Stripping paint, sure, but that sort of glare didn't cow Emerson. His mother was Emma Frost, after all.
"Oh, I wasn't alarmed," Emerson said. He wasn't a lesser intellect either, thanks. He glanced down at the ibuprofen he was holding, shrugged, and set it down on the counter. The student could wait. He pulled himself up on the counter and watched Josephine, amused.
"But I'll accept the whole just-a-giant-nerd thing. I respect it, even." Emerson himself could usually be found tinkering around with some electronic something when he had free time. Currently, it was an attempt to refurbish Colosso.
"So what sciencey thing are you madding up?" he asked.