On the rare occassion Shula Nasser chose to take on roles that were quite frankly beneath her, it was never to maintain an image. In fact her image was anything but that of a woman who took roles beneath her station. So one always knew it was something special.

In this case, it was clothes. Not those things you pull off a rack, not that suit that fits you just enough to be passable, but real clothes. That was her sincere hope, at the very least.

Shula strode into the room they had so helpfully marked with paper signs sell-o taped to the walls. The door was open, and the room rather large for New York. Rather less majestic than one was used to, though it was in an educational facilitie. It seemed like it would be more at home on the Titanic. Present day Titanic.

Ms. Nasser's hopes, also rather like the Titanic, sank. Not that she had much hope to start with. The calibre of talent in the room was mean at best. Shula was an eagle among starlings. Contempt boiled within, and a feeling of being ill-at ease set in. It was a familiar sensation, one she hardly noticed, though it drove her every move.

While shula was no fashion designer, neither were some of those whose work was being showcased. A select few were above average, less still truly exceptional. A single exceptional student attempted to lure her closer. What she had in the way of fashion was certainly balanced out with her skills in advertising.

A disappointed and disdainful Shula continued past her with hardly a second glance. The next had nothing of interest. Ms. Nasser came at last to be standing before a blonde twenty-something girl, who's main feature, aside from at the very least good work, was a stylish and very much co-ordinated outfit. It brought on a spike in Shula's enthusiasm.

Shula looked for some form of identification, she found some. "Ms. Quinn, is it? How are you? I'm Shula nasser, pleased to make your aquaintance. Please, do tell me more about your work."

Boy this was nerve wracking! Kealey Quinn wrung her hands as she paced back and forth, there were simply too many nervous people in the room! It was a horrible environment for an empath, and this was apparently a super important occasion.

After the mess with everyone turning into kids, and the mild fallout from all that, Keaely’d had to scramble to finish her display for this “networking” event. It was her senior year at FIT, and apparently everything was about getting to know people in the business. Knowing the right people got you those crucial first customers, knowing the right people got you that crucial first job. It didn’t seem to matter to anyone at the school that Kealey made all the uniforms for the X-Men. That was a niche and it didn’t have anything to do with senior portfolios or graduation requirements.

Yeah. The last week had been stressful.

Something had come together though, and today found Kealey pacing in front of her display. People had seemed interested, but the blond wasn’t sure if it was out of polite curiosity or genuine admiration of her work. New emotions filtered through the room, and Kealey found herself mentally shying away from them before she could even find the source.

This person was a critic, that was for sure. Everything she was seeing, experiencing, or interacting with was met with what had to be disdain, and it was coming closer. And closer. And closer.

A voice rang out, and Kealey turned, mild surprise coloring her features at the person who emanated such strong emotions. They were all still there…but there was something else now that was even more shocking than the rest. Was that interest?

”Of course…” Kealey said, recovering from her momentary hesitation in favor of doing what she was supposed to.

”Everything I make is supposed to be about form and function.” she said, gesturing at the clothes she’d laid out and put on dressing dummies. ”From casual things to business wear. People don’t just sit around all day…they want to look pretty, but they also want to wear clothes that are comfortable and functional too.”

It was her spiel. It was what she was supposed to say…and it was the truth, something that had carried over from her work with the X-Men. Yeah, it was great to look intimidating…but a person liked to feel good too.

The woman hesitated. That was the usual responce, so Shula was hardly surprised. She would have put it down to nerves, but nerves weren't something she had truly felt in a long time, so the thought hadn't even begun to cross her mind.

”Everything I make is supposed to be about form and function."

Shula politely looked the way she was directed. It was true that all the clothes looked good, and quite fashionable. How they held up on function, well one had to wear something to truly judge that.

"From casual things to business wear. People don’t just sit around all day…they want to look pretty, but they also want to wear clothes that are comfortable and functional too.”

It had the feel of a pre-recorded message, which was good. To the average consumer it gave the sense of being organised and prepared, to Shula, it told her the woman knew how to behave as a proffesional. A smile, slight as it was, crept its way onto her features.

Shula was aware, suddenly, that she liked this woman, despite having known her only a moment. There was somehing about her that told Shula that, at least on some level, they would be proffesionally compatible. Gut instinct like this was important to listen to, in Shula's experience. "You sell your work well Ms. Quinn, though it is more than up to the task itself. Tell me, what other work have you done? Do you have a portfolio on hand?"

Shula already knew she did, they always did, she was more interested in her previous work. Some people had bad habits of leaving things out of their portfolio that they would not leave out when discussing the matter.

Shula's hopes for this girl were rising, and with that her contempt for the others in the room was dropping, out of nothing more than the fact Shula was starting to forget those people even existed. For once, she was glad she had come to one of these events.

Kealey simply gave a slow nod in acknowledgement of the compliment she had been paid. This woman did not seem like someone who would appreciate being interrupted. She was interested though, that much the blond could tell from her emotions. There was something else there too now, besides all the intimidating feelings. Was it legitimate interest?

Kealey was intrigued and she nodded her head, grabbing her portfolio as the prospective client finished her statement.

”Some of it might look a little avant garde.” she prefaced, ”I took a contract with the X-Men to design their uniforms. The more practical everyday clothing is near the back as well as some mock ups for evening gowns and a wedding dress.” Kealey didn’t elaborate on the personal details. Just like she’d known that this woman wouldn’t appreciate interruptions, the empath figured that the personal stories behind her designs weren’t important either.

Even if the preliminary dress designs were for her own wedding dress.

Shula accepted the portfolio with a smile and nod of thanks. She stood in silence for a few minutes, inspecting every page. The work with the X-men was a welcome surprise. Though likely to have turned others off her in some circles, it told Shula this woman had no qualms working with mutants. This was good.

Shula had seen enough from the portfolio well before she had reached the end. The work was good, the designs well documented and annotated. The final few pages she looked through only out of personal interest in the fashion than proffesional interest in the woman, her mind was more than made up, and what with Armani not returning their calls at the time, she was willing to give an unknown designer the job.

"Ms. Quinn, your portfolio is quite impressive, and your work with the X-men, especially in consideration to their individual needs, makes me very hopeful for your future in the industry." Ms. Nasser smiled, more conciously this time, and more obviously. She was happy to have found someone she could tell so early on would work, and hadn't had to settle for one of the talented but far less proffesional designers they had been interviewing all week.

" I must admit I had made up my mind well before finishing looking through your portfolio. Ms. Quinn I am the Chief Operating Officer of All Purpose Construction International. We will be running an advertising campaign, starting in the new financial year, leading up to our annual showcase and bussiness convention." Which was coming together all to slowly for her liking.

Shula shook off the brief resurfacing of the frustration the project had so far been causing her and continued. "We have spent several months looking for a designer for the project, which I have been taking a keen interest in, after all, I will be wearing their work at the convention. It is my belief that you would be perfect for the job." It was not often shula handed out job offers without several levels of interviews, however she had a feeling about this woman, and those feelings hadn't failed her yet.

Ms. Nasser reached into her handbag purse for a moment and retrieved her bussiness card. It was simple, the company logo, white background, her name, office phone number, bussiness mobile number, work email and fax number. The company logo, at least, aught to be familiar, almost every construction job in New York was being handled by APCI or a subdivision of them. They hadn't quite secured the monopoly though. "Please, take my card. Now are there any details you wish to have about the project?"

Shula Nasser, for a rare instance, was feeling secure and oblivious to anything but the part of the world her and and Ms. Quinn occupied. She could tell that she was at risk of perhaps liking the woman. It was not something she was used to.

Was this what it was like to have great deals of power and completely secure in your assertion of it? Kealey was pretty sure that had to be at least close, and to be honest it was a little invigorating too. It was wonderful to have all that confidence and security. There was something cold about the woman though, and Kealey had to admit, yet again, that she was intimidated.

Cold or not, the genuine praise was flattering and it was with pink cheeks that Kealey smiled.

The job offer came out of left field, and left the blond with her mouth half open as she stared at the smaller woman who was describing what the job would require. It wasn’t a runway gig, it wasn’t designing for a major fashion chain…but it was a start. A hell of a start, actually, considering the fact that someone high profile would be wearing her clothes…it was a foot in the door of the independently wealthy and highly selective.

Questions? Did she have any questions? Kealey had paid attention when they talked about interviews and she knew that it was bad when a person didn’t ask any.

”When can I get started?” she asked, ”And see what the advertising campaign is going to be about? I like to get a feel for the situation and the people before I start working on mock ups.” If they were going to jump in with both feet, Kealey refused to be found wanting.

Good, she knew interview technique, and her questions were absolutely relevant, and best of all, not about payment, because that always seemed to come up. It wasn't going to be huge, only a quarter of a million, but if she did a good job there was potential for a bonus or an offer of a more full time position, plus it meant having her name, however she chose to brand herself, attached to an international advertising campaign.

Shula felt good about this decision. "You may start as soon as you wish, Ms Quinn, I shall inform security that they will need to issue you a pass, there will be some paperwork, most of it simply security contracts to sign, I will have my secretary get the relevant job contract ready for you, I'm on the top level." Security would give her the elevator code for that level on the day it changed so often, and so randomly that Shula herself never knew until she asked.

Fools. I could defend myself better than any elevator code.

The second question was, if anything, easier to answer. "The theme will be bold, elegant, sustainable and practical. I know you will have no problem with that. There will be multiple levels to the campaign, one level is directed to the everyman, it will be in real estate magazines, television, advertising our residential sector, the main bulk of the campaign will be billboards, magazines such as Time, and will include a further set of television ads more focused on our innovation, and the third level will be aimed at corporations, for our large commercial buildings, skyscrapers and the such. This will feature advertisements in the major prints of our industry, as well as corporate mixers and press functions."

Shula knew she was going to get the same brief at least twice more, but it never hurt to hear something three times, at a moderate volume. "The models for the ads and convention, the executives at our press functions, the actors for the television ads, all shall be wearing your designs. You will answer only to the executive committee in charge of the campaign, who answer to me, so I will more than likely sit in on some of the meetings."

Ms. Nasser was happy with how the process was going, she texted her secretary to get all the forms sorted and to inform security that Ms. Quinn would require identification when she arrived at the building, then returned her attention briefly to the woman's portfolio. She flipped towards the back. "Now, tell me, this work for the X-men, you would have interacted with them of course? The one that seems to be their leader, with the eye-patch, is he that handsome in person?" Shula felt business could be over for now, there were important things to discuss!

Kealey nodded her head as her future employer spoke, committing as much as possible to memory so she could bring some rough sketches to the first meeting with the people working on the program. The blonde’s head spun as the laundry list of magazines, newspapers, and other forms of advertising medium were rattled off. This wasn’t just big. This was unbelievably huge.

There was security to be dealt with, and credentials to be made. The blond almost itched to be writing some of this down, but she had the basics. She needed to meet with security, get her paperwork in order, then meet with the executive committee.

Holy buckets, was she ready for all of this?

Supposing there was no other choice at this point, and realizing that if she messed this up the negative effects could be as huge as the positive ones, Kealey made the decision that she was simply going to have to do well. Her career depended on it. Realizing she’d missed most of the last sentence, Kealey tuned back in just in time to take the card from….Ms Nasser and hear her ask about Cold Steel.

The blond couldn’t help it. She laughed.

”I’m not sure if he’s half as handsome as he thinks he is, with or without the eyepatch.” she said good-naturedly. ”Then again, I probably shouldn’t be speaking that way about my boss.”

There was suddenly one thing that Kealey felt like she needed to share. This wasn’t a traditional interview, and Kealey knew that anti-mutant biased was slowly being overcome in New York, but still.

”I feel like I should tell you, before this goes any further…” she said with slight formality. ”That I’m an X-Man too, and I’m engaged to one. I don’t just do costumes…I’m kind of knee deep in the organization.” and proud of it too. If it was a problem for an employer…well Kealey would just have to find a new career.

”The good news is, if you want to see the eyepatch for yourself, I think I can easily arrange it.” she added with a tentative smile.

Shula laughed at the first comment. It felt foreign. "Are they ever?" The short answer was No, the long answer was HAHAHAHAAHAHA no. Oh, so the eyepatched vigilante was her boss, so that made this woman, and X-man. Well, that could be very useful. Ms.Quinn apparently felt the need to tell Shula too, either that or her mind was being controlled by another mutant who felt the need to tell Shula, either way, it didn't matter.

Shula nodded. "While I might not agree with everything the X-men do they have done more for mutants than any of the mutant criminals out there. I feel I should thank you for that, it has made my life a lot easier." Though this did pose an issue as far as certain indiscretions may be concerned, such as the man from the previous week, almost entirely encased in class, wherever the sewer had washed him.

"I would certainly like to meet your boss, with a proffesional life like mine it isn't often you come across decent looking men, mostly overweight balding ones who think too highly of themselves." Except Collins from H.R. but he was so uptight about rules that Shula knew it would not go anywhere. Pity, maybe his wife aught to disappear... No that still left the workplace conduct, and getting fired wasn't very condusive to a good relationship, however short it was intended to be.

"So which of the Uncanny X-men is your fiance?" there were a few decent males amongst the X-men as far as she could remember, the news liked to cover them every second day or so. "Not the pink haired one I imagine, it seems to be rumoured that he has a boyfriend." Which explains the hair colour, among other things... She refrained from saying it, she felt it may be inappropriate, gossip was all well and good but badmouthing people, not so much.

Oh my, this conversation was getting more and more interesting by the second. They'd gone from job offers and security clearance to good looking men and setting up a potential date for Sam.

"He's not the most discrete or humble man, but he's got a heart of gold." Kealey said, remembering a ride on the back of a motorcycle and a bet that was supposed to end with a kiss. It hadn't been meant to be, and everything had turned out how it was supposed to.

Who was her fiancé?

"No...not the pink haired boy." Kealey said, shaking her head and smiling slightly at the memory of her try out with Cafas. He had a boyfriend? That was interesting news, and Kealey marveled for a moment at how someone completely disconnected from the X-Men knew more about the personal lives of its members than she did...for shame team leader!

"Shin." Kealey said, then corrected herself, " Tetsuya Shinbo. Since February."

Oh my. If this whole employment thing worked out, that probably meant they'd have to invite Ms. Nasser to the wedding. Well, if worse came to worse, it would be an excellent opportunity for the woman to meet Sam.

Hearts of gold weren't really Shula's thing. Now if his heart had been made of a more useful substance, or perhaps a diamond, she would have an interest in it, but, well, emotions weren't her style. "Humble men don't tend to look half that good, though I accept that there is almost always an exception to every generalisation." For instance, multi millionaires tended to have people murdered, not actually get their own hands dirty.

So it wasn't the pink haired boy, good, she couldn't stand to see any more of him than she had to. Running around like he was invulnerable, cockily causing public mayhem in the name of justice and keeping the peace. Though at least he didn't seem to be quite as arrogant about people filming their little show downs as he used to be. Not that Shula particularly liked Maxine Ralls, but it had detracted from office productivity.

"Well then, congratulations. I wish you both the very best." Mostly because they were mutants. Shula was quite happy with her day's work, though it did seem like she had simply gotten very lucky. An X-man and a talented unheard of fashion designer who would accept significantly less money than the usual big names, not to mention she would give them the look of helping the unknowns, help take away the faceless corporation look.

"Leadership is of course going to be a big part of this project, if you have objections to others doing the sewing for you, because there is a lot of production to do, and not a great deal of time comparatively." Also a great deal of stress in the last couple of weeks, but leave the unpleasant times until the unpleasant times. "I would also like to apologise in advance for the board in charge of the project, they will be extremely critical, more so because they have not seen your work before. These people make Armani cry on occasion."

The blond chuckled at the turn the conversation had taken. "I can tell you from experience that there is." An exception to the rule, that was, and Kealey was pretty sure Shin counted. And looked good.
Inclining her head at the congratulations given by her new boss, she smiled. It was a side effect of thinking about her engagement that couldn't be helped, and Kealey simply shrugged her shoulders at the warning about the board.

"Trust me, if there's one thing I can take....it's criticism. I've got a knack for knowing when people like something." More than a knack.

"They may be able to make Armani cry, but he's not an empath."

Well she was right about one thing, Armani was not an empath. Shula smiled though, if this girl felt she could take critisism on that scale, more power to her. She was at the very least happy to know the girl had spirit, enough to believe she could stand before people worth millions and accept what they had to dish out. Shula laughed, just a touch, at Quinn's last statement. Funny story, far too long to tell now, but one she would hint at.

"An empath, no, that he is not, but between you and me, I've seen the man weave fabric from thin air and shape prototypes in seconds without moving so much as an eyelid. The man is a mutant, the style though, is all natural."

That wasn't half of what the man had learned to do in his seventy seven years, but the rest was a closely guarded secret, and much as Armani was honoured she had trusted him, Shula was honoured to have been trusted in return, so those secrets were safe.

"You never know, you may yet meet him, he'll be interested to see who we had replace him. Don't fret, he's never seemed angry about such a matter yet."

So logn as you ignored his initial reaction to the board deciding to take a new person, though he brought that upon himself and seemed to accept that fact.

Replace...Armani?

Kealey gaped. That was not what she'd expected to hear from her new employer. They wanted her to replace Armani.

Kealey took a moment to re-establish her equilibrium. Sometimes established designers were hard to work with because they were so set in their ways. Surely that was what had happened here. And he was a mutant?

Holy wow. This was a lot all of a sudden.

"I'd be honored." she said, deciding that it was probably time to get back down to business.

"So, first thing tomorrow I'll get in touch with security and work on the credentials. I'd like to get to work on designs as soon as possible."

Keen to get started and willing to jump through the hoops, Shula liked that, this girl was turning out to be an instant winner. that she was also a mutant helped immensely. " That is exactly what I like to hear, I have a feeling you will do tremendously well. Keep up that same enthusiasm for the work for the rest of your life and Quinn designs will be sold as timeless masterpieces well after the end of your life." It never hurt to bolster confidence, though, in an empath, as this girl implied she was, Shula would have to be particullarly careful about the nature of any lies, be they white or not. Though in all honesty it was true.

The beeping sound of Shula's work phone detonated through the room. Why on earth was it that loud? She must have knocked it off silent at some point. She drew out the phone, a latest model of some brand Ms Nasser cared nothing for because they made neither cloths, nor jewlerry, nor men, and certainly had not had bussiness with APCI. A button was pressed on the touchscreen, and the phone raised o her ear.

"I really don't see how that concerns me. No Carly, that particular request should be put through HR before you send it to me. The executive board has a vary busy schedule right now. Alright, it seems you have left me no choice." Ms Nasser hung up without a word more and dropped the phone into her bag. She was somewhat angry, partly dissapointed but mostly simply frustrated that her day was to be cut short. Still, HR couldn't be used in this case, sexual harrasment against the head of the department, her direct inferior.

"Sadly, duty calls. I am sure I will see you tomorrow Ms. Quinn. Best of luck with the rest of your day, if you are being assessed on this, I should very much hope they recognise talent when they see it." Shula smiled, bowed her head slightly in way of farewell, and proceeded to attend to her duties, though not before ensuring that any teachers knew how high her opinion of Ms. Quinn was as a designer and a proffesional.