Junk 'N Stuff – the little nondescript pawnshop tucked in one of many numerous unassuming locations in New York, was a place with many descriptions to those who had been lucky to find it.
For some, it was simply a marvel wondershop. For some, a select minority, it was proof that their worst nightmares were at their doorstep. For some it was a new sensation. For others it was an open goldmine where the deed could be won in a lottery.
For those of the Hellfire Club who were most unfamiliar with the shop, the ends of the shop meant little to them, at least when compared to the means they could procure from it. To them, the true Elites, the ends and the means were a matter of situational preference.
In this situation, the reaction and compliance of the other groups were the focal point of their understanding of the shop.
Either the shop itself was responsible for the irregular treaty – though highly unlikely – or the owner was someone of expansive means, deep and wide enough to enforce whatever unspoken treaty these groups were working under. First it was a group of underground mutants that refused to reveal the source of the newfound cure and the other resources they benefited from it, then it was the X-Men and Magneto put under compliance, both of which came out of the shop with visible benefits and not a speck of violence. Then it was SHIELD, and it was at that moment that they all realized what was happening — An arms race. A potentially indiscriminate one.
It was a laughable prospect but one that was immensely profitable. The only issue was that they had no idea on how to turn it for a profit. If the passing trend was to be accepted, then they would have to visit the shop themselves. 'They' being the leaders of Hellfire Club.
All this was brought up and agreed upon on subsequent meetings after the initial one Shaw had called for. The number one objection was obviously the disgusted reaction when the idea of visiting a pawnshop in the slums of New York in person. No one appreciated the image of people of their magnitude being curdled into a wayside pawnshop to solicit for benefits.
What was left unsaid was that regardless of their objections and impassioned refusals, they would without a doubt personally visit the pawnshop themselves just for the sole reason of not falling behind their 'peers' when it came to the benefits they could acquire.
Knowing this, Shaw pressed on the issue even more until they all agreed, however reluctantly. One of his main reasons was that between him, Selene, Frost and Buckman, there was hardly any obstacle that they couldn't overcome. Normally, it would have been six of them – the Black and White King, Queen and Bishop – but with Pierce's falloff and Norman not yet integrated into the Inner Circle, only four of them were left.
Shaw also didn't mention that the reason he suggested something so strange – coming from him – was because of insurance against whatever happened to his underling. The others weren't stupid to not know this but the point remained that whether or not they wanted or liked it, Shaw and Selene would be visiting the shop together, so his reasons were much their excuse.
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...…..
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This being the agreed upon day, the four leaders of the Hellfire Club: Sebastian Shaw, Selene Gallio, Emma Frost and Edward Buckman all drove in a luxurious car down the seedy roads of Queens, with their aids occupying the car behind.
When they arrived, not exactly in a discreet fashion, they all paused in front of the entrance as if a good scrutiny of it would reveal something that was more than it showed. For Sebastian Shaw, Emma Frost and Selene Gallio, they were more focused on the phantom strange hum they could feel when they tried to probe any part of the shop, even the name sign.
Selene who was already familiar with the sensation, or lack of, pushed open the door and sauntered in. "Gentlemen."
Shaw and Buckman followed after her in full confident swagger, not a shred of hesitation, and while Emma emulated the same, her mind was filled with caution and general distrust.
She couldn't sense anything inside the shop, not even the vague and static expression of protected minds from the three ahead of her. The new information failed to put even the tiniest dent on the frigid mask over her face. Something like this was expected, however it was on the list of 'highly unlikely'.
Trinkets and baubles. Decorative pieces and articulate replicas. A con pretending to be a storied artist. That was what Emma thought when she caught sight of the mismatched and chaotically arranged items that looked as if they were trying their best to be noticeable.
That thought slowed for a bit when she saw a majestic diamond crown lying lazily on the top shelf. She knew her jewelry. She saw the way the light refracted off it. She did not stare, simply cataloging it as food for thought.
She heard Selene chuckle and soon found the reason. Not only her, but Shaw and Buckman too had their interest piqued when they read the writings on the wooden board.
—Acts of violence are not permitted inside the shop.
—Acts of violence against the Merchant are STRICTLY PROHIBITED.
—The Merchant has complete authority over the nature of punishment if any of the rules are broken.
Now this was interesting. And it also brokered the question of how they were going to deal with this so-called 'Merchant'.
None of them said anything but their stances slightly shifted. Two were smiling more openly, one snorted and one remained indifferent.
"Hello, welcome," her eyes grew colder, if that was even possible, but showed no reaction, only comforted by the belated reminder that her powers were not working.
Him. This was the 'Merchant' and there was no doubting it. As a psychic(currently probationary), she was intimately familiar with presence and his lack of presence settled his identity even more than his perfectly groomed appearance ever could.
His eyes moved from one person to another and finally settled on Selene, making his smile grow a tad bit wider. Emma's brain instantly cataloged the warning signals before it fired them off aimlessly.
"It's always a pleasure to see you again, Selene."
"Oh, trust me, Isaac. The pleasure is entirely mine." The Black Queen's laugh had a smoky cadence to it that drew in and unraveled the hearts of men. "While I would love nothing more than to squander your time, I came with some… associates, as you can see."
Isaac, the Merchant. They all noted that down in the same part of their mind that assigned timeframes to individual worth.
"Always a pleasure." The shopkeeper said with a small incline of his head. "To you, distinguished ladies and gentlemen, I'm Isaac, a Merchant, at your finest service."
"And what exactly are these services, Isaac?" Shaw interjected himself the moment contact was established, because of course he would.
A business man through and through. That was an obvious sentiment when it came to Shaw but it was a pleasant surprise when she got it more from the shopkeeper when he rolled up his sleeves and turned to Shaw.
"Everything and anything you might need, across a wide collection, with guaranteed authenticity… that is Junk 'N Stuff's ideal." A perfect sales pitch, they all noted, also that he played the ball back into their court. Ask – was the unspoken dare. Everything seemed to point towards confirmation.
"Anything, you say?" Buckman asked. "Like mutant cures?"
A lazy glance at Selene and Shaw told her what she already knew. No one was surprised that that was the first thing Buckman was interested in. His vapid hate for mutants was his sole personality trait.
"Of course," the smile with which the bespectacled man said it was half between exasperation and something else she couldn't understand. "For preface, I've been made aware of a slight misunderstanding concerning the topic of mutant cures. Yes, I do have numerous options for gene therapy, either for removal, suppression or enhancement. As for the method that started the misunderstanding, I simply just bought the X-gene and mutation of the involved parties. If you're asking specifically for ways to suppress or remove the X-gene then I have pills, serums, aerosols and devices that can do just that."
The three seconds of silence that followed was not used to understand what was just said. In the presence of profit vultures, their silence meant that they were calculating the quickest way to exploit, and of course profit.
"If you want, I have a catalog made expressly for the purpose of tailoring your purchases to your exact needs."
Buckman took the book before Shaw could interject. "Give me something fast acting and permanent." Buckman ordered as he opened the book and slowly started flipping through the pages.
—Quirk-Destroying Drug (My Hero Academia): A substance capable of damaging the genetic mechanisms that compose someone's Quirk, permanently erasing their superhuman abilities.
Created by Kai Chisaki (Overhaul) using biological material from a child named Eri, whose Quirk "Rewind" could revert living things to a previous state. Once it enters the bloodstream, it destroys the Quirk almost instantly by targeting the Quirk Factor—the biological mechanisms behind Quirk functioning and other preternatural abilities—and returning it to that of a baseline human pre-evolution.
*Under special circumstances, the rewind frame can be pushed even farther.
Price: $31,700,000.
Isaac placed a small box in view and opened it to show the small vial of red liquid sitting comfortably inside it.
Buckman took the box and closed it. "And you're certain this will work?"
"Certain." Isaac nodded. Emma did not know what really unsettled her in this setting. Whether it was Buckman potentially getting his hands on some real mutant 'cure' or the man who happily gave it to him with a service smile.
The price was also something to notice but it was currently the least important thing here.
"And how do you plan on taking payment?" Buckman asked.
Isaac shrugged. "Card, cash or barter with items. We can also go for a written contract if your valuables are not in hand. Though I'll warn you that such methods cost more and attract heavy-handed conditions along with special fees."
"And what is to stop someone from simply walking out without paying?" Buckman asked again to which Isaac simply pointed at the rule board behind them. "And what enforces it?"
"I do."
"Thoroughly?"
"Quite."
"You sell historical pieces." Those were the first words she'd spoken since their arrival. Her eyes were set on a piece of jewelry that gave her the feeling of teardrops during rainfall.
"I do. From different parts of the world. Worlds. A good majority of them aren't simply mundane pieces. They carry a specialty with them, and that's what makes them truly unique."
"Magic," she said. It wasn't the first time she'd heard or seen such a thing.
"Most of the time, yes." She wasn't that interested in magic but she also wouldn't speak out about what she wanted in her present company.
"If I may, Isaac," Shaw spoke, somehow putting himself at the forefront and directly in front of Isaac from behind the counter. Of course he would use this time to change the tempo of the setting. He most likely wanted to do it before Buckman ordered something but had been a second too late.
"How may I help you sir?"
"An employee of mine walked into your shop a little over a week ago and never walked out. I require an explanation, and pray I don't find it wanting."
The man remained relaxed and even leaned on his foot and tapped repeatedly on the side of his head and started muttering. "Hmm, a week ago… hmm, I think I remember. She had quite the mouth on her and even after I warned her on numerous occasions, she still tried to use her ability to attack me after everything. Maybe she didn't like the price or something."
He looked back at Shaw and gave him an assured nod. "Yeah, I know her. She broke the rules so I had to enforce it, a little bit different than last time if I'm being honest with myself."
She squinted at Shaw and wondered what exactly was his aim. They were here under the express agreement for cooperation and not escalation. Even if there was a reason to escalate, she knew Shaw well enough to know that he would never put himself in the position to do that and would instead pass it off to someone else to be the scapegoat.
"Will that be all?" That innocently inquisitive question let Emma know that something was about afoot.
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