Tandy Wellforde

After the presidential Mutant Apprehension Memo the X-Men had been defeated by swarms of sentinels, the school destroyed, everyone fleeing, been killed, or captured. You, Emma Frost a mutant with telepathic powers, barely manage to escape. Since then, you’d been on the run without contact with the rest of your teammates they may have escaped.

You had been trying to survive and to link up with the other X-Men to form a plan, but the sentinels had found you near one of your estate properties. Surrounded, the approaching sentinel came to a stop, a redheaded woman in a sharp business suit threaded her way through the wall of automatons. Messenger’s bag hanging from her shoulder, she squared up in front of the sentinels, facing you with a smug smirk.

“Oh, Emma, such a look,” Tandy crooned, “One would think you blamed me for all of this.” She stopped in front of the kneeling White Queen, grinning down at her.

“Whyever would I think that?” you growled, simmering, “You smug Nazi cow.”

As this happened, Tandy pinched your chin between her thumb and forefinger.

“As much as you tried to paint me with that brush during our debate,” she cooed, “I’m not a murderer, honey. I don’t want to kill mutants. I never did.”

You jerked her face from the woman’s hand, glaring daggers at her.

It was just as well. Tandy needed both hands to open the messenger’s bag and lift the flap. Reaching inside, she felt around until she produced another power inhibiting collar.

“What I do want,” she drummed her fingers on the collar, “What I’ve wanted for months, actually, is to be the one who gets to put the safety collar on that pretty, swan-like neck of yours.”