gone off better, had she been around, but that particular bitterness has already reared it's ugly head; she doesn't need to rehash it at the moment. Perhaps when she needs a new purse. ]


Of course, darling. Of course you didn't. [ Because she did. She knew fully well, nuclear radiation would force humanity to adapt faster in order to carry their species. Mutants in close proximity, a la Genosha, would be able to repopulate quicker, with a much higher rate of producing a mutant. She smiles at him, almost condescending in the face of his boyish excitement and wide grin on his lips. ] I'm so proud of you.
icewhite: (pic#8115130)

[personal profile] icewhite 2014-08-01 05:29 am (UTC)(link)
[ He's lucky she's forgiving, or at least that she's willing to shelf the things that she's angry at him for. It doesn't take long for the little girl - Angel, her name is - to be brought right back down to the dregs where she belongs, and so she can't be too angry that he's simply been too busy to grant her her freedom. She knows the plan was time sensitive.

It doesn't mean she can't take it out on him, later, when they're behind closed doors, where she can see her aggravation and aggression painted out in bruises on his skin as she runs a white leather over his skin. She's got her own ways of dealing with things. ]
There's no need to hide anymore, you're correct in that. The radiation of the United States and Russia is already starting to weed out the weak from the strong. [ she inspects her nails a moment and looks at him. ] Eventually, we'll need to grow. There's plenty of uncharted space on the island. We'll need to go recruiting soon.

[ She needs company, other than Charles Xavier and the Sunshine Gang. She needs pretty men and women to look at, new lovelies to manipulate into their cause.

It is somewhat charming to see him so pleased, so happy that everything is going so well for him. Part of her wants to continually ask what he expected from the situation - after all, they had succeeded. Did he expect anything less from them? Despite her own rather realistic view, she smiles once he offers his hand and takes it in kind, twirling in his arms over to the record player in the corner, turning on a bit of jazz, the strap on her little white dress sliding down her shoulder. ]


And just how do you want to celebrate, hm?
icewhite: (pic#8115135)

[personal profile] icewhite 2014-08-03 03:53 am (UTC)(link)
[ The dead one indeed. Emma has always prided herself on being able to hold her own, even from a terribly young age. She's stronger than most would think, particularly at first sight, and indeed, as Shaw would think, she's as flawless as perfect diamond. She's terribly intelligent as well, something she doesn't mind acknowledging, despite however she loves it whenever so many underestimate exactly, exactly what she can do.

She loves it, too. Loves the way he screams and moans, loves the way she can wreck him in every possible formation there could possibly be. She plays the role of Queen all too well. ]


Marvelous. Though I'm sure you'll be searching yourself sometime soon. Or sending me off. Please, do try to make it somewhere a bit more hospitable than Russia, will you?

[ Whenever he takes her in his hands, whenever he spins her in time to the easy-going jazz coming from the record player, she can't help but smile, delighted. He rather loves romancing her, in somewhat of an old-fashioned way, and she slides against him easily, dancing right against him and twirling in his arms. ]

Lovely. Should I get us a bottle of good champagne? [ She rather likes that idea -- it's been too long. A day feels too long without being able to have him, being able to tear out those moans from his throat like they were made for her. Shaw is one of the few she doesn't mind actually having sex with, one of the few she doesn't just simply cast an image of herself only to sit idly by and boredly drink champagne waiting for the gentleman to finish. She likes him.

It's a terrible thing, liking someone like Shaw. ]
icewhite: (pic#8115130)

[personal profile] icewhite 2014-08-04 05:51 am (UTC)(link)
[ She rather finds she doesn't mind being objectified, as long as it gives her the upper hand, and it does so often with Shaw that she doesn't mind in the slightest. She's perfectly fine being his White Queen, his right-hand woman, and often the intelligence behind his cruelty and resources.

Emma rather enjoys, however, when he truly worships her. When she can trust him to shine her boots with his tongue, when she can trust that he'll spend hours just laving over her body, tonguing every inch she allows. She loves the way he spoils her with wine and Ella Fitzgerald and Edith Piaf. She adores him, in some rather strange way that she doesn't quite understand nor desires to understand. ]


It was terribly drab when I visited. Never mind getting captured, no thanks to your little pet metalbender and telepath. [ She smiles, knowing she'll have a chance to see them get a rather worthy treatment for what they'd done in Russia, and beyond that entirely. ] Paris, perhaps, or Milan. Either sounds nice. London, too, for that matter.

[ She giggles, something high-pitched and not terribly genuine at the overplayed and terribly boring joke, wrapping his hands around her body, the straps of her dress falling easily over her arms as she teases against him. She's a terrible tease, constant in how she moves, and her eyes follow him as she pulls back, as she slowly undresses to the music, disappearing from the common room into the bedroom. It doesn't take long for the demure little princess act to fall away, before she's slid back on the bed and watches him with those ice blue eyes. ]

I do always know what you want. I don't have to be a mind reader to read you, darling. [ her voice is a seductive purr, blonde curls cascading behind her shoulders, her dress a dainty little thing to be tossed at him. ] Come here.
icewhite: (pic#8115131)

[personal profile] icewhite 2014-08-05 03:05 am (UTC)(link)
[ They have their own version of whatever such chemical imbalances might be. Their relationship is one that couldn't be quantified, classified as anything truly romantic - the word 'love' has ever so rarely left Emma's lips when it wasn't in regard to a pair of expensive shoes or a mink coat. She doesn't love Sebastian, she simply tolerates him moreso than most anyone else, and still desires him even after all of the horrible, terrible things he's done. Not that Emma finds such things distasteful.

She simply ignores it, most of the time, unless it's someone who deserves it. Then she watches with a gleeful eye, offers suggestions. She rather enjoys however whenever Shaw allows her to be at the top of the food chain; when Shaw gives over his hard-won control so that she can take him down a few notches, humiliate him until he's broken and begging to worship her entirely. ]


It's not a grudge, Sebastian. It's an irritation. A grudge would imply that I'm holding something against them, which is hardly the case. [ She flashes a winning smile, beaming at him. ] Greece is lovely this time of year, but I imagine you won't be going with me, will you? A shame, dear.

[ Dark lashes bat at him once he folds her dress and hangs it on the back of the chair, one arm coming up to rest behind her head, her legs spreading coyly as she presses her feet flat against the mattress. She's still got her stockings and heels on.

She rather likes fucking in high heels. ]
You love having me any way you can get me, dear. [ she coos at him, gently, moving her finger in a come hither motion for him to come closer, not willing to wait for him to undo his tie. besides. she could use that. ]