2013-02-10 A School Proposal

The invitation wasn't terrifically subtle, if Doug needed one. An envelope with scripted, flourishing text, all curves and high class, inviting Doug to the art museum for a meeting about his future. Three PM. Sharp. By the Monet.

Emma herself was standing in front of a piece - Camille Monet on her deathbed, to be precise, dressed as she always was - corset, long white jacket with fur trim, (because really, if animals were not meant to be worn, why is their fur so fetching and soft?) gloves, white leather pants, and thigh-high boots. Really an impractical outfit, but no one ever harrassed the White Queen about it. More than once, at the least. She was waiting for someone, by the look of things.

Completely unrelated, Scott Summers has traveled down to Metropolis simply to get away for the weekend. There's been a lot of stress lately and sometimes it benefits him to just get away and think. As he passes by the entrance to the room in which Emma stands, he does not see her. He's wearing a black turtleneck sweater with charcoal pants and fine Italian shoes.

Doug Ramsey, agent of SHIELD, was sorting out his options. Having run into Illyana Rasputin and being shakened up by the girl-turned-woman, his thoughts were turning more and more towards the X-Men. Having not talked to the X-Men in forever, Doug was considering his options when he received the invitation. There was a brief moment of eyebrow raising over who the invitation was from, but who was he to turn down an invitation from -her-?

And so Doug Ramsey is by the monet at 2:59 PM, dressed in fashionable semi-casual clothes.

Greeting Emma with a "Miss Frost," in a polite manner, the young mutant does his best to present to her a cool 'I'm not sure what you want, but I'm willing to listen. And yes, I am completely aware I need to maintain eye-level' body language. "It's been a while." Not since the time she tried to recruit him for the Academy of Tomorrow.

There's a flicker of Emma's ice blue eyes to the side - her eyes narrowing in on the form of Scott as he passes. Emma was an unrepentant thought-skimmer, and she thought she felt something... familiar, more or less, in passing. Turning her eyes back towards the piece, Emma's voice enters Scott's mind. "Mr. Summers, good morning - here to... avoid the stress?" she asks then, her eyes narrowing on the piece, even as a smile tugs up the corners of her lips.

And so Douglas joins, punctual - something she could respect. But Emma remains silent for a moment - at least externally. "Do join us, darling Scott? We're over here, by the Monet," she telepathically 'says', then, her voice cloying.

After that moment of silence, though, Emma still does not turn her eyes towards Doug - instead lifting a gloved hand to gesture towards the painting. "Camille Monet sur son lit de mort - how familiar are you with Monet, Mr. Ramsey?" she asks smoothly, only then turning her eyes towards him, a hidden mischief at the edges of her lips.

Scott stops his stride towards the Warhol exhibit abruptly and listens to the voices in his head. "Emma?" he asks out loud. Slowly, almost on a dime, Scott turns and does as he's instructed. Shortly after he's arriving back through the door through which Emma noticed him, with hands shoved deep in pockets. "Doug?" Scott? The X-Men. Funny how that went. "Mr. Summers," Doug greets, a tentative smile on his face. Yes, funny how life led you away then led you back right where you began. No, he wasn't going to think too hard on it.

As Doug glances briefly at Emma's profile, taking note of the slight twitch at her lips that -might- be indicative of mischief, the young man keeps himself under control, offering a smile that is both bashful and friendly. "Well..." Doug begins, turning his attention back towards the painting. "I don't know anything about Monet other than that he was a painter. So if he painted Camille Monet on her deathbed..." He motions towards the painting. "She looks skeletal and veiled, as though she were already turning into a ghost. The short brushstrokes... they seem brusque, almost violent. I would say he must have loved her very much, because everything about this seems to be saying 'grief'."

"The grief of a husband watching his wife slowly wither and die in front of him, from tuberculosis," indicates Emma, the mischief fading quickly from her expression as she lifts both her brows, turning towards Scott as if surprised. "Oh, Mr. Summers, do join us - we're both simply interpreting this picture, I believe. And Mr. Ramsey made an excellent observation - grief. Having to watch the slow death of something we believe in, alongside the painter, hmm?"

The edges of her eyes narrow, and that smile grows wider. "A bit like having to watch ideals die, as more and more young mutants are processed through that academy of yours, hmm?" Emma says, picking up a hand to gesture towards Scott.

The momentary flash Scott has when he views Emma slowly dissipates when it's clear she's making an attack on the school. "On the contrary," Scott says coolly, hands still in his pockets as he takes a look at the painting and rocks on his heels. "That academy of mine is where ideals are emboldened."

Observing Emma and Scott as they face off, almost like a cobra and a mongoose, Doug shifts his position a bit to interject himself in between the two of them, as a buffer. The brief -look- at Emma as she brings up death was a look that was both haunted and agreement - a thought that had been on his mind ever since his resurrection. And yet... Scott had been kind enough to let him go, find his own path accordingly. The ideals were -ideal- for a reason, but needed to be tested -with- the light of cold harsh reality.

There's a slight nod at Scott. "Yes," he notes. "But sometimes... sometimes ideals have to be -tested- to affirm their strengths." There was a soft wry sardonic smile crossing his lips. Because death had a way of doing that.

Emma flicks her eyes towards Scott, that little smile touching her lips. "Dear Mr. Summers, I apologize for bringing you offense; I know that you would do anything for your friends. Please, do not consider me an enemy - except, perhaps, as an enemy of allowing something beautiful to wither and die due to xenophobia and racism," she says, that smile in her eyes as she turns her head back towards Scott.

"And that is precisely my point, Mr. Ramsey," she says, lifting up a white-gloved hand, and kinda wiggling it in a circle in the air. "But I understand you are caught in the middle, in this - certainly the academy would not hold differing opinions against you?" asks Emma, glancing back towards Scott, with a curious little tilt to her head.

Scott's chuckle echoes a bit and Emma's words cause him to smile. On the inside, he does his best to remain clear and refrain from being baited by her. For some reason it seems easy to do. She's certainly good at giving herself the upper hand. Scott resolves to tread carefully. "It's not really that complicated. I stand behind what both of our academies do, Miss Frost. You know that. You're no enemy of mine." His look turns to Doug, wondering about his response.

"It doesn't," Doug replies softly, glancing towards Scott as if to affirm that. "I must admit, I had been wondering what your invitation was for, Miss Frost. If it relates to your academy..." And here Doug turns his attention towards Emma. "I'm listening. I've been at the Institute. I've been in SHIELD. I don't quite know what's going on..." There was a brief study of Scott's cautious body language, and of Emma's languid smile, before Doug shifts his posture, making sure to keep his body language neutral so that he could -listen- to what was being said, both verbally and non-verbally, without his own actions getting involved in the larger picture.

"The fact of the matter is..." Emma says, folding her arms before herself. "I really do not see why we have to have some of the children fall by the wayside at your facility, and some lose... whatever advantages your facility garners them. Shelter and quivering in fear from the threat of the human beings, I suppose," she says, drawing her thumb up to draw that digit across her lips. "In spite of having a telepath on hand that could quite literally melt the minds of any human task force that would come in to do harm to your children," she says, flicking her eyes towards Scott.

"But perhaps I am being overly antagonistic, hmm?" she says then. "I would suggest trying to find a compromise between our two viewpoints - join forces, if we could," her eyes then flickering towards Doug, a certain spark of interest in them. "And that is precisely why I would like for Doug to remain in the Institute; if you do not mind, Mr. Ramsey. I've not been explaining to you, because I know you are really very good at reading between the lines; but I am wondering - planning, perhaps - if there would be a way that we could... combine our facilities, so to speak. We could keep the yucky humans where they belong - outside the academy, but perhaps I could be allowed a position of influence, hmm?" says Emma, her eyes flickering towards Scott.

Emma's body language was carefully, carefully controlled to have a demeanor of almost relaxed confidence. Doug would be able to find the weak points in that facade, in her eyes, mostly, and the way she shifts somewhat. She did very much care about these sorts of things. "And I suppose that is where you might come in, Mr. Ramsey. An... outside observer of sorts, intended to keep a more or less neutral view on matters? Would you be interested in such a thing?"

Scott tilts his head towards Emma as she speaks, "I don't want to speak on behalf of Xavier, but I believe if he was here he would want to keep the mind melting to a minimum." As Emma continues on, he just shakes his head a bit before nodding, "Miss Frost, our organizations are more similar than they are different. Surely if you'd like to work together, it could be arranged. As far as combining facilities, the ultimate decision would rest with the Professor, but I think you could bring a great deal of influence and wisdom to our Institute's goals."

"I haven't been in the Institute for a while, Ms. Frost," Doug observes. But she knew that, of course, knew that he'd been in SHIELD for some time after leaving the Institute. And knew what his abilities were. Despite her affected airs, she -did- care about the future of mutantkind, and Doug could see that.

There was a brief moment as Doug considers his options. Did he -want- to work with the X-Men again? Why...?

And then Doug looks back towards Scott, affirming that they -would- be willing to work with Emma, and the young man... slowly nods. "Mr. Summers? If it's all right with you, I'd like to work with you again." And then he nods at Emma. "And her." There's something about the way he says it, perhaps, that tips off Scott that the young mutant with the linguistic abilities -has- a read on Emma's body language that indicates she's quite sincere. Whether or not he was right, that was left to Scott to determine.

"It's the differences that leave so much to be desired, Mr. Summers," says Emma, waggling her finger at him. "I certainly wouldn't want to close the academy - but hiring an administrator to oversee the daily function in my stead would not be off the table. But I would certainly like you to take my proposals to the professor proper," says Emma, turning her eyes from Scott, to level her gaze upon Doug, a little smile tilting up the corners of her lips. She was pleased at what he said, and it didn't take a body language expert to realize that.

Scott turns to face Emma more fully, almost as if he's sizing her up, but his eyes and his mind seem to be on hers. "I will look forward to working with you Miss Frost and providing any assistance I can. I'm sure the Professor will be open to the idea. We're always looking for new ways to help mutantkind."

Nodding slowly at Scott, and taking his cues from him, Doug turns towards Emma. "Ms. Frost. Thank you." Not quite clear over what yet, but Doug had a feeling things would work themselves out. He glances at Scott, as if arching an eyebrow to affirm that things have sorted themselves out, before turning to Emma back. "Miss Frost," he says, bowing oh so gallantly in a display of chivalry. "If this isn't too forward, I'd like to hear more of your views with regards to Monet. Enlighten me."

"I think I'm always looking for more ways to help /human/kind, Mr. Summers," says Emma, "The mutant and the human aspects of it," she says, her tone veering towards the chiding, even if it doesn't quite reach there. Glancing towards Doug, there was an honest little smile that touches her lips, and she inclines her head towards him, bringing up a hand and curling her wrist. "I'm wondering, before looking at more Monet - there is beauty in impressionism, yes, but the emotion therein can be desperately subtle. I'm wondering if you would be willing to look at some Cubist art with us, Mr. Ramsey? I would adore to hear your opinions on art as it starts to slip towards the absurd... so long as we avoid something too modern," she says.

With a nod towards Scott, as he didn't seem to be intent on staying, Doug takes the proffered hand from Emma, inclines his head over it, and then releases it. Yes he was aware what her body language expected, but he wasn't going to play it -her- way. Instead, he simply returns the honest smile, and nods. "I'd enjoy that, Ms. Frost. And please... call me Doug." Motioning towards the gallery, the young mutant smiles. "After you, miss."