(2014-04-22) Telepathic Training Session
Telepathic Training Session
Summary: Emma Frost works with Megan Morse on her telepathy at Xavier's Academy.
Date: 2014-04-22
Related: NA
Scene Runner: NA
Social/Plot: Social

One of the 'benefits' of her work as Headmistress of Xavier Academy is that Emma Frost gets to meet and work with all of the students at one point or another. She is second only to Xavier in authority, here, and the safety, growth and education of every student is her responsibility. Usually, it is her pleasure. Sometimes, it is her great chore. Other times, it is pure torture. But it's all hers, and that is just the way she wants it. Emma has quite a reputation amongst the students as an exacting taskmistress. (In less subtle parlance, many choose to simply call her 'a bitch'. They are not wrong.)

At the moment, Ms. Frost is sitting behind her desk in her office, regarding a certain Ms. Morse with something approaching … calm conviviality. All things considered, Megan is a well-behaved young woman, friendly and intelligent. Emma has few complaints, other than the girl's oft painfully friendly attitude. Emma has never been a 'little Miss Mary Sunshine' sort. "Alright, Ms. Morse. I want you to concentrate. Your job is to deflect my telepathic attacks and rebuff them."

That's all the warning Megan gets, before another session begins. Who better to train a telepath? Seriously.

Megan Morse love love loved it here at Xavier's.

For all the stress and drama humans gave each other, she felt - for the most part, humans tended to get along far better than anything she remembered of Martians. Xavier's didn't really have a sports team at all, but Megan had been responsible for trying to spearhead a cheerleading squad anyways. And Emma certainly was right to suggest that Megan was a perky ray of sunshine.

And Emma might also be able to tell? That she made Megan uncomfortable. She might see in the way her smile takes on a more awkward tone. "Miss Frost, I um… I'm really glad that you were able to see me, but if you would rather not train telepathy…" began Megan.

In fact, one of the things that the telepaths on campus might have realized was that Megan tended to walk around with psychic blocks on certain parts of her memory, leaving the most easily accessible parts of her memory that of the last year or so. Happy bubbly memories. One imagines that Xavier might have considered that her own business, and left it at that.

Even if Megan quiets when Emma warns her. Even if Megan's eyes kinda pop open in surprise as Emma says what she does. And the first bit of the psychic attacks? It kinda gives her the equivalent of a punch to the head before she closes her eyes and kinda lifts her hand, palm open, facing Emma.

And one might get the sense of Megan painstakingly building a brick wall in her head, and using it to kinda slap away Emma's assaults.

Megan's mind is strong, to be sure, and Emma is happy to challenge her to grow into its potential. Whatever curiosity she may have over the memory blocks in place, she has not challenged them - at least so far as anyone knows. There is a time and a place for that kind of intrusion, and lesson time is not it. Definitely not.

Emma offers no response to the mild protest that perhaps this meeting ought not to be another telepathic practice. Instead, she again starts demonstrating her consumate skill and precision. Straight up, power to power, she could not bust through Megan's telepathic shields. But Emma is almost never so crass or crude as to lash out with mere force, except in a feint.

Emma's mind moves with precision and grace, slipping this way and that around the construct of the telepathic brick wall; she wheedles between the gaps in the bricks; she slips over, or goes under. And all to telepathically tweak the redhead, to show her where to spend more effort. "An immobile but impressive defense can be useful, Ms. Morse. But remember, an agile and aware defense can be equally effective. Do not give up one for the other, but find ways to combine both strengths. You are capable." Gentle lectures. Lessons.

As far as calling Emma a bitch overall…

Megan didn't mind Emma's sharpness. Nor her overwhelming twisting around her defenses. As a child - it was something she got used to in her practice brawls with other children. Megan had a softness to her that just didn't lend itself well to violence. That didn't mean she didn't have the potential for violence. Far from it.

Feeling the telepathic tendrils slip through the cracks in her mental shields was an… icky feeling for M'Gann. One imagines it wasn't meant to be pleasant, but still.

Closing her eyes tighter, there might also be the sense that she was holding back - Megan was splitting her attention in a hundred different ways. Maintaining this shape - that of a freckle-faced caucasian girl with brilliantly red hair - and maintaining those blocks dampened her focus.

But yet… as the tendrils of Emma's mind slip through, there might be the sense that they were swooped upon by butterfly nets of a sort, gathering these tendrils up with a swish of their nets, before they shift, perhaps becoming as a metal box.

In hand to hand fighting, this might be the equivalent of grabbing the opponents wrists. It stops them from punching, but doesn't necessarily go further than that. Of course, more powerful versions of the same might be used to lock someone's conciousness away in their own body, but Megan was nowhere near using that level of power. Nor was she really capable of it.

"How did you… uh…" Megan pauses, wincing more as she fights on. "…learn all of this, Miss Frost?" she asks.

Emma's mind doesn't stay pinned or trapped. But she does seem to approve of the inner defensive efforts beyond that outer wall. "How did I learn the art of telepathic conflict? Well, part of that came from studying my own abilities. I had to develop shields at a young age, for sanity's sake, So I sought to understand how my mind had managed to do so, in order to discover means to make those defenses more effective, and more permanent." she answers the inquiry honestly, if a tad vaguely. "The rest I have learned by confronting and studying every telepathic mind I have encountered, to improve my skills." Trust Emma to be obsessive about such a thing. "Why do you ask, Ms. Morse?"

There was a quirk of interest at what Emma says about her abilities - and it was out of those boxes that could not hold the mind of the elder telepath that Megan forms into a bit of a golem, perhaps - hands of shields to resist further intrusions. Perhaps it was the need for her to make such anthromorphic devices to assist in shielding that might be a strength - or a weakness.

"And are you studying mine right now, Ms. Frost?" asks Megan, her lips pursing just a bit, her voice cautious. "But I'm just curious - I promise!" she says, frowning a bit deeper in her concentration.

If Emma really is studying everything she can about Megan's mind and her telepathic efforts, she doesn't show it. But she also doesn't let up, and keeps ramping things back u, testing all of Megan's limits at endurance, patience, skill, accuracy and power. "And just what are you promising, Ms. Morse? It is always best to be incredibly specific. Otherwise, someone might decide to make assumptions and hold you to them." Trust Emma to wheedle as much through her words as her powers.

Megan starts to flounder at certain levels of testing - she had all the strength of mind that martians typically had, but… again, her focus was too divided. Patience she seemed to do well in, skill and accuracy, not so much.

"I'm promising that I was just curious and didn't…" Megan's eyes were beginning to faintly glow. "…have any sort of ulterior motive, Miss Frost!" says Megan, managing to sound cheery in spite of her concentration. "You're… really…" Strong wasn't the word. "…good!"

Finally, Emma starts to lighten up, giving Megan a break. She has pushed long enough, hard enough. She's not here to break the girl, but to push her to improve. And enough sessions like this, Megan will get better, if only in learning how to re-prioritize some of those other tasks in order to marshall her resources for telepathic defense betteer. "I am well aware that you were merely curious, Ms. Morse. There is nothing at all wrong with curiosity. There is only the challenge of what one does when that curiosity is answered with the truth." A pause. Then Emma nods. "Thank you, kindly, for recognizing that. And that is why I practice so hard." Unsubtle encouragement to try to do the same.

And when the psychic assault ends - Megan slumps back in her seat, bringing up her hand to kinda rub her forehead. "W-wow. Just… wow," she says, kinda frowning a bit as her head sorta aches a bit.

A handful of moments as Emma's words of wisdom sink in, an honest to gosh smile dancing on her lips. "I'll have to practice just as much - thank you for the session, Ms. Frost," she says. Another moment, and her eyes flicker back up towards Emma's face. "OH!" she exclaims. "I brought you something!"

Down she bends, unzipping her backpack, and from her backpack she produces… well.. it was a card. It had little shapes cut out from different colored papers, showing a stylized flowerpot with a daisy on it. The card was attached to a bag though, of crinkly red paper - a stack of three cookies contained therein.

She sets the gift upon the desk, beaming only brighter.

"I encourage everyone to practice at every opportunity, as much as they possibly can. Whatever Ic an do to assist you in that training, please let me know, Ms. Morse." After all, that's Emma's job: helping to train the next generation. And that's what she's going to do, come heck or high water, so to speak.

"You have no need to offer … me …" Emma starts to protest, as she is offered, then plainly /handed/ a gift. A present. From a student. All just because she was doing her job, and being snarky and bitchy about it.

Guilt trip!

"Thank you, Ms. Morse. My poor abused blood sugar levels and abused metabolism both thank you for your kind and thoughtful gift." Emma offers. In more snark. Because that's her native tongue. And because she knows nothing she says is going to dim the redhead's enthusiasm. It's just how she's wired, clearly.

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