─── ✶⋅ WHO ARE WE ⋅✶ ──

Seemingly less intense than before, drained from the working day, Emma herself is sat with a freshly brewed tea, stirring the teabag around with a dainty little teaspoon. It swirls around in her cup, the colour of the steaming water getting more saturated with every second. It's calming, she thinks, but not quite enough for her mind.

"I wish to express my concern without it seeming.." She pauses, halting the stirring of her spoon for a moment as she searches for the right words to say. Sifting through various combinations of words, not wanting to sound too this way or that -- she finally settles on:

"Without it being too much."

The diamond blinks slowly, glancing down at her tea before resuming the stirring, lifting her gaze to meet Jeanne-Marie's once more after finding the perfect rhythm again.

jeanne-marie beaubier knows concern; what it is, what it isn’t, and what it pretends to be.

up until now, she would’ve brushed off emma’s behaviours as merely something typical of what those in charge often prioritise: harmony, order, discipline, reputation, status quo, power. it’s nothing new, nothing unique to any particular system – ergo, the x-men are just as guilty of it even with the claims of mutant solidarity, unity, and community. we all know how these stories usually go.

now, however? jeanne-marie understands there’s more to the white queen’s intentions; care, perhaps, expressed in the only way she knows how — similar to how her own twin brother is incapable of subtlety, he cares with everything he has to offer and can rip out from the world for his loved ones, even if it’s at the cost of being suffocating, if aurora must be honest.

hovering.

it, too, can happen for many reasons.

"My evening is somewhat clear, save for an hour dedicated to grading. You may return here after five, if that suits you."

The flawless stare rebuilds itself in the diamond's ocean eyes once more, the small crack now nowhere to be seen. In true FROST fashion, she, of course, would be hard on herself for that later, but for now--

"You are welcome."

It's a short response, still jagged at the edges, but this way she at least feels like she has control over the situation, and she hadn't just almost lost herself to something so unimportant -- compared to everything else on her plate, that is.

In an odd sort of way, she begins to ponder whether this talk with Aurora would help ease her mind of a few stresses -- but, honestly? Perish the thought. This was merely an opportunity to correct people's assumptions of her -- her motives, at the very least.

"Now, off with you, I can feel my brain pulsating in my skull, and I dread to think how much worse that would get if this conversation were to venture any further."

jeanne-marie blinks.

she can’t truly be serious; but it is emma, and henceforth, she very much is not joking about it — nor offering room for negotiation.

“d’accord, quarter past five then,” she replies, preparing to finally leave. “that is fine by me.”

it is very much not fine, but she’ll work with the very little that the white queen is somehow giving her, and — aurora has survived worse rooms before; bright, sterile, deprived of life and colour...

emma’s space at least comes with a functioning thermostat.

“alright,” jeanne-marie begins after she’s sat down opposite to the blonde, settling down with her file, a few sheets of paper, and a couple of pens. not really a session, but it doesn’t hurt to come prepared anyway.

she’s visibly much more relaxed, and she feels just as composed on the inside; choosing to step back was a good call, it’s helped tremendously to gather her nerves and her thoughts, and aurora is unlikely to be put on the spot anymore.

wearing a thin coat, she has her hair tied up, allowing the pointed ends of her ears to be visible in their entire by doing so – and not quite being concerned with those, at this moment particularly.

emma has yet to say anything about the time — a speedster may be accused of many things but tardiness, usually — but aurora knows she’s working against the clock regardless.

“we’re here to discuss how you can better express your concern for others,” she says, glancing at emma. “such that it’s less likely to be misinterpreted as—” hovering. “—something you know it’s not. is that correct?”

can’t expedite progress, that said. not even speedsters can manage that.

"And accepted. Do not let it happen again."

A little more time, however, is taken to consider the previous words. Underlining the difference between her concern and her indulgent probing was, of course, an ideal move, she would hate for people to have her intentions misunderstood.

Which, they often already were -- and she did, in fact, hate it.

Taking the offer given, the diamond carefully flips it, setting the stage for Jeanne-Marie. "And how would you suggest I do this?" She asked, raising a perfectly sculpted brow of her own. "I assume you have.. suggestions, if you are bold enough to bring the thought to light."

She wasn't trying to sound so curt, but that often seemed to be the diamond's default, much to the distaste of many.

'Pardon me for not being able to understand what's on your mind--'

Aurora's words swam through her mind, circling her own thoughts like they had more right to do so than they really did. How interesting it was, for Emma's carefully crafted defences to only hurt her in her everyday life.

In a way that could only be described as awkward, the White Queen cleared her throat, the hardened gaze cracking just slightly.

"I.. will attempt to be more forward with you in the future."

in the same vein, she hedges a guess that the conversation would end there — only for emma to make aurora raise her eyebrows — which she immediately undoes, as to not appear rude or startled — by actually seeking out suggestions.

an open mind to suggestions for improvement; the willingness to admit there’s a shortcoming in the first place; these are all positive traits, ones that aurora understands tend to come by conscious effort, not naturally, ones she recognises in emma’s inquiry with ease.

“bien sûr, that can be arranged for,” she replies, pausing just to glance at the time on her phone before continuing — “i’d offer a couple now, but i believe it’d be more effective if we took the time to discuss that in depth. how does your schedule look this evening?”

that, and aurora needs the time to cool off and get back to work at some point today, frankly speaking. though she may tend to err on the side of avoidance here and there, the years past have shown her that it pays off more to retreat and recover, than it does to crash and burn just to stand her grand. there is no enemy or threat here, therefore no hard-earned battle to fight or survive; just a social situation she can choose to circle back to with a cooler mind, circumstances withstanding.

"Enchanté, Aurora," it was nice to put a name to the face, "while true an' 'ppreciated, y'can jus' call me Gambit."

Pulling out a chair for himself, he sat down across from her and attempted to get comfortable. Attempt being the operative word; despite his usually collected attitude, he possessed a tension in his shoulders.

“oh,” she arches her eyebrows a little after she reaches for her pen, then seamlessly regains composure after hearing gambit out — and nods, before she proceeds to tie her hair up into a bun, using the pen in question. “that is correct. it’s a position i’ve taken to help out both the students as well as my collègues. you’re more than welcome here, of course — as a matter of fact, i appreciate that you’re here of your own accord. c’est un bon début.”

Would it have been a lie if she had said it? She didn't hover, that was ridiculous.

Of course she did.

Adjusting her position, lacing her fingers and resting them on her knee, Emma collected herself before speaking once more.

"If you assume my concern and mind games forever come hand in hand -- you have me sorely mistaken." Of course, the White Queen was known for her endless mental wars and the surgical precision with which she could dismantle someone's mind, it certainly wasn't often that her good deeds outshone all of that -- if ever at all.

But, beneath it all, beneath the harshness and the sharp edges of her diamond exterior.. EMMA FROST did care. Too much, perhaps. Trying to channel said care into things that were beneficial for others, however, was proving to be.. difficult. Especially with her tendency to hover, as Aurora had put it.

"If you are entirely incapable of such a task, then so be it. As for my particular concerns--" The diamond paused, a wave of quiet irritation washing over her. Voicing her worries wasn't exactly something she enjoyed doing. "--a certain Rogue comes to mind."

"And if you would kindly refrain from dragging my daughters into a conversation they have not been mentioned in, that would be a wise decision."

that’s what they all say; not just those in charge at these mutant organisations, but every person in charge of shaping and molding impressionable, young minds; shadowy, looming figures, who dangerously resemble the teachers she’s had, the scientists she’s been handed over to, the wardens... aurora thinks of none of them, in the face of the woman in front of her: sharp like a diamond, cuts and glints like one, but opaque all the same — and not as rare as you’d be made to think.

“then now is an excellent opportunity,” she says, moreso as an offer than a demand. “to distinguish those, emma. because from where i stand? your concern is coming across remarkably close to hovering. pardon me for not being able to understand what’s on your mind without you saying anything.”

mon dieu. what does capability have anything to do with this? “if she’s so fond of playing carrier pigeon, then you may try your luck with her.”

‘wise decisions’ is a loaded term and funny phrase in equal measure to be used in this room, currently occupied by two women who are historically known for not making those. and if jeanne-marie were to stay true to that reputation, she would’ve doubled down on that presumption of hers, for it’s only less ridiculous if the candidates in emma’s list included any of the cuckoos, the discreet way the white queen is behaving.

instead, however, the speedster’s shoulders loosen.

"Come now, one might begin to ponder avoidance--" Crossing one leg over the other, leaning back in her throne chair, the diamond lifted her chin, taking up an almost lazily regal position. An accusation of avoidance was rich coming from the woman locked away in her office, but admitting to hypocrisy would sting far too much for comfort.

"Call it a stress of importance, if you really must." A drawer beside the blonde opened without anything beyond a simple thought, and an envelope was plucked from a neatly stacked pile. Placing the delicately sealed papers on her desk, Emma used her index finger to push them towards Jeanne-Marie.

"I would like to be informed if any of these candidates arrive at your door. I don't require any unnecessary details or specifics -- just tell me if they show up."

Despite the clean cut exterior the blonde presented, a deep, aching concern coloured her tone a deep shade of blue.

Though, the splash of colour was swiftly erased by another knowing smirk, her eyes glinting beneath the overhead light.

then the luminous speedster slows down at the arrival of the envelop; a ear twitches curiously under her hair, and she does not rush to touch it, let alone open and read it, until the white queen is finished speaking —

and even afterwards, the brunette does not rush. she weighs the other’s words, examines the envelop from a safe distance — is it really just the list of those names? — before she finally picks it up with one gloved hand, debating, before sighing.

“i, in good faith, cannot agree to this request of yours,” sliding the envelop back towards the blonde, aurora finally looks up. “if you’re going to introduce mind games into my work, emma.”

“the counselling is supposed to be the one space free of everything that generally stresses out the most of us here: surveillance, distrust, blind obedience,” she counters, her tone calm yet her vexation unveiled; it’s one thing to mess with aurora personally, but to make the counselling sessions yet another source of stress for the mutants? especially students, if aurora’s guesses about emma’s motives are any correct? “i’m as responsible for the well-being of my clients as you are, and even if your own daughters are on this list — that still does not reassure me about your intentions to hover.”