Lexi's Note: Real life kinda bit me in the ass, I apologize for the lateness. This is the second of the flashback chapters, I'll do my best to bracket them with "real time" so the flashbacks are less jarring.
May 25, 2009
The Office of Dr Asgari Kapatī - Manhattan, New York
1:04PM
Sitting on the large mahogany and leather sofa, Emma stares at the white marble chess piece in her hands. The sound of the large wooden door opening causes her to look up as Doctor Kapatī enters the room, clad in her usual dark-colored blouse and black pencil skirt with her long ebony hair pulled into a bun. A gentle smile forms on the lips of the Indian woman and then her dark eyes flit to the chess piece in Emma's hands. For the briefest of moments, Emma sees a flicker of something… dark… in that smile and then it's gone again.
"Hello, Miss Frost." Closing the door behind her, Asgari seats herself in her usual wingback chair, her dark eyes peering over the tops of her glasses at the young blonde sitting quietly on the couch. Emma glances back to the cool, sculpted marble in her hands before meeting her therapist's eyes once more. "I see you have made a bit of a change since the previous instance we shared."
Instinctively, Emma's left hand goes to her jaw where the fringe framing her face falls. Unable to keep eye contact, her gaze drops to where she grips the chess piece tightly in her right hand, as if it were a security blanket. "…yes. I felt I need something a bit more… this season."
Without missing a beat, as has become the norm at these little sessions of theirs, the older woman counters Emma's snark with a calculated verbal jab of her own. "Would you like to continue from our previous session? Perhaps the next time you interacted with Miss Grey?"
Flinching, Emma's gaze wanders away from her hand but she refuses to meet Kapatī's eyes. Instead, her attention is drawn to the small black cat resting on the massive mahogany desk near the office's window. Is it new, Emma wonders to herself? She's sure she would have noticed it there before. Then again, given the view of Midtown Manhattan outside the window… perhaps not. The small onyx cat is curled on the blotter on the desk, its chest rising and falling as it sleeps fitfully.
Shaking her head a little, Emma pulls herself from her reflecting, turning back to the woman sitting across from her. "Umm… well, it was the first day of classes…"
September 1, 2008
The Xavier School for the Gifted - Salem Center, New York
Stepping out of the back of the family limousine, Emma blinks against the bright morning sun and pulls her sunglasses down off her forehead to cover her eyes. Around her, she can hear the whispers of the other students… and the thoughts they don't dare give voice to. Staring out through the silver lenses of her sunglasses at the teens and children who are eyeing her in return, Emma reaches up and flips her hair off her shoulder. She glances over at where the driver is holding her small overnight bag, casually reaching over to take it from the older gentleman before walking towards the crowd.
Stopping in the middle of the front quad of the school, the petite blonde glances at her watch. Remembering her schedule of classes, Emma realizes that she has about an hour before her first class, more than enough time to drop off her bag in her room. Glancing around at the other students who are just arriving, she smirks as they and some of their parents struggle with suitcases and chests. It makes her glad she'd had her things sent over a few days ago; she wouldn't dare ask the family's aging driver to do something like that nor would she lower herself to something so… pedestrian. Turning towards the main building where the girls' dorms are located, she takes one step and slams hard into someone else.
Instinctively shifting to her diamond form a scant moment before her butt hits the grass, Emma curses under her breath, knowing her brand new jumper now has a lovely stain on it. After checking herself over, her attention turns to the cause of her sudden change in altitude: a pale girl roughly her own age. It takes her a moment to realize why the other girl seems familiar, and then Emma's frown grows. She would have expected something like this from one of the commoners. Then again, maybe it's not who she thinks it is. After all, the last time she'd seen the girl's picture, her hair hadn't been… "…purple?"
They aren't the only thing that's purple - or rather violet; Emma does know her color wheel, after all. Violet eyes glare back at Emma as the girl gathers her books into a neat pile before hopping to her feet. A peculiar, butterfly like construct of violet light springs into being around the girl's head as a nimbus of same-colored energy appears around the books, and then they wobble a bit before rising up into the girl's arms. Huffing, the girl's British accent is prominent as she lambasts Emma. "Wot the hell's your damage? Watch where you're going!"
As she climbs back to her feet, Emma turns her attention from the violet-haired girl to the tall blond boy standing beside her. She has to look up at him but that hardly phases her; she's well aware that she's short for her age, for a girl, for a human in general. In comparison, the boy seems ridiculously tall, with the build of a star quarterback and an easy smile. Sighing, Emma looks back to the girl who knocked her down. Based on the company she keeps, the blonde is fairly certain who's in front of her but has no desire to come off as some sort of… fangirl. "So, is the large slab of meat here a friend? Your boyfriend?"
"Oh vom! No, Brian's my fraternal twin. Still don't get how the same ingredients can make that…" Betsy takes a step to the side, turning to gesture at her brother before waving a hand over her own body. "…and this, but if my parents can't explain it to me, I don't think I'll ever get it. Oh, by the by, I'm Elisabeth." The newly introduced Elisabeth shifts to hold her books with one arm and thrusts her free hand out in Emma's direction, clearly expecting the blonde to shake it. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, she clears her throat nervously and wraps her arm back around her books. "So…"
"So you'd be Brian and Elisabeth Braddock, the middle and youngest children respectively of Sir and Lady Braddock. Minor royals out of London. Your mother inherited her position while your father married far above his station. They're both remarkably intelligent for members of the British peerage; I think my father's brought a few of their ideas to market here in America. Did I miss anything?" Emma cooly asks as she brushes the grass and dirt from the backside of her skirt before sighing. Attention shifting from Brian to Betsy, she transforms back into her flesh and blood form before reaching up to nudge her sunglasses back in to their proper position.
"Woah… y'think she's a telepath too, Betsy?" the tall blond boy exclaims to his twin. Emma stares Brian, her mind drifting, wondering what her sister found so fascinating about boys. Maybe it'll make more sense when she gets older? Because right now… nope.
"Yes… Brian, was it? I am in fact a telepath. Not that I need to be, what with Royal Hunting being a popular sport in the trashy tabloids that Mother reads. I could put two and two together easily enough," Emma smirks as she explains things to the twins, before deciding she's let them twist in the wind for long enough. "My name is-"
"Emma!" a familiar voice calls out from behind her.
The wind shifts and the familiar scent of Armani Black Code teases Emma's nose, guaranteeing who it is. "Hello, Warren," the young blonde replies as she turns to give her older friend a hug. "Adrienne sends her love."
"Yeah, I've seen the pictures of who she's climbing all over these days. She can keep that love to herself, thank you very much."
Chuckling, Emma turns back to Betsy and Brian. The look on the younger Braddock's face makes it clear that she's figured out who the mystery 'Emma' must be; knowing Warren and the mention of Adrienne probably helped. Speaking of Adrienne… the clueless look still on Brian's face makes Emma glad that her sister isn't around. 'She'd eat that poor boy alive.'
"God, first Warren and now the Emma Frost is joining us here at Mutant High?" the smaller Braddock asks with thinly veiled amusement. "Oh, how the mighty are falling."
Yes, because a royal who was shipped off to Middle of Nowhere, New York had any room to talk about downward mobility. Before Emma can tear into 'Betsy', though, Warren slides between them and offers one of his wide, easy smiles. "Calm down, girls, you've got all year to hiss and claw at each other. Orientation's in less than an hour, though, and I'm pretty sure we all need to unpack still. You two can tussle later. Brian, if you can spare a few minutes, Piotr needs your help moving one of his statues."
"Ooh! He made a new one?" the tall blond asks excitedly.
Emma watches as the two young blonds wander off together, before sighing and looking to her left. Raising a finely-shaped eyebrow at the Brit beside her, she waits a few seconds to see if she'll say anything before setting off towards the main building. After all, as Warren pointed out, she still needs to unpack. The pair walk together in silence for a few minutes, and then the violet-haired girl finally breaks it. "So… Emma. Sorry about the joke. It's just that you're kind of famous. It's weird seeing you here of all places."
"It's fine. I could say the same about you, though. Why aren't you at Hogwarts, or whatever you have for people like us over in England?" Emma quips.
"Har har. We're here… well, Brian's here because the Crown wants him to become the next Captain Britain. All the big names are either here or in New York City, so he can get better training on this side of the pond." Betsy's eyes are on her feet as they walk, and Emma can feel sadness radiating from her companion. They reach the door, which is being held open by a boy in his late teens. Being held open… by his tail.
Countless hours of etiquette training go out the window as Emma finds herself staring at the deep blue, velvet-like fur that covers his skin, before noticing he has yellow eyes and pointed ears that give him an elfin appearance. All they do is give her something other than the fur to stare at, though. Finally, she realizes that he's smiling at her and offers a hesitant smile of her own. "Guten morgen, mädchen. Betsy! New friend?"
Betsy looks back and forth between the blue-furred boy and Emma a few times before snorting indelicately. "Not quite, Kurt. And even if she was… I know you love your blondes, but she's a bit out of your league."
"Ach!" It's decidedly odd to watch Kurt bring both hands up to clutch at his chest without having to let the door go, Emma decides. Then again, she should probably get used to seeing the odd and unusual here at 'Mutant High', the blonde realizes. After all, she's going to be here for a while. "You wound me with your… your spurious accusations!"
"Word-a-Day calendar?"
"Word-a-Day screensaver. I found it on the laptop they gave me. It's just like the calendar, except without killing all those trees." Betsy and Kurt chuckle at that and then Kurt waves a tridactyl hand at them. "I'll catch up with you at orientation. Let Amanda know where I am if you see her?"
Nodding, Betsy returns the wave as they pass through the door he's holding. "Can do." The Brit settles back into her role as competent if quiet guide as they head towards the girls' dorms; looking around, Emma notices nothing has changed since her last visit. Good. It means she won't have to start from scratch figuring out where everything is. "So, where were we?"
"Why you're here."
"Ah, right. Well I'm a mutant too, obviously. And… I'm sure you heard about the accident with Jamie?" Elisabeth quietly asks, receiving a nod in reply from Emma as they make their way to the main staircase with the other girls. "We were all in the car together when… when Jamie attacked. At first it looked like Daddy and Brian were dead, but the attack brought out Brian's powers and he protected Daddy. Brian and Jamie fought. Then my own powers manifested…"
"And you stopped Jamie," Emma says solemnly. She'd watched the news reports with her father, and then read about the details on the Internet. Jamie Braddock, the eldest of the three Braddock children, had been the first to manifest powers. Soon after, his ability to warp reality had driven him insane, driving him to attack London and leading to the deaths of nearly a hundred people, including the previous Captain Britain. Brian had tried to stop his brother but it had been Betsy who'd actually managed to take him down… by destroying his mind.
"Yeah…" the taller, violet-haired girl whispers. Reaching the third floor landing, Emma and Betsy stop and step to the side, removing themselves from the flowing traffic of girls and professors. The young British mutant looks up at Emma. "So, they sent Brian here to help him fulfill his grand destiny. I'm here because they're scared of me."
"I'm sorry… I don't know what to say." For the first time in many years, Emma is honestly at a loss for words. No amount of sarcasm or cold bitterness - her normal reactions to uncomfortable situations - can make this better.
After a few moments, Betsy offers her a small smile. "It's okay. C'mon, what room are you in?"
"312?"
"Awesome! You're in with the rest of the Brain Bunch!" In a surprising move, Betsy takes Emma's hand in her own and guides her through the flow of students towards her room. As they weave in and out of the other girls, Emma's eyes catch sight of a girl leaning against the wall. The girl's skin is a pure alabaster, her short-cropped, pitch black hair is tousled in managed chaos. The black spot surrounding her left eye causes memories of her last visit to come crashing back.
"Hang… Betsy… stop! Wait!" Emma digs her heels in, fighting against the taller girl as she tries to stop. The violet-haired mutant finally complies, looking back at Emma as the blonde turns to gesture to the strange gothic girl… who is no longer there. "Whah? Never mind, sorry."
"You're so strange. C'mon, we're almost there." They soon reach a door marked '312' and Betsy offers a victorious smile as they come to a halt, waving her right arm dramatically. "Your quarters, my queen!"
Shaking her head, Emma can't help but smile at the girl's theatrics. Reaching out and touching the warm wooden door, she traces the name placard reading 'Frost, E.'. She sighs before nodding to Betsy, pushing down on the handle and opening the door into her room. Looking inside, she finds that her quarters are distinctly Victorian in style, albeit a bit nondescript. Her luggage has been placed neatly beside the single bed along the back wall, with a writing desk and wardrobe being the only other objects in the exceedingly bare room. "Well, this is rather bland, no?"
Betsy leans against the doorframe, offering a shrug. "Eh, you get used to it. Also, if you keep out of trouble, the staff will let you paint and decorate. After all, most of us are going to be here for a while. Anyway, I've gotta go unpack as well. I'll see you in orientation. I'm a second year, which means I'm still in the novice classes with you, so we'll be able to chat more today."
"Cool. It'll give me time to get my bearings. It was nice meeting you, Betsy." Emma tosses on one of her casual smiles as her new friend leaves for her room. Setting her overnight bag on her bed with a sigh, she spins in a graceful pirouette and flops on her bed beside her bag. 'At least the bed is soft'.
Laying on her bed, Emma glances at her watch. Still another half hour till she needs to make it to orientation. Closing her eyes and centering herself, she reaches out with her mind and lets it wash over her fellow students. Like a dolphin using sonar, her mind pings against each of her peers' and she instantly knows the size of the student body: four hundred and thirty-eight students. In them, she can sense excitement, mixed with a bit of fear and trepidation. Letting her consciousness linger on one mind in particular, she's drawn back into the physical world by the sound of music. Relatively loud music at that; not as bad as the students wandering the halls, but loud enough for her to hear.
Opening her eyes, she rises into a sitting position before sliding off the bed, listening to the quick, throbbing beat. Shifting to one side and then the other, she narrows it down to the room on her left. Leaving her room behind, she hangs a left and finds herself standing in front of Room 314. The door is decorated with a bright yellow sun, cut from construction paper and laden with a rainbow of glitter, the word 'Grey' written on it in puffy silver paint. A goofy, cartoon face smiles at her from over the name. It takes her a moment to realize why the name is familiar: it's that girl. The one who's burrowed into every waking thought for the past week and a half, that frustratingly beautiful girl. Emma knocks at the door, preparing to give her neighbor a right proper dressing down over the noise.
Another knock. Still no answer.
"Sigh… this is irritating." Reaching for the door handle, Emma finds no resistance as she pushes it down and opens the door. Peeking into the room, her heart skips a beat. 'No, really, it's okay. Please, sit with us.' That day crashes back into her mind. She'd done so well to push away the embarrassment of that day, and how her stomach twisted and turned when she thought of that redhead. '-and your new friend, Jean Grey.'
Standing in the doorway, Emma watches the wild mane of fiery hair trail through the air as the young girl dances. The bass line accentuates each twist, each hip rock, each dip. Jean's body moves in what seems to be a mix of urban dance and belly dancing, and Emma finds herself utterly unable to wrench her gaze away from the dancing form before her. Clad in a green and gold leotard, Jean flows with the music and Emma can't manage to keep herself from noticing every detail of the redhead's body. The tiny blonde feels her face flush; she knows she should leave but feels rooted in place, as if she is who Jean is performing for.
The song eventually comes to an end, as do Jean's movements, her breathing heavy as she catches her breath. Stepping forward to grab a towel from her bed, the redhead finally notices her audience. Emma braces herself, knowing deep inside that she's broken around a billion rules of etiquette. Instead of being screamed at - or worse, turned in to be reprimanded by the Professor - the glistening redhead flashes a bright smile. "Hi! I was hoping you'd be here!" Jean exhales with a heavy breath, dabbing at her freckle-splattered skin. Her bright green eyes lock onto Emma's blue, her smile genuine and wonderful.
After a few moments of silence, Emma looks away, her eyes dropping to the floor before bouncing up to the ceiling in an attempt to avoid looking at the girl, her hands fidgeting. She opens her mouth once, then twice, wondering if her words have disappeared to the same place the moisture in her mouth went. "Umm… yeah. I… sorry, I didn't mean to. Just, I heard the music and… sorry." Emma purses her lips at her sudden inability to form a normal sentence. Taking a deep breath and gathering herself, the young blonde lets her eyes drift down to settle on the redhead's face. "Yeah, I just wanted to say hi and stuff."
"Awesome!"
'Dammit… why can't I think straight? Why can't I look at her without my chest feeling like it's going to explode?" Emma thinks to herself, pondering a way to exit this very uncomfortable situation. And possibly transfer to a school in Antarctica. As she goes to make her graceless exit, a voice not her own intrudes on her thoughts.
'It's okay. I kinda fancy you too.'
With a choked gasp, Emma's bright blue eyes go wide as the foreign voice in her head sinks in. Looking up at the girl sanding in front of her, Emma's mouth and mind work, and nothing comes out of either. "And I just made you uncomfortable. I'm sorry. I just… I'm new with my telepathy and, well, you're kinda projecting. And I'll shut up now." Turning, Jean gathers her folded jumper from her bed along with a another towel and a basket of shower supplies before moving to the door. She comes to a stop in front of Emma, leaving the shorter blonde staring at the girl's feet instead of the floor as they stand in uncomfortable silence. "Look, I'm sorry if I violated your mindspace and I know I'm too forward at times. I just thought… yeah. If you want to slap me now and we can be enemies for the rest of school, that's cool. But I need to shower, and we're going to both be late to orientation, and I don't need Mister Howlett making me do laps again," the taller ginger explains. Looking up, Emma finds a pair of large green eyes staring at her with a mix of compassion and trepidation, her face showing a hint of the stress that Emma realizes she's accidentally broadcasting.
Fidgeting and shifting on her feet, Emma's small hands grip the skirt of her jumper. The young telepath frowns, as her inability to rationally think this out turns the silence more and more awkward. She only met Jean a little over a week ago, yet the cheerful freckled girl has made at home in Emma's thoughts: her face, her smile, her smell, how her warm soft hand felt in Emma's. Emma knows that romances are supposed to be complex give and take, there's no such thing as fairytale 'love at first sight'. Yet this girl makes her feel unsure. This girl, who won't get out of her head… and the young blonde isn't all that sure she wants her to. Looking up at those emerald eyes, Emma's heart pounds in her ears and she feels light-headed, 'Dammit Emma, you can do this, you can talk to her'. "Yes, I like you. I'm not sure why, because I'm quite sure I'm not supposed to like other girls."
"Ah. Well, my daddy told me that we can't help who we love, we can only love who we love. If you're not sure, maybe we can get a coffee later? Get to know each other?"
"…yeah, I think I'd like that."
From a corner opposite Jean Grey's room, two sets of eyes watch as the redhead and blonde leave together, the pair of telepaths speaking quietly as they head down the hall towards the showers. Once out of earshot, the violet-haired peeper is the first to speak. "So, Petey. Looks like Fireball really does have a thing for the Princess."
Taking a moment to sip some orange juice through a pink straw, the pale-skinned girl nods. "Eyup. Seriously, Psy, she would not stop talking about the Princess. I'm telling you, love at first sight. Which means that you owe me five bucks."
"Nonono, I said the Princess has to reciprocate," Betsy backpedals. Her pale companion only laughs, making Betsy scowl and poke at her ribs. "I mean, how do I know you didn't affect the outcome, Little Miss Luck Dragon?"
"Hey, I wouldn't do that. Not with something like this. This is all them. Besides, if I was behind it, do you really think I'd make them so… disgustingly cute together?" Neena finishes off her orange juice before absently tossing the carton towards the trash. Just as it seems to it will fall short, the carton bounces off a door handle and falls into the trash can.
Betsy considers that before nodding. Then again… "Yeah. Speaking of cute girlfriends, though, what's new with Jeanne-Marie?"
Letting out a sigh tinged with frustration, Neena rolls her eyes. "Still stuck in Beijing. They're doing even more tests. As always, mutant medalists get tested more than the suspected dopers."
"I know, Domino, but she'll be cleared and then you'll officially be the girlfriend of a silver medal winning Olympian." Betsy reaches over, patting her friend on the back in an attempt to cheer her up.
"Yeah, I know… still pisses me off." The raven-haired mutant sighs before perking up. "Hey, breakfast is done by now, right?" Betsy shrugs before nodding, not quite sure where her friend is going with the question. "Wonder what the odds are that they have some pancakes left…"
"Wanna go find out?"
May 25, 2009
The Office of Dr Asgari Kapatī - Manhattan, New York
1:20PM
"I couldn't help but notice that you just shared some memories that clearly-"
"Aren't my own?" Emma smirks as she leans back in her chair, bringing one finger up to tap against her temple. Evidently the good doctor has forgotten who she's dealing with, an oversight that Emma intends to exploit in their never ending game of verbal one-upmanship. "I am a telepath, remember? Why would I be limited to what my own eyes can see and my own ears can hear? Those of us in the 'Brain Bunch', as Betsy calls it, tend to toss memories back and forth like tweets. Makes going to a concert or ballgame a positively fascinating experience…"
"I see." Shifting uncomfortably, Kapatī forces a brittle smile that Emma can see through as easily as her own transmorph form. It makes the blonde wonder, does Kapatī think Emma plans to pick through her own brain? She'd dismissed such a thing in the past, figuring her plain and boring therapist had nothing of interest rattling around inside her head. Now, she's… slightly curious, albeit not enough to waste the time and energy poking around in the older woman's head. "Moving on… I believe you were telling me about your first day at Xavier's?"