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As promised, Emma Frost assisted Hope with a shoper and toiletries to clean herself up and make herself presentable. And, being Emma, she didn't even bat an eye at producing an entire small wardrobe for the young woman to dress to the proper time period - and so fashionably too! (Emma would never do anything by halves, after all!)
Emma made a phone call while Hope was in the shower, contacting Charles Xavier. "Pardon me, Charles. I am sorry to bother you, but there is a young woman who has been brought to my program. It seems she befriended Lorna. The young woman insists she knows you, and that she and her father were headed to see you when they were separated. She has identified him as Nathan. I wanted to let you know, in case he has arrived, or does before we can. But with your permission, once I have helped her clean up and make herself presentable, I intended to bring her your way, the better to reunite her with her father, and perhaps we can work together to determine quite what is going on?"
That message delivered, it has likely been about two and a half hours since then, when the white limo pulls up to the faux wrought iron gates out front of the Greymalkin Lane mansion. Once those gates retract, the limo pulls up out front and a white-liveried driver exits the car, coming around to open the rear passenger door in a tableau not unlike Emma's visit with Lorna a short time ago. As before, Emma exits second, behind the younger woman, once more impeccably groomed and arrayed in purest white, the platinum blonde sweeping the grounds telepathically to assure herself of whom is around, and what their intentions might be. She is a bit more free with such matters than she was last time, since she knows the telepath she will encounter in the doing.
*
Emma's message catches Charles while he's giving a late afternoon lecture, though the message is received once he's finished with class for the day.
With that warning and with Emma being especially noticeable upon arriving even before the gates are opened for her, Charles is waiting at the front door with his hands in his pockets, wearing a loose navy sweater just as he was the last time Emma brought a visitor. By the different collar and the slight variance in hue however it's a different navy sweater, take that for what you will.
Since the talk they had upon Emma's last visit, Charles goes so far as to send a mental greeting even as Emma is driving up. «miss Frost. Thank you for contacting me about Hope; you weren't the first, in fact. I'd be curious to know what you make of her tale.» he's also checking to see if Hope herself is currently reading as telepathically active still. It's a good thing she can control what she does or doesn't absorb, or this mansion could have been a very hectic place for her.
*
You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink. Or something like that. Hope knows very well that more appropriate clothes for the time period are necessary, but the bright colors, fine fabrics, and skirts are well outside her usual wheelhouse. She's uncomfortable, and it shows as she climbs out of the limo, shaking out green and yellow plaid skirt she's wearing as she takes a look around the area.
She doesn't seem to be showing any powers at the moment. Unless excessive tactical awareness is a power. As she looks around, she marks exits, entrances, points of cover. It's an ingrained habit, a lifetime of practice. And over it all, an anxious sense that this is not how it was meant to be.
*
« Mister Xavier. You are quite welcome. I would not take kindly to anyone dropping by my own program unannounced; I could hardly do the same to you. Miss Dane told me she'd spoken to you. My impression thus far is simply this: as fantastic as her story sounds, she believes it, wholeheartedly. And beyond a degree of paranoia, I detect no overt signs of rampant mental instability. » Which is not to say that Emma finds Hope sane, only that she is not straight-up two sandwiches short of a picnic lunch.
Emma emerges from the car behind Hope and stays relatively still, watching mentally and physically as the girl looks the place over. "If you will allow me to make introductions. Mister Charles Xavier, founder of this school, please allow me to introduce Miss Hope." No last name was exchanged, so she offers none. "As promised, Hope, I have brought you here. Charles informs me there has not yet been any sign of your father, Nathan. Can you tell us what to expect? How to recognize him?"
*
A few moments after the limo pulls in and Hope and Emma disembark to greet Xavier, a very mundane and everyday yellow cab pulls up to the Greymalkin Lane gates. But instead of the vehicle's driver buzzing for entry, the cab's passenger chooses to get out and have her luggage unloaded here.
The 'winter in New York' coat, scarf, and hood attire conceals the arriving person's identity from the casual glance, but Xavier should know who it is immediately. And for the more observant, the luggage consists of a single soft-sided duffel bag and the concealing winter coat looks to have seen better days. Also, likely the most eye-catching thing about the new arrival is the vividly floral, floor-length skirt visible under the bottom hem of the coat.
*
Stepping down the front steps, Charles reaches the side of the limo, nodding in acknowledgement to Emma and offering hope his hand. "A pleasure to meet you face to face, Hope." he greets. "I'm afraid miss Frost is right, there has been no sign of your father as of yet. But you're welcome to stay with us until we can find him." Charles pauses, glancing again towards the gate. "Old friends and new today, it would seem." he notes with a warm smile. «It's been far too long.» he sends to Ororo.
*
Hope reaches out to take Charles's hand, hesitant but unwilling to let it show. She definitely catches the arrival, half-turning to be able to keep an eye on the person approaching. Who, to her disappointment, isn't the person she was hoping for.
"Hope Summers," she introduces herself, seemingly unaware of what that surname might mean around here. "And it's complicated. I don't know that he's going to show up here. I mean, in a couple hundred years, sure. We were aiming for about fifty from now. I just know that this is where we were headed, if not when. So…he's got to show up here eventually, right?"
*
«It has, Mr. Charles.» The bundled-up woman hefts her lone bag and steps to and through the gates, walking unhurriedly toward the limo, mansion, and people all standing outside. Unlike Hope, she's not looking around at all, her eyes calmly and simply set on the people ahead. A chill November breeze cuts through briefly, then calms. And doesn't come back.
«I hope that I Have not arrived at a bad time?»
*
With Hope's introduction made, Emma remains silent, letting the younger woman converse with Charles while she remains a mildly interested observer for the moment, rather than interrupt with nothing useful to add. Better to be silent and thought a fool, than open one's mouth and confirm it true. But she does notice Charles connecting with the mind now entering the property, and she turns to glance past her shoulder, catching sight of the exotic beauty of the African woman approaching, even bundled for the cold. It is Charles' school, so she asks nothing for now, simply stays where she is.
*
Charles looks a bit bemused, shaking Hope's hand. "Summers? You'll be the third person with that surname to be staying here." he remarks. Knowing Hope's story, it does cross his mind that it may not be coincidence, but for now he chuckles, waving to the new arrival.
«Just Charles is perfectly fine, Ororo. Or Professor, if you feel the need for formality. And no, not at all. In fact I think we could use all the friends we can find, just now.»
As she draws nearer he gestures with one hand, having his own turn to give introductions. "This is Ororo Muroe, a friend of the school. Ororo, this is Emma Frost who runs a school of her own, and Hope Summers who will be staying here for awhile."
*
"No Nathan, though?" Hope asks at Charles' response, dejected. Too wrapped up in worry over her so-called father to think about what it might mean to have other Summerses already in residence. "It's not- I mean, Nathan's not biologically my dad, but he raised me," she explains.
"So. His name. I'm sorry," she says, looking between Emma and Charles. "I know this must seem crazy. But I promise, I'm not crazy. I'm just in the wrong time. Hi," she adds with a look to Ororo, smile tight.
*
Ororo finally gets to within earshot as Charles introduces her to the other two women. "A pleasure to meet you both." Her English is clear, but unusually accented. Definitely African of some variety, though unless one is very familiar with the region, exactly which dialect is unclear. She offers Hope an unfettered smile. «I was actually hoping to request a favor of you, Professor. My … previous residence encountered troubles.» Her expression remains politely calm, even as the chill breeze kicks up again for a moment.
*
Emma turns as Ororo is introduced. "Good afternoon, Miss Munroe. Nice to meet you." Emma is always painfully polite and proper, and now is no different. What might strike some is that a woman of such obvious means and proper American upper class upbringing in no way shows any signs of discomfort or disapproval with being introduced to a black woman; such would rarely be the case amongst a woman of her station in this timeframe.
"Hope, do you want me to remain? We can discuss this further, try to determine any other way we might be able to help you locate Nathan. But the choice is yours." Emma will not intrude; it is not her way. Of course, that also frees her to step back and maintain a firm emotional distance from all of this. That cannot possibly be why she would do so. Would it? How horrible!
*
"It's alright, Hope. Your story may be bordering on the fantastical, but in a time when aliens and sorcerers and gods all seem to have found their way to the real world, I'm certainly not going to dismiss it out of hand. Whatever the case, I intend to look for your father." Charles says kindly, it not taking a telepath to see how adrift the girl feels.
Charles somehow is not surprised that Emma's ever-perfect manners cross even atypical boundaries for normal society.. for all her aloof demeanor, like so many mutants, she has good reason to have reconsidered societal expectations of worth. He also can't help but nudge her lightly with, «They can tell how precious their trust is to you. People respond to that, weather you mean them to or not, you know.»
His attention turns again to Ororo, and Charles tilts his head with a concerned expression. Things are restless even in Ororo's home? «I'll do whatever I can…I hope everyone is alright?»
*
Hope looks between the other three, not picking up on the telepathic conversation but certainly noting the pauses and starting to put two and two together. Charles and Emma especially get a speculative look as she considers the pros and cons of borrowing just a little bit of telepathy. The newcomer is another matter entirely. That feels like…like something so much larger than she needs to even try to copy.
"This is where we were headed," she says quietly, answering Charles and Emma both. "But I don't know how long it will take him to get here. This happened once before, and it took him two years to catch up. But I don't need to look for him. When he gets here, he'll find me. He always finds me."
*
Ororo's eyes linger on Emma for a moment longer than would seem polite, as if she's trying to figure out an ulterior motive to the pale blonde's atypically polite greeting. That was likely the biggest culture shock she received upon arriving in New York — the rampant racism. Seeing none of it from someone she was fully expecting to treat her as, well, coldly as so many others in this country have is surprising.
Looking to Charles again, she thinks her replies still, unaware of Hope starting to pick up on it. «My family back home are all fine. It is… the flat I was sharing in New York. The landlord chose to evict my flatmates and I in favor of letting the lodgings to a…» Her eyes flick toward Emma ever so briefly. « … a different group of lodgers.»
Another chill gust blows past for a moment, then settles again.
*
Emma's pale blue eyes seek out Charles' gaze as she replies, gently but with a very cool reserve to her mental tone, « Yes, Mister Xavier. I am aware of the … connection that forms within the minds of the young people I am helping. » And as she told him before, it is honoring that trust that binds her most closely to them, despite her desire to remain aloof, alone and isolated. "Perhaps, Hope, it might serve well for everyone to head inside? It would be warmer, there, I am sure, and more comfortable. Especially if you need to remain for some time, to remain the anchor for Nathan to seek." Emma would rather they had a way to seek Nathan, but she's not sure how to best accomplish that.
"Is everything alright, Miss Munroe?" Emma inquires, as the other woman does not respond aloud, despite being addressed that way. She is aware of the telepathic conversation going on, though she also knows she herself was not invited into it. She caught the glance, however, and she isn't sure what she herself may have done to unsettle the woman, beyond being the vary painfully upper-crusty and very white woman she is. Which she cannot help anymore than the African woman can help her own coloration.
*
"You mean you believe he's lost you in time, not just in location." Charles clarifies, his expression sympathetic as Hope mentions getting lost once before for two years. "Well.. then we'll have to hope he is able to reach you more quickly this time. But yes, let's all of us get inside, it's getting chillier by the day. Miss Frost, would you care to stay for some tea?" Charles offers, leaving it to Emma's discretion if she chooses to stay or go. He leaves off the mental conversations, though he does nod in acknowledgement to Emma— he remembers very well her saying as much. But as for the other matter, best perhaps to leave that discussion for now.
*
"We jumped too many times," Hope explains, glancing to Ororo. Emma has heard at least bits and pieces of this before. This new woman…Well. It does seem like this is a place for crazy stories, at least. "We were trying to shake a tail, but he couldn't seem to lose him. And it was wearing Nathan out. Bad. I'm starting to think he did it on purpose, to draw the tail off of me and onto him. I just don't know if-" But that's a thought she's not ready to follow, nodding numbly at the offer to go inside. "Sure," she agrees. "Thanks."
*
When Emma asks if she's alright, she nods immediately but then adds, "I… it is a long story." And one she does not at all mind taking indoors. With two suggestions to go inside where it's warmer, she's more than ready to follow. After all, she never even put down her duffel bag.
*
"Some tea would be quite welcome, Mister Xavier. Thank you kindly for the offer." Emma offers. She never once delivers an instruction aloud to her white-liveried driver, but he nevertheless makes his way back to the driver's seat of the limo and pulls it around to a proper parking place out of the way, as was done during her last visit. Charles would be aware that Emma did not so much have a mental conversation with the man, but simply created the impression in his mind of a directive delivered aloud. It was just easier that way, apparently. That said, Emma gently 'gathers' Hope more by sheer presence and intent than any physical contact, and helps usher the young woman into the mansion, expecting Charles - since he knows Miss Munroe better - to assist with the other young woman as they all make their way inside for tea, warmth, and conversation.
*