OOC:
X-Men MUCK - Thursday, October 02, 2003, 5:05 PM
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< NYC > Tavern on the Green < NYC >
Glitter and crystal adorn this small sanctuary from outside New York and even Central Park itself, like some snapped photo from a child's fantasy about fairy ballrooms and shimmering halls of ice castles. Decorated prominently, though not gaudy, with all manner of chandelier and crystal, three major dining rooms - The Crystal, Chestnut, and Park - form a loose horseshoe around a flourishing garden designating the tavern's center. Despite the restaurant's allure of glimmering fancy, however, it is fairly modest an arrangement as well, with flora trimming every room, reminiscent of a castle's massive garden and cobblestoned walkways. Indeed, outside amid the greenery folks often dine on cooler summer nights amid the topiary and flowers, enjoying the calm splendor of this fantasy-like setting.
[Exits : [O]ut ]
Emma has arrived.
The darling thing about telepaths is that.. they can read your mind. Or atleast in this case have creepy timing. Emma had been just about to call up Jean and arrange to have a little chat about this Dreamweaver that seems to be running around and making a mess of things. Of course she might also like Jean's take on this new power of hers, but a part of her has decided that she'll keep that little bit of information under her hat for now, waiting to see how this meeting turns out. The White Queen orders herself a glass of their best wine as she's led to Jean's table where she settles herself across from the woman, one leg crossing over the other, blue eyes holding a certain edge of curiosity. "You're looking much better than the last time we spoke."
Timing, as Elaine Grey among others instructed her youngest daughter, is everything. And with the scale of the Dreamweaver's game growing far beyond what the Mansion's supply of telepaths can keep tabs on, it's high -time- that Dr. Grey should have lunch with a certain Bad Girl of Good Family who just happens to have leant her a brain in the past. Needs must, they say. Offering Emma a slice of the home loaf left at the table by some previous obsequious waiter, Jean waits for the maitre de to leave before replying with anything more than a smile. "Well, not being a recently recovered amnesiac and bipedal lab rat will do that for a girl. I've taken the liberty of ordering a mixed plate of appetizers and the wine cart for us, I hope you don't mind?"
Funny how Jean always seems to be the one coming to Emma. Does that make this three now? Though the second time was more because Midori led the red-head to her, but that hardly matters, either way, it still counted right? And yet she's still viewed as the bad guy. Just the thought brings a slight quirk ot her lips as her hand flexes slightly, curling around the stem of a glass, waving away the offer of loaf with the other. "Sounds delicious." she nods and studies Jean for a moment, narrowing her eyes. "Something's different." is stated with a certainty before the feeling is shrugged off.
"Come now, Ms. Frost." Jean chides, green eyes suddenly if subtly alight at that firm statement from her part-time adversary and occasional ally. "You of all people can appreciate that a lady should be allowed a few secrets..." she trails off to butter a slice of the still-steaming loaf for herself, surgically precise, before getting down to business once the wine cart's been and gone and she's selected a dry riesling for herself. "Of course, no matter how -darling- the salads are here, I think we both know we're not here for idle chitchat. Shall I be straight with you?"
A soft, delicate and seemingly amused chuckle slips past Emma's lips, though Jean would know it's simply for show. "Indeed I do Jean, darling, indeed I do." she says, knowing better than to attempt to pry the information from Jean's mind. The glass that's held in her hand is twirled twice as the blonde lifts the glass to her nose, taking a small sniff as if judging. With a nod the glass is finally brought to her lips. "You always were my dear. Nothing's changed."
Jean meets the chuckle with a delicately diffident smile, just as carefully constructed as Emma's laugh, before raising her wineglass in a slight toast that allows the pre-ordered tray of appetizers to be slid into place between them. "There's something to be said for consistancy in this world of change, wouldn't you agree?" is her reply, settling into the inconsequence/consequnce of the verbal fencing match that seems to typify Jean and Emma's interactions even when they're getting along. Or... at least as much as two WASPish, gorgeous, intelligent, powerful women with diametrically opposed viewpoints ever get along. "But it's world change that brings me to play with my expense account today. Specifically, someone playing in our sandbox and blurring the lines between the dream plane and the real world. I'm sure you've probably noticed the number of people running around looking like Disney is holding a convention?"
"Well, some times consistancy can be quite a bore." Emma argues. "But for this specific aspect of life, I perfer a little bluntness." she shrugs and takes another thoughtful sip of her wine, tilting it in Jean's direction at the toast before placing it on the table, folding her hands thoughfully in her lap, watching as the food is slid into place with an almost bored expression, though that twinkle of depth in her eyes betrays the look on her face. "Ah yes, the mysterious reality manipulator. A.. charge.. of mine has been afflicted with this mysterious disnyfication. It is a touch bothersome isn't it?"
Jean selects a nicely flaky shrimp puff and takes the time to enjoy it and brush the resultant crumbs off the pristine expanse of her navy blue blazer before answering with a nod and a thinning of her lips in mild irritation at the Dreamweaver's antics. Or at least all the irritation she'll let -Emma- see. "You might say that... it also has the potential to get a little more than just bothersome. The more earlier afflicted people are beginning to show dangerous levels of personality hijacking. Depending on the fairytale character, and the mutant abilities, if any, of the victim, the changes can be dangerous. Not to mention that having the dreamscape and the real world too closely linked is a rather bad idea." To put it mildly. "The rest of the world isn't as versed in the idea of mind over matter as... women of our abilities."
'Woman of their ability' Emma smirks faintly, having liked the way that was said, though she does listen quite intently, even if she doesn't bother showing it, studying the tray of food thoughtfully. She's only seen Proudstar so far as his personality thus far hadn't been hijacked. "I haven't seen anyone suffering quite so much from this, only seen them with the clothing they're unable to get off." she states honestly and twines her fingers together. Though I'll certainly agree that, as delightful as this all may have seemed in the begining, the raining glitter and purple clouds do eventually where thin on one's nerves.
Jean waves another shrimp puff with a flick of a wrist, noting the smirk and offering one in reply, briefly, before turning Serious Dr. Grey again. "Oh, give it time, and you will. Not to mention that your... charges... are probably trying to conceal any negative personality changes around you." Jean certainly would. Although probably for very different reasons. "But if you're finding your nerves worn thin, I -do- have steps towards a solution. You needn't risk breaking a nail for the actual end game, but if you wouldn't mind just doing a little scientific observation for me..."
Emma nods. "Actually only James has really been affected and the last time I saw him, he was going through a different kind of stress." she offers a half shrug, one shoulder arching delicatly before dropping back as she reaches out to snake one of the shrimp puffs before Jean eats them all. "Though I may have to pry a little deeper and see how far this change has gone in him." she states, more to herself then to Jean. She looks interested at the final part, amusement lighting her eyes. "You know that I -do- hate to break a nail." she says and waves her hand encouraging the older woman to speak more.
Jean likes her seafood. And, after all, she is paying for lunch. She obligingly turns the lazy susan that the appetizer tray's been settled on, and favours a few lattice-style fries, skewering them on an appetizer fork and dipping them delicately in a sauce, before chasing her mouthful with some of the wine. "Simple, and you might even find it right up your alley." she qualifies, delicately licking one short nail'd fingertip clean before elabourating that "When you see some random person walking around looking like a refugee from Renfaire, just take a quick surface scan of their mind. No thoughts, just a general shape. Save it, and collect the next one you see, and so on. We need to catch the mental fingerprints of our little Dreamweaver if we're going to find them, and correlations between dissimilar brains are the best way to do it."
Emma is a fan of seafood herself but isn't all that hungry, happy enough to simply nibble at the shrip she currently has, eyeing a second as if weighing the pros and cons of eating it. "Already a step ahead of you." Or on the same page, but sh'ed never admit that. "I was able to get the basic impression of the manipulator through James's mind and could trail it for a little while, but the waves are so scattered I couldn't keep up." Hard for her to admit failure, but there it is. "If you'd like what I have so far, you're more than welcom to it?"
"Mmmm, lovely." approves Jean, taking the information for what it's worth, and pretending not to notice the one-upmanship inherant in how it was delivered. Which is, in turn, another form of playing one-up, after all. "And need you ask? Of course I would... I'm hardly so petty as to turn away what can help me, after all." Outwardly, she simply seems to lean back and half lid her eyes in approval of the wine, but on a more paraphysical level, the Phoenix's formidable barriers can be felt to lower just slightly.
Aren't these games fun? And never ending either it seems, but such is life when you're dealing with two female telepaths, one of which is a first class bitch. "I know, silly of me to even ask." she chuckles softly and remains as she is, spine stiff-straight as she takes another sip of the wine. "After all, this wouldn't be the first time you've needed my assistance." And with that, her mind slowly lowers its own shielding, reaching out to gnetly knock on Jean's own mind, a curtesy most others would never recieve.
Jean's mental presence flares slightly at that final dig, before it's firmly restrained. Alas, probably not before Emma notices, of course. Then again, this brings them to about even in Jean's accounting of the sallies bandied so far. Answering the mental knock with a further lowering of her shields, redirecting them to reinforce certain core areas of her mind lest the White Queen get nosy, she tips her chin, and folds her hands on her lap after lowering her wineglass, all studious attention.
Emma notices the flair but doesn't allow her tiny smile to widen any more than it already has, showing no sign of even noticing. After all she did it for her own amusement and to get a rise out of the woman, not to shove the fact that she got a rise out of her in her face. "She follows along the mental path that Jean lays out, not getting to nosy, she knows better than to do that while Jean's concious. After a moment she pauses as her own eyes lower just a touch and she searches for the correction information, proccessing it and 'downloading' it into Jean's mind."
Jean's eyelids flicker briefly as the transfer occurs, and then she sits forward and interlaces her hands around the base of her wineglass with a smile far more Hunter than the refined Dr. Grey's usual expression. "Thank you, Emma." she replies with exquisitely absent gentleness. "This will be of a great deal of use. I'll let you know what I find out pertaining to this, yes?" she offers.
Emma gently pulls out of the woman's mind and finally leans back in her seat, her mental shielding flickering back into place with a brief nod from the blonde telepath. "It would be appreciated." And by appreciated, she means expected. "I'll also continue to scan as many minds as I can and further define the fingerprint. I may be able to actually follow the trail at some point, so I'll keep at it."
Jean settles her own shields back in place with the mental air of someone patting their hair back into place, and eyes the large amount of appetizers still left. "Well, I'll keep you informed. We both have the other's number, after all. And I have a meeting I need to get to in... half an hour, by my watch, so order what you'd like for lunch. I've arranged to have the bill settled on my account."
Emma disregards the offer to order lunch on Jean's expense with a flick of her wrist. "I actually have my own meetings to get to rather soon so I"m afraid I don't have the time for lunch." she says, shrugging lightly once more. "And yes, I do have your number, though I doubt that we'd have to actually meet again to transfer the information in case our scheduals don't mesh well." she states and brushes a crumb from her lap, once more retaining that bored expression. "Though when we have a chance, I would like your imput on something.
"Such is the way of we modern women, isn't it?" replies Jean with a return to offering pointless polite small talk as she takes a final sip of wine, and then leaves the half-full glass on the table. "And, one way or another, I'll be in touch. -Splendid- to see you again, Emma." Awww, and you can barely hear the sarcasm. And then away Jean goes.