2010-07-03: A Little Tough Love


Emma_icon.jpg Laura_icon.jpg

Summary: Emma and Laura have a bit of a chat..

Date: July 3, 2010

Log Title A Little Tough Love

Rating: PG

Xavier Mansion - Courtyard

Surrounded on three sides by the school, a large courtyard forms the front yard. The courtyard leads right up to the door of the mansion. Yellow square stone slabs cover the ground where the grass would be. The most noticeable thing about the courtyard is the large statue of Jean Gray, aka Phoenix, in the middle as a memorial. Benches surround the outside of the statue so students can sit and hang out in the courtyard. There are two paths leading off the courtyard, one to the left and the other to the right.

Evening time, and with the sun beginning to find it's way lazily out of the sky and towards the western horizon, Emma seems to have stepped out of her office and is currently standing in front of the statue of Jean Grey, and is staring up at her. Her blazer is off and is over her shoulder, hooked on two fingers, displaying her back to where the body-hugging corset rests, and her elbow-length gloves are on display, turning her attire rather super-heroic. Once more she shakes her head, and gives a sigh at the statue…

Pushing one of the second story windows open, Laura looked out over the courtyard with a tilt of her head. A mass of waist-length heavy noir locks, pulling in the light breeze of early evening, the mutant girl steps out onto the sill, tandem claws pushing from the knuckles of her right hand with a quiet 'shhkt' sound. She steps outward, her right hand claws catching against the wall, scraping lightly as she falls to the ground below. Despite the distance Laura lands on near silent combat boot-cad feet, she bends into a low crouch before straightening, surveying the courtyard boredly, eyes flicking over the statue and away, not even noticing Emma at first. Wearing her usual all black - hip-hugging cargo's, with pockets lining the sides, a long sleeve black knit top, and fingerless gloves covering both hands.

"There IS such a thing as a door, Miss Kinney. Your father is at least housebroken enough to remember to use it once in a grand while…" The veiled look of something between disgust, and something else faintly behind it comes from Emma as she turns away from the statue. Her scent is Chanel, covering up any overt scents to give away her mood, and her body language is so calm and confident one would assume she was royalty. Coming around front, a brow arches, "And just where do we think we are going tonight?" The question meant to trigger those memories on a surface touch.

Reluctantly Laura pulled her claws back, wiping the small amount of blood the dual wounds produced on the side of her pants, as emerald orbs shifted towards Emma. "My way is faster." She replied flatly, her lips curling back slightly baring a sliver of ivory at the woman. "He is not my father, either." she an edge creeping into her voice, though it was subdued, having mixed feelings on the whole Logan thing. Laura shifted in place slightly, the scent of Chanel catching in her nostrils, making her nose wrinkle just slightly. "I am going out. I have more useful things to do with my time then sit here and do nothing." Her voice controlled once more, the same deadpan monotone, that she used with everyone, her face an expressionless mask as she stared at the Professor.

The look of disdain that flashes through her for a moment is only equal to the amusement in them before she slowly draws on the jacket, and buttons it carefully, working each button gently, even checking her wrists before then stating, "Useful… stalking central park and slashing up muggers and reprobates while you angrily ponder your life in solitude? Before I consider letting you leave campus, Laura Kinney… why are you -really- here?" Motioning back towards the mansion and student complexes, "Why come? When in the past you've tried, and tried, and taken umbrage with how woefully naive the rest of the children seem?"

A dark brow arched up, and she shifted in place again, right hip pushing to one side as slender arms came up to cross over her chest. "I had no intention on killing anyone this evening." She replied, which was true enough. Edward had yet to contact her on the next leg of the mission he'd hired her to do, so killing wasn't on the menu yet for this evening. Laura glanced over her shoulder quickly, barely seeing the school as she looked back. "Convenience." she stated simply. "I have a relatively safe base of operations, and I attend a few classes, beat a few students in mindless group training. I can find less wasteful uses of my time in and around New York."

Laura had never really been one to lie well, unless a mission called for it. Blunt as ever, as she had always been with the teachers at the school, she told the flat out truth. "If you would prefer, I move on, that can also be arranged. I have survived on my own in the past." A quick shrug of thin shoulders and Laura was fixing Emma with another long, unblinking stare.

The thin line of Emma's frown makes some of her attitude obvious, but at the same time she moves herself to remain in front of the young woman, arms crossed below the line of her bosom, one of her locks of golden ash hair trailing over one eye, "Then, Child… you have misunderstood the point of being here. This place is as much for your benefit, as it is for theirs. Their situation however is the opposite of yours. You understand what it means to be a mutant… you understand your powers, but you lack the understanding of the responsibility of them to yourself and others. You also lack a firm understanding of how to properly interact with people outside of the military gestapo that raised and tried to forge you into what you believe you are." The line curls into a slight one-sided grin, "I less see an angry young mutant… than an angry and jealous girl."

Squaring her shoulders and facing Emma fully, Laura's hands fall back down to her sides. Her head tilting to one side, as she often had the habit of doing, sending a messy wave of noir over one shoulder. "I know perfectly well what I am. I have been told so every day since I was born." she retorted, though her voice held no anger or resentment. It was simple, unquestionable fact in Laura's mind. "Logan bringing me here was a mistake. I have learned nothing." The bitter edge she'd been controlling finally sneaking into her tone, as she spoke her reply. Over-bright emeralds narrowed, and her brow furrowed over as nostrils flared out slightly. This was the only bit of emotion her expression would leak, though. Tell tale signs of Laura being upset, though if one weren't looking for them it would be overlooked easily.

Laura had made attempts. Small talk. That was a nightmare, and something she now avoided at all costs. Going to where 'normal' people her age went. Malls. Clubs. Out on dates. None felt right, and left her awkward and silent, or completely scaring off those around here. Her own roommate was blatantly terrified of her, and admitted so much to Laura. "Interaction with others is irrelevant. Useless." She finally snapped, a gruff under current in her words, as she finally broke her stare away from Emma, looking just passed her to the statue of Jean Grey.

Emma hmphs once more and looks over her shoulder at the statue, "She didn't think so… and as much as I have forever disliked Miss Grey for her optimism, ability, and that she always seemed to get what she wanted… the one thing she never did was give up on people. If she was here… she would most likely have found some means of opening a better dialogue with you." Turning her head back however, she levels her gaze on Laura once more, "I am however… not always so charitable." Taking one finger, she rejoins the errant lock with the others, "You have learned nothing because you refuse to learn. You have not given this place… these people… any chance. The rules of engagement you lovingly recite in there do not apply in the life you truly desire… however much you still cling to the stubborn belief that not caring means not being hurt. It's actually quite the opposite… not caring can hurt you more than you realize."

Laura felt the urge to scowl fully at the woman in front of her but she refrained, allowing her features smooth back into her usual blank expression. "You, professor, do not know anything. Whether I have tried or not. Whether chances have been given and explored, or not." Her lips quirked up into a poor interpretation of a smile, that never touched her eyes, in all her weeks of practicing the facial expression. It always came off more like a grimace. "You have been back here what? Perhaps, a week? Two?" Laura snorted derisively, resettling her gaze on Emma. "I hardly think you are the one to try an evaluate my time here." Her weight shifting once more, as one hand came up to brush back the heavy curtain of hair from her face, Laura paced once or twice in place before settling in again.

"I have made attempts." Ah, a defensive statement at last from the young mutant, her arms sliding back up to cross over her chest. "It is not my fault that people are impossible." And that her for lack of a better term 'father' was nowhere to be found. Wasn't he supposed to be helping her in this transition? Laura grunted under her breath, and shifted on combat boot-clad feet again.

There's actually a laugh that peals out from Emma, making her lean back and then roll her head a bit before taking several strides forwards and towards the girl, stopping a mere foot away, pushing right to the personal space. Standing there now, with her hands easily at her sides, she says in a rich tone, "Hardly the perfect place, isn't it… and I dare you to find a student that doesn't have some degree of special needs outside the norm. But isn't that the point." Turning herself she motions towards the gates, and turns her head, baring herself somewhat for the girl, but her confidence still exudes from her person, "Out there… you're a weapon. A knife to be pulled from the boot and meant to cut the throats of the people you're pointed to. That is NOT how the world should view you. We are not weapons. We are not deterrents for war. We are not things… to be abused and then discarded when our usefulness has abated." Turning back, the cold ferocity in her eyes does the name 'Frost' justice,

Turning back, the cold ferocity in her eyes does the name 'Frost' justice, "People ARE impossible, Laura… and therein lies the beauty."

A quick reflex action had Laura moving back and away from Emma as she advanced. Putting a bit more space between her and the woman, though she was still very much in Laura's very large personal space bubble. Her steady stare remained with Emma as she turned away slightly to look towards the gates, giving a single nod. "You had it right. I am a weapon. I am not a person, like the rest of you. I was made. Not born. Cultivated as an experiment. Trained to be lethal, and uncaring. Not nurtured or reprimanded and taught as a -child-." She'd meant to keep her voice controlled, but it was proving difficult around Miss Frost. Each word uttered grew more and more hostile. Her turn dropping in pitch and volume until the last words uttered were almost a snarl.

"Agree to disagree, on that last part. I hardly find the impossibility of humans to be beautiful. More maddening and not worth the time that is required to even begin to understand a tenth of them." Laura finally broke her gaze from Emma, stiffening slightly as she looked towards the front gates, trying to make herself appear larger then her meager five feet one inches. "Am I being held here, or may I go now professor?" Clearly closing the subject for any further conversation. Confusion swirled in Laura's thoughts, and it was only making her more irritable at this point.

Emma takes all that irritation, and as the confusion begins to make itself much more plain, "You have been free to leave this whole time, Laura. However… the question is not based on your ability to do so, but rather your desire to do so… now isn't it?" The former quirk from one side of her lips spreads to the other, "Stop parroting the dogma that was beaten into you by those idiot Canadians. What they wanted from you was the same thing they wanted from your father, from Deadpool, from Kane, from Sabretooth, from all the people they stole lives from and attempted to reshape into their swords to fight foes their own blind ambition and fear had forged for them." Now she leans in close, putting herself within easy stab range, "X-23… is a designation. Laura Kinney… is a name. X-23 is the weapon… Laura Kinney is the person. There is room for you both inside of yourself, and this world, but only if you finally have the ability to swallow your pride like your father finally did."

Stabbing was becoming a very appealing option, and the muscles in Laura's forearms quirked in response to that line of thinking. Her lips pressed into a tight line, and a low growl pushed past gritted teeth. "He is not my father. He sees me as no more then an abomination he is responsible for. How else do you explain his lack of presence?" she hissed, taking a deliberate step forward this time, getting right back in Emma's face. "I do not -feel- like a person. I feel the exact same way I did the day I left The Facility." Laura side stepped, moving past Emma, with one swift movement and not stopping. She let a glance pass over her shoulder towards the woman, "I suppose, for the moment I am not Laura. People get names. Weapons are given designations."

If Emma were scanning her mind now, she would see just how much her words had hit home in the young mutant, though pig-headedness and giving Logan a run for his money in the stubborn department were what was the winning set of thoughts at this point, there were slight kernels of doubt and confusion, and sadness. She was very much jealous of those who could interact and at least understand those around them. Stupid. Pointless. Waste of time. she hissed back at her own thoughts, entering the code quickly and pushing past the guarded entrance to the school. She was definitely done with talking for the day.

The reply comes mentally rather than in words, «Hardly in all cases, Child… you are neither Stupid… Pointless… or a Waste of my time. As a matter of fact you remind me… well… of me. Have a pleasant evening. Breakfast comes at the usual time.» As Emma herself smiles and begins walking towards the campus proper, flicking one last glance at Jean Grey's effigy, and rolling her eyes, "Shut up, you."

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