| Status Update |
| Summary: | Ms. Fairchild stops in to see Ms. Frost for a status update on the student body at Xavier Academy. |
| Date: | 2014-09-08 |
| Related: | Various |
| NPCs: | Iceman, Spartoi, Supergirl, Bombshell and various other NPC students are mentioned |
| Scene Runner: | Mutual |
| Social/Plot: | Social |
| Players: |
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« Come in, Ms. Fairchild. » Emma's mind-voice offers, as the redhead approaches her door. As nearly always, Emma is not at her door to let anyone in. Instead, there is a soft electronic whir and a click, and the door swings open on its own, a tiny machine activated by the cocentration of her psionic energies taking care of the door.
Beyond that door lies the pale white office of Emma Grace Frost, Headmistress of Xavier Academy. She does not rise from her desk, but does gesture magnanimously to one of the rather comfortable chairs sitting in front of her desk. She waits for the door to close and Caitlin to be seated before she begins.
"Well, Now that you have been through your morning sessions, can you give me your estimation on our patients? How are they continuing to adjust and adapt?" Emma doesn't quite say 'are we to the point of needing my telepathic adjustments', but it is implied. She wants the children happy and healthy, but that doesn't mean she's going to forgo using one of her strongest options to 'assist' them in this process. And she is concerned; powerful metahuman children with nightmares and PTSD is not a recipe for overall school safety.
Caitlin Fairchild takes the offered seat and smiles, nonplussed by the everyday theatrics of Emma's office. "They're doing well, given the short time that they've been away from captivity." She says, going through her notes. "They're starting to integrate themselves socially with the other children. Bobby and Jada are back to being friends, though I fear their relationship may've been soured by the incident. The ones that I have the most concern for are Sam and Max." She says, swallowing hard and feeling most responsible for the pain of the two. "They're still exhibiting anti-social behavior. They only seem to find comfort in themselves." She pauses there, allowing Emma a chance to catch up and comment.
The seemingly ever-controlled platinum blonde considers all of this, having no compunction about reading the full breadth of details cataloged in Caitlin's mind regarding each of the children. She knows all of it will end up in the files - the redhead is at least quite thorough in that regard - but she is always impatient for a first-hand accounting, despite being unwilling to allow the children to become as attached to her as she is sure they would become if she made herself more emotionally available.
"How much do you believe the twins' responses are a product of their programming against you? Is it time to bring in someone else to work with them?" Emma asks, a tad brutally. She knows how sensitive Caitlin is about the twins, but she also knows Caitlin understands how important they are, and that even her feelings cannot outweigh the need to do whatever is best for the children.
Caitlin Fairchild nods. "Possibly. I've been trying to keep back a bit when dealing with them, only because I don't want to trigger any incidents. They're minds are fragile, though." A warning to whatever Emma may have in mind for manipulation. "They've been used and abused so much that it's like taffy trying to find its own shape. I might even recommend periods of isolation. They need to grow as individuals before they can be fully re-integrated. If we allow them to stay co-dependent with each other, they'll never have a reason to join the others." She says, knowing full well the importance of the two and the sticky wicket that is her involvement both at the base and here as part of their recovery. "Whomever you use should be fairly strong and immune to most elemental attacks. Their… outbursts… could be damaging."
Emma cannot help but frown at that. "You, Ms. Fairchild, are the person I have available with those attributes. If we have need of helping these children, and you are sadly deemed the worst possible candidate to earn their trust and help them through this, then we will have to resort to other methods." It's not that Emma craves mentally controlling children; it's that she feels she has no choice. To be fair, susperience may be the best of a limited set of bad and worse options available, if it separates them from physical reality and the ability to actually harm others, and can potentially speed up their confrontations with and growth from their issues.
"What about the training program? How is that progressing?" Emma inquires. Obviously, she wants the Hellions ready as soon as possib;e; given what they have learned, they need them any minute now, no matter how terrible a thing it may be to send children into what may become a veritable war zone conflict.
Caitlin Fairchild nods slowly, understanding. "I know. I'm sorry. It's why I wanted to come here. I just think that there's too much pain when they see me. I understand that you only want what's in their best interest." She says. As the conversation goes to better results, Caitlin smiles. "Proceeding better than expected. Laura and Lana are particularly well suited for this training. They work well off of each other, and even Lana's disdain for authority plays right into the conditioning that we've been using." She thinks… "I have an idea… a Final Exam, so to speak." She grins. "We'd have to do it in the Danger Room, but somehow work it so it doesn't appear to be the Room.." She says, thoughts running through faster then she can speak. She sits quietly and sends images to Emma. Caitlin and the teens are awoken in their sleep with explosions. An invasion from a military force. the team is neutralized and captured, placed in a facility. They'll be forced to bond and use what they've learned in training to forge an escape, and then be really pissed off when they realize it was all a sim. "If we used an actual facility with an actual attack, people could get hurt. The Room seems to be the only way. We'll just have to manipulate them into thinking that they're still in their beds."
"That should be easy enough to accomplish." Emma opines, as she listens to the plan in detail. "I can arrange to bring everyone into the room, into segregated simulations of their dormitory rooms, as they go to bed the night before." Yes, Emma is talking about some pretty massive degrees of mental manipulation, but she thinks nothing of it. What must be, must be. If she is to turn her children into living weapons to save themelves and the rest of this stupid world, and metahumankind, then so be it. She will do it all, and just self-castigate later. They can all feel free to hate and blame her, so long as they are alive and free.
Caitlin Fairchild nods. "That's exactly what I'm thinking. Possibly knocking them out and making them think they're in their rooms, doing their nightly routine. I really think it's the best way to prove that they're ready. It'll take a couple days on intensity.." She smiles.. "But the toughest weapons are forged in the hottest fires." She sits back, happy with herself at least on that front.
Emma doesn't just believe in that principle; she embodies it. She /is/ it, incarnate. "Very well. I'll want your final evaluations on their training and their psychological states by the end of the week. Then we'll plan the details for the execution of the final scenario." Direct and to the point, Emma doesn't let grass grow under her feet. "And I will look into assisting with the treatment for the twins. Counseling is, after all, one of my primary responsibilities." In truth, Emma has so /many/ responsibilities. But her children come first.
Caitlin Fairchild nods. "I'll have evaluations and assessments on your desk within the next couple days." She says, standing. She then nods to the second part. "Thank you, Ms. Frost. I look forward to seeing their improvement." She says and nods before turning for the door.
Office 1 - Xavier Mansion
This is a generous sized office. The lower half of the walls are a burnished blonde wainscoting with the upper half decorated with a pale blue multi-hued colored textured wallpaper. Covering the floor is a plush carpet that matches the wallpaper.
Tasteful landscape paintings hang in a cluster on the right wall and against the wall to the left is an eggshell white fabric-covered sofa with another painting hung above depicting the New York City skyline.
In front of the office door are a couple of wingback chairs in eggshell white that face a gleaming neo-modern chrome and glass desk on which sits a holographic projection monitor and other desk things. Behind the desk is a white leather chair and a broad credenza decorated with plants, personal photos and books, beneath the wide window to the outside, flanked by two hutch tops.
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.
Caitlin Fairchild
A statuesque human female, she reaches a height above 6 feet tall. Her frame is muscular and curvy, a vision of fitness. Her long red hair pours down to her shoulderblades, however it spends most of it's time tied in a ponytail. The girl's green eyes are framed in wire-rimmed glasses with an upturned nose and pouty lips. Her skin is fair, obviously not seeing enough sunlight. No amount of clothing can disguise the girl's figure, one to make an hourglass jealous. Swell of breast and curve of hip sandwich a thin yest well-muscled waist and flat stomach. Legs go on forever, well-toned.
She's currently wearing a bright yellow sundress. The light cotton fabric hangs off the young woman's shoulders and looks as if it flows down her form. Her well-rounded curves are accentuated by the material instead of hidden by them. The neckline plunges down enough to show a hint of cleavage while still being proper. The sleeves only go down to a quarter of the girl's arms, showing off her toned muscles. The hem of the skirt ends just above the knees, showcasing Caitlin's long, fair-skinned legs. On her feet are a pair of summery white mules.