I personally had done almost no traveling in the Tribal Nations. Amusingly, Ursula had visited several places as a representative of the Aesir to the Tribal churches, and Felicia had gone anywhere she found interesting.

Still, visiting Cynosure wasn’t difficult. After all, Jean Grey was there, and she was a personal friend. Sama and Briggs wouldn’t have said anything about Kwannon’s origins regarding me, as it was largely irrelevant. She and Cassandra Rantha had a relationship, and Kwannon was extremely mature and focused for her age, with a tremendous sense of responsibility for her friends and family... and breathtakingly deadly if roused to fight.

Kwannon would have long used Speak with Dead many, many times to bring back the mnecromonics and relive all the former Kwannon’s past, so there would be no issues with testing who she was. That she was a whole lot more than the former Kwannon was just a bonus.

A Sending sent ahead of time even allowed me to walk in the front gates without question, although I could probably have just strolled in by showing up in Wrecker mode and getting recognized that way. Dr. Dyna Ouilette was simply not recognized like big, tall Dynamo the Champion Contestant was.

The foremost school for psionics of all kinds in the world was located in a lovely area in what would have been Idaho on another world. Lots of trees, organic-looking buildings often made with crystals or composite materials melded together, and winding pathways in colors going this way and that.

The air was humming with telepathy, but not as much as I would have expected. I wondered if the fact they were still on war readiness with the States had anything to do with it.

I definitely wasn’t the only Stater here. I passed by some obvious newbies looking out of place, and not just because they were mutants. They were dressed in t-shirts and jeans with no sign of Tribal styles or colors about them, alternating between English and Human with something approaching defiance, and which actually came across as a little sad.

“You! Who are you!”

The speakers were a bunch of young women, high-schoolers, all blonde, blue-eyed, pretty, and dressed alike. They definitely did not look like people who should be attending a Tribal college, about as out of place as they could be.

“I beg your pardon?” I asked calmly, turning my eyes on them slowly.

I felt a ping against my Astral Bar. There was a crack of voltage, catching one of the girls in the forehead and dropping her like a poleaxed steer.

Her three companions all looked stunned at the abruptness of the reaction, and then turned their attention on me all at the same time, their eyes starting to glow.

Voltage crackled between my eyes, and I just stared back at them calmly as their eyes started to glow together. “Oh, look, the little cuckoos are going to try something telekinetic. Please, little birds, touch the slightest hair on my head with your TK.”

“We can defend ourselves against your electricity!” they said at the exact same time, which probably was supposed to be intimidating and weird me out.

“Is that so? You’re master electrokinetics?” I asked archly, looking them over, arcs of green-white sizzling between my fingers. “Weird. I don’t sense anything but some weak TK effects my lightning will punch through like a hot knife through warm butter. Well,” I smiled in an unfriendly manner, “perhaps you’ll surprise me.

“Go ahead, little birdies. Try something.” I crossed my arms over my chest and waited, obviously not at all intimidated by them.

The buzz in the air said they were obviously talking to one another, the way my hair was lit up with white at the tips, and how casually and easily I was controlling my electricity.

“Dynamo?” one of them gasped suddenly, pointing. “Her hair!”

“She’s way too short!” one of the others immediately denied, staring at me.

“Didn’t Miss Grey say Dynamo really doesn’t look like an amazon?” the third broke right in on the other two, shaking her head in denial. They turned back to look at me and ask me directly, but I was already thirty yards away and sparkfooting along to get away from them.

For some reason, they didn’t feel the urge to TK me or mindprobe me, or even broadcast a telepathic question to me.

------

I skated my way through the scenic school, the display enough to get people to leave me alone despite my appearance and me not emitting any psignature. They weren’t complete idiots here, and if it wasn’t psionic, I was still using something dangerous. Nigh-continuous displays of psionics seemed to be the order of the day, affirming everyone else that you did indeed belong here if you didn’t have horns or wings or something to make sure you were obviously a mutant.

Kwannon was going to be teaching a class on mindblade use, as normal. Basically, every single damn mutant here had a mindblade, as did every Psion who wasn’t a complete idiot or devoted pacifist. The outdoor area she held her classes in was basically an open sandy area over hard-packed clay.

Mutant powers varied tremendously, and so there was an underscored social hierarchy based on how powerful mutant powers were. Alongside this hierarchy was a second ladder of Psion levels and the spiritual achievements that came with them, the geeks vs the jocks... or the Powered vs the Super-Powered, as it were.

There was a third ranking, and that was the Mindblades.

Regardless of how powerful their mutant powers were, when the Mindblades came out, the mutations reverted (without some very specific training otherwise), other powers were interrupted, and only the most advanced students could hold onto a semblance of their mutant powers while their mindblades were displayed.

Mindblades out, all the mutants were suddenly equal again. As a result, scuffles, sneering, and social bullying was worked out in Mindblade sparring circles. Low-Core mutants with minor abilities, lousy or outright debilitating mutations and the like focused everything on mindblade usage, psionics, and the Core Disciplines, and due to time constraints, tended to rapidly outperform their more powerful compatriots in all three areas.

If it didn’t close the gaps all the time, it at least made them a lot more equal overall, and the lucky high-tier mutants got themselves owned in mindblade combat all the time. The fact their instructor was a high-tier mutant didn’t escape anyone, but part of her mutant power was manifesting a mindblade and nicely sidestepping the restrictions on everyone else, which was totally cheaty.

I found a seat off to the side to watch as the students began to fill in.

I wasn’t surprised when the four blonde teens showed up, and they promptly started a whisper campaign that didn’t get anywhere near me. Most of the people coming in were Tribals, with darker skin and hair ranging from light brown and coppery to nearly-black, but there were quite a few obvious and paler Staters, many of them still looking awkward and uncomfortable. You could tell those with alternate forms they liked by the looseness of their clothes, and the ones with alternate forms they didn’t use by how relieved they were, and how happily they flicked up their mindblades.

I watched the array of colors. Staters tended towards the blue and green, although kids were bent towards the higher colors. Tribals were mostly yellow, some glowing white. The orange and grey people stood out, the latter tending to be charismatic types who attracted crowds, orange seeming to be an excuse for popularity, and grey for edgelord loner or something.

The four blondes were blues. When they flicked up their mindblades, they jerked, and somehow managed to get both tense and relaxed at the same time as they lost their telepathy and had to rely on mouths like everyone else.

Oh, hey, that was either a senior student, or- “Miss Frost! Miss Frost!” the foursome promptly called out as the attractive Caucasian blonde in white came marching in as if she owned the place, trailing several non-Tribal students like pets. That one even looked like a cyborg... yep, Cuban, codenamed Jetstream...

Emma Frost, a teacher at Cynosure. I wanted to rub my temples, especially as the girls went running over there to tattle.

Kwannon wasn’t far, and Jean was with her. I just shook my head as Emma’s eyes turned, eh, frosty and zeroed in on me. She strode directly towards me at the other end of the chairs, and the students got out of the way, conversation falling as they all turned to enjoy a coming good show.

She stood in front of me, glaring at me. “Who are you?” she demanded immediately. “You are not a student of this university! How dare you come here and harm its students?”

“I harmed students?” I replied calmly, locking eyes with her lazily. “Do you even know the Core Disciplines?” She blinked in shock at my reply. “There is a Discipline used by non-projecting minds that automatically reacts against intrusions by outside telepathic influences.” I pointed unerringly at the one Assay named Phoebe. “That one tried to get into my head. There was a response. I was quick enough to restrain myself, or her head would have popped like a grape.”

Phoebe went absolutely white.

Green-white voltage danced between my eyes as I failed to blink. “Now, if you think I’m lying, you look tough enough to appreciate a proper rebuttal to undesired telepathic effects on the mind. I’ll restrain myself to one-quarter my normal rebuttal. That should just about knock you across the training field, mess up your perm, ruin your make-up, fry your outfit, and lay you out cold.

“Go ahead and try something. Have the little birdies back you up if you like. They look like they need more lessons in not getting into the heads of others.” I had noticed that they had lost their mindblades, and their eyes were all glowing slightly.

Emma Frost stared at me, trying to intimidate me, trying to get any sense of weakness from me at all, and failing utterly. “Who are you?! I am the Assistant Dean of the School of Telepathy here at Cynosure!”

“I am a doctor from eleven different universities. My doctoral application in non-corporeal energy transmission to the University of Moscow is still pending. Are you trying to impress me with being certified by one?” I returned archly.

“You are in Cynosure, not... Moscow!” she grit her teeth. Because Moscow was a big name to invoke, regardless.

“To which I was invited, or I would not be here,” I replied easily. This woman was an idiot. She could just mentally ask the guards out front. I’d signed in.

“Or, you know, Emma, you might show some manners and introduce yourself to our guest,” a calm voice imbued with considerably more spiritual force than Emma’s own washed over us.

I noticed the resentment and anxiety in her eyes as Emma Frost stiffened up and turned around. “Assistant Dean Kwannon,” she got out smoothly, didn’t even have her teeth clenched. “You know who this woman is?”

“Of course I do.” She left it hanging, smiling slightly as she moved forwards, all cat-like grace and curves and control in a comfortable gi with her Heavy Gravity Belt on as normal, having a physical presence a telepath simply couldn’t emulate. “Doctor, a pleasure to see you,” she smiled as I got to my feet. I took her proffered hand and shook it.

Jean Grey was right behind her, green eyes twinkling. It seemed this wasn’t the first stress-test between the two AD’s. “Well, the lack of vampires and werewolves does help,” I agreed. “Kind of an unwanted hum in the air, though.”

Kwannon turned her eyes on the blonde foursome, and just arched a single eyebrow in reproof. They all stiffened, and there was a snap and hum as all their mindblades, straight blue daggers, manifested together.

Then her gaze moved to Emma, who made a sound somewhere between defiance and acquiescence, and an emerald rapier appeared in her hand.

A lot of the locals were glancing at me. “No mindblade?” Emma asked me coolly.

“I don’t need a control lever for my powers, telepath,” I replied easily, which made her stiffen again. “Now, if you want me to draw my Focus and manifest my blade, you’re going to need to put on some welding glasses, so not a good idea.”

Kwannon just sighed at the two of us. “Dr. Dyna Ouilette of the Baxter Foundation, may I introduce to you Professor Emma Frost, Assistant Dean of the School of Telepathic Studies of Cynosure.”

“Professor,” I acknowledged her cordially, while her lips repeated ‘Baxter Foundation’, and Irma of the quartet behind her was discretely looking that up on her Vaccine.

=========

Emma Frost, the White Queen of Cynosure

Female Mutant Human/2 (Telepath: Obsession: The Mentalist)

Scout/4; Psion/12 (Telepathy); Mindblade/4

Strength: 8->11

Dexterity: 15->17

Constitution: 12->15

Intelligence: 13->17

Wisdom: 14->17

Charisma: 17->23

Notable Talents/Traits: Domineering Telepath, Devoted Teacher; Secondary Mutation

Mutant Telepath Template: Manifest Telepathy

---Secondary Mutation: Diamond Form (emotionless)

=========

---------------

Note that Emma Frost is older than the X-Men by default.

The Cuckoos are 4 instead of 5. The last one, Esme, was deep purple in Aura, and was discretely removed by the authorities of Cynosure before she could infect the others. They are indeed clones of Emma Frost, and the university is attempting to break their instinctive clustering hivemind effect. The ‘thousandclones’ of Emma storyline has already been disassembled by Tribal agents, and the Cuckoos are all that remain.

Easter Egg: The original names of the Cuckoos of Sophie, Phoebe, Irma, Celeste, and Esme spell out SPICE. Dyna isn’t doing more than topical Assays on them, as they are Twos at best at this point.

Domineering Telepath naturally means that Emma uses Charisma for Telepathy instead of Wisdom. She's not the most insightful of mentalists.