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Moment of Awesome - Emma Frost/The White Queen: An invitation to a Maggia engagement party is the perfect cover for the White Queen and her Knight to gather information. The fact that the Maggia’s cover was an engagement celebration had thwarted some of Emma’s more extravagant choices of outfit; even in the highest of societies it was considered absolutely crass to try and outshine the bride-to-be. So she’d reluctantly put aside a number of fabulous designs and instead was wearing a gown of the palest silver. It was almost decorous in appearance, except when she moved, when it became obvious the gown was sheer beneath the lights, and that Emma wasn’t wearing any particularly noticeable underwear. Except she would move again and then it wasn’t obvious at all that it was anything but a trick of the light, a suggestion whispered and withdrawn. In the circumstances, Emma decided, it would do. “We wield what weapons we must,” she murmured into Doug’s ear, her hand nestled in the crook of his elbow. “Including fashion.” "Words are weapons sharper than knives," Doug quoted, a low guitar riff flitting through his mind where Emma was connected to it. Most everyone Doug was close to could prompt a little musical sting to run through his head when he thought of them. Emma, of course, had more than a few that suited her. Given that this wasn't a Court event, he wasn't wearing his habitual all-white suit, but the color definitely featured prominently in his dinner jacket, along with a silver bowtie and vest to match his Queen. ::looking good friendos:: he dropped along his link to the nanites. Since he was out in society, among people who might remember discrepancies when they saw him at another function, tonight would be his first test drive of his new hand in 'looking normal' mode. With Emma close by, any lapses could be covered up, and the stakes were relatively low since they were guests and the focus would largely be elsewhere. “But a good stiletto on the right throat…” Emma sighed to Doug, adding in a mental picture of her foot, dagger-edged heel resting in the notch in the throat of an anonymous muscled man. Then, “Darling! Giovanni! You look splendid,” she trilled, leaning forward, flawless skin nearly brushing the cheek of the man in front of her, air kissing once twice three times as nimble, diamond-tipped fingers dropped a bug into the man’s trouser pocket. “I haven’t seen you in such an age.” Whatever the response was, it was lost behind them as Emma and Doug continued to move through the crowd with the fluid grace of hunting sharks.