Tessa and Nolan - Backdated

[ax_herald]

Tessa wants to investigate the new kid with office space.


Nolan made his latest reply to the recent YouTube phenomenon that was 'Dragoness', then slid his phone back in his trousers' pocket and looked around his office. The furniture was very decent, and he was grateful to Professor Xavier for that, but he missed the view from his NYC office. The mansion as a whole felt decidedly stuffy, in comparison to the modern designs he had grown used to in the past couple of years.

And that wasn't even touching on the size of the room he had to share. For his office, at least, he needed less space. Since Professor Xavier had assured him he could use the workshop on the first sublevel, anyway. Although going to explore that space might wait until morning, since Nolan had told Shinobi he would meet him for dinner.

He shut down the secure laptop he had set on the desk, hesitated a second, then decided to leave it here for now. He would talk to Professor Xavier about paying to install a more secure, electronic lock on the door to his office, but he doubted much of anyone would know to come looking for his laptop here yet...

No, no. He couldn't leave it up to chance, and he put the laptop back in his bag, shouldering it. Once he had more secure locks in place, then maybe, never mind the many mutants likely to be able to get past them. But for now, no matter how secure the data on the laptop was, he could not leave the computer lying around.

He pulled the door close behind him, turning the antiquated key in the lock, then turned around to suddenly be faced with a (remarkably pretty) Eastern-looking young woman. He started, then splayed a hand over his heart. "You'll give someone a heart attack, sneaking up on them like that."

"Possibly, yes," the girl confirmed, to all appearances totally indifferent to his startled reaction. She was dressed very simply, in black yoga pants and a black, fitted t-shirt, and she wore slippers on her feet. "Your heart, I think, is strong enough to bear the strain. You are Nolan Ross, of NolCorp. I am Tessa. I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

A faint, bemused smile played on his lips. "Already?" He paused, then added, "Hello, Tessa." He had very little idea what to expect, but was both eager and somewhat terrified to find out.

"Hello," she replied. "You have found the facilities and resources provided to your satisfaction? They are, in all probability, more modest than that to which you are accustomed, but I believe they should be perfectly functional."

"Functional, yes," Nolan agreed, then seemed to recover to some degree. A more certain smile curved up his lips. "Are you the welcome committee?"

"No," Tessa said, with a brisk shake of her head. "I only wish to evaluate a new addition to the school. One who seems to take no part in the usual curriculum. It is a curiosity, and thus warranting investigation."

"Ah, well," Nolan's smile was more wry now than it had been. "That's the same conclusion quite a few magazines have reached." Both business, and business-oriented people magazines.

"Yes," she conceded. "But I am not a magazine journalist. I am a cyberpath, who has taken the safety of this school and its students as her foremost priority. You are an anomaly," she went on. "An anomaly which requires explanation."

"A cyberpath," Nolan echoed, sounding as intrigued as he was. When looking at the usual meanings of the cyber prefix and the path suffix, it sounded like a very elaborate way of saying computer expert, but he doubted that was it, given the mutant context of this school. "What is that?"

"In the crudest possible terms, my mind functions in many ways like a computer; I can process multiple, parallel lines of thought simultaneously without impairment to any specific function. I remember all I experience. And I possess minor telepathic attributes which enable me to utilize my information-processing capabilities at optimum efficiency."

Nolan was positively fascinated by what she was saying... until that last part about telepathic abilities, of course, and he frowned. "Telepathic attributes?"

"A relatively minor aspect of my gifts, not nearly so refined as the Professor's." She tilted her head. "That makes you uncomfortable? If it will assuage your doubts, I do not press into the thoughts of my fellow students without explicit permission. You may not be a student, as such, but I extend you the same courtesy as a resident of the Institute."

"That would reassure me, if I was in the habit of trusting strangers," Nolan assured her. Strangers or, well, anyone. "But if we're going to be talking, would you show me to the kitchen?" As if he hadn't downloaded the plan of the mansion already. "I've promised a good friend a meal, and it would seem like a better setting for most conversations than the middle of the hallway."

"You may trust me or not," she told him, her face tilting quizzically. "If I wished to take from you, you are in no position to stop me. I do not." Tessa nodded suddenly. "You mean Shinobi Shaw, I think? You have spoken to few others since your arrival, and the relationship between NolCorp and Shaw Industries is a matter of record." She beckoned down the hall. "The kitchen is this way." Though aware he very likely did not specifically require it, she strode forward in the direction she had indicated. He could choose whether to follow or walk alongside her.

Walk alongside her, definitely. Nolan peered at her curiously. "You realize that that's not exactly conducive to trust, right?" He only had her word that she was not rooting through his brain, anyway.

"Were my intentions anything other than what I stated," she told him, "I would have withheld the extent of my abilities and simply led you to the kitchen." She paused, and gestured toward a door, one not readily distinguishable from the many others like it along the hallway. "This is the kitchen."

Nolan looked at the kitchen door, then back to her. "Thank you." There was something so very matter-of-fact about her ways; it was almost, but not quite, comfortable. He led the way into the kitchen, first opening the fridge to see what he had to work with in there, then moving on to the cupboards, droppin his bag on the table as he went about it. "And yes, I meant Shinobi. Have you met him?" He was curious whether Tessa ranked among the 'prickly' students Shinobi had mentioned.

She stood just inside the door, arms folded across her middle, observing Nolan clinically. "In passing. He made a point of meeting many of the other students during Warren and Terry's party. We did not interact at any great length; I think we both had other matters to attend to, at the time."

Warren; probably the Worthington heir. Terry, however, Nolan had no clue about. "What matters are you most likely to attend to, at a party?" he asked distractedly, still busy perusing the contents of the kitchen.

"Reconnaissance, for the most part. The festivities were an ideal setting in which to gather information. I suspect that was Shinobi Shaw's primary purpose, as well, though we undoubtedly prioritize knowledge of differing kinds."

"What sort of knowledge do you prioritize, then?" Nolan inquired, and, upon finding fresh figs, decided just what to make tonight. There was pizza dough in the freezer, and ricotta cheese in the fridge. Everything else he needed he was sure to find in any decently-stocked kitchen.

"The sort that allows me to reliably predict the actions and behaviors of my fellow students," she told him without hesitation, watching him bustle about the kitchen with no small interest. "We are relatively secure and at peace for the moment; that is the ideal time for data-gathering. It will mean much less guesswork and speculation later, should a crisis emerge." Which it surely would, sooner or later.

"You're a ray of sunshine and optimism," Nolan remarked, flashing her a smile after setting the oven to preheat. Some other time, he would make the pizza dough himself, but right now he lacked the time. He pushed up the sleeves of his blazer and pulled the industrial dough out of the fridge to unroll it. "It's good to know that someone here is getting ready for future crises."

Of course he approved of her outlook, strange though she seemed. He hadn't gotten NolCorp where it was by ignoring the possibility of disasters in one form or another. Of course, now he suspected how much of his instinct in such things he owed to his mutation, but it was no less true.

"I am a realist," she corrected, though she was certain he had intended the remark ironically. "A genetic phenomenon such as the one we represent cannot but provoke extreme reactions from the baseline--it has already begun, as evidenced by the protest which was recently disrupted by several of the Institute's own students. Being as prepared as possible is the only reasonable way to ensure our survival." Tessa watched him work for a few moments before adding, "May I be of assistance? My culinary abilities are limited, but I follow directions well. And I am always interested in acquiring new skills."

"Oh, this won't require all that much skill, I assure you," Nolan replied with a small smile, even as he scattered some of the cheese over the dough. "You can't go all out on the first dinner, or how will you keep wowing people?" He paused, and looked over at her hopefully. "Although I'd be thankful if you could help me locate the thyme, and the olive oil."

"'Wowing people' has never been one of my primary objectives," said Tessa, a touch uncertainly. Nevertheless, she moved toward a set of cabinets nearby and retrieved the selected items.

"Thank you," Nolan told her with a small smile, and finished scattering the cheese. "No, your primary objectives sound much loftier than that." He reached for the figs to bring over to the sink. "You sound like a true pragmatist." And a force to reckon with, potentially.

"Not particularly," she told him. It was not confidential information, after all. "Until arriving at the school, my primary objective was simple survival. That goal persists, obviously, but has expanded somewhat to encapsulate the school and the other students, as well. With time, I imagine further refinements and additions will occur."

"Why the school and the students?" Nolan asked, genuinely curious. Once done washing the fresh figs, he wiped them dry gently on some kitchen paper. "I mean, why not expand or reduce that perimeter? What made you settle on the school in particular?"

"It is a logical extension. The school provides facilities and resources useful in expanding my personal capabilities; that I should wish to defend it is only logical. As for the other students, many of them have only limited firsthand experience of how harsh the world can be. In their protection, I find a personal fulfillment that was lacking when I cared only for my own needs."

Nolan hummed thoughtfully, even as he grabbed a knife to slice the figs. "Fair enough." It sounded like a... tender, caring motivation, and not one he would've expected from someone speaking as Tessa had so far. He was glad to be wrong, if she was speaking truthfully. "They're lucky to have you, then."

"Time will tell," she noted with a customary lack of inflection. "I have found being of service to be personally rewarding in a way I did not anticipate, but it is not outside the realm of possibilities that necessity will lead me in an alternate direction, or to utilize alternate means. I hope that you will also find your time here useful, though I suspect you would prefer it were brief."

"I already know what use I'd rather have for my time," Nolan confirmed, appreciating the way she was directing the conversation back to the original topic she wanted to learn more about. He laid the sliced figs out on the pizza, then grabbed the olive oil to drizzle it about generously. "It involves managing one of the most gay-friendly and mutant-friendly corporations out there."

"Given that these stances are not presently widespread in the corporate world," she said dryly, "that assertion leaves a great deal of room for interpretation. Still, it is laudable that you would emphasize those aims. Inclusiveness is usually more productive--and more profitable." However one chose to measure profit.

"It certainly has been so far," Nolan confirmed, although NolCorp's mutant-friendly stance had yet to pay off in the ways he hoped that it would. Still, even if it never did, it was the right thing to do, both morally and business-wise. The business he wanted was hardly that of the conservatives. He seasoned the pizza with thyme, then salt and pepper, and put it in the oven.

"Then I wish you continuing good fortune in the future," she told him. "I apologize for imposing on your time with such familiarity. Thank you for indulging me. If you require assistance in orienting yourself to the grounds, or if I may help with any aspect of your powers-training, know that I will be available. I am usually easy to find."

"Thank you," Nolan stated, turning back around to face her and wiping his hands together. "Do you have the answers you wanted?" He wouldn't have asked if she hadn't been telepathic. But since she was, all he could hope was that she would tell him if she had. And, well, that he hadn't given away too much.

He had no idea how to defend himself against telepaths.

"For now," she nodded. "Other questions may arise in the future, but, as I said, for now I think I have imposed enough." Her look turned measuring. "My telepathy is relatively weak," she admitted, though there was no shame in her statement. It was simply a fact. "But my psionic defenses are very strong. I could, perhaps, assist you in that regard. If you wish."

It took Nolan a few seconds to appreciate what she was offering. And then he nodded. "That would be welcome." Not a priority; that still went to managing his visions without risking to die. But if he found the time to work on something beside his management of his corporation and his visions... then certainly, without a doubt. He sounded almost, but not quite, surprised as he told her, "Thank you, Tessa."

She offered the other mutant an ephemeral smile. "It is my pleasure to be of service."

There was just as ephemeral a frown on Nolan's brow, if only because it rankled, somehow, for a woman, however young, of clear talent, to offer her service to anyone. But he tilted his head in acceptance. Now was not the time to challenge that assertion.

But it was, apparently, the time to make random, spontaneous offers. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to join us for dinner?"

Tessa nodded. "I am grateful for the offer, but I have no desire to intrude; from the tenor of your surface thoughts, I conclude you and your roommate have considerably more catching-up to do. Besides," she added with a rueful look, touching a hand to her temple, "Shinobi is a bit ... much. However, if you are amenable, perhaps the three of us could take a meal together after you have both had a greater opportunity to settle into this environment more comfortably. I would look forward to expanding our acquaintance."

"I'll suggest it to him," Nolan offered - somewhat languidly, as was his habit. "I hope to see you again soon." It was surprisingly true.

"You will," she said, no trace of doubt or qualification in her voice. "Until then, I wish you a good evening."

"And you," he replied, and as she slipped away, he grabbed the honey to top off the pizza, once it was baked.

Well. If every evening proved as interesting as this one, Nolan would certainly never lack for entertainment.