2013.09.15 - The Arrival of Monet

Emma actively had been recruiting for her school, the Academy of Tomorrow. It was well on it's way by this point. But there was one name that was always on her list, and that was Monet St. Croix. Her family was well known, and Emma always had an eye for talent. And she knew Monet had it in spades.

She sent out an invitation to Monet to visit the Academy of Tomorrow and after negotiating the right time the day had come. Emma currently was at the front lobby in the Academy, speaking with one of the front desk secretaries while she waited for her visitor. She was dressed in a simple white suit with a silver blouse and large heels.

It was not a gentle negotiation. Cartier St. Croix was a difficult man to directly communicate with. His daughter proved even worse. She had already canceled her first appointment, and that was after delaying a response for a month.

She arrives in an embassy vehicle, a black SUV with illegally tinted windows. Diplomatic immunity, apparently. The appropriately-dressed driver exits, leaving his door open as he moves to open Monet's. There's another man sitting in the passenger seat, also a fan of dark glasses and suits.

Monet does not touch the ground. She glides directly from the door to the entrance of the Academy, bypassing the steps to alight before the door. Her heels make a click on the pavement as she lands. Mercifully, she opens the door for herself. The driver shuts both doors and waits outside.

Just as Monet's feet touch the ground, Emma's mind reaches out and speaks to her telepathically, 

With a smile she turned as Monet walked through the door. It had been some time since she had encountered another telepath, at least a fellow mutant. The students in the lobby parted, seemingly realizing someone important stepped through the doors.

Emma stepped forward and reached her hand to shake hers, "Ms. St Croix. It is a pleasure."

The telepathic touch puts a pause in Monet's step. Faint, because she knows how to hide such things, but present. Monet's mind is fortified and suspicious. This does not prevent telepathic communication, but it does make it very awkward.

"Ms. Frost," Monet responds. She clasps Emma's hand, but does not shake. "I have heard about you. Your competitors speak favorably of your Academy. Is professional courtesy common in academics?"

Monet does not pay attention to the other students, nor does she inspect the interior of the building. Emma's outfit does get a brief once-over, because some things just can't be dispensed with.

The little corners of Emma's mouth curve up just so, as she releases the girl's hand. She wondered if this was her first time encountering a fellow telepath. Emma remembered when she first encountered one, it was not a time she would forget anytime soon.

She released her hand, "I suppose it is, I maintain a very friendly atmosphere with other institutions. And of course they generally want to stay on good terms with the head of Frost International."

She gestured her hand forward to walk with Monet through the school.

It may be. It is not, but it could be.

"Does Frost International also deal with Magneto, or are you speaking with him solely on behalf of the Academy?" Monet asks. She says this so casually, and at such a young age. She must have started speaking with adults at a very young age. The things a diplomat's child must learn.

Monet follows a pace behind Ms. Frost, only now taking the time to look around.

Her eyebrow quirks. A very direct girl. She liked that. She let out a soft laugh, "Magneto, the leader of Genosha? I encountered him once before he started his own country. An interesting man."

As they walked down the halls together some of the male students indeed took notice of the very attractive visitor wandering the halls, "However Genosha's ideals are not my own."

She lifted a hand and gestured at the surroundings, "At the Academy of Tomorrow we educate the future leaders and elite of tomorrow, in /all/ of their extraordinary skills, mutant or otherwise."

It fit. The giant statues, the posters. Magneto had a certain amount of winking self-awareness to justify it, but Emma's side of the story is both believable and damning. Magneto was either outright lying, or he was speaking of a future that was certain in his mind.

Dictators.

"I am glad to hear that, Ms. Frost," Monet eventually replies, though it appears to be in response to her greater statement about the Academy of Tomorrow's student body. She continues: "In what ways do you distinguish yourself from other organizations?"

Emma side-eyed the girl as she read her thoughts about Magneto. How interesting. Genosha was a common subject among her peers, along with Magneto in particular.

Emma gave a small wave to a very young AoT student who looked enthusiastic to see Emma, "We differ from other Academies because we integrate high-end technology to the building itself and employ next-generation teaching methods. We have many advanced teachers here like Anthony Stark. The Academy also sees the potential in human, mutant, and metahuman students. We perfect each and every potential skill. In addition to that we encourage our students to take the initiative and to go above and beyond the curriculum."

She turned another corner as the rest of the classes were released at this time, "We employ high standards of learning, but we are not preparing you to enter the workforce, but to change the world."

"Of any age," Monet comments as the younger student addresses her tour guide, though she does not deign to look at the student specifically.

When the classes release, Monet frowns. The air around her becomes pressurized--she telekinetically pushes outward. It's not enough to move anyone, but it is enough to feel uncomfortable. Most people do not consciously notice, but allow her more personal space all the same. It's a mental feat that a trained telepath may notice.

"Have any of your students taken initiative to go above and beyond the curriculum? I would be glad to hear of examples, Ms. Frost."

Emma glanced over as she saw the fellow students specifically side-step around the woman. They all likely didn't know her position as a diplomat's daughter, so it was likely her own skills.

She led the girl down another hallway, and towards the elevator, "They would prefer their privacy, for the moment Ms. St. Croix. I have a few students who come to me for special training and development in their unusual skills, others who prefer to find their /own/ way to train themselves. But yes I would say a fair amount of my students have gone above and beyond."

Once they enter the elevator, she takes them to the top level, the faculty private offices. "However we respect our students privacy, but it is up to them to share their special project, should you decide to attend."

Monet steps into the elevator and faces front. She remains quiet during the ride. She smells faintly of papaya.

When the doors open, she follows Emma out and resumes the conversation: "I have already decided to enroll my younger sisters in the Xavier Institute, Ms. Frost. I am strongly inclined to enroll in their collegiate program so I can keep an eye on my siblings. However, they collaborate with Empire State University. I am not impressed with their faculty."

The teen looks toward Emma, studying her as she responds.

Emma nodded her head as she walked along the hallway, she stopped just in front of Emma's office. She turned and faced towards Monet, "The Xavier institute is an interesting school, why I just met with one of their top professors, Scott Summers the other day."

She leaned up against her door, and crossed her arms in front of her chest, "But they don't have what I have. Which is a well-diversified staff, a very extensive curriculum, and a telepathic field that keeps /any/ who would threaten this school or anyone inside from even being able to find it."

She looks down to check her nails, "We also feature education from kindergarten to Doctorate levels."

"A telepathic field," Monet repeats.

She looks to the walls and then to the floor, seemingly seeing the building for the first time. Her mind stretches out testing the veracity of such a claim. "It is proof against anyone who would threaten anyone inside it. That is quite a claim, Ms. Frost. How does it work?"

Emma let out a soft laugh, "I've been a telepath for fifteen years. For the last ten years I've planned out this school."

She finally opened the door and headed towards her desk. Her office, much like the rest of the school was very white and silver, "I also am well skilled at engineering, so thus my imagination are my only limits. I keep my school safe. Now tell me, Ms. St Croix why are you even here, if you've picked out your school?"

She made her way behind her desk, and took a seat. Emma gestured towards the tall-backed seats in front of her, "Not that I'm flattered you took the time to visit, it is always nice to meet another telepath and talented youth."

Monet's pace is much more slow as she follows Emma into the room. Her eyes have that far away look of incessant thought. She is likely contemplating the very bones of this building. It is said that she is very intelligent, though that is often less interesting than what she is wearing or who she is with.

"I have not chosen my school, Ms. Frost," she says, seating herself in one of the offered seats. "Nor have I chosen my teachers. You mentioned Anthony Stark--but the way everyone speaks about this school, it is clear that you are the driving force. You may as well be the only employee. Why have you planned this school for ten years, Ms. Frost? Are you investing in the future? Do many students find themselves with offers to work for Frost International?"

Emma smiled and placed her elebows onto the table, lacing her fingers together, "I've planned this school for ten years because it has been my dream to open a school such as this, on top of my other endeavors. And if one of my students applied for Frost International I'd consider them a failure. My graduates need to be bigger and better."

She smiled, however, "But I wont doubt that I am the driving force behind this school. I always wanted to be a teacher, even when I was younger than you."

"I speak honestly when I say that I am surprised, Ms. Frost," Monet says without the slightest inflection of sarcasm. It is possible to be both blunt and rude and neither at the same time.

Monet folds her hands in her lap and leans forward. "Why a teacher? Why now? You lead Frost International to unprecedented success and then you seek to train others to surpass you. Are you more altruistic than I have been led to believe?"

A very good question. This girl was very intelligent, more then perhaps she even suspected. Who was being intervied at this point. There was no annoyance in her response, only amusement, "As I said, it had always been my dream. I was bred for business and that I excel at. But especially once my own abilities developed."

She tapped at the temples of her forehead, "I knew I wanted more. I also tend to understand people more then most. It fits, and it makes me happy. This school is challenging in more ways then I could ever fathom."

"I am sure that it is, Ms. Frost."

Monet sits back in her chair. She looks past Emma, tapping a finger on the knuckles of her other hand. "It must be very interesting, being bred for something," she muses.

Her attention returns all at once. "Ms. Frost, I wish to impose upon you in a unique way. You mentioned that you give private instruction to students with unusual skills. I encourage you to believe me when I say that the curriculum at Empire State University will be trivial to me. I expect private instruction with the doctoral instructors at the Xavier Institute will not hold my attention, either. Your school will be much the same."

The young mutant places her hands palm-down on the arm rests. She might as well be sitting behind the desk, for how she is treating this conversation. "I am interested solely in finding the proper instructors. I am prepared to give you a chance, though I will be enrolling at the Xavier Institute."

Emma let out a laugh, "So you've made your decision. Listen darling, I'm not going to beg you to join my school. However unless I am mistaken, I don't think their academy includes doctorate levels in education. And beyond that, they are focused on only mutant training, I am not. The only doctorate you'll walk out with there is soldiering."

She leaned forward over her desk, "Under my tutelage, you can be a /Queen/ one day, your siblings as well. And on top of everything"

Emma looked to the side, outside of the window, "I also feature very personal training to those who possess uncommon skills, if you understand my drift."

"Soldiering," Monet seizes upon that word, ignoring the very valid point about doctoral training. "Is their activism truly so militant in your eyes? Is it unfortunate that they are so militant? You are yourself a mutant."

She does not join Emma in looking out the window. She has had her fill of window gazing. "You invited me here, Ms. Frost. I wanted to come, but you invited me. What would you have me be a queen of?"

Emma let out another soft laugh, "You are Monet St. Croix, you wouldn't have come here unless there was something to benefit you."

She glanced down at her personal planner, "And I am a mutant. But that doesn't mean I want to be anyone's soldier. I think you could be 'Queen of the World'. Especially under my training, you could be even better then you already are."

She looked to Monet, "However I will tell you personally, it would be unfortunate if you only became a piece of Xavier's army, taught that only through violence that you will be accepted, just like Magneto. They both play the same game. It would not be that way here, because you will be outside of their game."

Monet smiles. It is a very satisfied smile.

"Ms. Frost, I must apologize," she says, standing. "I did not appreciate the fullness of your talent. Thank you for speaking with me today. You have given me much to consider. I do not believe I can make a decision today."

She walks to the side of the chair, placing a hand on the back. "I assure you that I do not intend to become a piece in anyone's army. Pawn or Queen. Thank you for your time. Who may I call when I wish to contact you?"

Emma smirked and jotted a number down on a piece of paper, and handed it to Monet as he rose herself, "Please. You've met me. You can contact me directly, this is my personal cell number."

She led Monet towards the door, "You do not need to make your decision today, tomorrow, or even this year. It is a big decision, you shouldn't make it lightly. And if you want to meet again it can be in a more relaxed atmosphere."

Monet receives the paper graciously and slips it into a jacket pocket. She follows Emma, again trailing a step behind.

"I agree, Ms. Frost. It is a much larger decision than I anticipated. I will have to give it the proper amount of respect. You have been very helpful."

Emma paused for just a moment just before she opened the door. There was a genuine look to her eye as she met her gaze, "You're welcome. But any decision that involves your future, along with your siblings is nothing to take lightly. I think it's very admirable that you are so involved in your siblings lives, Monet. Very good."

It was the first time she called her by her first name, and if Monet had been searching Emma's mind at all for any clues she suddenly happened upon a soft spot. Siblings.