Meeting With The Headmistress

Brief Title:
Meeting With Headmistress

Characters:
Emma Frost and Armand

Scene Runner/Watcher:

IC Date:
08/17/12 09:00

Location:
Headmistress' Office - Massachusetts Academy

Summary:
Armand is called to the Headmistress's office to report on how his detention is going and ask for help.

Social or Plot:

TS:
No

Log:
Early afternoon, on one of those charmingly sunny, pastoral sorts of days Snow Valley is known for (besides, obviously, its winter snow). Not even the headmistress' office can diminish its good cheer... though it is diluted slightly. The headmistress herself is studying a readout on her computer terminal when the intercom on her desk chirps, "The young man you sent for is here, Miss Frost."

"Thank you. Send him in," Emma replies softly, a faint edge in her voice, turning from the monitor to face the office door.

Just the idea of going to meet the headmistress can be...intimidating but Armand has ironed his slacks, taking extra care with making sure his uniform is clean, brushed his hair and pulled it back in a braid, put in his simple little silver studs and concentrated on breathing. When he does arrive however, he adjusts the strap of his messenger bag and bows his head a bit as he enters the office. "...Bon Jour, Miss Frost."

"Merci beaucoup, Monsieur Pierre... and to you as well," Emma replies, nodding, not letting on that she took a quick peek into his head to remind her of her French. She steeples her fingers upon her desk in true headmistress style as he enters. "Please, be seated. You can leave that luggage by the door, if you wish."

"I have been keeping an eye on your progress with your detention, Monsieur Pierre. It has gone well?" she asks, in that disturbing habit principals have of asking you questions to which they probably already know the answers.

Armand takes time to leave his messenger bag near the door before making his way to the chair on his side of that desk, settling down and folding his hands in his lap as he blinks and tilts his head to the side. "Ahhh...oui. It is a good time for me to be spending time finishing the homework and preparing for tests. I turned 18 recently so it is...well I am a bit behind but it is going well. Merci." A pause. "Oh! And I am upholding the rest of the detention things as well."

"You are, yes. Your honesty is refreshing, to be honest," Emma replies. "There are times, sitting behind this desk, that I never expect to hear the unadulterated truth. I wish I were wrong about it more often."
"Though there was that matter of what you said to Lamont..." she adds, leaving the sentence hanging.

Armand a soft sigh of relief when he hears the comment about honesty however...when Lamont is mentioned his eyes widen a bit before he coughs softly. "Eeehh...oui. I /may/ have called him um an incompetent toad with the brain of a retarded...monkey..." He trails off. "But they translated it wrong into a stupid frog with the arse of an elephant and I would /never/ be that rude!"

"I... see." Emma muses. "Somehow I think you might be, given cause. It's a trivial matter, honestly, and I see no reason to do more than suggest that you keep a better grip on your tongue in the future. Even in French." She leans forward just a bit. "Decorum is important in such high-class establishments as this. You just never know who might be listening."

Armand idly tugs his braid over his shoulder and smooths it down as he quirks an eyebrow and just gives a little nod. "Oui madmoiselle...ah, I mean Headmistress." Then at the mention of high-class and decorum he fidgets and nods firmly. "I am understanding and doing my best to adapt to presenting myself in such a ways as not to bring embarassment to the school."

"And so far, you have done well in that regard. Slips are to be expected," Emma replies, nodding once. "But avoided as much as possible. With time, they will come less often. But practice is essential. It's part of the purpose of this assignment, really."

"Thank you, Headmistress." Armand taps a finger against his chin before clearing his throat. "Forgive for asking, but here the studies that I am having are not only academic...I am fearing that in certain regards I am failing or not measuring up as much as others eh...will this effect my ability to finish out my studies to their completion?"

"A good question. I can arrange for tutoring, if it is needed. And you need not worry about it interfering with your detention. I can arrange for it to take place during the classroom phases of detention," Emma replies, giving him a more thoughtful look. "I doubt it will interfere with your final grades. Especially not with appropriate aid and guidance. It is, after all, why you are here."

Armand's eyebrow raises before he worries his bottom lip. "So the basics of the self-defence and such tings..." He trails off. "Oui, I understand." He takes a deep breath and idly strokes his braid as he looks thoughtful. "Work is going well as well. After the demons were attacking and the shop I was working in was...eh destroyed, I was finding a new place. Oui."

"Perhaps you should tell me what areas you are struggling with," Emma adds softly. "From there, we can tailor a tutoring program that should help shore up the weak areas."

Armand is quiet for a few moment before he looks around warily and then frowns, considering how to approach the topic. "This is why I was asked to come here." He tugs off the little tie at the end of his braid, letting his hair fade from the dark brown to a jet black color and it unbraids itself really as he sighs softly. "There are not others who were being asked to come here, with things like this. They have strength, they have...speed, they can change what is to bend more easily to their own desires." He worries his bottom lip. "So with the things...outside of the academic that I am having to training in with the others, I am not being - " He cuts himself off. "I am not an asset to the exercises, but a burden due to uncertainty and hesitation."

Emma studies Armand thoughtfully for several long moments, frowning just faintly. "Perhaps an aspect of Empath's most recent cruel joke..." she muses, almost to herself. "The fool." Straightening a little, she nods. "Uncertainty, hesitation... they can be trained out, with time. But combat is not the only reason for our training. Not every power is meant to blow holes in walls or vehicles, or to find weaknesses in seemingly-unstoppable foes. Others have less obvious uses. Yours seem to be of the latter variety. Show me what you can do. I have read your file, but seeing is quite another matter."

Armand's jaw sets at the mention of Empath but he just tilts his head to the side, tilting his head back some and shaking out his hair. He's listening closely however before he glances towards the door where his messenger bag is and he then looks for something on the desk, a pen and he nods a bit. "There is not much." He allows his hair to fade from the black into a prism of colors (Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet) seeing as he's been working on that. Then he allows the tendrils of hair to reach out behind him as he looks over his shoulder, extending long enough to hook tendrils/wrap them around the handle of the bag and then to lift it and allowing the hair to retract enough for him to reach out and take the bag. Then he turns his head, letting hair reach out to pick the pen off of the desk and he slides a few strands up to with concentration...click the pen on."

Emma watches, seemingly impassively, as Armand lets his hair do its work. "Interesting," she says at last. "And likely not as useless as you might think. I think we can arrange specialized training for your unique abilities. The length and color changes have obvious applications, paired with a little training in makeup and acting. Fine manipulation seems to need a little work, so it comes more naturally, with less effort... and perhaps we can train you to focus on more than one task as well."

Armand bows his head with an exhale, allowing his hair to retract back to his normal length, dropping the pen and he tucks a stray strand behind his ear as he nods again. "Thank you Head Mistress, that's all I ask."

"It is why you are here. So don't thank me. You may think you've made a dreadful mistake before it's all over," Emma replies. "But that is true of everything worth doing." She stands, moving around the desk. "I do have one more question," she says, reaching over to grasp a handful of Armand's longer hair in back and giving it a tight squeeze. Not pulling, but squeezing. She keeps her eyes locked on his, her telepathy sinking tendrils into his surface thoughts, seeking signs of pain, however slight, and its root.

Armand is quiet as he stares off into the distance as he looks chuckles softly and nods. "Oui...it is how we learn-" Whatever he's going to say however is cut off when the woman reaches over to grab his hair and the squeeze causes him to sit up straighter and there's no pain initially, discomfort however as his eyes widen a bit and its the type of discomfort that can lead into pain if an arm or an leg was grabbed and squeezed in such a way, but he feels it, eyes widening as he actually hops up onto his chair into a crouch reflexively allowing his hair to grow out bit more to allow his tugging against the squeeze before he realizes it.

"Hmm... increased sensitivity," Emma muses, releasing the hank of hair. "That explains some of it. Sorry about that, but it was necessary," she continues. "In that case, we could also train in blind use of your hair, without the aid of your eyes, so that you can reach, identify, and manipulate things out of your sight and normal reach. You should be proud, Monsieur Pierre... your potential, though subtle in its seeming, is greater than many others' whose potential is much more obvious."

Armand blinks as his hair is released and his eyebrows raise a fraction, brain processing and translating what's happened before he slips and slides back into a seated position. Another few blinks before he's looking somewhat intrigued before nodding slowly. "Merci...Headmistress, I am curious to see how much more it is potentially...possible to ahh, grow."

"A good idea..." Emma muses, looking at the ceiling for a moment. "Let's try something else. Touch the ceiling," she begins, her voice sharpening subtly. There can be no doubt that that is an order. "And hold it there."

"Pardon?" Armand looks up towards the ceiling before tilting his head to the side before squinting and he lets group of hair tendrils twist together before he starts reaching up above his head towards the ceiling and unless the ceiling is higher than 12 feet he can brush the hair against the ceiling as he bites his bottom lip and concentrates on holding it there. "...fortunately, somebody seems to dust up here..."

If Emma smiles at the joke, it's tiny, and gone so quickly it might have been imagined. The 10-foot ceiling probably isn't too much of a stretch. "Now reach toward the wall behind you, along the ceiling. I want to see how far you can reach," she directs, watching the hair with arms crossed.

Armand closes his eyes for a moment before looks up again to peer at the ceiling and he relies on what he can feel to slide the hair against the ceiling until he feels the wall behind him and he grits his teeth, extending the hair a bit more and there's a stretch before he exhales shakily.

Emma nods. "Retract," she says. "That's probably about your limit right now. Don't want to start pushing hard until training. All in all, I'd say you have a pretty good reach, but it can get better."

The little Frenchman retracts those strands rather quickly, shaking his hair out when its back to its normal length and he idly scratches his cheek. Armand is quiet though, eyeing the desk before looking back to Emma and nodding. "Merci."

"I think that's enough testing for now. This is a power I've almost never even seen, let alone worked with... I'll need to do a little research into possibilities for training, areas I haven't thought of..." Emma muses, walking back behind her desk, her razor-sharp mind already hard at work at seeking out avenues of research. "Thank you, Monsieur Pierre, and I'll not keep you any longer. You may go. I will be in touch with more information on future training."

Armand raises from his seat and he gives a small bow. "Thank you Head Mistress, anytime you require something sweet baked do not hesitate to let me know...Thank you." He quickly picks up his bag and breathes, blinking as he starts for the day, pausing at the exit before whispering. "Merci." Then he's gone.

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