(2014-06-05) Educational Challenges
Educational Challenges
Summary: Emma and Taskmaster discuss challenges at the school and how they will address them.
Date: 2014-06-05
Related: Various
NPCs: NA
Scene Runner: NA
Social/Plot: Social
Players:
taskmaster..white-queen..

It was relatively quiet out at the mansion this afternoon, most of the kids in their classes. One individual, however, was taking the time in between classes to get in a bit of light exercise. Using the grounds and the architecture as his playground, Professor Tony Masters, or as he preferred, Taskmaster, parkoured about the area with a casual grace. Not much of a challenge, but it was enough to get his mind off of teenagers and books and drama and all of the associated issues when dealing with high schoolers.

To be honest, Emma Frost has never had much use for parkour. She does run - or at least jog - but she's more likely to do that inside the mansion on a treadmill than anything outside. Outside means that any of the students could see her at any time, and Emma is far too much about the presence, the presentation, the perfection to ever allow them to see her sweat. So when she explores the grounds, she does so in properly regal fashion: horseback. Currently, she is atop a proud cantering white Andalusian, as she catches sight of Taskmaster's choice of exercise. « I would think you would get enough of that in the sessions with the students. » she comments wryly.

As the voice filters in through his head, Taskmaster doesn't flinch, simply continuing his routine. Since she is likely able to hear his responsive thoughts, he simply continues his leaping about. « I have to keep the kid gloves on with the students. I don't really get to cut loose very often, since it'll likely be bad for their mental health to see their teammates on fire or missing limbs. » He continues for another few moments before flipping backwards off of a statue and landing gracefully on his feet. « Didn't expect to see you out here, in any event. Most of the kids think you exist to menace them with cold stares and lots of detention. »

« Parkour is hardly going to main or incinerate them. If you want to run harsher scenarios, you know you are welcome to run the room without the students. But I do appreciate you avoiding permanent injury, physical or psychological. » Whether any believe it or not, Emma Frost is a very diligent and dedicated educator. She may lack anything remotely like a warm and fuzzy side, but she cares in her own way - it's bad for her reputation for her students to be hurt. So she avoids it. Period. (Or at least that's how she justifies it all to herself.)

« Of course I exist for that reason. » Emma affirms for Taskmaster. « And because I do, they will be the better for it. That does not mean that I do not have other activities. » The benefit of telepathy for conversation? Emma doesn't have to stay close, or turn around to face him to keep talking. It's just so much more convenient. And they're darned unlikely to be overheard this way, too.

Taskmaster rolled a shoulder and then scooped up a few rocks from the ground idly, tossing them up and down in his hands. « Well, it doesn't put forth a very personable image, that's for sure…and don't worry, I'll be running harder scenarios. Just have to figure out how far I can push them before the start to break. I only want a pleasant bending so that they'll be used to the outside world when it's full of people like me…or worse. » Giving the stones a heave into the air, the mercenary waits for a few moments before his blade flashes out of his scabbard, cleanly catching and then bisecting the rocks almost casually, as if the show of skill was of little effort to him. « I'm sure that we both have plenty of…other activities that we perform. »

« Indeed. I have never done well at being bored. » And yet, Emma is the sort that functions best, or so it seems, at rest. But she really is always moving. Just not physically. It is the natural dichotomy between these two. « I want a more in-depth performance analysis on Danvers. She has issues, and has to work through them. Better she do so here, than out there, where someone else could pay the price. » she admonishes Taskmaster simply. So cold, as if she feels nothing at all for her student, only for the successful completion of the assignment to teach and mold them. « I trust all of the others are performing up to expectations thus far? »

« They're doing well enough…and if I'm going to try and do something with Danvers, I'm going to need to take the kid gloves off. » With a simple motion, his sword is resheathed and he just starts playing hackey sack with the stone halves, almost seeming bored doing so. « And I might need to borrow some of that green rock that I'm sure you have locked in the vault. Not going to hurt her, just see how far she can be motivated. » Stopping the play for a moment, he turns and peers towards the building, considering. « You might want to double up the alarms. After a field trip into Gotham with Potty Mouth, I get the feeling we might have visitors of the advanced combatant kind. Young kid but he's being trained and bankrolled by someone else. Someone almost as good as me, maybe on an even field. Not much trouble for someone like you, but if he scopes out the place, I'm sure he'll get in. »

Emma purses her lips, but only momentarily, as she nods. « I see. Well, for now, you push Danvers. But no green rock. I need her to push with all she has, not face PTSD from that kind of thing. She'll face that soon enough, but only once I'm sure she's solid enough to handle it. » As cold and cruel and methodical as Emma can be, she refuses to break her students; she knows they'll never fully heal if she does. And she wants them as strong and stable as she can make them, so she's always careful of the boundaries.

« We need to institute new policies and procedures. The children should be swept when the board the shuttle buses to disable any and all transmitters and tracers. » Emma admonishes. « I will have to scramble the visitor's mind and send him packing, should he arrive. » Poor drooling Grayson.

« Very well. I'll push as hard as I can and not lose any pieces of myself that I might miss. Probably use a couple holograms for the fun of it. » She'd probably tear him apart if he wasn't careful, but then again, what fun was there if it wasn't a little dangerous, no? « Probably a good idea. I'll do what I can to deal with it myself, but I'll obviously defer to your superior expertise on the matter. » He paused for a moment, considering…which wasn't much use, as she was already in his head, but habits are hard to break, especially around telepaths. « A few of my less scrupulous friends are recruiting people like me to steal super-tech from the various sources around. I considered looking into it to see what they were up to, but I wasn't going to do anything without at least running it by you and the other staff first. Since I'm an at-will employee I know I don't need permission, but doing this favor for Xavier would be pretty moot if I ended up getting the place shut down. »

Emma considers Taskmaster carefully, then nods. « Alright. Put out your feelers. If they bite, we'll talk again, and arrange your departure for 'greener pastures' to follow that up. » Emma is no damned heroine; it's not in her makeup. But, she happens to know one or ten. She'll make a call, if they have actionable intelligence. And also probably pass the intel on to the Hellfire Club. Information is ammunition, and in their eternal quest for more power, the more ammunition the better.

« Don't get me wrong, I like a bank account numbering in the hundreds of millions. I'm already close, but, like I said, I don't want to end up making the favor to Xavier worth nothing. » A roll of his shoulder and Taskmaster lets out a mental sigh. « Oh, before I forget. Might need to get a few extra reinforcements for the Danger Room. Superconductor or six would be good. »

« Of course. Whatever upgrades are required. » Emma answers with an affirmative nod. Emma herself prefers bank balances that start with Bs. « We have the resources to clear you of any serious problems short of death, Taskmaster. The intelligence could be important. If you are willing, please, pursue it. » And if not, fine. Emma will do so herself, through different intermediaries.

« I'll be sure to do it. I'll give a report now and then when I get the time in between dodging bullets, listening to the girls whine about the boys, and figuring out how I'm supposed to train an alien that can lift a small country. » Taskmaster wasn't quite that affluent, but then again, he didn't have the pedigree…or, you know, being an Omega class telepath.

Northern Grounds - Xavier Estate
Beautifully manicured, this expanse of lush green land offers a scenic view of opulent gardening design. Hedges, flower gardens, pathways, small ponds and even rock gardens are featured here.

This area encompasses the immediate region to the north of the mansion. Here one can access the memorial gardens, the pathway to the stable, the northern forest and even the main house through side exits. It also connects to the eastern grounds.

*Obvious Exits:
* [MG] - Memorial Gardens - Xavier Esta
* [N] - Northern Forest - Xavier Estat
* [NH] - North Hallway - Xavier Mansion
* [SE] - Eastern Grounds - Xavier Estat
* [SP] - Stables Pathway - Xavier Estat
* [SW] - Western Grounds - Xavier Estat

Taskmaster
The being before you is, the one, the only, Taskmaster. Wearing a black reinforced combat bodysuit, completely with armored white guards for extra protection, he certainly looks the part of a superhero or villain…what might sell more for the villain, however, is the skull mask that he wears, reminiscent of Santa Muerta, or Saint Death. He carries with him a veritable arsenal of weapons, ranging from the broadsword and round shield, to various handguns, all the way to the odd device on his wrist, which likely serves some non-readily apparent purpose. He stands just over six feet, and appears to be in his prime, with the build of an Olympic athlete.

Image: http://tinyurl.com/lh3pfgr All rights reserved, etc.

Emma Grace Frost:
A vision of beauty, poise and grace now before you to feast your eyes, this stunning woman makes such a striking and commanding first impression that many can't tear their eyes away no matter how impolite it may be to stare. At just an inch or so shy of a full six feet in height - and that before adding the seldom-absent high heels - her willowy and sumptuous form is the equal to or envy of supermodels and the like, with platinum blonde hair perfectly coifed by one of today's best hairstylists and pale ice blue eyes that sparkle almost luminously. Her complexion is flawless, the healthy creamy pink unmarred by sun, strain or age. And her body's tone and shape are the kind of idealized miracles that have sent generation after generation of women in search of new and better ways to use and abuse themselves in vain to come anywhere close to the like. Her face's features are the perfected high cheek bones, small pert nose, symmetrical eyes, thinly arched and sculpted eyebrows, and full, ripe lips that are often called aristocratic, and given this lady's clear and firm control over herself and seemingly everyone else around her, that title is all too fitting.

A woman of such calculated perfection would not wear anything less than the absolute best, and this beauty is no different. Indeed she would seem to be the penultimate expression of that very truth. The outfit of the moment is quite obviously - to those with the experience to note such details - specifically designed and tailored to fit her and to enhance her best features. An unstructured white single-breasted jacket of raw silk covers a shimmering satin-finish pale blue silk chemise, and the top of her matching raw silk white pants. Her feet rest in a pair of open-toe white leather mules with two inch heels. Her ears are graced with a pair of dangling diamond earrings that easily cost a fortune each, and match the diamond chain choker about her neck set with a single pale blue lapis cameo at the nape of her throat. All in all, this woman doesn't just look like a million bucks. She looks like she alone is a million or two and she's wearing a few million more.

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