12111/A Different Facet of Diamonds

A Different Facet of Diamonds
Date of Scene:	01 September 2020
Location:	Study Hall / Computer Lab, Xavier's School
Synopsis:	Shannon discovers unexpected facets of the White Queen, and realizes she misjudged her. Feelings over recent events are aired, dealt with, and perhaps the teen might have actually pulled one over on Miss Frost!
Cast of Characters:	Emma Frost, Nightingale

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Emma Frost has posed:
The study hall is supposed to be quiet. It's for *studying*, after all. But it's relatively rare that one of the teachers pops in unless a student is looking for tutoring from them. In this case, there is none of that. So Emma's steps in the hallway sound as if they're going to go on by... and then she pauses and returns to the doorway. Blue eyes scan the room and fall on Shannon, and the blonde purses her lips slightly. "Are you doing well, Miss Lance?" The question is rather broad, but it may be that she caught some tendril of something from the teenager as she passed the door -- something enough that it's brought her to check.

Nightingale has posed:
     The day had started out very quiet, and just, well... /normal/. Normal activities one might expect the young healer in training to be in the midst of. Puttering about in the kitchen, volunteering in the Wellness Office, raiding Mr. McCoy's library, and in general gearing up for the school year ahead. But what Shannon had /not/ expected was the return of someone she had believed long since gone, abandoning her in her beginnings here and leaving her to flounder about. It's small wonder, then, that she is taking refuge in the study hall now, in the calm and quiet, with her laptop in her lap, headphones over her ears, and a what looks like a little mini piano keyboard hooked up to her laptop by her side.

     But calm was going to take a little bit of work today--and it was very likely this that the White Queen was picking up on. It was also very unlikely she'd miss the raised eyebrows, and the barely restrained emotions of surprise and indeed, a sort of wariness. "It's been a day, miss Frost," she replies, uncertain how much if anything to tell her. Just how far could she trust miss Frost?

Emma Frost has posed:
Tipping her head just slightly, it seems momentarily as if the woman is going to take that at face value. She has tried to keep the kids in this school from getting through her shields -- she wanted to do right by them when she came here, but she didn't want to be emotionally invested. The last students and their outcomes hurt her. But if there is generally one thing that Emma Frost cannot do, it's turn her back on a student in distress.

She steps more fully into the room with a glance over her shoulder to make sure nothing they're talking about is going to be overheard. When she looks back to Shannon, there's a softer expression than perhaps the girl is used to seeing. Emma knows she's been *terribly* hard on Shannon in the past. "That is usually not a positive response. Is it something that I can help with?" she asks carefully.

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon gives a little upwards flick of her eyebrows, closing the lid of her laptop and shifting the headphones to rest about her neck and not over her ears. This was definitely not a side of miss Frost she had ever seen before. Had Megan been right about her all along? Had first impressions indeed been misleading? "It's... a bit to grapple with," she offers, a little bit wary and guarded in her response. Rumor had it that the woman was a telepath nearly as strong as miss Grey in many respects, but decidedly more, well, pragmatic in her outlook. This was not someone to trifle with, or attempt to deceive.

     "Have you ever had someone you were counting on as a mentor, someone who you were learning to consider a friend, disappear without word for a long time--only to have them return quite some time later? It's being caught between relief and joy that they're back, anger and upset that they left without word in the first place, and being ashamed of one's self for being upset when it was simply life getting in the way."

Emma Frost has posed:
Choosing to only approach close enough to listen to the teen's words with her full attention, Emma doesn't crowd her. She pulls in a slow breath and crosses her arms, her expression thoughtful. "All seem appropriate enough responses, Miss Lance," she observes. "If you'll forgive the familiarity, I venture this thought. Being happy to see someone and angry because you expected something of them that they failed to give are not mutually exclusive emotions. They can coexist just fine. However, feeling shame of those emotions is not a particularly helpful response. You are entitled to your feelings, both positive and negative. There is no shame in them. It is what you *do* with those that determine whether you have anything over which to feel guilt. For example, ... choosing to make someone else feel guilty for not living up to your expectations when they didn't realize there were any. THat might be something to feel shame for."

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon nods slowly, taking a moment to digest this. "I think that's perhaps why I didn't yell, even when invited to do so. The other person felt bad enough as it was. No need to rub salt in the wound. However," she adds, her brows furrowing more than just a little bit. "It was Josh Foley. He finally returned, and admitted to having overextended himself somehow today, but didn't say how. And that does worry me. What could have tired out an omega level healer?"

Emma Frost has posed:
Narrowing her blue eyes just slightly, Emma admits, "I am uncertain. And the specifics of it, perhaps, are not something he wishes to share. But I will ask Miss Grey to check in on him to be sure he is all right, so that you do not have to worry." Her smile is very faint, and she offers, "Feel your emotions and then let them go. Shame over something you cannot help, such as your emotions, serves no purpose." There's a wry quirk to her lips. "If it helps, I am aware that the advice is far easier to give than to take."

Nightingale has posed:
     Was that...? No way. Miss Frost, actually /smiled/? Perhaps she had misjudged the woman after all. A wisp of confusion lingered around her, like an odd sort of incense that one could not quite place the scent or the source of. A quick little quirk of her lips tugs them into a smile echoing that of the White Queen, the winged teen nodding once, and flicking her wings ever so slightly. "In much the same way healers and doctors make the worst patients?" Perhaps there was some level of understanding between them after all.

     There is silence for some moments, and it seems as if there might not be much more for the teen to add. But appearances, as it turns out, can be quite deceiving, the silence broken once again. "I'll admit, earlier encounters with you left me harboring some very unkind thoughts. But now I'm thinking perhaps I may have misjudged you, and for that, I'm sorry."

Emma Frost has posed:
"Indeed," Emma replies evenly regarding the doctors and patients comment. But when Shannon apologizes, a single blonde brow raises on her forehead. "There is no need for apologies, Miss Lance. I was more harsh than I really intended to be -- For a healer, reckless reaction can be an incredible dangerous thing. I'm a harsh taskmaster when it comes to harnessing such impetuousness." James can tell her as much, if she were to ask. "It is in your own best interests to curb impulse before rushing in."

The white-clad woman turns to start back toward the door. "I doubt you misjudged me. If I am hard on you, it is because I would prefer to see you live to your adulthood." The last is offered in a tighter tone -- she has lost students. It has marked her.

Nightingale has posed:
     That tone is one Shannon knows, unfortunately. It is one she's used herself. It's the sound of someone who has been marked by loss, and very likely blames themselves for it. Without so much as a word, she sets her laptop and headphones aside, sliding from her seat and walking right over to Miss Frost. "I'll take you by your word, then, and not be one bit ashamed for this." That is about all the warning given before she attempts to draw Emma in for a brief hug, if allowed to do so, with her wings furling like a protective cocoon given half a chance.

Emma Frost has posed:
If she'd been reading the girl, she might have had ample warning. But Emma was doing her best impression of being *not* manipulative, so she didn't expect *that*. Stock still in the girl's hug, Emma almost doesn't respond at all, only briefly and somewhat uncomfortably embracing the teen at the last moment. "Yes, well... thank you for that, Shannon," she murmurs as she extricates herself. She is not the least little bit comfortable with *emotions*. "I think perhaps we should continue to work on impulse control." But there's a warmer tone to the words, as if the teacher is suppressing amusement. "Good night."

Nightingale has posed:
     "There are two impulses I wish there were more of. Gratitude, and caring. Rarely is it a bad moment for either." A wry smile curls Shannon's lips upwards, and she laughs softly. Had she actually gotten miss Frost to laugh, mayhaps even to smile? No, the expression was not visible, but that timbre to her words was not lost upon the younger woman. Indeed, she had misjudged her. "Goodnight, miss Frost. Perhaps coffee soon? Or tea, I'm not even certain which you prefer..."

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma's only response to that is an enigmatic smile as she pauses at the door. "Rest well, Miss Lance." And then she's off to do whatever she was on her way to do before she paused there in that doorway.