Summary:Gala celebration of the new Horizon Academy assaulted by parties unknown - mercs and cyberdogs and android, oh my! Part 1 of 2. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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The weather is gorgeous this fine Sunday in the Big Apple, seventy-six and sunny, a light breeze, few clouds in the sky - it is almost as if Mother Nature herself wanted to make it a perfect day to open up a new and revolutionary school. The grounds have been carefuly prepped, security visible but not oppressively so. Those that arrive are guided to the Student Center, a logical first stop from the parking lot.
The concourse has been lavishly decorated with festive hangings and several tables setup for people to sit and there's numerous tables setup with food and drink suitable for all ages.
Celerity Carter takes deep breaths as she walks onto the grounds. She looks like she's dressed more for a job interview than a gala: a plain white button shirt, a black necktie, and a knee-length skirt. Truth be told, her 'job interview' clothes are the nicest she owns, so she didn't have much alternative. She fiddles with her tie as she follows the signs and enters the student centre, glancing about like a deer in headlights. What does she do at a gala? Isn't that a kind of cockatoo?
Alternating back and forth with her adopted sister, Catseye, Priscilla is sometimes hovering close to Emma Grace Frost, hostess of this event, headmistress of the school, and founder of the business consortium that has made this place a possibility, and strolling comfortably around the gathering of notables and others who happen to have come to attend the event. At least one of Emma's daughters is always near at hand, but neither is tied to that position.
Priscilla's own style has been only mildly 'tamed' for today's event, her dress quite striking and a bit risque for a charity gala without being outright salacious. Far more risque frocks have made the rounds at entertainment industry-sponsored events and galas, but probably not at a posh school opening. Such a woman of color is a rare-ish sight, especially as she is most definitely not part of the catering staff. But Priscilla is a giftedly social woman, warmly welcoming almost anyone from any walk of life and finding ways to get to know them, and ease their discomforts where she finds them. Like young women feeling terribly out of place at such an event.
It is just that which brings Pris over towards Celerity after a while. "Hi there. Welcome to Horizon Academy. I am Priscilla. I hope you're enjoying the event? The food tables are right over here." Pris guides, almost as if she knows Celerity is ever-hungry. Of course, they have met before, but Pris is trying not to bring up 'hi, I'm the stripper' where lots of other ears may overhear.
As much as Peter Parker would enjoy coming to a gala as one of the guests, he's here to work - and he's not trying to hide it, although if security takes exception to his snapping so many photos, he'll dial it back, or hold off where asked to. If they don't want photos of the dorms or laboratories loose in the press, it's an understandable restriction.
But he *is* wearing a press pass, identifying him as a freelance photographer. He's also wearing a suit, not lavishly expensive but presentable enough to wear, say, to the symphony or to a Broadway show. Black jacket and slacks, navy blue necktie with some restrained red pinstriping, white dress shirt that's been neatly pressed, and shoes which look good while still standing up to a lot of walking.
He still feels a little out of place, but Peter keeps reminding himself that he has a job to do, and he's here to do it … not to mention the chance, *hopefully* minuscule, that something might necessitate his other suit. He'd rather keep his blazer on and his shutter clicking, though, if it's all the same to the world at large.
He's keeping an eye out for celebrities, too, of course. There are some Big Names associated with the Academy, and he wants to catch some of them during the gala proper - whether that means inside, at the reception proper, or outside, during a guided tour. Getting photos from both would be optimal.
Sharon Frost is elegantly dressed in a gown that starts nearly white at the top, shading through lavender, purple, to a purple that is nearly black at the hem. The skirts are full enough to conceal her tail, and lavender-lensed John Lennon style glasses conceal her cat-pupiled eyes. The one detail that might not fit the polished socialite garb is a tiny ear-wire tying her in with the security team on duty. For alas, while Catseye might prefer to spend the gala eating salmon pate and shrimp, Emma's other adopted daughter is having to do double-duty, socializing with the guests and liaising with security.
Jesana's long shiny hair trails down her back in a shimmering obsidian wave. The simple white cotton dress, a halter styled top and layered skirts offsets her tanned skinned and highlights her Native American features nicely. White sandals cover her feet and the only jewelry she wears aside from some silver and turqoise bracelets is a simple amber pendant attached to a leather string around her neck. She looks like she could be a fashion model or and actress, not the bounty hunter/private eye/occasional assassin that she is. Nope, she just looks like an ordinary mortal checking out the school and actually, that is what she is doing.
The people who refuse to leave the disaster zone that she's been guarding, protecting, and teaching have asked her to take a good look at the place and make sure it's legit. She'd been sure it was with the names attached but these people no longer trust easily if ever they did so here she is! Idly sipping a glass full of the strongest drink she could find, augmented by a hidden flask at her hip when no one was looking. There are certainly a lot of interesting people to watch as she sips!
After a bit of mingling, one daughter or the other oft at her side, Emma Frost, billionaire CEO of Frost International steps up on the stage setup in the main concourse of the Student Center. "Welcome everyone, to the Horizon Academy!" With no podium or mic visible - never the less her words are carried by an efective audio system to everyone's ears. She stands with complete poise and assurance, hands clasped before her. Her clothing is as to be expected elegant and costly, but it seems she's taken some effort to dress more modestly than is her wont. "I hope that you'll enjoy the tour of the school, please take a moment to enjoy refreshments, and there are a great many pamphlets and informational booklets present for everyone's consumption."
Emma looks around the room, for once her usually icy mien warm, actually inviting, she fairly glows with her excitement at the prospect of the opening. Though well known for being an ice queen, Emma is clearly deeply passionate about this, about the school, and it it shows.
"Thanks to generous assistance from my dear friends, Mari McCabe at McCabe Industries and Prince T'Challa of Wakanda, this school has gone from dream to reality in record time."
An almost literally radiant smile blossoms. "In any case, before we get going I would like to open the floor to any questions."
Press are are definitely present, and welcomed, though there are a few restricted areas that are clearly marked. Such a school as this does have to be a bit more mindful of such then a more mundane school.
Celerity suddenly releases a breath she hadn't realised she was holding, giving Priscilla a smile as she approaches. She manages not to actually, actively blur towards the other woman, but she does swoop in and give her a hug. "Priscilla! Good to see a friendly face. This place is… kind of… wow." She says it in an overwhelmed tone. What's a woman like her even doing there?
Speaking of friendly faces, though, she blinks at the sight of a certain photographer. "Wait… Peter?" She draws off the hug, though with one hand still on Priscilla. She lifts a hand to him. "Is that Peter Parker?" It's been a long time since she's seen her former high-school classmate.
Soon after, the Headmistress comes to the stage. Celerity tenses, leaning more into Priscilla. There's a request for questions, and Celerity's lips purse. A moment later, she holds up a hand. "Hello, um, Headmistress Frost?" That's not a voice that Emma finds familiar… though the mental signature could be. "The school's mission mentions inclusivity, regardless of 'personal wealth'. Is that because of scholarships, or some kind of tuition loans, or…?" While it's tempting to change schools, she sees no way she could pay for a place like this.
Various locations around the student center and around the campus also have smart walls playing various shorter or longer (hopefully) helpful and informative, inspiring videos about the school and the facilities, all in an effort to keep everyone informed at his-, her- or their-own pace. The smart walls all have default videos playing based on their location and intended subject matter, but can also respond to questions, pulling up additional material when asked. Otherwise, poor Emma would be run ragged with the potential number of questions from such an open event's populace.
Priscilla welcomes Celerity's eager hug and returns it warmly, happy to help put the other woman at ease. She knows how intimidating this kind of setting can be - she can feel it in Celerity and others - and her natural urge is to help ease that tension and support. "It is kind of 'Wow'. you're right. Emma has done amazingly, with help from her friends." And her family, just not the one of her blood.
Not knowing Peter Parker, Pris cannot answer Celerity's question, but she stays close, supporting as she turns to smile at her adopted mother, standing before them all and proudly declaring her project. She's also happy to hear Celerity work up the gumption to ask her question, as it is one she is sure many here are wondering, even if they are themselves too nervous to ask aloud. For her own part, Priscilla is just glad to be close by, as she can then key the tiny mic hidden on her outfit to pick up Celerity's words and project them to the sound system, so the question can be heard as clearly as the answer will be.
Its a markedly rare occurrence, but Kwabena Odame is wearing a suit.
Cleaerly of African descent, the tall man's bald head and angular features are marked by skin darker than most African Americans, but eyes that bear silver irises further set up apart as one of those who are likely 'different' in some fashion. The suit he wears is far from spectacular to untrained eyes, but those who are in the know may recognize Armani when they see it. A faded, cream colored jacket rests over a dark burgundy shirt, sans tie: the trousers match the jacket and rest comfortably above a pair of darkened shoes.
There are no markings to symbolize why he is here, but given that it can be difficult to determine his age, one cannot rule out that Kwabena isn't here out of curiosity. Behind that wall, there is no hiding why he is in attendance. He is an agent of SHIELD, and SHIELD is interested in assuring that nothing out of place happens during this event. The agency does not have an opinion on Miss Frost's security, after all. They have eyes everywhere, and today, those eyes are Odame's.
There's one of the three, at least. Peter takes a few photos of Emma Frost as she's giving her introductor remarks; her daughters are included in photos only by proximity - Emma herself is very much the focus, and Peter would rather get her face as she's speaking, rather than glamour shots of her body. Let the 'rag' photographers drool over her figure for their readers; Peter's focus is on shots that will complement the news, not distract from it.
The rest of the Student Center's main concourse gets some attention as well, before and after Ms. Frost's remarks - and Peter is weighing what questions he might ask in the wake of that invitation. He glances away from his viewfinder from time to time, and one such moment is timed to intercept Celerity's wave, which he spares a moment to return with a grin. Back to work right after, but he's keeping her presence in mind - it *is* nice to see familiar faces, even at events like this. Sometimes, especially so.
Sharon circulates through the crowd, moving back and forth from Emma, at least until Emma moves to the front to address the crowd, then the lavender haired lass moves to the back of the crowd, taking up one of several spots selected ahead of time for their clear surveillance of the crowd, checking in to make sure the rest of security is in their positions. While Emma speaks, Sharon concentrates on breathing slowly, evenly, the better to sort through scents in the crowd for trouble.
The question draws Jesana's attention from the Silver-Irised man she's marked as dangerous but likely security of some sort. She'd winced a bit at Mari and T'Challa's names, thinking of her most recent misadventure. Godsdamned nazis and her father! At least no one here is likely to know about that!
She waits to find out what options the poorer folk will have here since the group she's come to think of as *her* people are that and then some. Without the aid of others so many of them would have been lost to disease and poor sanitation and starvation already. She understands well their desire to cling to their home however and has been helping as much as possible, even forgoing her usual habits and lifestyle for the time being. Hell, the money she's saved from not buying booze alone fed her group for a month. She might just have a slight drinking problem.
Eyes of sapphire shift to the girl beside her daughter, and then Emma nods. "Absolutely, Miss…?" When answered she continues. "…Carter, there are a considerable array of options for anyone who wants to study here. Tuition assistance, work study, alternative scheduling for after work, grants, financial programs, and scholarships." Emma's hands open wide to either side. "Inclusiviity is the mission here." A bright smile again as they are clasped once more. "We /want/ people to learn, to have the opportunity to explore their dreams, to realize them, to become their very best selves."
Mental senses are acute, she is not probing - she is however doing a very light scan seeking any signs of danger or hostility. Emma is VERY much hoping for the best but prepared for the worst. Softly, a thought is sent to both Priscilla and Sharon. «Friend of yours, Pris? Any signs of danger?»
Celerity nods her head, thoughtful. She realises she's been kind of hanging off Priscilla, and so lightly disengages. "I see. I'll, uh, look through the pamphlets too." That'll have more information about these schemes.
« Yes. Good girl. » Priscilla answers. She looks warmly down at Celerity, and then her purple gaze sweeps the room one more time. « Some who are unhappy, wanting to yell slurs. Others uncomfortable, concerned at the financial resources you have mobilized here and what that may mean for them. Plenty capable of doing harm, but none intent upon it. » the mocha-skinned dancer (and secret alien-hunting ninja) answers at Emma's request. « We're keeping an eye, ear and nose out, Mother. »
that said, Priscilla gives Celerity another brief hug, and guides her towards the food tables. "C'mon. Don't starve yourself. Trust me, you'll get all the answers you need to your questions. I promise." A promise she can meet, given her connection to Emma. "How have you been?" she asks, while watching Celerity get some food. Eventually Pris will get some herself, assembling a plate with salmon pate on crackers, a few pieces of nigiri, and some shrimp. She'll make a 'brush pass' to Sharon shortly; it's cruel to have all of this delicious fish and not let Catseye have some.
These kind of assignments can be mind numbing; Kwabena has to remind himself to remain vigilant. There is, however, the convenient distraction of food and beverage; he makes toward the assortments, smiling pleasantly to those who seem to acknowledge him. His eyes linger briefly upon Jesana; when they do, a glimmer seems to pass across his face, a slight up turn of his lips. I see you, would be the universal spy language there.
"Pardon," he says quietly to a patron who nearly runs into him, a heavily accented voice paired with an polite smile. That smile fades when he sees champagne; sure sign of a later headache. Then, he sees it - the young woman serving proper drinks. "Excuse me, yes?" he asks. "Dat is vodka? Yes, I will have one."
The young woman gives Kwabena a look. "Just vodka? No mixer or any-"
"Just vodka, da." A pause. "Yes. Please."
As Peter continues circulating, he winds up face to face for a moment with Catseye, and inclines his head politely - pointedly not 'checking her out,' or at least trying not to; that would be rude. "Ma'am. I saw you standing up front a moment ago; might I ask your name and take your photo?" He shows his press credentials, which should help affirm it's on the up-and-up. Just in case the camera in his hands isn't enough.
Sharon notes a few odd smells, but none that meet her definition of action-worthy. Her family has a much more flexible definition of acceptable than most after all. That is part of the reason for this school. When Priscilla passes off the nigiri, Sharon gives her a look of absolute gratitude and almost inhales the fish. Alas, she is not here to eat and society gowns do not forgive an -inch-. Thankfully she has a proper meal planned for after this is all over.
Peter's polite approach earns him a warm smile, "Yes, Sharon Frost. And yes, a photograph is fine." She discretely slips the earwig out, palming it out of sight for the photograph. Emma adopted Sharon back in December, and the young woman has been at Emma's side at the occasional social function, but isn't much in the press. Her accent is odd… her pronunciation is flawless, but her word choice is sometimes slightly off. She seems to have difficulty with or avoids pronouns in favor of proper nouns. "Noticed that unlike some reporters who have been escorted off-site, have not tried to pry into the labs or dorms. Thank you. There will be a tour of empty dorm rooms later, if would like to attend?"
When Kwabena's eyes pass over Jesa she winks at him before turning her attention to the nearest food table and blinking. She doesn't know what half the stuff even is though she can sniff out the individual ingredients. Most of it looks and smells pretty good and it's been a long time since the MRE's she had for breakfast. None of which smelled, tasted or looked appealing. She tries a little of everything, though she's subtle about it. No need to look like a pig or starving Indian in front of all the fancy peoples.
She would be bored out of her mind really but part of it is taking notes for the people she looks after and the rest is devoted to a game of guessing who or what the individual people are. Human/Mutant/Magic/Supe/Other?? Student/Staff/Security/Press/Trouble?? There is a lot more in that "Other" category than she'dve expected and that is interesting. That gorgeous woman with the dancer's legs for one. She's never scented anything like her.
Or that fellow taking all the pictures. She's having a lot more fun than she'd figured on. Jesana blinks a bit as she watches the reporter interact with the woman. What kinda dipshit tries to break into dorms and labs at a school, let alone during a major event? Who the hell cares what a bedroom looks like anyway. Or a lab for that matter. Clearly not her. She goes back to looking around the room.
Mentally to Pris and Sharon. «She is, we've met, though she did not know it - in her guise as Anon, the Speedster.» Ooh, Emma's well informed! Not a big shocker though. «I did not know her actual name, however.» A smile to said speedster. "Of course, if you'd like to speak further there are advisors to help with that. I am also more than happy to provide you any answers you might need, Miss Carter."
Seeing that Pris has taken Celerity (literally!) in hand, she continues her Q&A when another person in the audience speaks up. "Jackson Daniels, Miss Frost…so….this school of yours is going to offer training for metahumans?"
A nod to the man. "We will, yes, Mister Daniels. We're very proud of our Powers Center, the main reception will be held there, including dinner and music. The facility is designed to cope with virtually any sort of powers, and reinforced to withstand any conceivable mishap." He nods once. "And does this relate to your prior school, the Hellfire Academy, are you planning to churn out more superpowered terrorists?" Yeah, the guy's more than a little bitter. Not /quite/ a threat, but teetering. Emma's smile cools noticeably. "No, Mister Daniels, there is no plan to train anyone to be a terrorist. Quite the opposite, the fact is that many who have gifts, be they mutant, mutate, or visitor from somewhere else are untaught and have to learn - often painfully - to use extraordinarily dangerous abilities. This school is available to help with that, to give them a safe place to learn to use what they can do in an ethical and supportive environment." Her eyes glitter. "There is no doubt mistakes have been made in the past, but those mistakes will /not/ be repeated here."
The man looks unmollified, but…doesn't press things, noting he's got the full attention of a guard, or two.
Teped to Catseye. «I believe he might be a super, caught a stray thought of his 'other suit' and a sense of his willingness to defend the academy.»
Celerity blushes at the warm look from Priscilla, even though she's not privy to the thoughts being shared. The warmth on her cheeks makes a nice complement to both her coppery hair and her plain-red lipstick. Then she's being ushered towards the tables. "H-Hey, I'm fine, I already—" She ducks her head and obediently picks up a few things to snack on. She did already eat, not wanting to come off as a 'freeloader' at the event. That also brings her close by to Kwabena, and she gives the man a nod and polite smile. No alcohol for her, though, whether champagne or vodka; she's too young for it. As Jesana approaches the table, Celerity lifts her free hand in greeting. "H-Hi. Some school, huh." She keeps an ear on the proceedings, however — to the point of rolling her eyes when someone outright asks if the academy is going to train terrorists.
Priscilla might have chuckled in wry amusement at Emma's observations about Celerity. "I'll be back." she murmurs to Celerity. "Come find me if you need anything." That said, she slips back into the crowd; 'blending in' is really not much of an option for her, but she is at least mingling. If that means she gentle pushes empathically to dissuade someone from getting troublesome, she feels this is a legitimate act , keeping the peace for all concerned. If Daniels wants to see superhuman terrorists? He's clearly not paying enough attention.
Eventually Priscilla ends up beside Emma, allowing Catseye to wander further afield while assuring - as always - that one of Emma's daughters is always close at hand.
"Excuse me, Ms. Frost." An older African American woman speaks up from the periphary of the crowd. With Pris and Catseye too far away, another staffer quickly drifts in her direction, keying their microphone so that her question can be heard clearly. "Thank you, young man." she offers, nodding to the staffer.
Then the older black woman looks back towards Emma on-stage. "Your new school has reclaimed a large swath - not a majority, but a good chunk still - of the so-called Disaster Zone. That area has lacked essential services for quite some time: police, fire, medical, public transportation, groceries, water, power and more. How is it that you were able to secure permission and permits to construct here? And what efforts do you intend towards restoring those essential services to the area?" Unspoken is the clear mention that schools usually have thriving communities just outside their campuses, yet the Horizon Academy currently has a No Man's Land of blight and devastation.
Kwabena sips on the vodka, rather than shooting it; hard drinking on the job never mixes well, he's learned. He begins moving away from the area, and his trajectory is bringing him closer to Jesana; however, before he can intercept her, the words of an aggressive inquisition draws his attention toward Jackson Daniels and Emma Frost.
The overall aire of politeness also cools from Kwabena's face. His oddly colored eyes stare daggers at Daniels, tempering only a bit when they turn to engage Emma as he responds.
It just so happens then that he's nearby to Jesana. That totally wasn't intentional, no, not at all. He gestures with his free hand toward Celerity, an acknowledgement of her politeness that brings a touch of a smile back to his otherwise stone expression.
"Dey will not let her live down mistakes of past easily," he remarks, before turning his attention upon Jesana with slightly raised eyebrows. "Will dey?"
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Frost," Peter says to Sharon, offering a handshake to her. Then he steps back and takes the photo, a full-length portrait by preference. "And I'd be happy to join in the tour; just let me know beforehand if photography is permitted or not?"
His ears perk up a bit when Jackson Daniels throws his question out. Or rather, questions. Or maybe even more specifically, a question and a borderline accusation. Peter grimaces a little in the wake of it, shaking his head - more to himself than to anyone else.
The Hellfire Academy … Emma Frost probably expected at least one sharply pointed inquiry regarding it, thinks Peter, and it's probably just as well to have it out in the open up front. It was still rude on Mr. Daniels's part to put it *that* bluntly - but Emma's reply was spot-on, from what Peter heard. Acknowledging the past and stating, in sight and view of the public, her disinclination to reprise it.
Good enough for him. He continues circulating, taking pictures where he can do so without imposing or intruding, and eventually circulating towards the refreshment tables.
Sharon nods to Parker, then at the mention of the Academy, moves up to the front, and after sharing a glance with Emma turns and addresses the crowd, "As a former student at the Hellfire Academy, metahuman only schools have an appeal, especially to those who have been alienated or traumatized. But they do not prepare their students for the real world, a world where interaction with all types of people is necessary. Some schools limit themselves even further, to a particular flavor of metahuman. As if what caused the difference was the most important factor. The Horizon Academy will take students regardless of 'differences' or lack thereof, the emphasis is on a willingness to learn and coexist and to learn HOW to coexist hands on."
When the woman raises the question about infrastructure, Sharon takes a half step back to allow Emma to address it. Her blunt answer that they were willing to throw money at the problem when the politicians wanted to pocket it instead is not…. tactful so she bites the inside of her cheek and lets Emma do the graceful gloss over the bureaucratic snafu that is NYC.
Jesana's eyes had gone to the aggressive spreaker and narrowed as they continued to talk. She's considering some sort of tongue tying curse or such when Kwabena speaks. Perhaps no curses then. She thinks for a moment as she looks at the Silver-eyed man. "The past doesn't matter, it's the now, and the future that one must look towards. Otherwise you are stuck, standing still." Her voice raises, without the aid of a mic or any other tech.
"Much is being done elsewhere in this parts, the school is a beginning, a place to start but reclamation has begun. If it goes slower in some areas than others, that is because politicians slow things down or stand in the way of what needs done. There are many people working to help those in the disaster zone, working without pay or thanks or expectation of anything in return, simply because it is the right thing to do." Jesana stares at the older African woman pointedly. She doesn't ask what she has done to help, she doesn't need to with that stare.
When Catseye speaks, she rests a supportive hand on the girl's shoulder. "As my daughter has said, EXCLUSION is a mistake." A squeeze, and then as Cat steps back, she smiles. "Thank you, Sharon."
Addressed by another speaker, Emma answers. "An excellent question, Miss..?" Emma asks of the black woman, and she replies. "Mrs. Speakman, Miss Frost." Emma nods. "Mrs. Speakman, of course. First of all I have purchased the land, and much of the surrounding property. Unfortunately there are limits to how much of the surrounding infrastructure and public transit could be fixed in the time allotted. Still, there is work being done in Mutant Town, and other areas to deal with just those concerns. I have very deep pockets, as do my friends who helped build this place, but they are not bottomless." The woman's question has restored much of Emma's glow, though more than one security guard are keeping an eye on the guy…including the silver-eyed gentleman from SHIELD, a fractional nod offered him before she continues answering Mrs. Speakman's questions. "Work is being done to also restore the rapid transit system, the subway trains in particular, and on the roads. Alas, this is not a swift process." A smile. "Plans are already in motion to rebuild the area surrounding the school, to provide off campus housing and to /create/ the thriving you community you spoke of, Mrs. Speakman. A community the school very much wants to be a part of."
Jackson Daniels for those who are watching, shakes his head in disgust and starts for the exit. "Bullshit." Still, no weapons, no body armor - no reason to act, being an asshole is not a crime.
She's a little surprised at the Amerindian girl speaking up, but that draws a nod to her as well.
Celerity nods to Priscilla, giving her a small smile. "I will. Though I'll try not to bug you too much. There's reading to do first, right?" Speaking of which, she ducks briefly away from the refreshment table to get a few pamphlets, stuffing most of them into her blouse's chest pocket for ease of later retrieval. She nods glumly to Kwabena. "It's like… she's not just trying to put the past behind her. From what I can see, she's trying to make amends for it, you know? With a place like this. You know, if it all stays as on-mission as she's saying." She chews her tongue while listening to Sharon. Not the segregation of a metas-only school, but… integration. She drums her fingers over her plate, several layers of Something on her mind. The telepaths in the room might catch parts of that, her thinking about her seemingly-normal brother. She eyes Jackson while he's on his way out, but if he's not going to get actually aggressive, there's no need to intervene.
Priscilla pays close attention to Daniels as he is departing, though not with her eyes. She is ostensibly watching everything and everyone around her, but her mental focus is almost entirely on Daniels. She tenses a bit as he reaches the door to exit the student center space where everyone is currently gathered; to those like Jesana and Kawbaena, as well as to her sister, this is a telltale that bespeaks someone almost, if not quite, on the edge of violence.
But Pris does not act. Oh, how she wants to. But they discussed these kinds of problems in preparation for today, and she knows Emma does not want her simply erasing people who disagree with her or are too clogged with fear to get past their prejudices, until or unless they become an active threat.
So Daniels lives a little while longer.
Instead Pris turns towards the Amerindian woman and nods slightly, acknowledging her point.
Mrs. Speakman nods to Jesana, and to Emma as both respond to her words. "Thank you." she calls out respectfully, appreciating the answers even if they lack all of the details she might like.
"Dis is so very true," Kwabena tells Jesana. There is an undertone to his voice, one that suggests he might have personal stake in such a concept. One would have no clue just how deeply he's familiar with such concepts, unless asked. He looks on as Jesana's voice simply rises in volume, considering the words, while also considering what seems to be a display of some special ability. Most interesting.
Kwabena's attention shifts easily to Celerity, and he smiles amicably. "Is, ah…" He seems to be searching for the right words. "… foolish to say, will always stay 'on mission'. A person can only do so much things, yes? Cannot hold one person responsible for oddah person's mistakes. I hope you undahstand what I mean?" English does not seem to be his primary language, as it is.
"Apology. I am being so rude." He looks between Celerity and Jesana. "I am Kwabena Odame, of SHIELD." He glances toward Jackson as he makes way for the exit, and his polite expression seems to sour. "Just… keeping eye on some things."
He's not so much worried about Jackson doing something untoward, as he is about someone else doing something untoward to Jackson.
Ah, infrastructure. Can't have a school without power and running water - and Internet, in this day and age. Sure, wireless broadband is purportedly a thing, and the three main backers could probably afford to run a trunk line out to service the Academy's campus, but it takes a little more than *just* money to provide those utilities.
So Peter turns away for the moment from the guard he was about to photograph, and angles for a view of both the questioner and Miss Frost herself. This requires taking the photo through a cluster of other people, but Peter clicks the shutter all the same: the better to show that this is part of a conference of sorts, not just isolated questions and answers.
Hmm. There's one other thing that's picking at his mind - not a spider-sense tingle (so far), but more a photographer-sense, or maybe the vestige of a journalist-sense that helps him decide what photos might go well with an article. He shouldn't go so far as to make *himself* part of the news …
He bides his time for now. Maybe somebody else will ask; his own question isn't exactly feature-worthy, and the course of the day will likely answer it in any case.
Sharon leaves the platform as Emma talks. She really doesn't like talking in public, and she can't vent her full fury at the cluster fuck that certain schools and school rivalries represented… This school is a new start, and both Emma and Sharon are fiercely protective of it. Sharon knows she needs more exposure to working with so called normal people, something she lacks. She wants the next generation to have more than she did, something Emma feels keenly as well. Slipping back into the crowd, she returns to circulating, now attracting a bit more attention now that more guests are recognizing her. But really, six feet tall, lavender hair, is it that hard?
Dark eyes study the man named Jackson Daniels as he exits. Jesana has a lot on her plate at the moment or she'd happily teach the little bastard a lesson in manners. For now, she'll remember him and if the chance arises… She smiles at Pris, scenting the urge to do violence and understanding the impulse. Now is not the time however and her lesson is a lot less likely to end in murder when it comes to human assholes. Though they might end up *wishing* they were dead.
It's a good thing Jesa doesn't know Kwabena is SHIELD. She's so lucky they didn't attempt to lock her up after her compulsion. She is still so enraged by that. Not just what she did but that she was compelled. It is usually absolutely impossible to make her do anything she doesn't want. She's a living manifestation of free will among other things. What's done is done though and she will work to fix it and insure it doesn't happen again.
And then Kwabena introduces himself and somewhere she hears her Father laughing. Still she's got a fucking awesome poker face and just nods and smiles. "I'm Jesana. Pleasure to meet you." With her luck he's gonna know who she is and exactly what it was she was compelled to do. Ah well, Mari and T'Challa didn't *quite* hold it against her so long as she fixes it. Perhaps this interesting fellow won't either. Maybe her luck with change and he won't even know about that nazi clusterfuck. "This school is pretty great." Jesa comments. "Me, I've never been a day in my life. At least not so as I remember it. It's gonna do a lot of people a whole lot of good though."
There are a few more questions posed, some friendly, some not so much, overall though things are pretty cordial. Emma is a very skilled speaker, and manages to keep her calm in the face of some fairly pointed questions about her past, especially the Hellfire Academy and one person even mentioning her time as a dancer at the Hellfire Club.
Eventually the Q&A finishes up and Emma smiles. "Well, now onto the tour, and hopefully everyone will enjoy dinner inside the Power Center."
Moments before, when Daniels exited the building (no, no relation to Elvis!), he took out a cigar and nipped the end off, before lighting it up and blowing out precisely three rings. Task done he shoves hands in pockets and heads for the parking structure.
It is at that exact moment that Spidersenses start to tingling.
Miles away, in an underground lair, a bloated hand flips a switch, rasping voice transmuted to various forces over their comms network. "Go."
On the grounds to the campus four points of intolerable brightness form - expanding to crimson spheres three meters in diameter that eat into the ground. One of them in each quad of the grounds. Alarms shriek in the security center, and the Academy guards prepare for an attack. Out of the holes spew quite a few heavily armed individuals, many of them in functional though mis-matched armor, some of them cyborgs, and from the hole closest to the student dorms? A group of cybernetically enhanced hound like creatures the size of a compact car! A full half dozen of the brutes, and troops following after them.
Celerity's instinct with Daniels isn't to 'teach him a lesson'; it's to keep alert, in case he does something that needs to be prevented, something that other people need to be protected from. If he's just going to leave — albeit, in a huff rather than entirely peacefully — then she'll leave him alone. Her eyebrows lift when the man introduces himself as being from SHIELD, but… well, this academy is bound to attract that. It doesn't mean he suspects her of anything. "I'm Celerity." That's all she has as an introduction, no special connections or epithets here. She doesn't see anything past Jesana's poker face, just nodding to her. "Mm. I'll have to read more about if it transfers credit before I do anything about it." She taps the brochures in her chest pocket. She's not going to let her time at NYU go to waste.
Then it's time for the dinner. Celerity leaves the building… and then has to shield her eyes from the glare of those spheres. Her eyes go wide. Oh, that is not good. "G-Gotta go." She turns and runs for cover, seeking anything with a bit of privacy. And trying to keep her sprint to normal human speed.
That name. It rings a bell. Kwabena studies Jesana for a moment, but he doesn't want to appear as rude. Colleagues have told him that sometimes, well… he has a way with people that doesn't come off as very nice. Totally unintentional, but it's a thing.
"Is okay, dere is nothing to worry about," he assures both Celerity and Jesana. "I am only here as, what is de word, precaution? Excuse me." He smiles at the two and excuses himself, following the crowds as they move along.
Seems he's gonna have to take back what he told the women. There is, in fact, something to worry about.
Kwabena is not far from Miss Frost herself when the proverbial shit hits the fan. A hand rises to his left ear without missing a beat. "Agent Odame, Code Red." SHIELD is immediately alerted to his location; an attack is imminent.
Sadly, the Armani suit is about to see a bitter end. The clothing drops to the ground in an inglorious heap, when the SHIELD agent transforms into a gaseous cloud of thick, black smoke. It bursts through the crowds of people, closing in upon Emma with no ill intent; the cloud reforms mere feet from the woman, Kwabena now clad in some kind of high tech, gunmetal gray nanotech that leaves nothing to the imagination, only his head is exposed.
"Shift," he tells Emma, using his code name. "SHIELD." He nods to her briefly, but rather than jumping into combat, he turns his eyes to look out warily, taking stock of everything he can see. "What is game plan, here, and where do you need me?"
Sharon is officially on the security staff as a 'consultant' and has trained with them. When the alert goes out, the guard nearest to her pairs off with Sharon, and the two get out of the main area, off to the side but not really worrying about being out of sight of everyone as Sharon… strips. The guard takes her gown, jewelry and shoes, cramming them into a mesh bag with disregard for their condition and makes adjustments to the earwig that Sharon handed him. Left in what looks like a black armored bathing suit of all things, Sharon stretches and shifts, lavender fur flowing over skin, costume shifting and vanishing as the woman is replaced by a large lavender lioness. The security guard bends over and puts the earwig into one of her ears, which she twitches to make sure it won't be dislodged.
"Catseye to Security Two. Have Eyes on Emma. Security primary focus is guarding students, second is guarding labs. Catseye will take counter-strike. Guests may aid, assume guests friendly until proven otherwise."
Jesana had followed along with the others, enticed by the thought of more food. Just before the light spheres form Jesana's instincts warn her to cover her eyes. She's long and long since learned to follow her instincts and so she isn't blinded momentarily. She is.. surprised however by what she sees when she uncovers them. She quickly moves to place herself near the woman named Emma and the SHIELD agent. "What in the actual fuck." She states. "It's a school for God's sake. Have you people no shame?" Which would be a funny question if anyone here knew her for she has no shame herself. It is a foreign emotion to one such as her.
Who would willingly attach metal and tech to themselves? It's *So* unnatural. She's never really understood that. Okay maybe if you are missing a limb and can't grow it back but.. and those hounds. Oh dear Creator and God both. Who would do that to an animal? And they sent them here. Dark eyes change, irises fading into pupils and stars sparkling in the black orbs as her rage awakens the chaos within her.
It does not matter that she didn't come armed. Her body is a weapon, in this form or the other. "Do they not see the irony?" She asks no one in particular. "They become worse than the thing they fear." Turning themselves into monsters intent on slaughtering the innocent, far worse than those with no choice of how or what they were born or made into.
As Kwabena transforms she blinks and says "What the fuck." Again but hey she turns into a rather large coyote and there are stars in her eyes at the moment so what the hell. She'll roll with it. When he reforms she manages a chuckle. "Damn. Kinda was hopin' you'd be starkers." He has a good question actually. "Yeah, do I kill these guys or?" Disable them? She really wants to kill them. People need to feel safe coming here and protected and these twats are fucking that all up.
As alarms sound, as men and women scream, as hounds and warriors howl in glee … the air outside explodes. Sharp hammerblows flay the air, as huge rounds rip and tear through the vanguard of those charging towards the reception full of people. Each shot seems to have devastating effect, like tiny meteors called down from heaven in furious vengeance.
And then a deep, growling voice comes across the security team's communications network. "Pride comes."
High above, another softer explosion sounds, as a flare lights the sky, strobing even against mid-afternoon sky.
The Security teams respond. «Security Two, acknowledge Catseye, deploying forces to students, SEC-3, go to evac plan, SEC-4 through 7, engage and delay to provide cover for 3. Confirm.» There are a series of confirmation as the security teams get to work on their evacuation of the students and other non-combatants to the Powers Center.
Emma blinks at the sudden violence, then her eyes /blaze/ with fury and her hair for a moment reacts as if static charged. "Hello Agent Odame, I'm grateful that SHIELD saw fit to place you here." A nod. "I think we should focus on the cyborgs that are coming through the window, please."
And true enough two cyborgs rupture through the windows, and mini-guns whirl into furious uproar as they focus all their fire one Emma Grace Frost. Or they try to - Emma raises a hand, and her eyes almost spark as their limbs aim upwards, fire spraying the ceiling instead. "I can't hold them long." She says. Between the two borgs a bunch of mercenaries dash in even as security is hastening to get the non-combatants out of harm's reach.
Emma is /furious/ as she turns to Cat. "Take out the mercs, buy as much time as we can." She looks to Jesa and Qwa. Huh…big coyote! "If you'd take care of the borgs, our primary concern is the innocents…"
Silver eyes turn upon the cyborgs. Kwabena takes a moment to consider options… and yes, there is a brief smirk at Jesana's reaction to his sudden transformations and display of powers. "Maybe later," he quips, before taking a step away from Emma. "I trust you have insurance," he tells her, before contorting his face into an expression that marries focus with rage.
Even as Emma divers the gunfire, Kwabena is transforming again. The body disassembles into tendrils of swirling black smoke that remain in the shape of a human, but something far worse is coming. The nanotech begins discharging electricity, sparks of blue that flicker throughout his form as the technology activates his most deadly form.
The cloud dissolves into a pillar of smoke that bursts away from Emma, flying right into the path of oncoming gunfire. It doesn't stop it at first, but suddenly the gas ignites into blazing plasma, hot and bright enough to melt the bullets upon impact. That deadly arc of living plasma is headed right for the cyborgs.
Yeah. It's gonna get messy.
Catseye rumbles agreement at Emma's order. Sorry, people who attack schools full of children get no mercy from Catseye, it's a bit of a sore point for the woman for some reason. Larger than any true lion, she leaps into the fray with claws unsheathed. And unlike a beast, she is intelligent, she can target her slashes to weak points in armor, dart between the mercs so they risk friendly fire, and coordinate with the security team. Oh, and unlike a normal lion she has a healing factor if not a phenomenal one it is enough to give an extra edge. Over the communications network she growls, "Pride, glad to have you. Amur Khatun come hunt?"
Jesana grins at Kwabena, she likes this guy. And then she has indeed shifted, her dress falling to the floor and her jewelry simply disappearing. She's a large coyote. Looks more like a coywolf actually. A very angry, very fast and strong coyote with diamond strength fangs and nails and she all but flies across the room, intent on the nearest cyborg and ripping its head from it's shoulders. That ought to stop it, she figures. Unless they are shooting armor piercing rounds, they aren't likely to do anything but piss her off and even then they'd have to manage to hit her first and in a fatal spot.
The last thing she says before shifting is "If I die tonight these motherfuckers are gonna *pay* when I get back."
When the children of the gods walk the mortal realms, beware their rage. Death is not eternal. Not for her at least, and her ability to hold a grudge is almost as legendary as her Father's. Just less well known. Which is really not a bad thing all things considered. Especially with the kinda things he's known for. With her settling down and growing roots in New York City however, her own legends are about to start forming. It's not a thing the demigod has realized yet. Right now there's just a fight which she loves, and serving up some vengence which she also loves. The fact that it's at this school sucks though. She just can't fathom people's hatred and ignorance sometimes. Instinct warns her again and she lands on the ground with a thump after going for the Borg's throat and darts out of the way of the plasma. That shit would definitely hurt. She thinks. Sure as hell looks like it.
"Hunter already here." the basso voice replies, as more terrible hammerblows rain more meteor-like shots from on-high, slamming through hounds, cyborgs and mercs with what is quite literally Hand of God level devastation; that weapon being used is meant not as anti-personel, but as anti-vehicle if not quite anti-tank. It would take Diya minutes they quite literally do not have to complete the shift from warrior woman to tigress so that Amur Khatun could hunt these fools. She'd love to - seriously - but she cannot.
Finally, the last of the four clips of shells is used up, and Diya must abandon her sniper's nest. Too many lives are in danger to go on hiding when she can no longer prove lethally effective from here. No ziplines are required, though, as she simply leaps off the roof and falls straight down …
Below, at the window, two of the cyborgs are in place … or they were, until they evaporate in a blaze of plasma. Well, that changes things, as Okhotnik must instead grab the ledge of the window with her arms to arrest her fall, and then drag herself inside. That fall should have yanked her arms clear out of her sockets and torn them off her body. So the woman in threadbare military surplus attire has to be something different. With a bellowing howl that awakens most humans' lizard brains to stark raving panic, she leaps into the fray with a k-bar in one hand and a pistol with delusions of howitzer in the other, quite brutally and lethally tearing through mercs and - when she finds one - cyborgs alike.
"Their minds are shielded…but I have interfered with their motor functions." Emma advises Kwabena. Her tone is grim. "They were sent /specifically/ with me in mind." And the reason for the grim? How did they know she was a telepath? That's known to only a very select few, so is very concerning for her.
Security continues to evac while the heroes divert the baddies. A nod then. "Yes." She has insurance. A blink as the coyote and the SHIELD agent flirt, and then she watches as Kwa turns into plasma that literally cuts, albeit with some resistance, the borgs into halves.
Though really? That's sort of overkill after the Coywolf girl decapitates one! The merc troops behind their borg vanguard open up, automatic weapons fire spraying at the demigoddess.
The sniper fire is noted, the massive attacks definitely eye-catching, and then the Hunter is onsite. Emma's gaze notes her, and offers a nod, and then she glares at a guy leveling a gun at her. No longer fighting the borgs - she unleashes a blast of pure psionic force that is visibly distorting the air, and the guy's mind is more or less shattered, he staggers back, flops down on his ass, and falls flat.
Catseye would feel insulted that her hamstringing and slashing at mercs is getting ignored, so she simply swats one or two upside the head, crushing the skulls into something less… head shaped. NOW she has their attention! Yay! Of course, she is doing her best to stay in the middle of groups of mercs, leaping over their heads and landing in the midst of them so when they shoot at her, they are also shooting at their own teammates. Friendly-fire isn't. And when the fire starts to actually hit her, she leaps straight up -
And clings to the ceiling.
Then Catseye stalks across it like it was the ground, or like gravity personally -offended- her before leaping down, twisting midair, and landing on her paws in the middle of a different cluster of mercs.
Well, it's never a bad time to get your flirt on! Okay, rarely a bad time, in her case at least. Jesana manages to dodge the plasma cloud but a few of the shots do hit. They don't really do any damage aside from that gets the toes and paw of her left hind leg. That hurts, and it slows her a bit but it doesn't stop her. She hears Emma's voice and parses that she's the target and so makes her way back, putting down any assholes still twitching with a savage and entirely unaminalistic glee.
Then a target falls on his ass right in front of her and she's on him, tearing open his throat before anyone can blink. Afterwards, she stands over the corspse and in front of Emma, snarling a warning to anyone thinking of trying again. If someone else tries to shoot she'll simply shift and take the hit. She's fast enough for that. With his mind broken she probably did the bastard a favor, not that she knows that. To her this is just another regular night and fight. Well,, the school part is different. That's kinda fucked up even for her.
The resistance slows him down, and yes; being in this form hurts. Kwabena growls through the pain, and it comes through as a haunting, angry scream of electrically charged particles grinding against each other. However, after cutting through the first group, he needs a recharge.
The plasma dissolves, and when the black cloud hits the ground, it rolls a bit before reforming. Kwabena is on all fours, looking around himself with fiery eyes. A wayward merc happens to get a little too close, so he throws himself up on his hands and swings his legs, cutting the merc off balance at the knees. When the man hits the ground, Kwabena swipes up his rifle, bashes the assailant in the temple with it, sending him into a concussive la-la land.
The rifle is swung around to a nearby target; another merc who now has Kwabena in sights. The merc opens fire, but the bullets pass right through the SHIELD agent, leaving little tufts of smoke in their wake that get sucked right back into the holes they'd put through him.
Kwabena slides around to put a wall behind him, caring not that he's being unloaded upon. Now, those wayward bullets will pelt harmlessly into the wall. Kwabena ignores the fire as it strikes him, takes aim, and puts two in the merc's chest, followed by one in the temple.
In the midst of this combat, the Hunter is being about as brutally lethal as any of the others, stalking up behind mercs and just blowing their heads clean off, or slashing out their spines. When she finds a cyborg she has to fight a bit more efficiently, but she proves to be incredibly strong and very resilient. Oh, and shooting her just makes her angry. She may not be a Banner, but making her angry is a Bad Idea (tm). Whomever this seemingly homeless killing machine may be, she seems lethally smart enough that her solution to a cyborg is to drive that knife of hers up underneath the armored helmet and then twist it around rapidly like the paddle on a mixer inside the brain. It's frighteningly effective. Bleeding all over herself and still moving, Hunter advances through the ranks of the enemy with a purpose.
Hamstringing and slashing does get some attention - but decapitating a cyborg is not an easy thing, so, yeah…also…they can't shoot the plasma arc, so Jesa first. Until Cat ups her game, and starts crushing skulls with some serious authority, about half the squad turns their guns towards the freaking lion thing WALKING on the damn ceiling!
One guy laments. "What the fuck…is this a school or a damn zoo?" Before he gets chomped by Coywolf and though not landed on by the Cat, the friendly fire effect does a nice job making him dance and fall. Silly mercs, using armor piercing rounds that can get through their own armor! Oops!
Jesa gets to chomp a few more of the mercs, and then Kwabena proves to be nigh impervious to conventional arms. "This is stupid." Emma states. "Attacking us makes no sense, they can't win."
One of the mercs pulls the pin on a grenade, only to be frozen in place, in horror, looking at it as he's paralyzed…and then it explodess. Scratching one more merc and hurting several others.
In truth they /can't/ win, not that /they/ were told this, though it becomes apparent. Of their entire team only two guys remain…and they look at the carnage, at the appalling violence visited upon them and drop their guns, then drop to their knees with ankles crossed and hands on their heads. The question is does anyone accept their surrender?
Catseye stalks towards the nearer of the two mercenaries, raises a velveted paw with claws hidden and gives him a gentle 'tap'… by her standards at least. It took a lot of practice to 'tap' hard enough to stun or knock someone out without killing them. Even this move is a risk, concussions are tricky things. But she doesn't trust them surrendered or not, unconscious they are less likely to try something. "Unconcious. Not dead." She growls to the others to let them know -her- plan. Whether they agree or not…
Jesana pauses her growling. She shifts form, not bothering with even the illusion of clothing, blood still dripping down her chin and spattered across her chest. She stares at the two remaning mercenaries and the one dying who asked if this was a school or a zoo? "You knew. You willingly attacked a center of learning?" She makes no move towards the two attempting to surrender though she's watching them as she murmurs something ancient in a language no one here would understand. The spirit of the man who admitted what they were doing suddenly becomes visible to everyone.
Again her words are in that ancient language but from the dawning expression of horror on the spirits face, he understands the gist of it. "You will serve better in death than you did in life." She grins and points and the soul slowly, fighting every step of the way moves to her side, sinks to a sitting posisition and then fades from view, probably to the great thanks of the others. Then Jesa shifts back to coyote, cause naked blood covered lady does not belong in a … she looks around. Well, still. She wonders if she can cast an illusion strong enough to hide this mess until it can be cleaned up. Maybe they can keep what happened here from getting out? She'll wait to see what the plan is.
"HOLD!" Kwabena's voice rises over the noise, and his borrowed rifle is lifted into the air, before the safety is engaged, the clip ejected, and both items are set on the ground.
Rising quickly to his feet, he approaches the two while extending one hand, encased in gunmetal gray. "SHIELD," he announces, for those who weren't already aware. A holographic image is projected from his hand, showing the SHIELD emblem paired with his credentials, and his name.
He approaches those who have surrendered, silver eyes moving easily from the two, to anyone who might also be approaching. "Eidah of you move a muscle," he warns the two on their knees, "You will regret dis thing. Each of you ah undah arrest."
It won't be long before SHIELD's first responders swoop into the area; Kwabena's sole concern now is to keep what he can contained. His attention moves, trying to locate either Emma or one of her daughters; if his eyes have caught sight of any other out of place wonders, it doesn't show.
Okhotnik has moved up behind the second of those who have surrendered, holding her blood-dripping knife to one side of his neck while her pistol is aimed at the back of his head. But she does not attack, not even to KO him as Catseye just has his friend. Instead, she points towards Emma. "Take." she calls out. Just one word. She is not big for words or conversation, sorry. But her intent is clear: have the telepath rip the knowledge from this guy's mind. Who sent them and why are they here?
The Hunter is not done Hunting.
But once the SHIELD agent takes command? Hunter turns and nods to Emma, then takes a knee, pressing her face into Catseye's lavender coat. And then she stands, walks to the window, and jumps out.
Hunter doesn't do cops.
Relieved at seeing SHIELD seems to have things in hand, Jesana will quickly and quietly make her way out of here. She's got to find a certain someone and figure out just what the hell to do with this damned guy's soul. Her and her freakin' impulses. Yeah the guy deserves to pay but she doesn't have any idea what to do with him now or even how or what she can make him do. She's yet to really explore that side of her abilities.
There is no way she's gonna ask the Old Man about it. So Bast's chosen it is. It really says something about her relationship with her father that she'd rather deal with the favored of an egyptian cat goddess than him. She'll wait just long enough to make sure Emma and her daughters are in one piece and slip away. She also checks Kwabena over, her coyote eyes a much lighter brown. He seems in one piece as well. Good. Besides SHIELD now has her home and office number on file thanks to the nazi thing. They can follow up if needed.
The wounds and blood spattered fur don't prevent Catseye from nosing at Hunter and purring faintly. Then Hunter leaps out the window and Catseye pads over to Emma's side, before shifting back to smoothskin fur, though the tail and eyes remain feline. The bloodspatter remains as well, her wounds no longer hidden by fur and they look ghastly on the form of a young woman. She doesn't try to stand, remaining sitting there on the floor. "MotherMotherFrost? So tired…"
Emma mutters a bit, eyes blazing, in a rare display of temper she kicks one of the fallen mercs. Striding back and forth a moment she makes sure that Cat is well, and then nods her thanks to the others before she moves to the merc Hunter is holding, gripping his head in her hands, features contorted by rage. The mind probe is /not/ gentle, it leaves the man a drooling idiot.
"He was hired by a third party on the darkweb, an entity only known as Gamesman1138. He was paid via electronic funds transfer." She looks to Kwa. "Here's the account and security codes, off shore bank."
And then Emma crouches down, ruining a dress that cost thousands by hugging her daughter.
"Thank you all. You saved much, and now we have more work to do."