Emma was going to say something about privacy, but remained silent after seeing the faces of the foursome.
“Look at Dean Frost’s choices,” I told them, startling the four. “She is a mutant Telepath, and a Psion Telepath. By even the most idiotic assessment, she intends to be one of, if not the, most versatile and powerful Telepaths in the world. Do you agree with me on that?”
“Yes, Doctor Ouilette!” they chimed out, despite themselves.
“SHE IS NOT YOU.” I pounded the table again. “Look at her. She has Scout Levels, which basically represent required combat training and the fact that at some point she probably had to slit some throats to stay alive, and had something beyond her telepathy to fall back on. Her Mindblade Levels, well, I’m sure you know why she picked those up.”
They all wanted to smirk, but the fact was they were all attracted to Kwannon, too, so it kind of fell through.
“You CANNOT do what she is doing. She can make it all the way to Twenty and pat herself on the back. You CANNOT do the same... but you already are trying to. Vizard Levels?” I rolled my eyes. “Lazyass excuses for Levels.” I wiped away Frost’s basic Assay, focusing on theirs.
“This is what you have to work with.” Four columns, three of them with six Rows. “This is it, this is all.” Psion/2 and Vizard/1 popped up at the top of those columns, and question marks filled in the other rows, including the column still blank. “You can’t break Six without a miracle. But by Gods and Totems, you can make Faux Sixteen, and if you screw that up, it is all godsdamned on you.”
“Six, Sixteen?” squeaked Sophie in disbelief. The others gawked.
I looked at Emma Frost, who just threw up her hands. “They never listened to me when I broached this topic!” she exclaimed theatrically.
I just sneered at the four of them. “Trust,” and they all blushed. “Fine, I do career schemas for Reed Richards and the rest of the Fantastic Four, I think I can handle you four.” I glared at the four of them, and they cringed despite themselves.
“I am going to tell you how to make Sixes who are Faux Sixteens... without your bloody Rapport.
“It is not going to be easy. You can whine, moan, and bitch to the universe about it, I don’t care. This is what you have to do.
“But you know what? It’ll all be yours when you do it. Nobody can say you had a free ride, nobody can say you haven’t earned every single damn bit of what you have. And once you are Sixteens... that means together, you’re basically a false Twenty.” I stared at them coolly. “When you’re Twenties, you can make your own damn Miracles.”
Their eyes all lit up with sudden fervor. “What do we have to do?” blurted out Phoebe instantly.
I flicked a finger, and the Levels they had to take filled in.
Six levels of Psion. A Level of Scout, five Levels of Mindshadow. A Level of Melee or Mindblade Psywarrior, five Levels of Battlemind.
The little (+1 Level of Psion Caster Level) below Mindshadow and Battlemind were telling. I was making them blink on and off, too, just in case they were too dumb to see it.
“Sixteen Levels of Psion Caster ability,” breathed Irma for all of them. “We can really DO this...”
“You need to make a choice, and you need to make it now, before you diverge.” Their mental Stats of 13, 14, and 17 started blinking. “If you want to do this, that means you’re paying full Karmic prices for that Caster Level, maybe half the price of the full Character Level. You’re going to be glass cannons, but you’ll still be cannons!
“That also means you’re going to need a 26 in your primary Stat, or higher.” Charisma blinked red. “You’re planning on going with Charisma, because that’s easiest. Dean Frost hasn’t taken her Human/3 advance, nor her Atlantean Human, probably distracted by you-all. Her 26 in Charisma is assured.
“Your other Stats are much lower. But if you are willing to swear to and serve the Golden Hag, she can grant you a Mark. It doesn’t have to be to Charisma. It will increase that Stat by +4.” Their Ints and Wisdom alternated from 13 and 14 to 17 and 18, and all four of them stared at the Assay.
“Your Talent is Domineering Telepath. Charisma is your highest Stat. It basically almost forces you down Dean Frost’s road, who naturally took the path best suited for her. Note that she has not taken a Mark, either.” Emma flushed, but said nothing, merely raising her chin.
“All of the Psionic Schools can work off Intelligence. Bio can work off Constitution. Sensory can work off Wisdom. Dimension and Kinetic do not normally work off Charisma, either!
“You can learn all the foundation you need in Telepathy with your Mutant Core. You do not need to pursue Psion studies of Telepathy at all. If you need advanced Telepathy,” I swirled my hands and pointed at Dean Frost, “you Rapport with her. If she needs Dimensional, Kinetic, Sensory, or Bio, she can Rapport with YOU.”
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I leaned back and studied all of them as they considered that.
“This means you WILL diverge, physically and mentally. Your Rapport bringing you back together will mean you become very strong as you start borrowing one another’s strengths.
“You will learn different skills, but you will all have a foundation that is rock solid and the same... your Mutant Telepathy skills. Even if you specialize, you will learn and have the foundation that Miss Frost tells you to have, so that you always, ALWAYS have the essentials covered.
“You’re going to be spending a lot of Masteries on Stats. It’s fine, it’s unavoidable... but you need to do it, there’s no way around it.
“As your Faux Psion Level rises, just like everyone else, it will take longer and longer to Level. You will take your Human Levels, you will raise your all-around Stats, and you will keep advancing.
“You will cut your Rapport down to minutes a day, if that. Just long enough to keep one another updated on what you are doing, and to rebuild that trust you are straining... and reassure one another that your individualism will benefit all of you.
“If you don’t think you can stay out of Rapport, Dean Frost can send you elsewhere. There are other schools that specialize in single Disciplines who can accommodate any one of you. If that is what is needed to help you shine on your own, then that is what you do.”
“Dr. Ouilette,” Sophie took a deep breath, “is it true that this will work? We... can reach Faux Sixteen?”
“And together reach Twenty? Yes.” My eyes narrowed slightly. “But I confess to ignorance, Dean Frost. I do not believe Alter Reality is in the Telepathic school.”
Emma Frost arched an eyebrow. “No, it is not, Doctor. It is mixed Kinetic/Dimensional/Sensory.”
“Ah, of course. And no doubt requiring the Headmistress’ approval to learn?” I inquired.
“That is correct. Reality Warping is one of those abilities that gets the Hag and some other notables looking at you rather sharply, as I recall.”
“I can’t imagine why. Something like growing a mind-clone in someone else’s skull, I’d gather?”
“Yes, doing that one without an exceptionally good reason earns you a quick trip to a disintegrator bin,” she agreed.
“Can Headmistress Cassandra do it?” I asked.
“I believe she can, yes, but...” she tapped her chin thoughtfully, “there is no bloody way on this Earth she is going to mess with someone’s else’s soul with that power if there is any other recourse. The easiest way to get rid of the Vatted Soul condition is to kill the soul outright, naturally enough. Power like that wrought on one’s self is far, far more dependable than that done by another.”
“Don’t get me started on Entities grafting the souls of other beings onto you.”
Emma clapped her white-gloved hands together. “Oh, the infamous ‘Ghost Rider’ Pacts! So edgy with the flaming mounts and burning skulls and all!” she smiled.
“And you think a telepath sharing a head with MY Pact Patron would be Hell.” I just rolled my eyes. “Screaming Spirits of Vengeance clamoring to get out and take revenge on anything and everything all the time. Ugh. Spare me the drama and pyrotechnics, thank you.”
“You speak like you’ve met one?” Emma asked archly, interested now.
“Johnny Blaze is a member of a family with an unfortunate heritage of hosting a Spirit of Vengeance, something about a Pact made with Mephisto by one of their ancestors. He rides around with an associate of mine, hunting werewolves and vampires and demons over in the States. Very good at tracking them down, too.”
“Ah, the one on the flaming motorcycle,” she nodded. “Have you ridden on the bike?”
“I have! Very smooth ride, but hellfire, you know, kind of stinks...” I waved my hand in front of my nose. “And you have to listen to the wailing of the Spirits of the Damned forming the wheels. A touch morbid, on the face of things.”
“Did your Patron have an opinion on them?” she wondered.
“The general impression I got was small fry, not worth fishing for. As for Johnny, well, our Patrons basically have no spheres of conflict or dominion, so things were fine.”
“Are the Totems a viable alternate avenue for the girls?” she asked suddenly, popping that out of nowhere and startling them.
I tilted my head. “Other than those who will take anyone? The average friendly Totems prefer non-Powered, natural souls, and the fact they’d be coming to the Spirits because they couldn’t get power any other way would mean they’d doubt the girls’ sincerity.
“In addition, mastering Warlock Magic would take at least as much effort as training a Mutant Core, especially one with their potential. Major time suck, major Karma drain, major distraction from what they really need to do, which is stay on course and hit Faux Sixteen. If they Alter Reality up and want to pledge to a Totem after that... sure, knock yourselves out. They’ll have the time and Levels to devote to them. A decent way of diversifying their powers... but make sure it’s a Totem they want to serve, or a family of them who respect one another.”
I lifted an eyebrow at them, looked back and forth, and Emma wondered what I was thinking. “You know, four different Elemental Pacts in Rapport Harmony, with a Landbound to center them, is quite literally among the strongest Warlock configurations that exists. Just something to think about.”
“Me?” Emma blinked rapidly. “A Landbound?”
“Just something to think about.” I nodded at the foursome. “If they take Pacts, then so should you.”
“Well.” She couldn’t disagree with that suggestion, and glanced over at them. “Make Sixteen and we shall discuss this option at that time!” she said, as if it were a done thing.
“Yes, Miss Frost!” they chimed together.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Dean Frost?” I asked calmly. Other than send Felicia here...
“If I might... feel your unwarded mind, before you go?” she asked hesitantly, and this time was quite pink.
I tilted my head, looked at her and flicked up five floating symbols, a variant thereof she might recognize. These all flickered out onto their foreheads for a moment. “Open the door,” I told them.
Didn’t need to tell a telepath twice. Even if they’d never used one, they’d certainly sensed the doors from Marks, and felt them being used. The doors opened, and five minds stepped through, four of them all too identical, and one burning much brighter and deeper.
Blue and green. Even as a Twelve, Emma Frost hadn’t solidified a philosophical foundation, although she was high-minded enough as a teacher to rise above mere brown.
They stared at me, and I looked back at them.
Behind me, a shadow in the mindscape, eight red eyes lit up dimly.
Their mental hands were all reaching out, but paused, then withdrew as they saw those eyes. It was quite obvious I was already claimed.
The sigla expired, the Markdoors faded, and their minds were drawn back beyond. They all flinched at how smoothly it had happened, and stared at me in shock and some awe.
“I’ll send one of my little sisters this way,” I told them as I rose, turning my eyes on the four girls. “I think she can help solve all of your fours’ problems, as she has a rather unique perspective on life,” and I turned my eyes back to Emma, “and you’ll definitely appreciate her outlook on things, too.”
Despite herself, her eyes widened in anticipation. “I look forward to meeting her, then! What is her name?”
“Felicia.”