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Chapter 110: It's jover
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"Your company would have a vested interest in protecting its 'assets' from accountability if they made mistakes, leading to greater mistakes, to corruption, to them going utterly astray. All for profit."
Adam blinked. He looked at Ororo; really looked at her.
His gaze was so sudden and intense it was less an observation and more an appraisal, scanning her from the windswept crown of her white hair to the set of her shoulders.
It made her feel strangely self-conscious.
"What?" She asked, a defensive edge in her tone, feeling as if she were being judged and found… Interesting.
Adam shook his head slowly, a genuine expression of wonder on his face. "How did I not see it before?" He murmured.
He wasn't looking down on her; he was looking at her as if she'd just revealed a hidden masterpiece.
"You're gorgeous. Exquisite. And the white hair… like mine, almost better. So elegant. Was I blind? But you're right. About everything. That is exactly what would happen. Normally."
His smile returned, beautiful and terrifying in its confidence. "But I'm not 'normally.' That's unlikely to happen, because of I. And if it does, I'll be there to stop it."
"My goal isn't merely money, Ororo. It's resources. Influence. Concentrated power. My goal is change and progress."
"So I can carve out a real place for mutants in this world that doesn't involve hiding in basements or a cell awaiting agonizing pain."
"So we can help the world prepare for the real threats coming down the pipe. That, and a few more… personal projects."
He took a bite of his burrito, his tone shifting to dismissive warmth. "However, my dear. Don't worry your majestic head. You aren't the target audience. You aren't needed."
"You have the Professor as a backer. And trust me, I understand just how great of a sugar daddy he can be. Five stars. You all don't need the money."
"This is more for the superheroes who do; the ones living in vans, the ones with medical bills from fighting endlessly, the ones whose powers wreck their day jobs. I have to start small."
He waved his burrito. "Now, let's not discuss such heavy subjects. Finish your food. I spent an ungodly amount of time on these burritos."
"Believe it or not, but I served it to God in my dreams, and he said some of the most eloquent shit. It broadened my mind."
"He said that the guacamole is a transcendent emulsion of Hass avocado souls and lime juice tears, the salsa is a symphony of murdered tomatoes screaming in garlicky ecstasy, and the tortilla is a sun-kissed shroud woven by a blind nun on a caffeine binge. It's art you chew."
He took another huge bite, grinning.
Ororo was left in stunned silence, her argument utterly derailed. From his intense gaze, she'd expected debate, deflection, anger.
Not a river of bizarre, flattering observations followed by a culinary horror-poem apparently spoken by God.
It was as if her intelligence had finally made him register her as more than background scenery, and his response was to compliment her to death.
She felt a completely involuntary blush warm her cheeks. She was Storm, a leader. Yet Adam Cypher's chaotic whiplash had breached her defenses.
"What?" Adam mumbled through a mouthful, noticing everyone staring at him. He swallowed. "Did I say something wrong?"
[Imagine Charles listening to being referred to as a sugar daddy... Yeah.]
[He's doing it on purpose! I'm sure of it, he's even going after Ororo! Fuck u!]
[If only it were that innocent, sometimes I feel like Adam treats everyone like they're NPCs until proven otherwise, and she had just proven otherwise, and he finally started looking at her.]
[She's worth being looked at, like, I'm looking.]
[Now that you say it, Adam does treat the world as a big funny circus. Quite dark if you think about it.]
[Ororo's blushing! The unflappable Storm is flapped!]
"Yeah," Domino said with a snort. "You're weird." She then leaned forward, her interest sharp. "But this superhero agency. Tell me more. You're talking branding, merch, the whole show."
Adam looked at her, surprised. "You're interested? I thought you didn't care for money."
"I don't," Domino said, a wicked smile on her lips. "But I care for fame. It's your fault. You pumped me full of your infectious disease."
"Now I also want to experience being a celebrity. Have my face on a billboard. 'Miss Fortune,' saving the day. Perfect, no?"
Adam's smile bloomed into something radiant and proud. "Music," He said softly. "That's music to my ears." Completely ignoring her out-of-pocket description.
The picnic continued. They talked of superhero logistics, of Hydra's suffering, and prayed for their swift reco... Demise.
Then Adam showed off a few of his newest miniaturized tech toys to a fascinated Nightcrawler and Iceman.
Eventually, as the cops finally corralled the robbers after Jean gently lowered them, the Blackbird carried them away, Adam leaving the crowd with a last wave of goodbye.
Only then did the crowd disperse, and the literal news helicopters nearby left too. Having a picnic on what they perceive to be thin air is certainly worthwhile news, and it will definitely make headlines.
They dropped Adam, Anna, and Domino off close to his actual destination. "What a lovely day," Adam sighed, brushing invisible dust from his pristine white suit.
He stood before a towering, opulent mansion at 840 Fifth Avenue, one of the most exclusive addresses in Manhattan.
The fact that they had just appeared out of thin air drew no attention because a figure was already waiting for them at the grand entrance, her presence bending the perception of passersby.
Emma Frost. The White Queen of the Hellfire Club. She was a vision in a stark, impeccably tailored white pantsuit that seemed carved from Arctic ice, her platinum blonde hair a frozen cascade.
Diamond studs glittered at her ears, and her ice-blue eyes missed nothing.
Adam's smile was warm. He walked up, opening his arms. "Emma. I must say, you do look like a queen. How have you been?"
She stepped into the embrace, a deep, lingering hug that spoke of familiarity and possession.
"Never better, darling," She purred into his ear. "You are, without question, my most successful investment."
She pulled back, holding him at arm's length, her gaze raking over him, as if admiring him.
The conference was masterful. She felt lucky she got to have some shares in his company, although minor.
It was delightful when investments hit big. But most importantly, his performance on that stage was truly captivating. So brilliant. So charming.
She was pragmatic. Adam was intelligence, charisma, power, and beautiful chaos personified.
He checked every box on her internal ledger. What she felt wasn't love; it was a covetous, calculating fascination, a desire to own and shape this magnificent, unpredictable variable.
She kept the possessiveness veiled, but it simmered just below her cool, unshakeable surface.
As the hug ended, her hands came up, not letting go. They cupped his face, her thumbs brushing his cheekbones, then trailed through his stark white hair. Her scrutiny was intimate, clinical.
"I saw it on the stream," She murmured, "But in person… It's obvious. You've become more."
"In fact, Handsome is an understatement. And this hair… perfection. It feels better than mine. What's your secret? Whatever cocktail you've taken, I want it."
[EMMA FROST IS SIMPING!]
[She's assessing him like a priceless statue she wants in her collection.]
[Damn, she noticed the effects of his vampirism instantly, to be fair, though, he did become more handsome.]
[The power couple vibes are off the charts, is what I would say had the two not been so fucking anti-love-brained.]
[Yeah, I've noticed. They're the fucking same. So annoying.]
[Already available on Polymarket! Does Emma become a vampire? Bet now!]
[Tf?] [...] [It's happening guys.] [It's jover!] [???]
[I'm hooked, I'm taking that bet! You should too!]
[Guys, don't fall for it! He's a paid actor! Do not bet! Do not gamble!]
[Guys! I'm not paid. I just love gambling! Always gamble!]
Adam's smile was pure, narcissistic pleasure. "Trade secrets, my dear Emma. We can discuss it later." He smoothly extracted himself and introduced Domino and Anna.
Emma gave them a brief, polite nod, her attention snapping back to Adam like a magnet.
She fussed with the lapel of his white suit. "You've made my day significantly better just by standing here. So yes, we have much to discuss tonight."
Adam raised a brow, a retort forming, but Anna beat him to it.
"Are ya gonna keep us standin' at the gate all day, ya stupid nympho?" Rogue grumbled, her arms crossed.
Emma merely chuckled, unoffended. "Indeed. For treasures, I am an absolute nymphomaniac."
Adam's expression went oddly thoughtful for a second, then he nodded. "Makes sense. I am the Treasure."
He burst out laughing, and after a beat, Emma joined him, Anna and Domino rolling their eyes at the two narcissists. Adam took Anna's hand. "Lead on, Emma."
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[ 1000 Power Stones For An Extra Chapter! ]
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