80/Log 80

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Log 80
Date of Scene: 19 April 2017
Location: Unknown
Synopsis: Summary needed
Cast of Characters: Emma Frost, Raven




Emma Frost has posed:
There are roads in the park, if you're willing to look for them and drive extremely slowly to take care of passengers and pedestrians alike. Rollling up slowly, the british luxury car stops not too far from Raven's position in the park before the rear window rolls down and a blonde woman peeks her head out. "Rachel, you don't look very hungry just floating there." Teases the CEO with a hint of a smile on her cherry painted lips.

Raven has posed:
    Raven sits a foot off the ground where you met her, the backs of her hands resting on her knees, meditating. She's still dressed as Raven, in a sleeveless, dark blue leotard that begins as a choker around her pale throat and terminates in long, wide loincloth-flaps in front and back, their flowing lengths a complement to hooded cloak held in place over her shoulders by a large red-black gem clasped above her breasts. Because of the unlikely, pointed, beak-like shadow her hood casts over her face, the long, blue gloves that go up just past mid-bicep, and the thigh-high blue boots, the only skin showing is a bit of upper arms, the highest part of her thighs, and a little hip, and the lowest half of her face; and of those, only her face is completely unclad, as black strings of fishnet criss-cross over her limbs and hips. When you speak, she opens her eyes slowly and expressionlessly, rising up to a standing position with that same, practiced grace and answers, flat, creaky voice pitched in the aural equivalent of a shrug, "How hungry I am depends on what's for dinner." If you're scanning her again, she's fully in control now, her reserve fully refreshed, her mind and heart cold and clear. "You didn't need to send a car. I can fly."

Emma Frost has posed:
The car door opens towards Raven before Emma scoots back over to the far side to give Raven a place to sit down. "I didn't need to do any of this Raven, but I'd like to. You are awfully interesting and I get this funny feeling that you are very special." The telepath smirks, playing up to Raven's pride to convince her that the mutant is someone worth knowing.

"Come." Emma says patting the seat of the plush chair, and adding, "You tell me what you'd like to eat, and I'll take you to the best version of that in the city."

Raven has posed:
    Raven isn't a telepath, isn't anywhere near Emma's level, but she is empathic, and she senses the cynical game being played with that bit of flattery. Still, sure she can take care of herself and having nothing better to do, Raven walks (rather than levitates) over to the offered door and climbs in with you. She sits with her knees and ankles together, and her palms on her lap. "Okay, thanks. And for dinner...surprise me."

Emma Frost has posed:
"Bently, take us to Sushi Yasuda." The older woman says as she turns slightly in her seat so her leg is up on the middle and he props her arm between the back rest and her hair while looking at Raven with studious eyes.

"Tell me a little about yourself Raven. I am nearly certain that's not your real name, but it suits you well and it rolls of the tongue exquisitely."

Raven has posed:
    There's another challenge for you in her mind, a kind of dark amusement that compels Raven to explain flatly, "My name is Raven of Azerath. My mother was born in Gotham and is none of your business. My father is the demon Trigon, eater of worlds, making me half-demon. My existence is a constant state of corruption against the fabric of the spirit realms, which I can direct to my will through magical forms. I'm here on Earth because it's far away from my father and because I thought humanity might be worth looking at. What about you, Emma?"

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma nods slowly, her eyes remain focused but don't seem quite surprised by the woman or her tale as she saw the visuals Raven conjurs up mentally as she talks about herself and past. Emma to her credit doesn't seem flustered by any of this. She knows Mystique and her wildly similar history.

"Me, I don't have quite as colored of a past, but I had to bust my ass day in and day out in order to prove to myself and my family that I am not some pretty girl meant to be a mindless trophy wife like my mother was. Or like how my sisters wound up. Being protected by daddy and his trust fund. No. I earned and strived for everything in my life and world."

The car continues slowly through the park making it's polite way without hitting anything or anyone that could cause damage. There's some subtle music on turned down to be barely audible to not interrupt any conversation.

Emma continues, "I am running a school besides my business as well, I want to help others and grow them into the best versions of themselves."

Raven has posed:
    Raven is silent as you give your story, her face and mind impassive. When you talk about being a trophy wife, her gaze does flick to your hair and lips, but without any emotional resonance to the act, just observation. When you stop speaking, Raven just says, "And that's what you want me for." It isn't a question, but it is an invitation to elaborate.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma pushes her hair behind her shoulder, as her icey eyes linger on Raven's, "I think we could certainly help each other out. Your," pause " checkered past isn't an issue with me. We all come from different places, but we all are headed to the same future. Why not make it our way, in our own vision?" Emma says, her lips curling with the promise of pleasure, power, and prestige. She extends her hand across the cabin, inviting Raven to accept her proposal to be a changer, maker and shaker in this world.

Raven has posed:
    Raven looks down at your hand, and there's something in her mind, a feeling birthed and killed so fast if it was a breeze, it wouldn't even ruffle the pages of a newspaper sitting on a table. It is a greedy yearning to touch you, to slide her palm along your own. Raven ignores it and almost ignores your hand: she doesn't shake it, but bunches the tips of her fingers together and lightly taps the inside of your palm, whatever THAT gesture means, before withdrawing her hand to her lap. "What exactly are you offering me, and what do you want in return?"

Emma Frost has posed:
"I want you to be the best you there can be. I want to teach you how to become her." Emma says, blinking just once at her open palm after the odd finger poke response and pulls it back to rest on her tucked leg. "Now, I am curious. Seeing you float seems simple enough for you, tell me, what else can you do Raven?" The telepath asks, able to find out in an instant everything the girl can do and more, but she doesn't, she lets Raven tell her and grow their relationship.

Raven has posed:
    Raven glances at the crossed legs you rest your hand on; she can't help it, and by this point you probably expect no less than for people to check out your legs. Nevertheless, she's calm as the grave as she explains, "I manipulate a higher order of reality--you might call it the spirit world--and the changes I make there are reflected here. You? I know you're psychic."

Emma Frost has posed:
    Leaning forward a bit, Emma does seem a bit surprised by that. "Oh. You do? Please, tell me how you came to this speculation." The white queen is impressed, this girl is magnificent and very head strong while sounding incredibly outrageous at the same time. Emma does note all the glances and stares, but she doesn't press that issue with the girl, yet.

The Bently finally leaves the park and is on the normal roads as it continues to drive the two to the sushi place as requested.

Raven has posed:
    Raven isn't smug, just utterly sure of herself as she explains, "Telepathy is a physical process. It creates energy waves of a specific vibrational frequency different from normal thought. Using your power to read me creates ripples I can detect, and even if I couldn't detect those, I could feel your...desire for my mind." Your surprise is gratifying; your being impressed is moreso.

Emma Frost has posed:
"So you're an accute empath as well. Raven, you are full of surprises." Emma says, taping her button nose with a finger and a wink. Then she turns her head to peak out the window as the car pulls over to a parking spot.

"It appears we're here. You're welcome to leave if you don't like my offer, you're free to leave any time." Emma does offer Raven the gift of choice, but Raven would also know she's being genuine on all of prior extensions and there's more that Emma hasn't revealed. Then a simple thought enters Raven's head, an alien though. <<I desire more than your mind. Rachel.>>

Emma climbs out and extends her hand back in to help Raven out and move quickly into the restaurant.

Raven has posed:
    Raven's eyes narrow at your intrusive thought identifying her by that name. It wasn't a protected secret, but she never thought of it at all today; she had abandoned it to be Raven again. That you know it, and that you didn't seem to exert any great energy to learn it, suggests your abilities have surgical precision. She doesn't take your offered hand, instead getting out of the car without using her hands at all; she's eighteen and strong. Her hands take the edges of her cloak, holding it steady so it doesn't flap in the breeze, though it does billow into round shapes not unlike a bird asleep in its nest as Raven follows you in. She immediately attracts stares, but she neither acknowledges nor comments on them. She doesn't care.

Emma Frost has posed:
"Did I cross a line?" Emma asks, smiling playfully as she rescinds her hand and walks into the restaurant, not worried about the stares at all, walking up to the hostess and saying, "Two, Frost suite please." The CEO commands a certain level of respect and awe, from the staff as she is led to a specific table. A circular booth in an upstairs part of the dinning lobby that provides a discreat eating experience for various VIPs.

Raven has posed:
    "It's fine," Raven says coldly, though everything she's said lately has been pretty cold. She follows you into the restaurant and your 'private suite;' and maybe for the first time tonight, her hands leave her sides. She runs them over her butt, smoothing out the back side of her loincloth before she takes a seat, so she won't be sitting on any wrinkles, then gathers her cloak tightly around her for the same reason and sits. "So. You've been speaking pretty vaguely. Tell me what you mean by 'making me the best me I can be.'"

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma stands outside of the booth for a couple of moments as she shrugs off the blazer and sets it down on the inside of her plush chair and follows suit, her eyes moving past the menu already on the table to Raven's eyes. "You remind me of myself Raven, and I sense a great well of potential not only for your abilities, but your mind as well. You have the potential to be one of the greatest most powerful persons this planet has seen. I want to get you there."

Raven has posed:
    <Sounds like something Trigon would say,> Raven thinks, a thought she permits to occur fully without trying to control it. It is colored with visions of apocalypse; of the planet's earth and stone turning to fire, and hordes of demons descending from holes in the night sky upon the burning inhabitants of the planet. The horrific images neither upset nor titillate her. She just looks at you impassively, takes one of the little paper sheets from the a la carte menu, and ticks off a few items without looking at them. "You might be sorry you helped with that."

Emma Frost has posed:
"There's more possibilities than that one Raven." Emma notes aloud. "The future is not written, and we both know that particular idea of the future, isn't something you particularly desire." The white queen notes, hinting that she saw the images Raven conjured mentally as well. It would be now that Emma digs mentally just a little, searching the girls brain like an index system, finding her surface desires, and what motivates this girl to get out of bed every day.

Emma begins to pick out her own entres, and Raven might note that she doesn't skimp out on any thing, she even goes too far to order more than the two of them could eat, but she's gonna splurge a little today with a coy smile.

Raven has posed:
    It's perhaps a surprisingly hard dig. The core of Raven's mind is steel, not in the sense that it's impenetrable but in that her will is titanic; it's a merciless sword, cutting through the darkness of her soul and directing her every action without animal reflex but with cold, calculated intention. Her desires die on this sword, leaving only her choices; her choice to be Raven of Azarath, her choice to deny her father's will, her choice to...
    Hm. That's interesting. Her choice to be Rachel Roth? Her choice to be a lonely, awkward girl who wants to connect with people but doesn't know how, who wants to let herself feel the way humans do but knows she dare not do more than drink one drop at a time from the well of her feelings, who wants to touch people and be touched without fear of what will happen if she does...

Emma Frost has posed:
"There's a dichotomy within you Raven." The white queen says, leaning forward pressing herself into the table a bit to reach her hand across the table, held palm up, inviting Raven to take it in a comforting, inviting motion. Emma might be able to find a way to help her accept both halves of herself. "Come to my school, learn from the best around. I can't give you the motivation Raven, but I can show you how to get what it is you want out of life."

Raven has posed:
    Raven was never offended or ashamed of what you saw when you looked inside her, or what you might see; she has constructed herself carefully, with great deliberation, and knows she is the best version of herself she can be, under the circumstances. Even the things she avoids aren't really the subject of fear or distress as much as a cold knowledge of the dangers involved. Yet when you offer her hand, that desire reappears, a hunger for you tempered with a shy reluctance to indulge it. Raven observes these feelings, sword poised, and decides to let them live, for now: this is an opportunity to learn. She thinks back on movies she's watched and people she's observed, trying to remember how they do this, and slowly reaches her gloved hand across the table to yours. Her velvet-lined fingers rest lightly on yours, never going as deep as your actual palm.
    "Alright. I'm intrigued."

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma curls her fingers beneath Raven's, pulling slightly, just enough so she can brush the back of Rachel's fingers with her thumb. "I don't only have a school were I teach all kinds of studnets, I employ all kinds of teachers, and there..." She pauses, licks her lips once and looks away, as if she can't find the words, but it's a tactic of hers to show this is something she doesn't tell everyone, or really anyone, and decides to leave it at that. "There's a lot of things we teach." She finishes without the big reveal.

"I think- No, I know you'd do well with us and I will certainly teach you privately in anything you'd like to learn that the school doesn't, officially, offer." The blonde says with a wink.

The waitress finally shows up, and takes a moment to gather the drink orders before walking off and getting those prepared.

Raven has posed:
    Raven considers for a moment, then decides protecting her secret identity is useless with someone who's been in her head so deeply she knows Raven's other sides. "Where is your school? I live in Gotham, as a ward of the state, but I'm legally old enough to emancipate myself if I had a place to stay." Her fingers enjoy the touch of your thumb, though mentally, her teeth are gritted with concentrated effort to both ignore it and pay close attention to it; to remember it for later examination without feeling it now. It's a heck of a mental hoop to jump through, but Raven's quite good at it.

Emma Frost has posed:
"It's in metropolis, but if that's too far for you, we do offer rooms and beds and everything you might need in order to stay comfortably." Emma smiles kindly, her red lips stretched side to side but not showing her teeth.

Then, in the faintest whisper, the sametime her thumb stops caressing the girls glove, Emma speaks, "It's okay to feel things. To experience the joy of emotion and touch." Just before the drinks are set down and the waitress picks up the slips of paper to take the orders and sends them off to the chef with quiet, practiced, hospitality.

Raven has posed:
    Raven ignores the waitress. She's just looking at you hard, mind quiet as she makes a decision somewhere deep inside her inner workings, in a geometrically impossible void far from the shores of her thought. She comes back quickly, and when she invites, "Okay, make me feel something I'll enjoy," it occurs simultaneously to the dark thought, <Just a little. She'll see.>

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma's eyes quickly flash open and lower slowly back to her resting face when she slowly grows a smile. "Raven. That's a dangerous invite to give someone like me." The white queen says as she moves her unseen foot to brush against Raven's lower shin and calf just as a measure to see if the girl appreciates the hidden touch. To test to see if the invite was really an invite and if the queen read it correctly. That's when Emma realizes it's a test and does what she always does in test's. She takes the upper hand by pressing the issue.

Emma suddenly stands up from the booth to the side of the table. She stands above Raven, looking down her nose and chest at the girl before leaning in abruptly, her hand sliding into Raven's hair against her head and grasping the girl firmly before pressing her glossly lips against the teen's.

Raven has posed:
    Think of Raven's heart as a well, one with a heavy steel cap on it, like a giant manhole cover (or, if you like to compare Goth to Goth, like in "the Ring"). The unquiet spirits of her emotions can rattle that cap, but almost never break through. Raven pushes the lid back a little, just a fraction, not even an eighth of the way open; if you were looking down on it, you'd seen only a sliver open in the shape of a fingernail trimming. But jagged tendrils of black anti-light shoot out of it all the same, and the moment you see them in her mind is the moment you realize they are not metaphorical at all: these inhuman limbs of blackness are surging out of Raven's chest. Some push into the booth and tear jagged cuts in the upholstry as they push Raven up to a standing position like a spider's legs; some of them sink into Raven's arms and drive them with inhuman strength to seize your face and pull you in closer, kissing you hard enough to scrape your teeth against hers and bruise your lips; some wrap around you like lassoes and pull you into her body pelvis first, crushing you against Raven's tight, athletic body. It's not just lust at work here, but spite that you would test her so, malice that wants you to see what you're invoking, shame that you're now seeing this side of her, regret that she's hurting you: all these emotions boil, and what can boiling water do except burn?
    Then, the steel in Raven's spine reasserts itself. <NO,> she commands, irresistible and overwhelming, slamming the cap back on the well of her heart. The black magic surging around you stops in an instant, and you're free now to step back; she's free now to release your face, though the force of her grip left fingerprint-shaped pressure areas on your cheeks and jaw. She regards you impassively, only a little shaken and even that is quickly coming under control.
    "Is it still okay?" she asks.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma would resist the attack, but she's not a physical type, nor is she entirely surprised by the outburst. Most people keep parts of themselves hidden, but for Emma, the only thing hidden is what she hasn't had the interest in seeing. This, she brought this on with her words and actions of the past few days. So she's not surprised at some darker power hidden by Raven, but she does react, quickly putting her hands on the girl's shoulders to keep from being crushed, but the white queen can't help but feel the power and flush with lust for the girl.

The pain, the surge of adrenaline, the raw emotion from both parties really resonates with Emma and she finds herself not pushing away but pulling herself and the girl closer together.

The white queen senses the girls desire to stop and locks that away in a special place in her own mind should the girl ever become too much, it will be good to know how to shut her down without hurting her. With that information obtained, Emma relaxes with Raven's command to stop herself. The reigns pulled on her dark tendrilly powers and as a reply, Emma takes a seat in the same booth with Raven and whispers as she pulls her lips away by an inch. "It has always been okay Raven."

Raven has posed:
    Well. THAT wasn't the answer Raven was expecting. Surprise, the hardest emotion to fight, rises in her and touches her heart; trailing in its wake are waves of simple human longing (for you), physical lust, excitement at barely-formed imaginings of the prospects this brings...and, there at the tail end, a voice that's all darkness and insanity and nothing else, a voice that was never human, a voice raving imperatives at Raven, <TAKE HER MAKE HER YOURS WANT HER TAKE WHAT YOU WANT> and to this, there is only that monumental, unyielding <NO> in response. The last thing to pass through her head, the last feeling to get the sword, is concern for you: Raven wants you to be well.
    "And what if I disagree? Is that something you want to train out of me?" Voice cold, analytical. Raven is back.

Emma Frost has posed:
"I'm not a monster Raven. If you disagree, you go on your own way and live your life." Emma says, standing up slowly from the shared bench and moving back over to the other side, returning to the business at hand. "And I can tell you will never question your own decision, there will never be a 'what if' in your heart or mind. You are so sure of yourself Raven. That's a strong, powerful quality to have." Emma smirks with half her lips, "It's something I pride myself in is my steadfastness and will."

Raven has posed:
    You rise to leave, and Raven's hand is on your wrist, forbidding you to leave. Her eyes and heart remain expressionless; her mind thinks, <No. If <<she's/you're> going to do this, then no half-measures.> She doesn't pull you down to sit yet, though. Instead, she listens to what you have to say, turns in her seat away from you while still grasping your wrist, examines the damage to the booth, and black light surges out to grip the severed pieces of leather and knit them back together on a molecular level. Then she pulls you down to sit. "Two birds of a feather, huh?"

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma turns to look at Raven as her wrist is grabed and she smirks slightly at the odd girl. Emma realizes she can control her emotions, but chooses to surpress them. Raven's afraid of herself. Or at least half of herself. "As long as they're good birds, like peacocks or better. Not dirty pigeons or ostriches." Emma jokes as she sits back down, impressed with the stitching, that's incredibly powerful and the level of control required for that. It's outstanding. Emma sits close enough that their hips are just barely brushing and she moves her free hand to slowly grasp Raven's before the girl can let go of the mutant's wrist. "What is it you want?"

Raven has posed:
    The waitress comes back with many things tied up in or tied to rice with seaweed, sauces for dipping, and little roses of wet ginger. If she thinks anything of the new seating arrangements, she keeps her thoughts to herself. Raven, for her part, feels tested, and is scanning your emotions intensely for a clue to the answer; but before that, she says, "I want to know what you have to show me. I want to find out."

Emma Frost has posed:
"It's not that simple-" Emma begins and then takes a deep breath, cutting her thought off before turning to face Raven squarely. And with that, Emma lifts her hand to Raven's temple. while simultaneously making it appear to everyone else there, the two are still just sitting like normal. Her hand on Raven's head, she would show Raven images of the school, bustling with students, with learning, with Raven in a team of other powered individuals, with Raven becoming an heir seemingly to the Frost Empire. The young girl as an older version of herself leading her own team of Hellions and having total control over both of herselves.

Then Emma speaks. "You will have the control and power to be whoever you want to be."

Raven has posed:
    Not quite what Raven meant, but maybe the flirting is done. Oh well, that's a shame. She shrugs it off. "I need time to be Rachel. I need time to be normal. I can be Raven forever, but the more time I spend as her, the further I get from my own humanity. That's bad."

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma leans closer now, her ice blue eyes looking back and forth at Raven's "You will always be Rachel." The mutant says her nose brushes against Raven's she is so close, the teen can feel the woman's hot breath on her lips. "Should I teach you how to be intimate and how to control your lust?" The White Queen asks from out of no where as her hand slowly but suddenly appears on Raven's waist, holding the girl safely.

Raven has posed:
    Raven just nods. "Yes. I'll need that some day too." Pause, and then, with a hint of the dry sarcasm that passes for her sense of humor, "But probably not in a restaurant."

Emma Frost has posed:
"What if I told you no one could see or hear us?" Asks Emma, her eyebrow lifting her hand falling off of Raven's temple to brush at the girl's cheek with a hint of need in the woman's supple touch.

Raven has posed:
    "Is this part of what you want to teach me?" Raven asks. It might sound like a challenge or an argument, but it's a literal question, one she follows up with, "Teaching me to just indulge whenever, wherever?"

Emma Frost has posed:
"Think of it as a reward." Emma whispers, though she cants her head to the side, "Or maybe it's my last ditch effort to convince you to become my protege." Frost proposes.

Raven has posed:
    Raven looks at you, weighing your ultimatum. She badly wants to go somewhere private, not just out of her inborn reserve but in full knowledge of how dangerous it would be to do otherwise; but the way you phrase makes it sound like it's here and now, or it's nothing. Alright. Rachel lifts her hands to Raven's hood and pulls it back (the pointed, beak-like shadow concealing her face stays in place long after it's ceased to make sense, but it does eventually lift) and she bites her lower lip hesitantly; the transformation from Raven to Rachel is nearly complete. "Okay. But...be gentle with me, and listen to me. Okay?"

Emma Frost has posed:
"I've been listening to you the whole time, Rachel." Emma makes note that the mental change within the girl is as important as her physical change. Emma then takes her hand off Rachel's waist and moves it invisibly to grab a single roll and moves it back, offering it to Rachel, brushing her lip with the sticky rice outside.

Raven has posed:
    The display of black magic you saw earlier was real, but it was also at least a little artificial. It was a thing she caused to happen as well as just permitted. Now, she's letting herself feel, but cautiously, carefully, with great restraint. Those feelings whisper to her that she should keep her big, violet eyes locked on yours, that her hands should come up and lightly cup the one near her mouth, that she should part her lips obediently and let you slip the rice and cucumber into her mouth; that she should let her heart pick up and crash as she does all these things.
    She obeys the whispers.

Emma Frost has posed:
Frost coos sweetly as she feels the teen surrender and with that submission, most generally will say what they mean now, if not that, they'll think it. "Now tell me Rachel. What do /you/ want?" She'll let the girl eat her bite but does keep her piercing blue eyes on the dangerous teen.

Raven has posed:
    Rachel eats her sushi without taking her eyes off yours, or even blinking. She and Raven aren't as far apart as she treats them: that core of iron will is there in both of them, stilling even her blinks. She doesn't really understand the question--Raven already told you what she wants, didn't she?--but her virginal lack of experience assures her you must be asking about what she wants to...you know, to do. Her heart is shy and greedy at the same time, something you've seen in plenty of girls about to kiss their first woman, but in Rachel there's no element of gay-ness in it; it never occurs to her that it's weird to want to kiss a woman. The monks of Azarath had no such qualms, and neither does she. No, it's just shyness at feeling desire at all, and that makes her creaky voice a little thick as she asks, "Maybe...a kiss?"

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma starts to approach Rachel's face slowly, her eyes shifting focus from the teen's left eye to her right a few times before she gets close enough that the cross between their noses hints that they should tilt heads a bit and Emma whispers. "Stop asking me Rachel, and just do." Seems there's no off limits any more. No barriers beyond Raven's own inhibitions.

Raven has posed:
    There's sadness in Rachel--don't you understand she wants to be kissed, not to do the kissing? that she wants a teacher to be gentle with her?--but maybe that's just who you are, and even she, with her lack of human experience and her youth, understands that wanting you to be something you're not is only a recipe for pain. Maybe that's the lesson here. Maybe you want to be taken as much as she does. She's still loosely cupping your hand in both of hers, and she guides them down to rest in your lap as she closes her eyes and kisses you very, very softly; a butterfly flapping its wings against your lips.