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frosttreatment-blog · 8 years ago

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Log 3 - Session 1

I'm already becoming paranoid, and the fact that I can't prove it’s unfounded is only making it worse.

I bought a spy recorder, a recording device in the shape of a picture frame; my goal being to place it in my office to be perpetually waiting for Emma Frost to appear next. Based on our "intake", I can only assume she will continue telepathically intruding in on sessions with my regular patients - talking to me through them for reasons I still don't fully understand. I can see why she’s hiding, certainly, but what treatment can she hope to have under these context?

Fearful that she would catch on if I attempted recording her once again using my cellphone, I left the spy recorder running - and running, and running. Over a week of needlessly recording my patient’s sessions, an act for which I could have my license revoked for. For nothing. I started this week wondering if perhaps I would never hear from her again, or, more paranoid still, what if she knew I bought the device? She’s unable to read my mind, but she could have known what I was up to through the cashier at the electronic’s store. Could she be monitoring me that closely? This descent only picked up momentum as, of course, the following discussion took place on the first day that I did not turn the spy recorder on. It’s one hell of a coincidence, yet Emma’s zero mention of this makes even less sense; especially considering her apparent ignorance to me once again ‘checking the time’ to begin recording her on my phone. Or perhaps her not mentioning my attempts play into her game, making me sweat with anticipation. Or perhaps….I have to stop.

Nevertheless, the following was recorded after the initial disruption of my weekly session with Bradley War-ton, husband and father, who had been seeing me for anger management.

____________________________________________

[Placing my phone down]

DR: -gives us, once again, less than a full session. Assuming you want to take up the entirety of what Brad has left.

FROST: Oh this troglodyte of a man will be lucky if I leave him with his most basic synapses in place.

DR: I don’t appreciate that type of humor, Emma.

FROST: Then isn’t it a good thing that I’m not being humorous. There are so many things you don’t know about little baby Bradley here. Almost every session you have with him is bathed in lies.

DR: Ms. Frost…

FROST: Please, darling, Emma. I’m younger than you, after all.

DR: I don’t believe…—Emma, please. There is a level of this I understand. You’re currently in hiding, a fugitive-

FROST: As if that status hasn’t been mutant-kind’s default-

DR: You can’t see me in person. You can’t trust me, or anyone, to not give you up to Shield. So you need leverage.

[Frost laughs; the feminine sound fluttering from Brad’s barrel chest]

FROST: I come with leverage, dear. This arrangement is merely one of…insurance.

DR: But I can’t have an honest session with you while worrying that you’re going to hurt a patient of mine while you speak to me from inside their central nervous system. And I can’t have an honest session with you while worrying that if I say something you don’t like, you’re going to hurt my family. I…I can’t even breathe when I think about…

[The stress gets to me as I begin to choke up]

FROST: Oh, come off it. As if I would ever harm a lovely mutant family.

DR: I…

FROST: Do you need my word that no harm will come to your husband and daughter? You have it.

[Silence]

DR: ….alright. That’s g-

FROST: In relation to what we discuss in here. I do like a firm hand, after all. Don’t want you pulling any punches, now do we? However, I simply can’t make such a promise in regards to any attempts you may make to undermine me. But I’m sure that will not be an issue, correct? There will be no tricks up your finely tailored sleeves, yes?

DR: …yes. Of course. Complete confidentiality, as I would offer any of my…patients. If that is what you wish to be: A patient of mine.

FROST: …Yes. And I agree, from one mental health professional to the other: We should have as much trust between us as the situation allows.

DR: Uh…one mental health professional, to the other…?

FROST: I am a licensed sex therapist, you know.

DR: W-what? How? When? Where did you get your degree, The Hellfire Club?

[Emma laughs, this time a booming rawr from Brad’s lungs]

FROST: Oh I knew I picked you for a reason.

DR: Other than not being able to read my mind?

FROST: Well that was your biggest drawback, only made up for by your being homosexual.

DR: My being gay matters to you? More than my being a mutant?

FROST: I’d be equal parts likely to dismiss a male therapist were he human or heterosexual.

[I chuckle]

DR: Thank you, I think.

[Silence]

FROST: …My brother was gay.

DR: Really? I didn’t know that.

FROST: Didn’t you? After what I can only imagine was a very extensive background check on me. It certainly helps one to prepare, I’m sure, when one’s client happens to come from a famously privileged family. …Then again, I would imagine Daddy Dearest has stripped Christian from the record books…

DR: Christian? That’s a lovely name.

[Silence]

DR: Is he….?

[Silence. Emma looks off into the distance]

DR: …I don’t do any, um, background checks on patients. I resist even a google search. I prefer to hear from them what they would like me to know about their past.

FROST: You’re certainly doing yourself a disservice with Big Brad over here, I can tell you that.

DR: I’m sorry?

[Emma stretches out one of Bradley’s arms, looking at his open hand.]

FROST: Would you look at the size of these ghastly paws. They’d make even Henry jealous. Oh the never-ending joys of being a man…

DR: What kind of joys?

FROST: Not any joys you likely know of, dear doctor queer. I’m speaking of the more brutish luxuries, enjoyed by Neanderthals just as this patient of yours…oh to be a man in this world. I would still be considered a hero, I’m sure of it. Not that heroics were ever my goal.

DR: You think a man would get away scot-free with shooting down an airship?

[A loud BANG follows, as Emma pounds Bradley’s fists onto the table in front of them]

FROST: THAT’S NOT—I DID NOT—I WOULD NEVER DO SUCH A THING!!

DR: Emma, please-

FROST: I’ve watched my students die in front of me, in my own arms! I’ve witnessed the GENOCIDE of our people! Why would I…

[Silence; Emma appears confused, which means Bradley is looking confused. For a moment I’m not sure if she’s lost her control on him, or…]

DR: Are you…alright?

[She snaps back, still in control]

FROST: How many civilians are daily casualties of so-called “super hero” battles? You think every building is evacuated in an orderly fashion before Thor throws it at someone?

DR: I’m not-

FROST: Tony Stark was a bloody arms dealer! Logan spent lifetimes hacking off people’s limbs and spent his last few years as a headmaster of a school! By that logic I should be rewarded by own damn island for all the people I’ve killed.

DR: So are you saying you did, or didn’t—

FROST: And for all our sakes, can you consider your word choices?

DR: My…?

[Emma scoffs]

FROST: “scot-free”…

[Silence]

DR: Oh—right. Yes.

[Silence]

FROST: How funny. Looking back, it appears as though he was the only male to not get off “scot-free”; of anything. But then again, he was a mutant. Perhaps he was the one male exception made in exchange for Natasha’s ability to be both an Avenger and an Assasin. Nothing masks a good double standard like an additional one.

DR: …Perhaps one could argue that all “superheroes” get away with murder, to a point.

FROST: Yes, well then tell me who decides that point. Explain to me when it shifts.

DR: I would imagine somewhere between collateral damage and excessive force. Aggressive attack and passive self-defense—

FROST: We tried passive! Where did it get us!? Building and perpetually rebuilding schools, tucked away in San Francisco, or an a floating island, or in a bloody hell dimension! Fighting extinction again, and again, and again, while the rest of the world watches, slack-jawed. Homo sapiens continue on, posting selfies and live-tweeting sarcasm while our people die in mass numbers. Again. And again. And again. And when we finally fought back, the little boys needed their femme fatale scapegoat. Something to justify our mutual bloodthirst; suddenly transform it some sort of ‘accidental war’. “Oh, we didn’t meeean to feel the outrage of our loved ones and comrades dying all around us - that was all the Evil White Queen’s doing!”

DR: From my understanding, the real issue between the mutant community and the inhuman community was a lack of communication between the two.

FROST: Wrong! It was about war. Tell me how many wars you know of that were solved with ‘communication’. It was about death. It was about survival. And when those topics became too much for their feeble male minds, the boys decided to make it about gender.

DR: Gender?

FROST: Yes, suddenly a plague that was killing and castrating us became an issue of man and woman. About Emma and Scott, about innocent Adam and wicked Eve. Auntie Emma, the evil seductress who lured the golden boy away from the sacred ginger calf, so irredeemable in the face of a “Royal Family” led by a King who murdered his own son. But no one cares about that, do they? No, no one remembers how Abraham was so eager to kill his son Issac in the name of his god, they remember how Eve was the bitch to ate the apple. While Adam remains the eternal patriarch, free to rape and pillage and be forgiven over, and over, and over again.

DR: I’m not going to lie Emma, I’m finding it very hard to follow you right now, this train of thought. We are indeed talking about a war of sorts, and wars are never black and white-

FROST: Yet some things ARE black and white. Bradley over here, for example, hits his wife. Beats on her.

DR: …What?

FROST: Every argument, every “anger management” moment he digresses with you - he leaves out the parts where he slams Virginia’s head against the wall. Or when he drags her by her hair and throws her into the shower, lest that nosey neighbor of theirs sees her and connects the bruises.

DR: …Emma this is completely-

FROST: This is what men do. They serve out the abuse, with the privilege that was handed to them, and then they dictate later what the new reality is. Who was at fault, who has no right to complain, what and who really matter. It’s all black, and white, to them. Do you really see a solution to that in passively looking for the grey?

[Silence]

DR: Emma, our time is about up.

FROST: And what would you like me to do, darling?

DR: I-I’m sorry?

FROST: I’m here, inside this monster’s mind. I can easily make it so that every time he lifts a finger against his wife, the left and right hemispheres of Bradley’s brain do a lovely seizure-inducing dance. Lessons can be taught at a miraculous pace when the learning curve only allows for a few mistakes before mobile functions are lost.

DR: I will absolutely not-

FROST: If I simply leave him to you, what will you do? Is it fair to call the police, when you have no evidence? You’ll be acting solely on the word of - gasp - the evil Emma Frost, apple of knowledge in hand. I could leave him with the compulsion to be completely honest with you about the argument over the dishes. Even then, however will you know it’s not a false memory I implanted? How very grey all your options are.

[Silence, as I found myself at a complete loss for words]

FROST: I think I’ll take my leave, with that. As you said, we’re out of time, and I’ve had more than enough talk of damned greys to last me several lifetimes. Until next time, dear.

DR: Hold on, y-

[Before I can respond, Emma’s eyes close, and reopen as Bradley Warton, back in control of his mind and body and completely unaware of the time lost]

BW: Ah…damn, where was I? The dishes, right. So I told her, nothing’s clean, and she has the nerve—

____________________________________________

Mr. Warton was confused, and angry, that our session was over so apparently fast. He even accused me of somehow tampering with the clocks in my office to cheat him out of half his session. This was the least of my concerns at the moment, in regards to just how damaging Emma’s presence would be to the rest of my practice.

I was only able to calm Bradley down by offering to make time for him before our next scheduled session, free of charge. Then, partially into my next client’s session, I had to excuse myself; citing the need to check my phone due to a “family emergency”.

I went outside and called the police, reporting my suspicions

of domestic abuse.

#emma frost #therapy #headcanon #mysogyny

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frosttreatment-blog · 8 years ago

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Emma Frost - Jeff Dekal

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frosttreatment-blog · 8 years ago

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Log 2 - Intake

The following is a transcript from a recording, beginning at approximately 20 minutes into my weekly session with the Muriel Jenkins.

Having been unable to sleep every night this week, anticipating a moment again similar to what I experienced during dinner Sunday night, I spent a great deal of time pondering what steps I could take. Finding an inconspicuous recording app for my phone was a suitable use of my time waiting for Emma Frost to force herself into someone else’s mind, so that she may get a quote from me.

I spotted it as soon as it began during my afternoon appointment with Muriel. Mrs. Jenkins was in the middle of a story, an altercation with her daughter-in-law, when she suddenly went blank behind the eyes. By the time she was done readjusting her posture, I was already waiting for the RP dialect.

I did try to hide my outrage, my anxiety, my exhaustion in wanting to know what this game was that I was being forced to play. Most importantly, I stayed calm while reaching for my phone, to check the time as a reference for my next discussion point - when in actuality, I was turning said recorder app on.

____________________________________________________________________

DR: -irty[thirty] five minutes left in her session. You don’t think that’s unfair?

FROST: Oh please; I’m creating a false memory of her blathering on to you for another hour, before coming to the astute observation that she desperately wishes she could be the one married to her son. Homework for next week is to stop putting that reverse oedipus baggage on other-

DR: Ms. Frost.

FROST: Please, darling, you can call me Emma. No need for pretensions here.

DR: Funny you should say that, don’t you think?

FROST: Excuse me?

[silence]

DR: You know, many health professionals would agree that I would need to need to see you, in person, for a proper intake.

FROST: I’ll mail you a bloody picture, then. I think we can both agree that my situation calls for a level of…discretion. I would much rather project an image of myself wearing only the finest Oscar de la Renta for you to see instead of this wrinkled landscape, but…You’re immune to telepathy. Or so they say.

DR: My reputation has held up, I imagine.

FROST: Why? Because I’ve only tried reading your mind 4 times since this conversation began? Yes, you’re just as advertised. I can’t hear anything but ocean sounds in there.

DR: Oh, c'mon-

FROST: It’s true! Like listening to a sea shell. It’s rather calming, actually.

DR: …I like to think telepaths enjoy being around someone whose mind is closed off to them.

FROST: But then however do you blackmail them? [silence] FROST: See? I don’t need telepathy to know you’re waiting for me to tell you I’m joking.

DR: May I ask what your goal here is? Are you seeking treatment, or is this…part of some…

FROST: Grand scheme? As if I were some entendre-named Bond villain. Really doctor, I thought your bedside manner would be much better than this.

DR: Well in both our defenses, I’ll admit to considering you a far more serious threat than a Bond villain. I don’t think you can blame me for anticipating that the White Queen might have moving pieces at work

FROST: Flattery will get you nowhere. And for your information… [silence] FROST: Yes. I am looking for an intake. To begin seeing a therapist. To begin seeing you as my therapist, I’ve decided.

DR: Alright, and what are the circumstances surrounding your-

FROST: You can’t be serious.

DR: -I know the headlines. I also know you can’t always trust the news.

FROST: Would you look at that, Muriel has a lovely stash of airline liqueurs in her purse…

DR: Although when the news is–

[Frost opens Muriel Jenkins’s purse]

DR: Please, don’t make a patient of mine drink in session.

FROST: But it’s my favorite kind of drink. All the chemistry, none of the calories. I’ll just add a little, clearly already present, alcoholic’s guilt in her morning routine’s memory.

DR: Emma, I won’t talk to you if-

[Emma has Muriel Jenkins drink from one of her travel sized bottles]

FROST: You were saying; something about the news?

[silence]

DR: Reports…of you shooting down an aircraft full of human beings-

FROST: -INhuman beings, darling. And my god, how does anyone expect to get drunk off these? [Emma has Muriel take another drink.] FROST: Now, allow me to clarify something. Firstly, you *are a mutant, yes?

DR: Yes.

FROST: And I know from poking around your husband’s brain that he’s a mutant as well, among other things-

DR: Excuse me?

FROST: -So you’ll allow me to be candid with you, I’m sure, in asking you…Do you know what an Inhuman is?

DR: Ah…yes. Those with Kree ancestry born human, but affected by the Terrigen Mists by way of-

FROST: Very scholastic, but you know that’s not what I mean. Mutant-to-mutant, love. What is an Inhuman?

[Emma has Muriel take another drink.]

FROST: I’ll tell you what a mutant is. The next step. The future of our world. And hated, set aside as “other” because of it. Because of fear. An Inhuman, on the other hand, is a party that the pleural YOU can join! No messy ‘mutation’ to pile onto an already abysmal puberty, rather Terragenesis is the wonderful prize given for being otherwise completely mundane. A change you CHOOSE to become part of so there’s something to fill that deep deep void. Hate your job and wife and sodding kids? Well cross your fingers and pray your ancestors were experimented on by aliens, because you too can become a completely different person overnight! Sounds rather akin to Scientology, don’t you think?

[Emma has Muriel take another drink.]

DR: I’m hearing a lot of anger.

FROST: Oh ding-bloody-ding–These monsters have taken EVERYTHING from me! With everybody watching on slack-jawed and hypnotized by a royal sovereign’s PR machine! Those savages have a piece of my fucking body kept as a TROPHY!

DR: I…feel your…frustrations; obviously. My husband and I were terrified of M-Pox, we didn’t know whether to pull the children out of school, if we should–did you say, “a piece of your body”?

FROST: They’re super-powered cult, and somehow in the name of unbiased news we’ve once again we’ve allowed lunatics normalcy. While perpetuating THEIR lies!? What about the people THEY’VE killed!? If they want to gas us, I say what I’ve done is proper justice!

[silence]

DR: Alright.

[silence]

FROST: Alright!

[silence]

DR: So…do you want to take that again, or can I speak?

FROST: Excuse me? Don’t you think for a second that the rumors might not true, doctor. You have no idea what I can d-

DR: Why are you giving me super villain?

[Muriel (Emma) stands up from my couch, throwing an empty miniature bottle to the floor]

FROST: YOU will learn your PLACE. If you’re going sit there ‘throwing shade’, I will remind you that I am not only the ONLY Queen in this room, but I was the closest thing to the bloody matriarch of the whole damned mutant species!

DR: And I don’t disagree.

FROST: Then maybe you can tell me why I turned into some INSANE BLOODY BACKGROUND FUGITIVE OVERNIGHT!!

DR: Emma-

FROST: And I know I’ve done a hell of a lot of wrong in the past, so maybe I simply deserve it by rite; you don’t have to tell me that! But first you better ring Wanda Maximoff: We can have a 3-way session comparing the pros and cons of genocide vs solving world hunger for a few months - If she’s not too busy doing yoga all across Europe-

DR: 'The Scarlet Witch’ is not a patient of mine-

FROST: I even specifically put the old college try into NOT killing Charles Xavier, for YEARS longer than reasonable, some would very well say!

DR: -but if it’s any consolation-

FROST: If Scott and I got amnesia and snoged Dr. Doom would Captain America have given us a shiny new team as well??

DR: -I agree with you.

FROST: I-……………….

[silence. Muriel (Emma) collects herself.]

FROST: ….I mean, What Is this trend? This sudden surge of affection for some Camelot sideshow-

DR: You don’t need to tell me. You were in my husband’s mind: I’m sure you selected us based on extracting from him memories of us, well, discussing you, often. I dare say he’s a fan.

FROST: Of course, though I didn’t stay long enough to see your feelings through his memory. There was so much affection for you and your children gushing in there that I thought I was going to be sick.

DR: Thank you.

FROST: Clever boy; I’m still holding you hostage though.

DR: To treat you? Treat your anger? Your guilt?

FROST: I never said I felt guilty.

DR: You mentioned feeling deserving or your…status change.

FROST: Watch it.

DR: And you did shoot down a shipload of Inhumans.

FROST: Yes and I would do it again.

[silence]

DR: So then…just your anger?

FROST: Just my…everything.

[silence]

DR: And I’m going to assume that I don’t have a choice.

FROST: Obviously. Especially since I can’t erase your memory of this conversation.

DR: But you’ve made it very clear that you have easy access to anyone in my life.

FROST: So we shouldn’t have any problems with privacy, wouldn’t you say?

[A knock from outside my door can be heard]

FROST: Now shall we set a day and time where you’re meeting with someone more pleasant looking? Though I do enjoy how delightfully vacant Muriel’s head is. Complimentary drinks certainly have their appeal…

[End of recording]

___________________________________________________________________

The next few minutes were somewhat staggering. My next patient cut my recording off by impatiently calling my cell, and suddenly Emma was gone. Then there was a very confused, and very suddenly drunk, Muriel Jenkins to deal with.

Emma left no indication of when I would next hear from her, but I believe her self-conducted intake was a success. My professional opinion was that Ms. Frost was looking for validation, some sign that she’s not completely out of touch with reality for seeing her past few years as an undeserved role reversal. From what I can gather, it seems as though this encounter was a test of how sympathetic I would be to her in her current state. Behind the razor sharp wit and the scowl, she was looking for someone potentially unbiased, someone who would not be intimidated into saying what she deeply wants to hear: Emma was right. Whether I meant to convey that message to her, and whether I’ll regret it, remain to be seen.

I’ve also emailed my current patients to remind them all to never have foreign substances in their system, or on their person, while in session.

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frosttreatment-blog · 8 years ago

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Log 1

As a mental health professional, I keep a log of all my clients, if for no other reason than to maintain proper book-keeping. In particular, I think it essential in treating superabled individuals; legal entanglements seemingly following them whenever they go. While I don’t agree with or condone the actions of Tony Stark’s therapist, I think his libel hearings were an excellent example of the legal responsibility a therapist has to properly document appointments with a person seeking mental health treatment.

And then there’s the difficulty of agreeing to begin treatment with a telepath. Any telepath. Especially one of the most skilled in the known world. The reason telepaths like me is because they can’t read my mind, and I cant read theirs. That’s not to say that I have many telepathic clients; far from it. In my personal experience, telepaths rarely if ever think they need therapy. So I can’t imagine that a well known – and I hate to use the term – “super villain”, is having deep introspection.

Then again, maybe I’m stereotyping.

If I’m to be completely honest, it is most likely important that I state now I have never treated a “villain” before. Without breaching patient confidentiality, I can state that I have treated reformed criminals before, and I also have unfortunately seen past clients make a very public turn for the worse; but I think it goes without saying that my performing an intake with someone while she is wanted for mass murder is clearly uncharted territory.

Which of course brings me to the other reason for my writing this: to have time-marked evidence of my being coerced against my will, by Emma Frost, into meeting with her.

It was never my intention to meet with Emma Frost, nor was it my intention for my partner and two children to be threatened by my rather mild mannered profession, but one begat the other during dinner Sunday night. From what I can only assume was a nearby location, she entered my husband’s mind to initiate contact with me. What immediately struck me was that fork and knife both remained in his hands as he suddenly donned an English inflection and informed me that my services were needed. With little more than a curt introduction, Ms. Frost made no implication of intent to harm me or my family, but nevertheless the situation left me with little room for negotiation.

Still, I calmly insisted on proper procedure, citing the simple truth that an intake session would be needed to first evaluate if therapy with is indeed the correct course of action. Obviously I can already tell you that my medical opinion will not be to engage in treatment under these circumstances, which brings me to my other reason for writing this: I need evidence for myself, that these events have actually taken place, in case I suddenly find myself without the memory of them…or worse.

Once Ms. Frost had, for lack of a better term, made an appointment with me - contacting me through my husband’s central nervous system - my husband resumed telling me about his day at work as if nothing alarming had just happened. The kids are both too young to have properly registered it, and I’m ashamed to admit that I chose to finish listening to the office politics and gossip from the Mutant Outreach Offices at the LBGT Center, and did not inform my husband that his mind and body had been hijacked mid-story. I still have not.

I did this because, while my mind is in impenetrable to telepaths, I must now act under the assumption that everyone around me is under surveillance. The effortless expertise in which Ms. Frost left my husband completely unaware of her interruption during our family dinner left me not wanting to consider the possible ramifications of giving anyone around me anything to think about.

But that does not leave me to assume I’m safe. Far from it; which is why I’m keeping this private log, in case anything should happen to me or I suddenly find myself unable to remember my own name.

The last thing she said was that she would be in touch, after a remark about hoping I don’t mind “walk-ins”. My blood runs cold every time I think about it.

God help me. God help the mental health professional who has to do an intake for Emma Frost.

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