|Marvel: In the Beginning...|
The study is, not surprisingly, usually the most quiet room in the house, and usually only Erik, Raven, and Amelia make use of it without prior permission or invitation. Erik moves in, draping his jacket over the back of a chair and unbuttoning the sleeves of his shirt to roll them up a bit. He moves to a nearby drawing table that has a partially-finished blueprint on it, and begins continuing the design without further ado.
"I have the suspicion that the children believe that it's their behavior that we're going to discuss." Utilizing a preamble to her words, Amelia steps into the study after Erik with only a moment's pause to ensure that the door is closed behind her carefully with one hand. It's the other which is possessed of a fine mist, a card coming into existence where there was nothing seconds before. "Do you remember the Irishman that Jeremy and Sasha were telling us about, Erik," comes the inquiry, stepping towards the drawing table as she speaks. If she takes note of the plans, she doesn't make any secret of such actions. Not while the card is held blatantly within her grasp.
She's likely already know that the blueprints are being drafted for a new headquarters. Another major "hub" this time closer to the city and within the United States. "I recall it just being mentioned, yes." Erik notes, still sketching away with one hand, but holding out the other for the card in question. "What of him?"
The card has the man's name and number. It's a base for what searching Amelia has in mind, handing over the card into the waiting hand with another glance at the plans. Leaning forward onto the edge with both hands once able, she continues easily, "Apparently, he wants to know if 'Magneto' would mind him using photos of him. All related to a pro-mutant art gallery. Jeremy says that Iain has one in the UK and thinks he wants to to the same here, likely in New York City. Though..." With a hint of a smile, the woman notes, "I'd like to see what he's already done."
Erik examines the card a moment or two, committing the pertinent details to memory before handing it back towards her, "I wonder where he intends to find his source material given there are few photographs of me to be found, much less in the public domain?" He considers a moment, and after finishing off a section of the blueprint design he sets his pencil down and looks towards Amelia, "But it may be worth seeing his work. Art breeds critical thought. Critical thought breeds ideas. Ideas breed change." He notes, then queries, "Do you know where his overseas gallery is located? Or should we approach the man himself and let him give us a guided tour?"
"The prospect of surprising him might us an advantage," Amelia replies, accepting the card back into her waiting fingers before it makes another disappearing act to settle atop papers in her quarters. "Given what we've been told about him, he seems very certain of himself, his views and what he wants to do. Is that only when he wants to make an impression or is it a constant? That alone, will also tell us what kind of asset he'll be to the cause." All show and no substance? Or something entirely different? "Then again, I enjoy putting people off center when possible. Not, that this should surprise you," comes the retort, pushing herself away from the table - without disturbing the blueprints.
A faint smile flits across Erik's face, "It does not. It allows you a position of power...an advantage in your dealings with them." He flips the now-finished page of blueprints over, leaving a blank page before him. Many people would likely do this work on a computer, but Erik does have a penchant for being "hands on" at times. Besides, the way -he- builds things, computers are of limited value in the construction process. Hand-drawing these layouts and designs help him commit them to memory for when "final construction" begins. "What else have you heard about this Irishman?"
Amelia presses her lips together to that inquiry, letting it be displayed fully across her features what thoughts she holds on that matter. "Far too little. He would be a good match for the Brotherhood, in terms of his beliefs. But can he see beyond himself to the bigger picture? We can't have people running off half-cocked for their own interests and neglecting our own." Something, she hadn't voiced until now with more than a slight sourness to her voice. "If you want, I can take an early trip overseas. See what I can find out before he's aware of who I am. Then again... he may be here. It'll require some delving into. I may ask Sasha to assist, if she can keep my identity secret."
"I get the impression there's more on your mind than simply this gentleman's level of commitment." Erik turns and faces Amelia now, tilting his head a bit curiously, "You have thoughts on some of our recruits of late?"
"They're all eager, young, opinionated and seeking glory for themselves." Pausing with a hint of challenge by a tilt of her head, Amelia counters, "Do you want me to go on? Because, I could." Letting those statements linger between them, she lifts both arms to fold against her while regarding him from the other side of the table. "On the other hand, they -do- show potential. It's just a matter of whether or not they'll come to realize it. Then again, Raven should have her hands full with this bunch," she notes wryly, amused for that much alone.
"In case you hadn't noticed, Amelia, I'm hardly one to avoid the spotlight myself." Erik notes with wry amusement, "But you are welcome to continue. You know that your opinions are of value to me." He adds, "And who says it's simply Raven that will have her hands full?" Another faint ripple of amusement from him. "They do need some steadying influence, though, of that there is little doubt."
"You have the overall cause in mind," Amelia points out, lifting one finger from its place against her arm to nearly waggle at him but stops midways. "And I'd have to be blind not to know that you find an enjoyment in your abilities. Even I do." Beat. Make that a longer pause as the implications settle into her thoughts. "Are you suggesting that I turn into something of a den mother to them," she asks, voice turning incredulous by just a smidgeon as her gaze settles on him. Really. "We both know that's going to end badly, Erik."
"I don't know that I'd go -that- far. But Raven is far too mercurial...no pun intended...and I cannot always devote the time and attention needed to each individual recruit." Erik moves over, reaching up and briefly brushing a hand over Amelia's cheek, "And while your icy exterior may be something that cows the children, you and I both know it for the facade that it is. Your fires may burn deep Amelia, but they are not yet fully extinguished, I should think." He lets the hand drop, "But no, I don't want you to -baby- them. Observe them, advise them. Find their weak points and help them overcome them if you can. Raven will see them as tools. You...you I need to see them as people."
What can Amelia say to the majority of that? Quite likely nothing at all, allowing her gaze to briefly meet his with a rueful expression. Something that doesn't last too long, given the brush of his hand and the shifting of such to something more pensive as she takes a step back slowly. "You know that I'll endeavor to do exactly that." Affirming that, she finally turns to head out of the room by more mundane means than transubstantiation. "Good evening, Erik."