[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/mvCBHjI.jpg[/img][/center] [color=gray][right][sub][color=white][b]Emma Frost[/b][/color] - [i]NPC[/i], [b]Kate Pryde[/b] - [@Abillioncats] [b]Location: Krakoa's Western Shore, in sight of the [i]Marauder[/i][/b][/sub][/right][/color] Emma’s radiant smile could have lit up a red carpet, it could charm any number of type of man and woman, it could win over even the coldest boardrooms. It could put a warmth and welcoming ease into Kate Pryde, as her right hand lifted and hand was held out, fingernails a perfect manicured French tip. Kate seemed to accept it, and hand Emma the bottle. The smile was gone in a beat of their hearts, the bottle now in Emma’s hand held upside down, as it’s remaining contents drained onto the mix of grass and sand below, held out carefully as not to get a drop on her shoes. “Kate, you worry about some of the silliest shit.” The words were spoken low, in a rare unguarded moment from the blonde billionaire, with a vocabulary she rarely lowered herself to. That it was Emma greeting Kate, when it was Kate who welcomed Emma to the X-Men with a punch to the face and the threat of murder, held a certain poetic irony. In a more literal way, Emma was glad to be past it, as she was glad to toss the empty bottle behind them. “Do forgive my transgression, Krakoa.” The island, or one of the mutants upon it, would find some use for the bottle. Of that, Emma was certain. The wind played at the hair of both women, standing upon the edge of the western shore of the island. Darkness and stars and the constant drum of waves was left at their backs as Emma turned back towards the interior of the island, beckoning Kate to follow. “You should know Krakoa isn’t doing it on purpose. The island has no idea why you can’t move through the gates, according to Douglas Ramsay.” And, it went without saying, there was no greater authority on the thoughts of the living island than Ramsay. The former (current?) New Mutant had been as vital to their efforts as Emma herself, but in Kate’s situation he had been frustratingly little help. “Still, Ms. Pryde, this is an opportunity.” The light of the moon darkened away as the pair walked further into the trees along a path that looked well-worn into the surroundings. “Every challenge is an opportunity in disguise, my father used to tell us children, intent on dynasty and empire building. This is not the empire he had in mind, but it is the one I have dedicated myself to.” A shrug, as silence engulfed them along their walk. For a woman wearing high heeled pumps, she moved with the precision and ease of a survivalist through the wilds coast of Krakoa. Without announcing her intent, she led them back towards the west, down a different, to a different part of the shore. There was no beach here, only cliff. Grassy like before, but taller, standing well over fifty feet from the waterline that crashed with thunderous wave after thunderous wave, a lone bright spot in the blackwater of the little bay that lay before them. The yacht was large, white, and stretched well over a hundred feet in length from stem to stern, it’s railings and sides alive with a cold, blue, light. “This is the Marauder, taken from an anti-mutant billionaire unfortunate enough to land himself on my bad side in every way imaginable,” Emma said, launching straight at her point as if she would launch herself straight at a victim in the world of business, “Instead of wallow, drunk, at your misfortunate, Ms. Pryde, I would have you captain this vessel. I would have you track down unsanctioned black market shipments of our Krakoan drugs, I would have you rescue mutants trapped in unfriendly nations when they wish to come to Krakoa. I would name you a member of the Hellfire Trading Company, have you establish a crew, and do the work that must be done by someone who is an expert at infiltration and exfiltration.” Swift as the wind once again whipping their hair, Emma’s blue eyes caught Kate’s brown eyes, “What say you, Kate Pryde? Ready to do your part for your new nation?”