5500/Astral Flux: The Cuts that Unbind the Ties

Astral Flux: The Cuts that Unbind the Ties
Date of Scene:	05 October 2018
Location:	Xavier's School, Westchester, New York
Synopsis:	Betsy finds Emma enjoying herself in the teacher's lounge and decides to take action on her suspicions that Emma is compromised. She's right, and it works.
Cast of Characters:	Emma Frost, Psylocke
Tinyplot:	Astral Flux

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Emma Frost has posed:
Emma was enjoying herself. In fact, she couldn't remember when she had enjoyed herself so much. Certainly not since she'd been chased out of her happy little home - wait, there had been that gentleman she'd thought herself in love with. That had been an interesting interlude she'd learned a lot from. Perhaps then. Certainly not since.

In fact, Emma Frost had made it a point of living up to her namesake and being as icy as they came. What you didn't let in, couldn't hurt you.

But this? This all was enjoyable. The men she was leading on. The nights at the clubs. The reckless abandon with which she was flitting about and tasting the sweet ectar of tempation?

Oh, she'd lost a lot of money, but it was only money. And the dalliances never went any further than leading them on, only to drop them like the fools that they were, asking them to close the door behind them and leave a 5am wakeup call.

Of course she wasn't sleeping at the mansion. That would never do. Too many wagging tongue and prying eyes. And while she certainly wasn't minding giving the students a glimpse of what money and power could get them, she also wasn't about to invite them into her private life.

She noted, this morning, with regret, that her bottle of Glenlivet was nearly empty. She'd have to get another to stash in the lounge. For now, though, she had half a coffee mug full. It was enough to enjoy her morning smoke with.

Psylocke has posed:
Betsy Braddock had been having quite the last two weeks. She had read the warning from Jean about the Astral Plane and the problems there. She had been contacted by Lois Lane, wanting her help with some telepaths who had been networked and found themselves in over their heads. Some were missing. Some were damaged. Some screamed endlessly over the link from the Astral Plane.
    The English woman had reached out to her fellow telepaths at the mansion but Jean was keeping herself away, the Professor seemed to be busy with other things and Emma had been doing her own thing and had not volunteered to help with the situation.
    When one of the people on the link died, Betsy had to act. She went to SHIELD, confronted them about the telepath in their custody. She didn't know how he died, just that he did. But she played a hunch and accused the agents of killing him. In the end, she learned that was true but again, no details. Things had been too hectic with her trying to save the telepaths that were left.
    It had almost backfired. Two of them were still needing telepathic healing if they were ever going to return from the state they were now in. They weren't dead but was their current situation any better? So Betsy was making herself available to SHIELD to help them as much as she could. She had a lot of practice removing dark taints from the minds of the Asgardians after their war with the Dark Elves. Hopefully it would work here.
    As she entered the teacher's lounge, she caught sight of Emma and frowned slightly. The woman had been behaving oddly of late. For example, her having a smoke in the teacher's lounge which was definitely forbidden. She also had Betsy a bit suspicious for other reasons. Perhaps it was kismet they ran into each other. Time to figure out what was going on.
    "Emma," she offered as a greeting, moving to prepare herself a cup of tea instead of that bitter coffee that always seemed to be the fare here in the lounge. "It has been some time since I've seen you. I hope you are well?"

Emma Frost has posed:
"Betsy, darling," Emma drawls. "We'll just pretend like you care. I'd offer you a smoke, but they're forbidden in the lounge. And I'm all out of Glenlivet."

Emma is smug, and not even remotely apologetic. She's also acting like she's probably had one more drink than she likely should have. It could be an affectation - she has been rather unlike herself of late. 'Living' she'd called it. 'Taking Ororo's advice'.

Whatever it was, the transformation in Emma had been rapid - from neurotic and anxious, to suddenly free flowing and rather devil may care. A good six or so inches of Emma's permafrost had melted, and it was showing.

She sits up rather more attentively in her seat, blowing a smoke ring into the overhead fan. "What brings you around at this hour? Usually I have the lounge to myself until shortly before classes. All those last minute coffee mugs needing to be filled. Honestly, I should buy stock."

Psylocke has posed:
    "Unlike Americans, I do not offer platitudes. If I say I hope you are well, it is a statement of fact," Betsy says in her proper British accent as she takes the pot of hot water and fills a cup then adds her tea from her stock kept in the cabinet. She walks to the table where Emma is seated, standing to her side as she considers the other woman. She lets the tea steep as she talks.
    "Things have been strange of late and I fear they are coming to a head. I needed to come in a bit early in the hopes of catching the Professor." The way she says it, she obviously failed to do so.
    "Since smoking is forbidden in the lounge, I am curious why you are doing so? And I am quite positive that drinking before classes is also a violation of policy." She tilts her head to the side, purple hair sliding forward over her should as she did so. "Are you certain you are well?"

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma sighs heavily. "Of course you don't offer platitudes. Honestly, I never understood the English. There's something delightful about the outward exterior, and the reserved mannerisms, and then beneath it all, it's.. well, things come apart, don't they?"

She smiles at Betsy.

"Don't mind me. As you say, it's been strange of late. As to my health, I think I've reached a point in my life, my dear, where I've realized how much I was missing out. It's been delightfully freeing of late to participate in life as though I belonged there."

She cants her head at the other. "Not that I expect you to understand. I suppose I've been something of an iceburg. Isn't that the polite word you use? Frost Queen. Words slightly less polite. A whole slew I'm certain you're not aware I know."

She chuckles.

"As to why, my dear, because. Because I can. Who is going to stop me? The rules are in place to keep students from being corrupted." Looking about, "Do you see any students in here? I see us. Come, make your tea and join me. Tell me all about your little problems. The Professor is otherwise engaged. But I'm here."

Psylocke has posed:
    "Actually, the smoking rule is in place for more than that reason." Betsy doesn't sit down immediately. She moves to the fridge and pulls out a small container of cream she keeps there. Then she returns to the table and sits, waiting for the tea to be just right before adding the milk to the mix.
    "It isn't simply to keep from influencing the children. It is also to prevent those of us who would prefer not to smoke to not be forced to do so. Some of us would like to avoid lung cancer. So though I appreciate your zest for life, I would prefer if you would put out the cigarette. At least until after I have left."
    She checks the tea and adds in the cream, using a spoon to carefully mix it in fully. Then she sets the spoon aside on a napkin to her right.
    "I fear the problems are not mine nor are they little. The Shadow King is back and seems to be dominating the astral plane. He is tethering himselves to other through some sort of network. I recently freed some who had been under his sway. I fear there are many others."
    She takes a careful sip of her tea, eyeing Emma over the edge of the cup as she does so. As she cradles the cup in her hand after, the steam rises up from the surface of the liquid. She watches her fellow instructor through that haze.
    "When you went to the Astral Plane, you had been upset. Then you went again and now life is your oyster. Why the change, if you don't mind my asking?"

Emma Frost has posed:
It's with a bored and negligent wave of hand that Emma complies with Betsy's request that she put out the cigarette, nearly pouting as she remarks, "If you insist."

Emma uses a nearby saucer - there aren't any ashtrays here. Really, her smoking in the lounge hasn't been a secret. Her butts and ashes have been littering teacup saucers for weeks now.

"What changed? Oh, well, knowing I wasn't alone in what I knew, actually." Emma shrugs, and makes a move to light another cigarette, pulling one out of its packet before remembering that she's not smoking in deference to Betsy being in the room. The pack is set aside. "Seeing Jean there. I'm not sure. It made me realize I didn't have to bear what I knew alone."

Of course, Emma's been there since. /That/ last visit was her little secret. The timing was off. A bit. But not so much to make an outright liar of Emma. And in truth, Jean's showing up there had been the actual impetous for Emma to head back to the Astral plane to free the poor twisted thing that her King had trapped there.

Of course, that was before she'd seen his beautiful mind.

Unconsciously, she reaches up and touches the butterfly pin at her lapel, fingering the jewels there.

"I suppose it all must be a bit of a change for you to witness. I was young once, too, you must remember. I believed in things. Fell in love. Did foolish things. Is it so terrible to want something of that life again?"

Psylocke has posed:
    "Was?" Betsy isn't sure she understands the use of that word. "You are still young. Your choices may have been more serious for a time but that didn't turn you into an old woman by any means." She sips her tea before setting it back down on the table top. No saucer. Her parents would have been horrified, if they were still alive to see it.
    She notes the touching of the pin. It's something that she didn't used to wear. It's something that is a recent addition that she seems rather fond of. "Foolishness leads to mistakes. Mistakes are how we learn in our lives. I'm not sure that is something we need to recapture. Enjoyment is one thing as long as it isn't to excess. Once it reaches those levels, you may want to take a long, hard look at yourself. And your influence."
    She keeps her hands cradled around the warmth of her teacup. "That pin is beautiful. Where did you come by it?"

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma's fingers fall away from the pin, but there is an obvious fondness to her voice as she answer, "Oh, this? I had it made. It's beautiful, isn't it? So like the real thing."

The fondness is replaced by a sudden annoyance. "Honestly, I don't understand you people. It's don't be such a stick, Emma. Live a little Emma. Loosen up, Emma. Oh, god, muuust we take *her* she's suuuch a downer.." Her voice fairly drawls not only her distain, but the very disdain that others have directed her way in exactly those tones, with exactly those words. "And when I do loosen up, it's you're being excessive Emma. Take a look at yourself, Emma. Honestly, Emma, don't you think that's enough, you're a grown woman."

Now she reaches for the cigarette packet again, pulling one out, and removing a slim platinum etched Zippo from the packet and lights the thing, taking a long, irritated draw, and exhaling.

"I'm trying to enjoy my life, Betsy. I wasn't aware I needed the Braddock stamp of approval to do so."

Psylocke has posed:
    "When you are smoking inside the school and drinking before you go to teach, yes, you are being excessive," Betsy tells her flatly, not taking the least bit of offense at the tone or frustration. "You don't need my stamp of approval but you do need to realize that there is a balance. Enjoy yourself. Have a great time. Make all the mistakes you choose. But on your time, not that of the students. They deserve better."
    She narrows her violet eyes slightly. "If I recall correctly, you were very much dedicated to your students when you had your own school. Coming here, that same love of giving to them was reflected and, though I have not even attempted to befriend you, I respected that."
    She waves a hand at the laced coffee and the cigarette. "This doesn't seem like the woman who came to this school."

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma takes another inhale of her cigarette and stubs it out with its sister upon the saucer, albeit a much long tube of the thing is left.

"Oh, spare me. Like you paid any attention to the woman who came to this school. You or anyone else. The entire lot of you, stuck up and insular. The only thing you're doing right is by those children. And even that is oftimes questionable."

The reamins of her Glenlivet are downed in a smooth and practiced motion - entirely too much for a sip, and certainly an insult to the blend.

"Fine. I'll carry on elsewhere, but let's not pretend you or anyone else here is crying a river over me. As you say, all that matters are the wee little darlings even now who are tromping to their classes. Don't worry. I'll behave in public. There are plenty of other venues I can entertain myself in. If we're done here?"

Psylocke has posed:
    As the tirade fades, Betsy rises to her feet as she picks up her tea cup. "Do not presume to know my mind, Emma. You have never been in there and you never will be so you can only guess my feelings or motivations." She moves to walk past Emma, toward the sink where she can rinse out her cup.
    Her mind is spinning. She fears Emma is compromised. This is not how she has ever acted. Words from someone to live a little would not go to this extreme. Yet, Betsy has no proof. She simply knows that the Shadow King is involved and his powers are frightening. He has compromised so many other telepaths. If Emma is one of them, that needs to be corrected. If she is not, then they will likely never move past this day as anything but enemies. Because one thing Betsy will not hesitate to do is act if she feels it is necessary for the safety of her friends, co-workers and students.
    "Just remember, it is better to ask forgiveness than permission." It might sound like she is encouraging Emma's behaviour. Instead, it is a statement of what she will be dealing with in the future.
    As she moves past Emma, she brings up her hand behind the other woman's head. Then she draws on her powers, focusing them, centering them to that hand. One moment she is standing, the next her psiblade appears around her fist and should penetrate the head of Emma. It is the full force of her powers, enough to scramble a human mind and, if she is correct, break any tether to another entity.

Emma Frost has posed:
It's perhaps to Betsy's advantage that Emma keeps herself shielded from outside mental noises for the most part. Of course, she is connected to her King's network - there is always the sound of that screaming in her ears now, like a train in the distance, calling to her and reminding her that she'd found something bigger than herself.

In fact, it was this very little pleasure that distracted her while Betsy drew upon her powers and takes that strike. It's probably the only thing that lets that strike true and sharp into Emma's psyche, slicing along the tethers of her connection to her King, causing her to cry out in real psychic pain, "NOOOO!!!"

There's a gasp from the woman, as she slumps and starts to convulse, the shock of the blow reverberating through her brain, and throwing up her most natural, and potent defense: her crystaline form. Which does make a second strike much more difficult, given the form's defenses, but, it also allows Emma time to regroup and realize what has just happened, and to formulate how to proceed.

"What did you do?" She asks, voice a warbled tinkle as Emma struggles to fully regain control of herself, settling into the form. "My mind.. you.. I can't hear it anymore. Something was in my mind. You did.. something."

Psylocke has posed:
    It had to be fast and hard. There was no other way with Emma. That form she took defensively would have prevented her getting in. Even without that, Emma's shields likely would have withstood anything Betsy could throw at them. Only by giving her a psionic sucker punch was there a chance of that working.
    As Emma cries out, Betsy is already stepping back and to the side, her cup abandoned on a nearby table. She has shored up her mental defenses into a formidable wall around her mind. Her hand still glows with that psionic blade as she moves within Emma's line of sight.
    "I used my psiblade. I'm sorry but I couldn't chance there being any warning. What was in there, Emma? What are you no longer hearing?"

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma doesn't have to fein fear and horror - all she needs to do is make it seem to be from another source. Instead of the lose of her King, make it the presence that had dwelled within her mind and gven her comfort that had been lacking. Instead of the continual howling shrieks of the tormented soul she'd help ensure would forever be damaged being lost to her, it would be the presense of those very sounds.

"He was there. I could hear Him.. them all. Making me want things.. making me.." Emma shudders. It's a leftover from the psychic blow, but it mirrors distaste. "Making me do things."

Emma looks about, eyes wide, looking for exits. Looking for all possible escape - like she's haunted, and not worried this facade won't be enough. "What if he's still there? I can't have someone in my mind. I can't be manipulated like that."

That she doesn't need to draw upon falseness to portray. Other than the Shadow King - who, in most truth hadn't done much more than nudge her in the direction she was already chosing and lay possibility at her feet - Emma detested anyone touching her mind. It was as inviolate as her body, and she'd long ago given up those pleasures when she'd found them to be nothing other than hollow.

Psylocke has posed:
    "It's alright, Emma. I understand. I had to deal with his network recently and your actions of late made me suspect he might have been able to influence you when you had gone to the Astral Plane unawares." For Betsy, she seems sincere. But looks can be deceiving.
    "Unfortunately, the only way to know is to look inside your mind and be sure the thread from his network has been broken. With your permission as it is the only way to be certain, for our safety as well. But I won't be able to do so with you in that form. You would have to shift back. Will you allow me to be sure it is gone?"

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma draws herself up tight, curling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms about them, tucking herself into as small a space as she can possibly occupy.

"I'm so alone, Betsy. It's so quiet now. I can't even hear myself."

She nods absently, though, because it's true, she'll have to shift back out of this form. And if what she has wrought with her words isn't enough to protect her, she will have to strike out at the other woman in a showdown she doesn't want to engage upon in Charles' mansion.

That way madness lies.

But she hadn't expected how lonely she'd be without the voices. Without her King in her head. Or that soft, lulling murmur of madness shrieking out in the darkness, terrified of the lights she had forever given him, to light his way.

Emma hadn't expected any of this, and she was truly terrified."And if you can't? If he's still there? What then?"

Psylocke has posed:
    "Then we have two choices. The first is the simplest. You shift back to this form and stay in it." Betsy wasn't sure she would voluntarily shift to this form if she was under the taint, since it would cut off any telepathic influence from outside. Even the network. Thus her feeling it had to be a surprise attack.
    "The other is more invasive. While I am inside your head, if I see that thread then I will force you to sleep. We would keep you under natural sedation once I can get you moved to the medlab. Then it would be up to Jean or the Professor to see if they can do more than I, since they are more powerful." Betsy has a lot of abilities and is a formidable telepath but she is below her peers.
    "It is your choice, Emma. Tell me what you want to do. Despite what you may think, I do care and I want you safe."

Emma Frost has posed:
It's a miserable shell of woman who remains in the curl she's taken upon her chair, pondering the options. Of the two, only one gave her any real chance of walking away from this and regaining what was lost. But it was also the one most liable to trigger Betsy's suspicions.

Which left the alternative - distasteful on every level that Emma could imagine. That alternative, however distasteful, was also Emma's best hope at convincing Betsy that she, Emma were free of the influence of the Shadow King.

It was a dangerous gamble, other than the fact that Emma had always been free of His influence; she'd been the one to approach him, to join her mind to his vastness; he hadn't coerced or forced Emma into anything.

Emma was fairly certain Betsy's psychic blade had done the deed. The complete lack of connection to anything, as much as the shock of the blow itself, had been what had thrown Emma into this state, needing her diamond form. Which gave Emma confidence that she could safely answer the other woman as to what choice to proceed with.

"Sleep," Emma murmurs. "I can't trust myself. It would be too easy for Him."

Which was nothing other than the utter and complete truth should Betsy be monitoring that. And, Jean, after all, was still in exile for fear of being used by the Shadow King. It all played out as a natural fear.

Only Emma never had any intentions of not going back.

Psylocke has posed:
As Emma shifted to her human form once again, Betsy realized she was allowing her the opportunity to look inside her head. "I give you my word, I won't do more than look for the thread," she promises as she moves back to the other side of the table to sit across from Emma.
    She doesn't really need to but she thought it would be more polite than looking over the woman while she worked. It shouldn't take long with Emma allowing her in. No battling her defenses or the like.
    A butterfly type aura in purple appeared around Betsy's eyes, like a strange mask with no real substance. With that, Emma will feel the light touch of Betsy's mind touching her own. It is not invasive but gentle as Betsy quickly reaches the area where the thread was located on all the others.
    Nothing. No screaming in the distance. No ethereal tendril floating through her mindscape to tether her to a monster.
    Just as quickly as she entered, Betsy withdraws, knowing Emma will sense she is no longer invading her mind. "It's gone. For now. We need to make a report of what happened. You must stay far from the Astral Plane. If he got you once, it may be easier for him to capture you again." Betsy is assuming it was all some form of possession by the Shadow King. She has no idea it was Emma's choice to be joined with him.
    "Thank you, Emma."

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma forces herself to hold still under Betsy's ministrations. Betsy would be right: asking permission doesn't make it any better for the woman. It's just as invasive as being physcially touched, and that Emma allows almost never.

Still, she holds, and waits for the all clear from the other woman before bristling, "Well, of course I'll stay away from the Astral Plane." As much as to say 'do you think I'm an idiot?'.

In truth, though, Emma is a little confused. The absence of everything makes her feel naked, and vulnerable, and exposed. But more, there's a duality of emotions there.

She remembers all the same things, and all the same needs and desires and compulsions surrounding Her king, and yet she feels removed from it all. What she does know is that she needs to find that one link - the one that's hidden away in the dessert, out of sight, and off of the radar for the most part. She misses how she felt while linked. Misses the feeling of fullness, and the tingle of awareness along her body. The clarity of emotions and the rush of power and control over herself.

"I trust you can make the report?" Knowing she will likely be asked to do so as well, but struggling to regain herself.

It was unexpected to not know how to feel after this. To find all her 'selves' marked with that phantom alien feeling. (Another reason she wanted to find her King again).

"If you don't mind, I think I need to beg off classes today. I've something of a headache and am not feeling very well."

Psylocke has posed:
    Although it was obviously the psiblade that caused the discomfort, Betsy has to bite back a comment abou the spiked coffee having something to do with it. She behaves. At least Emma is sounding more like her usual self now.
    "Of course, I will see if one of us can pick up the classes for you. If there is too much conflict, we'll postpone them until your return."
    She rises to her feet, picking up her abandoned tea cup and moving to the sink. A few moments to wash it out then rinse and set it in the small rack to dry. "Do you need assistance getting to your quarters?" Betsy is pretty sure of the answer but at least she offered to help, though she expects a tone much like the first answer about going to the Astral Plane. "If not, I will go send a report on what happened."

Emma Frost has posed:
"I'm hardly an invalid," Emma snaps, but with much less of her usual ire. "Honestly. It's not like I haven't come through worse."

Also true.

Unlike Betsy, Emma doesn't bus her dishes. She's still not totally herself as she makes her excuses to leave, and wanders away looking for her room. And she does go to her room - she's in no state mentally or physically to do anything more nefarious than that right now.

At the doorway to the lounge, Emma half turns, and considers the other telepath somewhat critically. "Thank-you Betsy." And with no further fanfare, carries on to sleep off the worst of this.