Initial Masquerades & Eternally Iron Made

"There's a problem …something you need to know about."

He lifted his head, gaze coming to rest on his aunt as she closed the door to her office. She brought her hands to her throat, fingers playing over the buttons of her jacket as she met his look with one of her own. Apparently, her day of tormenting the innocent and ignorant was over. It was, almost, a blessing in disguise: his attention had strayed, eyes unfocused, and the pages of his textbook had long since blurred together. The harder he tried to read, the more distracted he became.

Genius he may be, Jase Frost was not a good student.

But he was well adapt at seeing the obvious and his aunt's somber expression, her unwavering silence … he frowned, "what's wrong?" Jase asked as he leaned back against the chair he had claimed as his own. While he saw her announcement as a welcome interruption, he wouldn't allow himself to believe that it was as serious as her actions indicated. He couldn't. Not until she told him what was going on.

The problem with his aunt? She was a pro at blowing minor situations out of proportion. She was infatuated with theatrics: trivial matters that turned into consequential bullshit the longer she had her hands on it. It could be nothing, mindless bullshit or it could be overly serious.

The other problem? Emma Frost was ruthless, a cold hearted and spoiled bitch that had no qualms against taking advantage to any – to every – situation. Her gain was the upmost importance and, as he had long since learned, she would do anything to get her way. It hardly helped that if something should happen that wasn't in her favor, she turned to Sebastian Shaw and he did whatever need be.

It was something that Jase had always been thankful for, because he really hated it when Emma pulled him into her drama.

As Jase watched her move around the office: pursed lips, troubled eyes, the tightness in shoulder …the lack of control to her composure and the sense of frenzy that stiffened her movements.

She gave a deep sigh, seemingly ignoring his question, “are you busy?”

He rolled his eyes and snarked, “why, is Sebastian?”

Emma snapped her fingers and a moment later, Jase yelped and flung himself from the chair; he slapped his hand over his thigh and squeezed gently as his now sore skin. “Are you busy?” She repeated herself, her voice held the same distain as one who had smelled something foul.

“I hate when you do that,” he seethed and rubbed his thigh again. At least he knew, now, to take her serious. But it was ...bizarre. It was rare that she ever came to him, directly to him, when something happened. Jase knew he should see it for what it probably really was: a sign of respect.

When it came to Emma, it was always the bare necessities: enough from her to acknowledge his position within the hierarchy. Because despite her taste for the extra flare, she wasn’t a stupid woman. And Emma? Emma would never waste his time without knowing that it would come with a repercussion -- family ties be damned.

“No, I'm not busy.” He closed his book with a soft thud and pushed it away as he repeated his question from before, “what’s wrong?”

Her heels clicked against the tile as she walked across the room, taking a seat at his side. She brushed one hand over his shoulder, as if she was going to pull him in for a hug. “This,” Emma waved her hand in a half circle, fingers curling as the TV on the far wall came to life. Jase caught a flash of the headline before the volume kicked in.

Voices spilled from the speakers, running over each other as they talked:


“What the fuck…” he leaned forward, out of her hold.

On screen, the lights flashed as it went from reporter to the next, each telling what had happened. Finally, CNN had someone step forward and start speaking, away from the chaos and hysteria.

”--during a weapons presentation in Afghanistan. Tony Stark was not among yesterday’s victims, leaving his current whereabouts unknown. His disappearance has led to the belief that it wasn’t just an attack on our troops, but targeting Stark himself. The Bagram search and rescue has been scouring the desert since late last night with the backing of Stark Industries. Obadiah Stane has refused to comment past saying that Stark Industries is at the military’s disposal as they see fit.”

His head spun as her words hit: Tony Stark was missing, presumably attacked; presumably dead. Jase leaned over, arms falling as he pressed down into his knees. There was a cool hand on the back of his neck and he realized he was shaking.

”There will be no further comments from Stark Industries until early afternoon, tomorrow. At that time, Stane will host a press conference to the public. We can only hope that it will provide an inside look of what the future will hold…”

His ears buzzed; he had known, he had heard the rumors. Everyone knew that Tony Stark was high across the board when it came to hit-lists. Everyone wanted a piece of the billionaire, yet he was, seemingly, untouchable. Save for one man: Obadiah Stane. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing and one of the few that was allowed close to the billionaire.

He felt justified in asking, “Did that son of a bitch do this?” His chest heaved; he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Oh, Jase had known it was only a matter of time before someone tried to step up to bat. It was easy to believe that Sane might have finally done something – he had the highest gain.

It was one of the largest gambles within the Hellfire: when would Stane show his true hand. “Did that son of a bitch do this?” He asked again, his voice louder than before.

“I don’t know,” Emma said softly, stroking her hand over his back.

“Turn it off,” Jase snapped, feeling the pit in his stomach grow. Emma muted the TV, but it wasn’t enough. He could still see Crystal Anders face, he could see her lips moving and the banner glowing on the bottom of the screen. “Turn it off, Emma!” He pushed back against her hand, glaring in her direction as he snagged his textbook and flung it with all his strength. The sound of book hitting screen was loud, TV shaking and falling from its position on the wall. The glass webbed out, surprise a fleeting presence on her face as it turned to static.

“I have no doubt that Stane will announce his new position as acting CEO tomorrow,” she spoke softly in a poor attempt of comfort. Emma was cold as ice, she didn’t know how to be warm and she didn’t know how to comfort. He didn’t appreciate her effort.

“Are you speculating or is that from your sources?”

She ignored him, “the list of those to be in attendance is immense, Jase.”

“Will you be attending?” Stupid question.

This time she placed her hand on his shoulder, “it would be wrong if I didn’t attend. Tony and Sebastian are friends within the public eye, it wouldn’t be kind to snub him in such a fashion. This is a serious matter, despite Stane taking it lightly. We can’t afford for him to notice our absence.”

“You think he’s behind this?” Jase clenched his fists, this time he hoped that with his change in words, she would answer him.

“Stane has always been … unpredictable.” The unsettling lit of her tone caused Jase to look at his aunt. Emma’s mask was firm in place, her only emotion hidden in her eyes. She was upset, despite hiding it. “He didn’t show the emotions one would if they had really lost someone precious. But, remember, I know your father. He’s a strong man and he’ll get through this, he’s gotten through much worse.”

“A weapon’s dealer in Afghanistan, what could he have gone through that was worse?” Emma didn’t seem to have an answer for him. Jase stood, “what’s going to happen?”

“I don’t know, Jase. There’s endless possibilities, but I think we should call the table together.”

“This isn’t …” He closed his eyes and her hand tightened as she pressed her lips to his cheek.

“Trust me.”