Moment of Awesome - Emma Frost/The White Queen: Concerned about strangeness impacting the resident psis, Arthur Centino interviews Emma and gets a shameful confession.
Arthur's polite smile broke into an answering grin as Emma spoke. "I have to say, your accent is superb — clothing for our thoughts." He lengthened his own vowels at the end, drawing his voice closer to Emma's own. "You've got more upper crust, there, though? Boardroom aristocracy. Hint of Boston at the edges. Fabulous indeed."
The blond man waved that off, getting back to business. His eyes shone with good humor. "My goal here is to learn what's normal for you before jumping into what might have been different lately. Sounds like you're describing what Haller would call," and he reflexively switched accents again to something closer to Jim's holmesian logic, "standard telepathic projection and manipulation." He put a hand to his chin in thought. "So let's get to it. Has anything been different within the last three months? Flares, expected growth, not coming as easily as normal?"
"Standard telepathic projection and manipulation in the way Cartier makes standard jewellery, yes," replied Emma, smiling. "None of the more exotic flavourings like technopathy or psychometry. As for changes. . . None that I've noticed particularly. I haven't been in the Mansion much, I admit, and from your email it sounds like you think that's where any changes might manifest? I mean," Emma leaned back in her chair, "I did unexpectedly turn into organic diamond during a spectacularly traumatic event, so I'm willing to consider more deeply if you have parameters to work within?"
He nodded over his notes, but extended a hand. "Psychometry here," and he gave his fingers a wiggle, "I just discovered I had it last year, but it's a good example — I've been putting my own memories onto objects without knowing it. There are at least ten others experiencing power issues — just the psis — but the common part does seem to be being at or around the Mansion." Arthur tried to give an honest smile. "There's no clear through-line or objective yet. When's the last time you were at the Mansion?"
Emma shrugged. “I’ve flitted in and out; a few hours here or there over the last few weeks.” She frowned suddenly, tapped a diamond fingernail on the desk. “When you’re talking differences in powers. . . would you be talking about a shift in my telepathy? Or is there any suggestion of suddenly using an. . . associated power.” She shook her head slightly and sighed. “Let me be terribly blunt about the whole thing; is there a possibility I could be suffering from telekinesis?”
This got his interest. Arthur raised both eyebrows and leaned in just a little. "Please, tell me more about 'suffering from telekinesis.' I've never had to worry about it."
Emma made a moue. “It’s so. . . tacky,” she sighed. “All these telepaths going round and developing telekinesis. Like lifting things with your mind isn’t just turning your brain into a brute force machine. Telekinesis isn’t elegant, Arthur.” She sighed again, this one deep and positively heart-rending. “I assumed one of the others was pranking me.”
"If it helps," he offered with an extended hand, not close enough to touch, "Everyone else is likely too preoccupied to have noticed. TK does seem," and there was the slow consideration of carefully chosen words here, "common paired with telepathy. Are we talking big things," and the man spread his arms to helpfully mime lifting a heavy object, "or smaller?" His gesture tightened, as if he was trying to indicate the shape of a racketball.
“Pieces of paper,” replied Emma. “Small items falling over behind me, that kind of thing. The kind of thing that might be a sudden unexpected gust of wind, or dust, or a sudden unexpected burst of TK, all of which are available to residents here. Ugh,” said Emma, somehow managing to make the word sound impossibly elegant. “Adrienne once told me she saw a few of my bedside trinkets floating beside me when she came in to wake me up. The thing is, Mr Centino,” said Emma, almost but not quite accusatory, “I absolutely refuse to be telekinetic. My mind is a scalpel, not a bulldozer. If I need to lift heavy objects, I have my own methods.” And for a moment, her skin rippled into diamond form and then back again.
