Emma Troubles Logan

November 25, 2018:

Emma enters Xavier's School and encounters Logan doing dirty work.

Xavier Institute

Xavier's Institute grounds are located on 1407 Graymalkin Lane in
Westchester County between Graymalkin Lane itself and Breakstone Lake (30
miles outside of NYC itself). A large portion of this is acres upon acres of
woodland forest. To the farthest eastern portion of the Institutes grounds
there is a stretch of low foothills.

Upon entering the Institute grounds immediately past the heavy gated
entrance one finds themselves on a carefully paved road that splices into a
circle-drive in front of Xavier's Mansion where Professor Xavier has created
a school for special individuals. These "special" individuals are those
seeking education, not only in every day skills and common school courses
but also in their unique 'gifts' granted to them typically by a mutation.

The mansion itself is a multi-story building built over a hundred years ago.
It has finely cultivated gardens encircling its extensive structure. The
front lawns are sprawling stretches of perfectly trimmed grass and edge
gardens while the rear grounds feature extensive walkways, gardens, sports
fields and pathways leading out toward Breakstone Lake and the forest that
encompasses it.

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions: Prof_X

Plot:

Mood Music: None.


Fade In…

The first few days of Winter have been harsh, coming fast on the heels of Autumn and with such a steady series of thunderstorms that no time had been there to deal with the grounds of Xavier's. Oh there had been that invasion of the demonic in the city of Manhattan and assuredly that affected the time some of the Mansion's people had to actually deal with the upkeep that's required… but the season did nothing to help anyone out.
So it was that on this Sunday afternoon, the man known as the Wolverine finds himself on a ladder that leans against the corner of the mansion, close to one of the balconies nearby. He finds himself elbow deep in the gutters that circle the great old house, reaching and digging out the masses of refuse and detritus, the decomposed leaves and the dead branches. It's an unpleasant experience and his grim features reflect that as every time he reaches in there's a slosh and a squirk and then he drags a handful out and _drops_ it down onto the plastic tarp that's lain out some twenty feet down.
And even if a telepath weren't actively scanning, they might just feel the grim intensity of the Canadian's thoughts, a prominent mental scowl settled upon him as he mutters to himself low invectives about some of the mansion's other inhabitants who couldn't be bothered.

"That's quite the sight." Emma says, not even aware of who she was talking to being one of the most fearsome and capable men on the planet. No she sees a cowboy or lumber jack working away at a blue collar task. The white queen steps out of a large foreign SUV and the warm white fur lined jacket bristles in the cool wind. The woman steps away from the Land Rover just as her help steps around to shut the door for her as she busies her hands inside the thick fur muff covering both her wrists. Emma Frost starts to walk towards the entrance but she stops as some of the leaves and gunk splat on the ground not too far from her and she takes in a deep breath and a scowl forms around her nose and her ivory painted lips. "That is disgusting." She says simply before starting to attempt to enter the mansion.

As fate would have it another pile of leaves hits the ground and the tarp closer to her in the next instant. Though at least this mass is accompanied with a rumbled, "Look out below." Just a split second before the loud and heavy /splat!/ It might be enough to reach that impeccably cared for countenance of the youthful looking woman below. Then again it might well not. Whatever the case the man high up turns around and leans back against that ladder's frame, blue eyes lowering.
She might catch the subtle sense of a smirk in his thoughts a split second before it's mirrored on the man's gruff and weathered features. Arms fold over his broad chest as he shifts back a bit, the ladder clattering with the sound of metal on metal. "Oh. Heya, Frost."
He flicks a look towards the door and if she is still heading that way he'll wait til she tries it to tell her, "Door's locked. Stuff's on lockdown. Reasons." Though if she doesn't he'll offer that just a touch earlier. He then rudely asks her her business. "What do ya need?"

The goop splatters fantastically with specks kissing Emma's outfit from toes to above her waist and even her muff. "You did that on purpose you degenerate - Logan!" Emma says her chin turning to look up at the canadian, the rage on her face is fairly well hidden, but Logan could likely smell her displeasure from his high post.

"I was coming to take an inventory on your school's supplies and make an informed decision on what to do with curriculum for the students /and/ staff at this school." The business woman declares and still she's waiting for Logan to come down and unlock the door for her as if she's being offput already.

"Yeah, and I was tellin' ya. Lock down." Though she can likely sense he's holding something back even as he starts to pull off the grimy grubby work gloves that cover his hands. First the one as he tells her, "Ever since the demons got gone and those portals started openin' up, we've been keepin' things as calm as best we can." Though he doesn't mention the fact that people have been going missing. But she might be able to discern that somewhat if she digs into that primal mind of Logan's.
Taking off the other glove he sets them aside on the second to last top rung on the ladder then starts to descend, dropping down a few rungs at a time and then landing before her with a /whud./ He straightens up and meets her gaze, attention fully focused on her and to be fair… he does carry a bit of an odour, considering he's been at this most of the day and smells of sweat and mud and grime.
"C'mon, I'll take ya around and you can count your beans or whatever you wanna do."

Emma starts to lift the muff up to her nose but stops when she spots the specks on it and this causes her a great concern but she rolls her eyes and takes in a sharp breath. "I am here to help this school, I am not going to hurt it, or you. I recommend you drop the tough guy act and be a bit more welcoming and I will try to be friendly, a bit. I plan on being here for quite a long time." The White Queen says with a twitch like smile crossing her face for a brief moment as she starts to follow Logan around.

Skepticism is clear even as he steps past her, turning his shoulders and then moving towards the door. For a time he'll walk with her likely bringing up the rear and when he ascends the first steps up towards the door he waves his hand beside it. There's a brief trigger and the lock disengaging and then, before them, the interior of Xavier's mansion unfolds. Just a foyer, though impeccably decorated and bespeaking nothing more than classically inclined scholastic British tastes, the haggard mutant in front of her looks /distinctly/ out of place with those surroundings.
But, ever the gentleman, he holds the door open for her and says. "So when did this happen?" He asks her, likely meaning her plan to help the school and to be around more prominently. "And better yet, who signed off on it." Though, to be fair, he's not often consulted on matters regarding the faculty.

"With Charles missing, I have stepped up to help the many mutants left here at this school." Emma reports to the clawed bodyguard. Did she gleam that out of his indistructable skull, or did she already know? The woman's heels clacking against the sidewalk and the hardwood floor as she enters the mansion.

Though she's not tall or even large, the woman commands a certain pressence, filling the foyer with her ego and narcissism. "It is an incredibly recent development if you absolutely must know." Emma says with a look to Logan, "As to who signed off on it, just know it is 'signed off', as you so eloquently put it."

Turning around to look at her, Logan stands there in that hallway and tilts his head to the side. One eye narrows a touch as the corner of his mouth twists with what could be considered a hint of a scowl before he holds up a hand to point towards her. "Emma, let's get one thing straight." He gestures with a nod towards the door though his blue eyes don't stray from her. "You got an okay for now, and with things being as they are it is all hands on deck here. But main thing that got you through that door is that you haven't lied to me yet."
His nostrils flare subtly as he mentions that and if she delves further she might be able to perceive that curious way that the man before her perceives the world, with the myriad of senses coalescing into a curious melange of scent and sight and taste. To someone with her own ability to sense another's mind it might be like seeing new ranges of colours around her thin silhouette. Or to taste the tinge of dissembling on the wind.
He rounds and starts walking, "I figure you might actually have the best intentions for these kids and that's why I didn't run your behind outta here."

"Oh, that's why?" Emma says, partially teasing, partially probing Logan to try and push his button just a little bit, maybe building a report, or maybe she's just awful and not concerned about the Canadian. "I do have the children's best intentions in mind, that should never be in doubt Logan. Now could you show me to the teachers quarters or lounge, or wherever it is the curriculum books are stored. I would like to begin my work and let you get back to yours." She says with her nose scrunched up again as if she caught another wiff of the animalistic man's scent.

"Yeah yeah, c'mon." And just like that the resident grouch is escorting her through the depths of Xavier's, walking with that easy stride of his that belies his nature. He jams his hands into the pockets of his jeans and starts to move with her, stepping past a handful of students who had been almost running down the hall and then slowing to a jog as they see him.
"Evening, Mr. Logan." Says one of the girls as she steps quickly out of the way.
To which he responds with a hand and a rumbled, "Heya."
"Heya, Mr. Logan." Says a teenage boy with gills in his neck, though he's pulled partially out of the way by the gal.
"Right back at ya, sport." He perhaps pretends he doesn't know their names with that casual distance he affects, but Emma can probably pull their names straight from his mind. Though he'd never admit it.
Once their past the two kids laugh a bit, though the boy gives Emma a decidedly longer look than the girl, and that earns him a whack to the arm. After that, however, they're gone.
Logan, however, keeps walking and it's when they get to the lounge and storage room that he'll shoulder it open and gesture inside for her. "Take a gander. There's this room and another upstairs." And should she enter he'll follow in after.

"Cute kids." Emma says to Logan as he opens the door and she steps into the supply room. The woman pulls a tablet out of her jacket and sets the muff down on top of the closest surface near the doorway. She steps up to the first filing cabinet she sees and pulls the drawer open while setting the tablet down on top of it and throwing out the kickstand built into the case.

Emma begins to slowly take inventory of the school's physical assets and then she slowly turns her head to look at Logan still in the room. "Are you going to stay by my side the whole time, because if you are I will have to get you a new wardrobe, I refuse to look at /that/ if you insist on being here."

At first his answer to her is a cocked eyebrow from where he's settled with one shoulder against the wall and his arms folded. He then takes a moment to look down pointedly at his ensemble, as if noting the work boots, the worn blue jeans, the brown leather belt with the slightly too large buckle, and that tight black t-shirt that covers his chest and is in turn covered by a flannel overshirt. His blue eyes lift back towards her and they narrow as he says, "What's wrong with what I'm wearin'?"
And at first she can sense the subtle growl in his voice but in his mind as well, though it might be more for show. Yet after he murmurs those first words he holds up a hand as if to stay her own as he adds, "Let me guess. You make a comment like that, I take umbrage, then in a swirl of activity we go shopping together and afterwards we come out of it understandin' each other and cherishin' a new found friendship."
He looks away, a slight snort slipping from him in exhalation and probably meant to hide the subtle half-smile as he adds, "Nice try, Frost."

"No you troglodyte, you smell better and then I can focus on my work." The blond woman says with a lift of one of her blond eyebrows lifting up slowly. Her hand pulls out a small blue binder which she turns and waves a couple of times in Logan's direction as if to turn away the stench wafting off Logan.

"Yeah, well…" Logan lifts a hand, fingers spreading dismissively as if brushing her words aside. Which he is. "People in Hell want ice water and all that." But he does leave the door open a bit to let at least a breeze get in, holding it with the toe of his boot. He gives her a nod, "So get a hustle on and you'll get done faster. Then voila," He uncurls the other hand to the side and motions to the door outwards. But for now, she'll have to put up with him.
Hopefully it won't take too terribly long.

"You feel like you're in hell?" Emma asks, turning the supply room into a therapists room with a single question and she opens the blue binder she had picked up in order to view the contents more thoroughly.

Her fingers dance across the screen of her tablet before she sets the binder back into the drawer and pulls out another blue binder. Still with her attention away from Logan she asks, "What makes you think something like that?" The White Queen inquires with a calm impartial tone, almost inviting.

Gaze lowered for a time, Logan considers the toe of his boot as if it were the most interesting thing in the world, though he does eye her sidelong as she continues to take titles and inventory, performing a perusal of all that goes into the education of so many young mutants at Xavier's. But when she asks him that question he meets her glance, then smirks and looks away. "I've had worse times." There's a beat of silence, then he adds, "A bit." He holds up a hand with two fingers half an inch apart as if to show exactly how close this comes to Hell.
But then he considers her question and makes a small 'hnh' of sound, just a grunt that slips from him as he looks away again. "Was just meanin', we can't get everything we want. Best to just deal with it." His lip twists as he adds, "Like now. I ain't leavin' you alone here, not entirely outta lack of trust. More outta if somethin' goes down and you end up cacked or something on my watch then I'll have to deal with a heap of guilt and hassle from people."
He grins and looks away again, pushing a hand through that wild mane of his hair. "And you and I don't exactly get along. So we're just gonna have to deal. For now."

"You sound like you're okay with having dreams go unrealized." Emma says, her eyebrows softly furrowing above her nose and she turns her head slowly to examine Logan once more and she does from his toe to his raven hair. "I don't know why you say that Logan, I don't dislike you. I just abhor most of your thoughts, smells and mannerisms, but you- you have potential. Not as much as most of the students here, but there is some within you." She says with a teasing wink towards the Wolverine.

As she speaks she can /feel/ the trepidation and suspicion in the man, though assuredly that half-smirk at the corner of his mouth as he eyes her would give her that feeling even if she couldn't sift through the feral aspects of his mind to discern the wild and primal thoughts that color his mind. Then as she continues his smirk turns sour and he /rolls/ his eyes to the side though not before lifting them upwards towards the heavens as if seeking some sort of divine aid in handling this woman.
He lifts a hand and digs thumb and forefinger just on either side of his nose, as if trying to clear the sleep from his eyes when he tells her with some sincerity, "Woman, you make me tired."
Shaking his head he looks up at her, "I'm not in the market fer a life coach ta tell me ta be all I can be. Got it?" Though that hint of him having to give up on his dreams, she might well be able to take subtle images from his mind. The past, the women of his life, the events. There's no haze of amnesia blocking him but he handles the feelings they engender well.

"Tired." Emma repeats, turning away with her blue eyes locking onto her tablet once more, "That's a new one. I will put that on the list." She says, and then swaps binders in the filing cabinet once more. At this pace it's going to take an incredible ammount of time to sort through all the rooms and all the materials. "I am not here to be your life coach, we both know I'm not experienced enough for you. And the reverse is just as true." She notes aloud and again, smirks at the man's thoughts, but doesn't fully probe except with her words.

"How do ya figure?" Logan asks of her as he pushes away from that wall and steps past, footsteps quiet as he moves towards one of the spare tables set beside the coffee machine that serves as a gathering point for some of the faculty. He liberates one of the wooden chairs and draaaaags it across the room to set it up near the wall, and drops down into it. He promptly slouches and props a heavy boot against the frame to hold the door open while he considers her.
"Lack of experience never stopped anyone from trying ta teach someone somethin' they know nothin' about." His smirk is edged as he looks away, though his nostrils flare again taking in her own scent which is far less unpleasant compared to his in some ways.

"Stopped me, but I rarely ever did the 'make it 'till you fake it' thing, I may be many things, but I have always been quite genuine." The billionaire says with a frown to Logan, that chair stunt was not funny, nor warrented.

Emma digs back into the drawer, pulling another binder out and rumaging through the papers for a moment before transfering the name into the tablet. With a turn of her head, her hair flairs out for a moment before falling still and she's still looking at Logan, "Did you /want/ to go shopping? It would be a treat for the two of us, or at least one of us." She says with a deviant smile across her painted lips.

Another snort comes from him and he shakes his head as he looks away, eyes focused on a group of students walking down the hall. He lifts a hand in a dismissive wave as if to shoo them on their way, but then turns back towards Emma and replies, "I always wondered what with your altering peoples' memories if you ever changed your own ta make you seem less evil than you were. Or at least be able to live with yourself." His gaze is firm and level, as if just letting her know with that small warning short that he hasn't forgotten what has passed between them.
But then he leans forwards and brushes the back of one hand against his shoe, sending a small clod of dirt flying out into the hall. "But no. M'fine with what I got." He smirks and says sidelong, "But if I get the sudden urge ta conspiciously consume I'll keep ya in mind."

"Never took you for the preachy high and mighty type Logan." Emma says, turning back to her work yet again. "I thought it was implied between us that neither of us have the moral high ground and to just leave it at that." She says with a shrug of her shoulders before resuming the typing and filing.

She cocks her hip out to one side to lean against the cabinet and turns to face Logan as if she's getting ready for a more involved conversation, "I am not proud of everything I have done, but I had my reasons and I figure helping Charles and his school in his absence would be a way to- repent in some small way." Emma says, her face asking if that's okay with the murderhobo that lives in the mansion.

A grunt comes from him as he folds his arms over his chest, eyes distanced in thought or reflection. "Main difference I reckon is regret." He rubs a fingertip along the curve of his jaw, the stubble scraping a bit against his touch. He lets his head loll to the side so he can look at her easily as he responds. "You mean what you just said and everything'll be all nice between us." He lets those words hang there for a time before he turns his head back to consider the hallway.
"You playin' some game, then you won't have to poke into my mind to see how quick I'll be ta rectify that situation." And, to be fair, in his mind's eye he doesn't imagine the situation… nor even present to her with an image in his thoughts of her fate. Yet she can tell that he is sincere in this statement at the least.

"You think I would play such a foolish game with you?" Emma asks sincerely her eyes looking to Logan a bit longer and then turns back to the file cabinet and grabs another binder and again opens it to get the information she seeks.

"I am incredibly easy prey for you to subdue Logan, I have no false ideas about that. You can trust in my sense of survival to not be that foolish." Emma smirks to herself, eyeing Logan in the dark mirror of the edge of her tablet's screen.

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