5684/Spite at the Museum

Spite at the Museum
Date of Scene:	30 October 2018
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Beast, Emma Frost

---

Beast has posed:
The Americasn Museum of Natural History is a mervelous place, full of wonders from Dinosaurs to ncient Civilizations to the cutting edge knowledge of astronomy. It is even open later, many nights, though some nights are busier than others. Tnight the museum seems mostly empty, with a few groups and sigletons making their way through the exhibits.

Which is perfectly fine in Henry McCoy's book.

The blue furred mutant, whom no one has seen hide nor tail of (literally) for months walks slowly among the renaisiance art displays, quietly inspecting statues and paintings. The very few who are also in this wing seem to give him a wide bearth, as he /is/ a blue furry mutant despite his nice suit. The guards seem less harrieed, since they have seen him here often and have come to realize that the doctor just wants time along to contemplate.

Emma Frost has posed:
It's not entirely happenstance that has Emma finding Hank here. Or Henry, depending upon who was speaking to him. She'd known he was missing from Xavier's without any stated reason, and frankly, with the way things were going on of late, he was no longer the only teacher who had withdrawn for 'personal reasons' as the official word went.

She, herself, had gone on voluntary vacation. Stated reasons to keep the students safe, and also to recuperate from her ordeal, but in reality a lot of it had to do with away from Xavier's she could attend to her real plans, which were to get back to into the Shadow King's grasp.

She couldn't say why she looked Hank up, but it amused her to do so. And once she'd set her mind to looking, he'd been findable easily enough.

Thus it is that one Emma Frost casually meanders the same museum halls as he, only from the opposite direction that they might meet in the middle.

Entirely by chance, of course... if you believed in such things.

Beast has posed:
Some would say that chance doesn't exist. And as a physicist (among his other knowledges) Henry would be one of the first to draw out a mathematical precise on the subject. if he felt like it. But Henry, and yes he is going more by Henry than the more familiar Hank these days, /doesn't/ feel like it. He hasn't felt like /anything/ good in a while, as the shortening of his temper before he left attestested.

Only now does he seem somewhat more calm than he had, lost among teh art of an Earlier age. Though it's just a veneer. Below the skin, and fur, his anger roils.. simmers.. His emotions clamour. And thats what is getting through the telepathic /shield/.

He stands before a small painting, depicting demons cavorting with humans.. It's a danish picture. The demon are furry things with sharp teeth, both chasing and being chased by humans. His eyes seem to lock onto one of the creatures. A blue one.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma's approach is cautious. She doesn't need to feel him to see how angry and upset he is, even through that thin veneer of calm. She's not the businesswoman she is for lack of ability to read another. Her telepathic and psionic abilities are just an added bonus to that.

When she reaches where he stands, she stands in companionable silence for long moments, waiting to see if he'll acknowledge her. The subject matter of the painting he's fixated on is not lost upon her.

Beast has posed:
Does he notice her approach? His hearing is superior to a humans, even better than a cat's. His sense of smell rivals Wolverines. And his memory, well.. He remembers her gait, that lazy arrogance in her walk as she sashays.. He knows her scent, both natural and augmented by the most subtle of fragrances money can buy. So he doesn't have to turn from the painting to know she is here.

"Ms. Frost." he rumbles, hs voice a but huskier then it used to be. "I did not take you for an admirer of Early Renaissance artworks."

Emma Frost has posed:
"Emma," the woman tells him without taking her eyes away from the painting. "And you know very little about me Mr. McCoy. You shouldn't be so quick to pass judgement upon that you do not know."

Still, she doesn't seem offended. At least not any more than her usual.

"I'm more curious why you're interested in this painting. You've been missed, you know."

Beast has posed:
Beast still doesn't look away from the picture, nore the two others near by with simlar scenes. Humans and demons.. Beasts. "It was not a judegment... Emma." he says, and though he is growling a little it is constrained.. and his tone is honest. "I just pictured you as someone who would prefer the later art movements. Something brighter in colour with less anthropomorphasized monsters." he tells her.

He then straightens a bit. "Why am I interested?" Let me ask you.. Emma. Do you think someone drew as a form of symbolism?" he asks. "OR perhaps these monsters /did/ exist. That maybe they weren't actually monsters but, perhaps, /your/ ancestors. Or mine?"

Emma Frost has posed:
"I prefer people not to know what I like, Hank. You can't be manipulated by weapons if another doesn't hold them." Her regard for the painting is neither appreciative, nor one of disdain. It's merely regard.

When he asks her, though, about monsters, she half turns her head to consider his visage. "You are familiar with the origins of Alchemy, are you not?"

Beast has posed:
Beast snorts a little. "Ah yes always projecting the best image as an armour. It isn't enough that you can pass for human easily nor delve in people's minds and make them think somethig else. No, you must go the step further to hide yourself from the world even more out of a sense of paranoia that puts everyone elses to shame.."

He then finally looks at her. "and yes, I amq uite familiar with Alchemy and it's origins. And not just the fictional nonsense about Transmutaton and Immortality."

Emma Frost has posed:
For the moment, Emma ignores the slights about her persona in the world.

"Alchemy was a metphor for spiritual transformation. It was never about base metals being turned into gold. The ideal was the transmutation of the baseness of mankind into the more Divine nature of the immortal soul as seen in the glory of God." She shrugs. "If you believe such things."

"My point is, the monsters have always been amongst us. They are us, Hank. Both metaphorically and literally. You ask a question that has more philosophy than fact. And in light of what we are, don't you think it rather short-sighted to attempt to pigeon hole matters into the literal?"

She turns and fully faces him now. "So the question is, are you a monster. Is that not what you truly mean to ask me?" Her glance falls back upon the painting. "We existed then. But we weren't captured in art. We weren't even inspiration for it. They were always more concerned with the conceptual than the actual. To have sullied things with reality would have been beneath them. Too dirty. Too real."

She speaks the words with a cutting edge of disdain - and not her usual, even. Something more to it. Something deeper and more profound.

"You wonder why I hide? You're looking at the painting. You tell me."

Beast has posed:
Beast does listen. He may not like what she is saying, nor agree with any of it, but he /is/ listening. The furry blue feline sapien.

"I do not need to ask you if I am a monster, Emma. I KNOW I am a monster. And worse, one not only by birth but also attenuated and self made. I have made things that hurt our kind. I may not have meant to, but I did.."

He paws curl up at his sides.

"Everything I worked for, to help us has been used to hurt us more. They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Well My intentions were the best. To help mutantkind and humanity. Instead my discoveries were used to take CONTROL of mutants, or supress their abilities...."

Emma Frost has posed:
"You want sympathy, Hank? Or do you want confirmation of what you say."

She lets him wallow in his anger and misery for some long moments while she considers which she is willing to offer him.

"I the beginning, there was the Light. And of that Light, the world and all that was in it came into being. Only before the light, there was Darkness. And I don't mean that in the biblical Lucifer sense. Not even in that of the Devil or Satan. There are older things than you or I, Hank, that have inhabited existence for time immemorial."

She smiles at the painting, pointing to brush strokes, and to choices of colour. "We were always the monsters. Or they were. It's all semantical. I refuse to offer sympathy when it won't help you or I an iota. Do you not think I don't understand? The devices I created to enhance telepathic abillities are only a concept away from dampening them. Dampeners exist. Neither fact changes that I created them to allow us to do better things with less effort. It doesn't take a genius to know how that could be abused."

A light smile hovers on her lips. "Can you imagine the fear if word were to be out that I, Emma Frost, didn't just invent such devices, but in my own hands, they could be devastating?"

"You may be a monster by birth, Hank McCoy, but you aren't one of your own making unless you allow it. You did not turn those devices into what they became. And you're a smart enough man to know the folly of taking the guilt of that onto yourself. Unless the point is you want to feel guilty and are looking for an excuse to expend that anger you're holding onto."

Pointedly, "I'd thought better of you than that."

Beast has posed:
Beast grits his teeth, his sharp white animal teeth and clenches his eyes shut. His nostrils flare as he takes slow, calming breaths, like he is having trouble keeping his control. The painting no lnge exists for him. The museum doesnt exist for him, not as a calming force and connectio to his humanity at any rate.

"Your telepathic enhancers may be one step away from dampeners, but I /designed/ dampeners. I was the one who discovered how to synthasize Mutant growth Hormone. It is what made me what I am now. And I DESTROYED thatw ork. And somehow someone got their hands on it. And it doesn't matter what they did with it. /I/ created it."

He seethes. "You never thought better of anyone in your life. If you did you wouldn't hide yourself as much as you do. And I don;t care if you /did/ Emma. You don't understand. You may be able to read peoples minds. You may be able to see their experiences. But they still aren't your experiences. I'm /guilty/. Do you get it. To quite Robert Oppenheimer, who quoted Bhagavad Gita, when he created the nuclear bomb... I am become death, the destroyer of worlds.

Emma Frost has posed:
There's a short laugh from Emma. "Funny how similar our thoughts were. I'm sure you thought the dampeners were a good idea. I don't even have fault with that. They're only tools after all."

It's the other, though that's the crux, or so she believes. It leaves her nodding. "Ah so that's what this is about, then. Because someone stole work you destroyed in order to create more of us on unsuspecting humans who wouldn't otherwise have turned into the monsters that we are."

She inhales deeply, then exhales slowly. "What is it you want, Hank. Permission to rage? To hate yourself? To do even less good in this world for the people you love?" She makes a considered noise in the back of her throat. Not quite disdain; not quite boredom. "Then you truly will have failed. Of course, that is the simpler answer, isn't it. Give in. Let rage and guilt consume you until there is no more need to take responsibility for your actions. To make moral choices. You'll be nothing more than what you define yourself as, without any of the culpability. Nobody expects more of monsters, do they?"

He's treated to a calm, but cold look when he seethes at her. "You know nothing of me. In fact, you are exactly what you accuse me of. You've been both judge and jury of me without the benefit of even trying to look beneath the facade or the veneer. You believe I wouldn't stoop to think a kind thought about another, while simultaneously relegating me to nothing more than a reason to scrape your feet upon the doormat, like you've stepped in something unpleasant?"

Another of those noises. "I suppose that makes me guilty as well, for not trying to rise above your expectations. For being merely the monster you view me as. I'm not sure which of us that makes more disappointing. But I do know he was not the only mind in the world bent upon that task. History is populated with simultaneous discovery. The Germans and the Russians both were racing to Oppenheimer's end."

"The difference, my dear Hank, the thing that sets us apart from those monsters you want to believe you are, is that fact that you understand what it is you have done. The sin isn't in the creating, but in the failure to accept that there is nothing of discovery that doesn't come with a cost. It is the price of being human, Hank. It always has been."

Beast has posed:
Beast turns on his heel and suddenly seems much much bigger than she does. The furry blue mutant actually LOOMS over the blonde telepath, his snout twistred in a snarl. "MGH /kills/ us, Emma. I created it as a failed attempt to CURE me. Instead it turned me into an animal. LITERALLY. It ENHANCED my mutation. And the version that others now peddel BURNS mutants out. And temporarilly gives HUMANS powers, and burns THEM out. So /yes/ Yes I am the damned judge and jury. Of /Myself/." he roars, the steps foreward.

"My damned job was to cause /no harm/. That was the vow I took. Oh, 've bent it. I've bedraggled my oath. But This time I outright /broke/ it. And I didn't even MEAN to."

Emma Frost has posed:
The impact of that isn't lost upon her, and yet, she remains calm under that snarling regard of his. Those bitten out words that are thrown at her.

"Nothing you've said changes the truth of what I've said, Hank," she tells him quietly. Softly, even. "If you truly didn't understand the impact of your error, then you'd be a monster, truly. As it is, you're nothing more than the rest of us, human. Or as human as we get. Fallible. Prone to mistakes. To pride. To the inevitable fall."

Her gaze is oddly sympathetic in that moment. "I might ask why you were trying to cure any of us, Hank, even yourself. I don't think we are a thing to cure. There was folly in that, but the rest?" She takes a considered and thoughtful breath, exhaling slowly as her thoughts gather. "Why, Hank? Why did you hate yourself so much that you sought a cure for what you are." She hazards that part of the problem lies in that. That his anger and his guilt isn't entirely centered on what MGH has become, but the reason it was created in the first place.

Beast has posed:
Beast takes a deep breath, his eyes clenched shut as he turns away.. The dark blue felinoid's shoulders quiver so slightly. There is something beyond the guilt and anguish below that fur. On a psychic level one could feel, even while not trying, the anger within him. Anger that tears at his human core, fueled by The Beast that is has become les and less skin deep (despite his visage). The BEast that he tries so damnend hard to keep in it's cage. Something that has in recent months been harder and harder.

"I hated myself because I was /afraid/. I could barely hide what I was /before/ this.." he says, remembering when he was younger.. No fur but with an almost bestial physicque he could only hide behind clothes and then only barely. He thinks back to accidently showing off his abiliies in college, and using them to become popular.. A football star.. But then a jealous fellow student outed him and the school turned on him... the following mob chasing him into his lab... Him using his coporate funded research to try and cure himself but making his mutation worse...

"I hated myself because no one would accept me for what I was. I knew I couldn't hide what I was forever. It was a DIFFERENT time. I used my college grant from Roxxon for my own project on the side, lying to myself that it was for others who needed it.. Mutants with physical deformations too harsh for them to live comfortably and with dignity. I sullied my work with /lies/ because of my own self loathing for being this atavistic freak and I paid for it by becoming a TRUE animal!"

His voice has gotten huskier, darker. "And now it's getting worse..."

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma is nonplussed, as is most often her way. "And now it's getting worse."

She exhales with something of a short burst of breath.

"If that isn't a loaded statement, I don't know what one is. However, I really must ask /what/ is getting worse? Your self-loathing? The situation for these mutants you told yourself you were saving? Or this anger yuo've got bubbling up inside you threatening to overtake you at any moment, because I must tell you my shields are rather impressive and you're doing a fine job of crumbling the edges of them. Were you another I'd have dealt with this matter already. As it it, I've half a mind to act first and beg forgiveness later with that regard."

Implying there are things she could do to deal with so many of his problems, and suggesting she hasn't always employed such methods ethically.

Beast has posed:
Beast suddenly turns and half crouches, his hands at his sides, paws up and claws bared as he growls... And though he is crouched Hank seems.. bigger now. The Beast rattles at that inner cage, denting it, but there is still a cold core of control keeping it locked in.

"You will /not/ 'deal' with it, Emma." he rumbles, like a lion or tiger and takes a step closer. "Do you hear me? I went to a school, I /taught/ at a school, with telepaths. You think I have not taken precautions? if you think you are going to delve into my mind and /fix/ things then think again. You are /no/ Charles Xavier.

His nostrils flare and he stops advancing, just barely within her personal space. "The /Beast/ is getting worse, Emma. It is growing. Because I was so starved for.. companionship. For a connection with someone.. For 'love' that I became involved with a mutant from another world whose the power to /repress/ mutations. Everytime we were alone I could be /Hank/ McCoy, Human. I could be loved without a partner being judged being into 'Beastiality'. But I couldn't be with her every waking and unwoken minute, could I? And each time we parted I became.. This." he motions to himself.

"Back and forth, The Beast washing back, human back to mutant, the atavistic traits, the animal hormones and pheromones washing eroding away years of control like a tide washing away a beach. This isn't mental, Emma. This is /Physical/. I don't have 'powers'. Everything I am is /nature/ and I cannot keep denying /nature/. I Anger. I /Hunger/. "

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma actually laughs at the outburst, albeit softly.

"My dear Hank, do you honestly think you need to come at me like I'm some peon who can be cowed by your anger? Did you see me try to do anything? Or did I merely suggest?" She shakes her head in a negligent and dismissive manner. "You truly underestimate me. And while I may not be a Charles, Charles can not best me in this area. When it comes to these particular skills, I can confidently say I am not outdone by anyone."

Another shrug, and still with that same negligent calm as though she'd paid five bucks at the local carnival only to find the house of horrors filled with garish clowns on sticks that pop out after announcing themselves with an audible click, and a laugh track that wasn't synced.

"As to the argument of powers vs nature, you are aware I'm not limited to inhibiting powers, yes? If I wished, I could change your personality to fit some benign vision, and that, my dear, /is/ affecting nature. So, you see, you would be wrong. However, I see no need. I don't find that your problem is as great as you make it out to be. I would suggest some of it is merely because you are denying yourself. You fight your own nature, and thus the beast within rebels more strongly. To what end? I do not know."

She makes a considered noise. "I certainly wouldn't have judged you for your nature."

Beast has posed:
Beast growls, teeth clenched.. No.. FANGS clenched. "Oh yes, because thats how you fix everything, is it not? A bit of a psychic nip here, a tuck there. A bit of telepathic remodeling. Thats all you need, isn't it, to make the world fit /your/ view. Your wants. Your needs."

He cant's his leonine head, snorting. "And how has that worked for /you/, Emma, in the past? Maybe you have a bit of self loathing yourself, Hmmm? Maybe thats why you are so good at changog others.. Because it is oh so much easier then changing /yourself/." he accuses her lowly.

Then he scoffs. "And please. You judge EVERYONE for their nature. Or else you wouldn't have the opinions you have."

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma's eyes narrow down ever so fractionally upon Hank. "I didn't see you having to defend yourself, Hank. Nor did I see any of your supposed measures employed to protect yourself from the likes of me. I would assume, that were they are potent as you claim, that you'd know if I tried something, and given no measures were needed, I might suggest you consider how quick you are to judge me while reviling me for my assumed judging of others."

Now it's her turn to exhale with a snort of breath.

"You know nothing of who or what I am. You only know what you're allowed to see. And you only get to see those measures because that's all you've earned. You might be shocked to realize what goes on beneath the surface. Of course, you'd have to come down from that high horse of yours and actually extend even an iota of consideration and compassion for another to even begin walking down that path. Your words are an excellent mirror for your own actions, I would say."

The rest she shakes her head at and merely repeats, "You know nothing of what I really think."

He gets a long look. "Care to be enlightened? Because I think you make assumptions you have no right to make. You have no idea how I regard mutants or mutant kind. I would suggest that before you condemn and revile me that you at least take the time to know what it is I actually do believe."

Beast has posed:
Beast clenches his digit again, his claws almost digging into his palms as his anger surges at her arrogance.. her high and mightiness. "oh, of course /you/ never have to make assumptions, do you? You can just read everyoene like a book. We guess what? Not everyone gets that luxury. And that doesn't mean you get the context either." he rumbles even lower now.

"You are right, I know 'nothing' of what you do, for some definitions of nothing. I just know what you SHOW people. What you 'allow' them to see, by your very words. Well guess what? How is that any different from hiding what you are? You are using semantics to cover the fact that you are just as scared and loathing as the rest of us are and feel you have to camoflage yourself. The only difference is you can get away with it."

Emma Frost has posed:
"So you say," Emma remarks without denying a thing, but neither does she confirm. "Though if that is to goad me into declaring to the world that I'm a mutant, I'm afraid I'm not about to be browbeaten into that. I can do much more good from the position I'm in than as a revealed mutant. And for what it's worth, I don't hate what I am."

What, not who - now there's semantics for you.

"You'd be wrong if you think I go about reading everyone I meet. I rarely employ my abilities, Hank. I don't have to. In business, I find it easy to read others like books based on their actions and words, if not their intents. As for others, I find it simplest to allow others to divulge who and what they truly are merely by being myself with them." She smiles a cold little smile. "I find if I am only what you see, people are quite quick to reveal how petty and shallow they are. It's easy to be kind and welcoming to someone who isn't unpleasant, isnt it Hank? But when faced with someone like myself, you all turn into your true selves. Hypocrits, all."

Not to mention the fact that the world is a noisy place without her shields up and activated. Most people don't warrant the effort it would take to listen in on their actual thoughts, not when she can find out just as much about them in exactly the fashion she's just described.

Beast has posed:
Beast grits his teeth so tightly they seem to creak, his snout are scrunched up so that his fangs are very pronounced. This isn't a form of intimidation, it's an expression of distaste. "Rarely isnot /never/ Emma. Do not tell me you have never cheated. Do not insult me this way. At least I am /honest/ that I am a Hypocrit." he huffs.

"And you do not need to declare yourself anything. Because how could anyone KNOW if it was actually the truth? You've played your cover for so long I doubt you even know who you truly are, any more. You probably believe all the lies you've told others all these years. That is where we're the same. We've told ourselves lies so much we believed them. The difference is I have admitted my faults, though to /you/ of all people.." he shakes his head violently.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma inhales and exhales in slow, even measures. Each nearly exactly as long as the other. "No. I never said never. There was a time when I employed my abilities almost constantly. I was scrabbling tooth and nail to get ahead. I didn't consider it cheating, but my just dues. I didn't consider it unworthy, I considered the fools I was misleading not worth anything more of the truth of myself. And slowly I realized that I didn't need it. That I could manipulate people just as well without raising the barest pinky finger of my abilities. I learned to cold read people based on posture, movement, words, something as simple as how they breathed. And I took great pride in it, because I could have used my abilities and been nothing more than my mutant self, only I didn't need to."

She turns to regard the painting again.

"It was as simple as that. I wasn't Emma Frost mutant. Or Emma Frost businesswoman. Not even Emma Frost black sheep and failure to her family. I was merely Emma Frost."

Her glance flicks over and then away again.

"I don't expect you to understand. I didn't expect anyone to understand. You want truths? You want revelations? I didn't have Xavier's school when my parents kicked me out. I had the road and what I could cobble together of a life. I didn't know who or what I was and there wasn't a way for me to find out. I floundered and failed more times than I care to admit, and every time I got back up again and vowed that I wouldn't let someone hurt me in the same manner ever again."

Her tones grow clipped. Protected. Darker.

"I know what I am. Who I am. Only I'd rather be what people think I am than accept the lies they'd feed me only because I was pleasant. By and large, the lot of you treat me like I'm something to scrape off the bottom of your shoes. You say you're good people, but you're only good to those who conform. You're right, though. I am a hypocrit. I care. I care deeply about people and things I'd rather not admit. Not because they make me human, but because I would rather not give you the satisfaction. If my worth to you is only in my conforming to your ideals, then I'd rather be a lie."

She half turns and gives him an emotionless look. "And before you snarl your answer at me, consider why I've told you any of this at all, Hank McCoy, when I could have walked on by and ignored you and your fate."

Beast has posed:
Beast silently listens, clenching and unclenching his paws.. eyes closed.. his breathing low and shaky.. THe ange rin his BEast sethes and lashes out, but he keeps it at bay, allowing her words.. teh tone of her voice.. to seep in. "Your worth to /me/, Emma, has been as a foil, philosophically and intellectually." he says, his voice a husky rasp. "I have never hated you. I may not like some of the things I believe you have done.. Things I know from rather indepth research on you from numerous sources... Things peiced together by actions and reactions.. But I have never /hated/ you. You think I don't KNOW you care?" he asks, and opens his eyes.

"I am not an /emotional/ idiot. I can see you care, even to your own detriment, and that your caring SCARES you. That it is one of MANY reasons you wear this.. armour of yours.

"But it doesn't matter if yyou didn't have a Xavier's school, then. I didn't have one either. None of us original students did, in the beginning, We lived with ourselves as we were for /years/. ANd because we didn't have A Xaviers, we helped CREATE Xaviers. You think charles came up tith th idea all in his lonesome? We weren't just the FIrst Class, Emma. We BUILT Xavier's WITH Charles so people would have a place. So what people DIDN'T have, they then WOULD. And guess what, You're part of that as well. You may not have had It THEN, but that is a MOOT point. You are there /now/ As much to help those who didn't have a place, just as you didn't as child, as much as for you to /be/ helped..."

Emma Frost has posed:
"Well, you'd be in the minority, Hank. Most find it easier to take what I project at face value. It fits better with their world view. Makes it easier for them to dismiss me."

She shrugs, and she regards him, the cool of her gaze dropping away then, leaving nothing but simplicity behing, and what, one might presume, is merely Emma. "I came to Xavier's for one reason only. I had a student who needed what I couldn't give him. Once I lost the Academy, all hope there was in helping him faded away. I ate my pride to give him a future. And not a single person at Xavier's has once looked past the facade to consider why I'm even there. There are reasons I don't show my face, Hank."

Beast has posed:
Beast looks away, unable to look her in the eye now. Still angry, but once again most of that anger is directed at him and no one else. "Then maybe we are just as wrong as you have been.. I never claimed me and my friends were perfect.. Far from it." he says.

"what you did for your student, teh actions you have partaken are.. commendable. What else can I say? Far more then mine have been at any rate."

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma exhales and what tension had been in her frame dissipates. "What was there to say. It wasn't anyone's business, and I refuse to buy people's affection. Their regard of me has no bearing on who or what I am. I knew why I came to Xavier's. If others preferred to think worse of me, that was hardly my fault."

Beast has posed:
Beast echales loudly, a chuffing sound, his back turned to the other teacher... and he hangs his head. The Beast's anger has dissipated much, as well.. Oh, there is SOME of that edge there but the entire conversation has..drained much of it from him. "For my friends, and myself.. I apologize, Emma." he says softly. "Truly, I do. I know I don't have the right to apologize for them, but I must. I know you haven't been treated as fairly as you shuld have been, even though many times it felt like you were pushing us to do just that.. For that... well... MY own actions were not acceptable."

Emma Frost has posed:
There's an almost non-challant posture to the woman. "It's alright, Hank. I don't expect more of people, so it's hardly a disappointment when they don't rise above my very low estimation of what to expect. I find most people are quite happy with their hypocrisy. I'm not sure that mine is better, but I do have the satisfaction of treating everyone equally as poorly as one another."

With some very few exceptions. The truly observant might note her fondness for the younger mutants is a thing she often fails to hide in unguarded moments when she thinks she's not being observed. But even then it's a rarity - not the caring, for she always cares, but those softer moments where her guard is down.

"Apology accepted. Though I'm not sure where that leaves us."

Beast has posed:
Beast shrugs a little and looks down at his feet. "I do not know where, either, Emma. But I do know that I /do/ expect more out of people. Maybe I shouldn't, but I do. And I expect more out of myself.. Something that has haunted me more and more as of late.. The inability to be more."

Emma Frost has posed:
He's regarded for long moments. Dryly, then, "I suppose it would be silly to return to our former state of antagonism after this. So we may as well dismiss that. I warn, though, it's been some time since I've employed my more sincere self so do expect some rust along the way."

She almost grins as she says that.

"As for you, it's fine to expect more of yourself, Hank. It isn't fine to beat yourself up for failing to reacch impossibly high standards. Not when I suspect your standards are set that high simply so that you can beat yourself up over them. The self-loathing that allows keeps you from ever exploring and examining the true reasons you fail to integrate yourself. You are both sides of this coin you try to isolate into two separate beings. What do you think might happen if instead of considering yourself Hank McCoy human, and Beast the animal, you considered yourself Hank McCoy, flawed mutant, trying to rise above his baser nature and be an example of what it is to not merely be what others see in us?"

She reaches over and pats his hand in a gesture so fleeting it might be imagined. "I like the man I see. Snarls and growls and all. He's much more interesting than the facade you'd like to hide behind."

Beast has posed:
The gesture may be fleeting, but with his hypersenttivity Hank pulsl back and flinches.. It could be for a number of reasons but there is an overpowering pulse of fear that lasts only a moment NOt of her, but FOR her.. As if he is afraid he'd hurt her somehow. He then realizes his faux pas and looks a bit abashed.

"Sorry..." he murmurs, self conciously. Then he nods. "And I like the woman as she is, cold or not."

Emma Frost has posed:
The flinch is noted. It may or may not leave her somewhat saddened. "You do realize you can't actually hurt me, yes?"

He might be animalistic, or even if he chooses to consider himself so, fully animal, but she's not without her own protections. At the very least she isn't afraid of him, though she might not wish to put her theory that he can't hurt her to the test.

There's a low chuckle, then, as he proclaims he likes her. "You certainly did a good job of hiding that liking. Of course, I did very little to discourage that hiding." There's a pause before she admits, "It's easier being her. You were correct about that. I'm not sure I'm built for rejection. At least this way all the rejection I receive is built upon a falsehood. I never have to consider that possibly there truly is nothing likeable about me."

Beast has posed:
Beast snorts now and crosses his arms against his chest, though in a way it is him hugging himself as well.. a comfort after his anger and guilt. "Yes, Emma.. Yes I can hurt you. This is not me being arrogant. This is not me being superior. I can hurt you, and everyone else. One way or another. " he says and it is delivered with an almost Emma-COld assurity.. and also saddness as well.

But he shakes himself free of that, at least for now, and nods at her admission. "It is easier me being 'Him'.. Hank I mean. Bbecause I was him. And still am. It was easier to live with all the rejections I have endured in my life with 'educated pomp' and humility. But times are chaning.. /I/ am changing."

Emma Frost has posed:
"There are many ways you could hurt me, Hank, and I may regret letting you in as far as I have all things considered, but I doubt physically is one I shall worry about. You have your secrets. I have mine."

He's treated to an enigmatic little smile. "I think it fair to say we both have the capacity to hurt one another, and leave it that at this moment we both would prefer not to?"

Beast has posed:
Beast thinks for a moment.. And nods. "That is logical." he agrees and then smirks a bit. "You are a hard woman, Emma."

Emma Frost has posed:
There's a light tinkle of laughter from Emma, who quirks a brow at the felinoid man, "Oh? do explain that one, my dear Hank. I'm dreafully afraid it could be taken so many ways, and I'd hate to put words in your mouth."