1818/Emma Frost's Impossible Mission
Jump to navigation
Jump to search
| Emma Frost's Impossible Mission | |
|---|---|
| Date of Scene: | 04 August 2017 |
| Location: | Unknown |
| Synopsis: | Summary needed |
| Cast of Characters: | Fairchild, Emma Frost
|
- Fairchild has posed:
A promise of a generous monetary stipend, an explanation of the quality of instructors and facilities, an assurance that her credits from Stanford would transfer, and - well, just a *little* bit of telepathic manipulation have left Caitlin Fairchild, the heroine better known as ... well, as 'Fairchild,' nominally committed to attending Emma Frost's 'Metropolis Academy.'
The 'recruitment bonus' has certainly been helpful, granting Caitlin access to a thing commonly referred to as 'stores,' locations - often physical - where goods are offered in exchange for currency. One manifestation of this phenomenon offers what is known as 'clothing,' and Caitlin has bought examples.
(She also bought a few bras, but that's not really any of your business, thank you *very* much.)
With this windfall, Caitlin has outfitted herself in a nicely fitted pair of denim jeans (when you're over six feet tall, not the easiest thing to find as a woman), new sneakers, and ... and a babydoll tee, black, with a cartoon cat reading a science text hidden within a comic book, 'They'll never suspect Science' written above it.
She's ... not really getting the general idea, it would seem.
Ushered into Emma Frost's private office, she stands awkwardly by the door.
"You, uhm, wanted to see me?"
- Emma Frost has posed:
Emma is nothing if not efficient in getting her academy running. However, with efficiency and certainty of purpose comes complications. Complications like... well, reluctanct prospective students. And so while her acquiring of staff had been going smoothly, and portions of her student recruitment were proceeding stunningly, she had setbacks to deal with.
Of course, she's already thinking of how to use her advantages to overcome her obstalces. And waiting for her delivery to salvation. All six plus feet of it, all in a surprisingly shy package for such a well-built woman.
Emma laughs out softly, downright delightedly as her head nods to Caitlin, crooking one finger gently, gesturing to the chairs in front of her desk, seated behind it, most of her body is hidden except for the well-tailored jacket covering shoulders and upper body. "Oh, yes of course Caitlin. Please, come and sit. I have some important work for you. It's something of... community outreach. To some hesitant students who are concerned about the school." Her lips curve in a slow, almost dangerous smile as she murmurs softly. "And I do believe you're uniquely suited to reassuring them. You're around the same age, similar backgrounds... you can... connect over those youthful interests and the like."
- Fairchild has posed:
The only potential roadblock to this latest brilliant endeavor is that *Caitlin* is a reluctant student, her past association with scantily clad, fetishwear-friendly masterminds having left a bad taste in her mouth and a lingering dislike of anyone too fond of putting their hand on her ass. (Which is, admittedly, a very understandable dislike for anyone at all to have.)
She crosses the room and takes the proffered seat, sitting with her legs together and her densely muscled arms placed against the rests; she picks against where the padding attaches to the wood, and she clears her throat.
"I'm ... honestly not entirely sure what you mean, Miss Frost," comes Caitlin's response. She has a brow raised slightly, cheeks tightened, lips curved the most miniscule hint downwards at one side.
"That is to say... my background isn't exactly one that most people my age can connect with - quite frankly there are few people in *general* who would relate to the *particulars* of it - and that aside I'm not especially well-equipped to sell anyone on anything. If you're asking if I'm willing to trade on my physical appearance, to - I'm not certain as to the best way of putting this - to, to 'girl it up,' to flirt with someone in an attempt to generate an artificial emotional connection then I'm, I'm just *completely* uncomfortable with *that*."
- Emma Frost has posed:
Emma just -sighs- for a moment. "I do -not- intend for you to trade on your looks to convince two girls who are afraid my school is secretly a plot to kidnap them into some sort of covert government powered teen hit squad. For one thing, I feel as though your looks would simply -add- to their paranoia about the particulars of the school. Or make them think we're going for the championship in field hockey." Her lips quirk slightly, hands pressing together, fingers steepling under her chin.
"But I think -that's- why your particular background would suffice for reassuring them. And if not, well, at least if you all go running off on some sort of cross country roadtrip, you'll be a trio." She quirks her lips into a cool little smirk and murmurs out. "But I'm sure you'd enjoy a paid trip up to New York City, hm? I'm sure I can arrange a room for you, and some sort of daily allowance."
She sighs and shakes her head, groaning out softly. "Really, Caitlin. I'd simply be utterly thrilled if you would help with this one little issue. Between the rich parents badgering me -to- enroll their children, the less fortunate children afraid I'll turn them into assassins, and prospective teachers coming for interviews, well, I'm -only- one woman, Ms. Fairchild. No matter how spectacular of one I may be."
- Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin's eyes briefly - so *very* briefly - roll upwards as she exhales a quiet sigh, her head tilted to one side and her arms folding across her chest. Well - *beneath* her chest, certain mechanical issues making it rather more difficult for her to fold *across*. Her jaw tenses, as she listens to Emma's offers.
"I'll ... make an attempt?" is what she offers, a question more than a statement, and one that seems to leave a bit of a bad taste in her mouth. "What are their concerns? That you're connected to some sort of government-facilitated military program, that your school is a front meant to draw in individuals with post-human abilities?"
Admittedly, it's a valid concern after Ivana Baiul's experiments. It's understandable, really, why someone would be reticent - Caitlin *herself* was reticent, but thankfully (though perhaps not thankfully for Caitlin) a hint, a nudge, a telepathic push here and there has made the matter ever so much easier.
"Do you have any files on them? What are their names?"
- Emma Frost has posed:
Emma gives a little smile, and another of those subtle, gentle little telepathic nudges. Just a soothing, warm feeling of general enjoyment and pleasure at doing well for her. "Oh, how wonderful, Caitlin. I don't have full files on them I'm afraid, one is Katherine Pryde, brunette, nervous girl really... but quite charming in that... school bookworm sort of way." She laughs softly and nods her head, "And, yes... Ms. Pryde and her associate Rachel Goldman both... seem -quite- concerned about exactly such a thing. Of course, you know I'm nothing like the sort of person who'd run an operation like that! I simply want you to... reassure them."
Emma sighs and murmurs almost discontently, "Ms. Goldman will be... quite easy to pick out in a crowd. She looks... surprisingly similar to myself. So if you see Ms. Pryde and a tall, young blonde woman, well... it's likely the two of them. I believe Ms. Pryde can... phase matter? She seemed most worried about that phrase. Her friend I'm less clear on, except she has a fondness for clothes appropriate to dancing in a club. I'm afraid we mostly bonded over a shopping trip, you see."
- Fairchild has posed:
The second name elicits a scoffing laugh from Caitlin; she leans forward in her chair and her jaw cocks to the side, shaking her head. "If she should happen to be the person I believe Drawing any comparison between yourself and Rachel Goldman is not a thing to be undertaken lightly in the presence of anyone who knows Rachel Goldman in any sense beyond the most passing acquaintance, Miss Frost."
"Around six feet tall in boots. Bleached blonde hair. A handful of cosmetic surgical enhancements. Daughter of Susan Goldman, from a *very* affluent family. Should I continue?"
- Emma Frost has posed:
Emma sighs and rolls her eyes slightly, "Yes, that's... certainly the girl I met to a T. Perhaps not as well off as myself in the... family name and medical rolodex regards, but still, quite adequate work. Certainly she could entertaining to have around, a... delight for the fundraising season if nothing else, hm? Wealthy parents mean new facilities after all."
Emma murmurs out softly, "Now, you won't need to do this immediately. They... left somewhat rapidly yesterday after our tour of the dorms. I believe we may wish to give them a few days to settle down and... come to their senses about their educational future. I'm sure given time they'll come to see the joys of this school as much as you will!" Emma sniffs dismissively and murmurs, "But for now, if you desire, I suppose you may indulge yourself in one of your hobbies, or... studying, or whatever it is you do to relax."