icecoldfrost: (cherry lips and)
Given that whatever holiday plans Emma would have made for herself had been thwarted by Portalocity, she had two options:

Twinkies and Hamburger Helper with Hank, whom she'd have to remind that it was Thanksgiving, or accepting an invitation to the Hellfire Club's annual - and tre exclusive - Thankful Virtues Costume Ball & Charity Dinner, which had arrived in the mail at her PO box. Hello, she lived in Brooklyn. Like hell she had anything important sent to her apartment.

And no, staying home alone and eating pasta with basil and balsamic vinegar for dinner (again) was not an option, which meant that Emma Grace Frost needed a dress. Which her student lifestyle would not afford her.

So, Emma had done what Emma did best, waltzed into the most exclusive stores downtown, the type that only carried ONE of each dress, and when she finally found something she liked, she stole it using her powers.

Rather like she had for another party, many years ago, which had set her on the path to Fandom in the first place and was why she was here today. Although that one hadn't *technically* been a Hellfire affair.

So now she was standing at the top of the grand staircase of the New York Hellfire Club, waiting to be announced and trying to resist adjusting the sheer veil covering her face and hair. She'd take it off later for dinner, but she had an entrance to make.

"Miss Emma Grace Frost," the steward intoned, and Emma's chin went up imperceptibly as she stepped forward. "Representing the virtue of 'Chastity.'"

Oh, the irony. It was strong here, amongst the rich and privileged members of the elite, all of whom had come costumed as 'Humility,' 'Temperance,' or 'Frugality.'

Look, she hadn't seen her boyfriend in far too long. She could be a bitch and make the entire damn club look and not touch if she wanted to. Considering some of the other costumes floating around, she was downright demure tonight.

This was, after all, the Hellfire Club. This might be one of the semi-public parties open to non-members, but that only meant that the more salacious bits were taking place behind closed doors.

For now.

[OOC: Open in the OCD for calls/texts/etc. NFB, as usual.]
icecoldfrost: (The White Queen)
"This is not acceptable!" a dark-haired woman shouted as a vase met an untimely end against a wall. "There is a telepath in New York; a young, female psion of great promise, we've known about her for years, and you've done nothing to reel her in as you said you would, Shaw. She should be mine by now."

We upset her tidy little sense of safety at that boarding school of hers by leaking her location to the sister, and in the process learned a great deal about what Miss Frost is willing to do in the name of self-preservation )

"Now," --a serving girl entered, eyes on the floor as she carried a tray with a bottle of wine and glasses to her masters. "Let's work on real business, Selene, and cease your tantrum. How goes your 'Nova Roma' project?"

[OOC: Emma's been cut-off Portalocity-wise as of this post! Phone/email still work (for now) but no one's getting in or out of her universe.]
icecoldfrost: (hard at work)
It had been the best place Emma could find with the little she could afford as rent and her unwillingness to have a stranger as a roommate. Sure, in ten years Bed-Stuy was going to be very hip, but this was now, and it was still Brooklyn. And it was still costing her a fortune at $650 a month. At least the brownstone her studio was in was in good repair, and Emma's little room had recently been redone, with new paint and windows, to better block out the noise of the street.

And despite the fact she'd only been there a few weeks, there were books everywhere. Emma was taking a double course load - again - and was doing her best to ignore the increasingly distracting texts that Jack kept sending her so she could focus on writing her paper on Dewey's philosophy of education against current teaching trends.

Yes, this is what she did for fun. And maths. Maybe it wasn't too late to add a maths class...

[OOC: Open for calls, texts, and an unexpected visitor!]
icecoldfrost: (hard at work)
The fact of the matter was that college was fucking expensive, and while Emma's investments were by no means depleted, her checking account had dipped precariously low more than once. Point of fact, she currently had $25 to her name, and that had to feed her for the next two weeks, when a few stocks she'd been nursing would be ripe to sell.


Someone was going to be pulling a few telepathic dine-n-dashes for the next few days. )

"I'll bring you a teal deer DNA sample."

There was a pause, then; "That's not fair, Emma."

"Never said I play fair, Big Blue."

[OOC:  NFB, phonecalls, texts OK, but am AFK & pinging from iPod after 5pm CST]


icecoldfrost: (emma is sleepy!)
Since Jack didn't really have anywhere else to stay, they had gotten back to Emma's dorm late last night. Emma had checked to make sure the coast was clear before sneaking him in, since she didn't want to have to deal with signing in a visitor from another universe.

Jack had taken the spare bed, and they'd collapsed into them like two teenagers grateful to be back in the modern era.

That, however, was last night. Now the sun was starting to peek through the windows, and the sounds of people returning from winter break were echoing in the hallway outside their room.
icecoldfrost: (telepathic high)
Emma had another two weeks of winter break from ESU, so she'd been staying with Hank, helping the scientist with both his projects and some telepathic therapy to recover his memories. Bit-by-bit they were getting there, but whatever trauma Hank had undergone had been monstrous, and while Emma had been mastering her powers in leaps and bounds over the last three years, there was still much she had to learn.

She'd been fast asleep on the couch in her 'room' down in the tunnels when she started awake, the newspaper she'd been reading falling to the floor as she barely managed not to follow it. That same vague sense of wrongness was back, but different. Like there was something missing, and Emma reflexively reached out to check the telepathic links she had to her friends before remembering she was a world and years away; there was no way she'd get an accurate response from any of them at this distance.

Fuck. There was no reason she should be awake at this hour if it did not contain some vice or another. Or fucking statistics homework.

She went fumbling for her coat and boots - it was January in New York, after all - so that she could head up to the surface. First, check the early edition, and make sure it wasn't some disaster here. Second, find a Western Union or something. Third, wait until a semi-decent hour, and casually text a few people.

The last time this had happened, people had vanished. And Emma still couldn't get through to Peter's cell - but she brushed that fear aside. She was a Frost, and she did not curl up and fret. She was, however, possibly going to start kicking people in the shins.

[OOC: In response to this. Open for calls/texts/telegrams/etc that are not set in the pre-dawn hours. :)]
icecoldfrost: (street rat)
Some people coped with bad news with shopping therapy, or chocolate, bad movies, or being anti-social. Not Emma. Emma wanted to be with people.

You would then think that if Emma Grace Frost was going to have guests, she'd take them out somewhere special, somewhere nice. Show off the city she loved so much. Maybe around ESU, if she was feeling lazy, but it was well-known how much Emma adored the glitz and glamor of the Upper East Side. Manhattan was her kingdom.

Most people would not expect to find Emma Frost in horribly seedy bowling alley on a back-street somewhere near Yankee Stadium, dressed in ripped jeans and a metal t-shirt, chugging something that passed as beer and punching the console to make it set-up a game.

Pity the poor fool she had dragged with her. "I should type you in as 'Sparky.'"

[OOC: For that one dude.]
icecoldfrost: (street rat)
Some people coped with bad news with shopping therapy, or chocolate, bad movies, or being anti-social. Not Emma. Emma wanted to be with people.

You would then think that if Emma Grace Frost was going to have guests, she'd take them out somewhere special, somewhere nice. Show off the city she loved so much. Maybe around ESU, if she was feeling lazy, but it was well-known how much Emma adored the glitz and glamor of the Upper East Side. Manhattan was her kingdom.

Most people would not expect to find Emma Frost in horribly seedy bowling alley on a back-street somewhere near Yankee Stadium, dressed in ripped jeans and a metal t-shirt, chugging something that passed as beer and punching the console to make it set-up a game.

Pity the poor fool she had dragged with her. "I should type you in as 'Sparky.'"

[OOC: For that one dude.]
icecoldfrost: (I can see inside your mind)
Emma was in the middle of her kickboxing class when she was just struck with the sense of - for lack of a better term - wrong. She couldn't sense anything with her powers to account for it, it was just... like a voice over an intercom where you couldn't make out the words, or a popular song with two notes out-of-tune. Or a ripple in a lake with no source. Nothing she could articulate, just...wrong. Echos of nails on a chalkboard and why couldn't she place this damned -

- Of course, the middle of kickboxing class was generally not a good place for one get hit by nebulous feelings of doom and dread, and the next thing Emma knew, she was on the floor, her sparring partner shrilly apologizing over and over, and her classmates hovering.

"Please stay down, Frost," the the cute coach was saying, even as things swam in circles around her. "You might have a concussion, and you've got a bloody nose. Can you tell me how many fingers I'm holding up?"

"Three, my name is Emma Grace Frost, I am about to turn nineteen years old next month, this is Kickboxing for Beginners, and Ellen there just nailed me on the side of the head," Emma said crossly. "That wasn't the move we were supposed to be practicing."

"But you always seem to know what I'm going to do next!" Ellen wailed, looking distraught. "I didn't think it would hurt to try something new!"

"Ellen, go get Emma some ice," the teacher sighed. "Fine, no concussion. But take it easy the rest of the day, okay? I'd skip any other classes today if I were you, and I'll give you a note in case your other professors raise a fuss."

That was perfectly fine with Emma. She was just going to hole up in her now single-room with an ice pack and a large mug of tea, and try to resist the urge to call Kerrigan or Sookie or Karla like a frightened child. She was Emma Frost, dammit. She wasn't going to go running to other people over a mild spook like this.

....start randomly texting, maybe. But at least it was something to focus on that wasn't homework, and now she could do it without worrying about a roommate catching her.

[OOC: NFB, Open for calls, texts, what-have-you.]
icecoldfrost: (I can see inside your mind)
Emma was in the middle of her kickboxing class when she was just struck with the sense of - for lack of a better term - wrong. She couldn't sense anything with her powers to account for it, it was just... like a voice over an intercom where you couldn't make out the words, or a popular song with two notes out-of-tune. Or a ripple in a lake with no source. Nothing she could articulate, just...wrong. Echos of nails on a chalkboard and why couldn't she place this damned -

- Of course, the middle of kickboxing class was generally not a good place for one get hit by nebulous feelings of doom and dread, and the next thing Emma knew, she was on the floor, her sparring partner shrilly apologizing over and over, and her classmates hovering.

"Please stay down, Frost," the the cute coach was saying, even as things swam in circles around her. "You might have a concussion, and you've got a bloody nose. Can you tell me how many fingers I'm holding up?"

"Three, my name is Emma Grace Frost, I am about to turn nineteen years old next month, this is Kickboxing for Beginners, and Ellen there just nailed me on the side of the head," Emma said crossly. "That wasn't the move we were supposed to be practicing."

"But you always seem to know what I'm going to do next!" Ellen wailed, looking distraught. "I didn't think it would hurt to try something new!"

"Ellen, go get Emma some ice," the teacher sighed. "Fine, no concussion. But take it easy the rest of the day, okay? I'd skip any other classes today if I were you, and I'll give you a note in case your other professors raise a fuss."

That was perfectly fine with Emma. She was just going to hole up in her now single-room with an ice pack and a large mug of tea, and try to resist the urge to call Kerrigan or Sookie or Karla like a frightened child. She was Emma Frost, dammit. She wasn't going to go running to other people over a mild spook like this.

....start randomly texting, maybe. But at least it was something to focus on that wasn't homework, and now she could do it without worrying about a roommate catching her.

[OOC: NFB, Open for calls, texts, what-have-you.]
icecoldfrost: (when I grow up (I'll turn the tables))
It seemed that Emma's future was catching up to her present.

She'd gotten a huge migraine a few days before, the likes of which she hadn't had to deal with since her manifestation, and today... today it was taking all her willpower not to tweak a few brains.

Haven't you heard? Some star athlete in California was revealed to be a mutant )

Which is why it was no surprise to anyone that knew her that Emma would take refuge in the library. Or, that once she'd found a secluded corner, that she'd whip out her Blackberry and start texting people.

Fucking bigots. Screw this, she was going back for Homecoming.

[OOC: NFB, open for calls, texts, etc. Chunks of text, characters, & plot swiped from Emma Frost, Issue 14, "Bloom," Part 2 of 6.]
icecoldfrost: (when I grow up (I'll turn the tables))
It seemed that Emma's future was catching up to her present.

She'd gotten a huge migraine a few days before, the likes of which she hadn't had to deal with since her manifestation, and today... today it was taking all her willpower not to tweak a few brains.

Haven't you heard? Some star athlete in California was revealed to be a mutant )

Which is why it was no surprise to anyone that knew her that Emma would take refuge in the library. Or, that once she'd found a secluded corner, that she'd whip out her Blackberry and start texting people.

Fucking bigots. Screw this, she was going back for Homecoming.

[OOC: NFB, open for calls, texts, etc. Chunks of text, characters, & plot swiped from Emma Frost, Issue 14, "Bloom," Part 2 of 6.]
icecoldfrost: (hard at work)
Unlike Fandom, the roof of the student dormitories at ESU were closed to students, and they were forbidden from going up there.

Then again, Emma Frost hadn't gotten as far as she had by paying any attention to rules.

It was a gorgeous day, sunny and bright and warm as she laid out her blanket on the roof where no one could see her. She had her cigarettes, her lighter, her phone, and the utter PILE of homework she had for her classes. Taking the accelerated Danger Shop courses had allowed her to test out of many of her general education classes that most freshmen had to take, and with the sheer amount of credits she was taking right now, she might be finished in two years, if she kept her grades up and maintained the grueling pace she'd set for herself. Even with two majors and a minor.

At the rate she was going, she was going to have enough classes to count as an engineering minor, too.

Even the most studious girl needed a break from the library - and all the deliciously info-packed-yet-incredibly-shallow brains that occupied it, which was why she'd sought refuge up here today. She could smoke, study for midterms, and not need to worry about hiding her Blackberry, dammit. She could text if she wanted to!

[OOC: NFB, open for calls/texts/etc]
icecoldfrost: (hard at work)
Unlike Fandom, the roof of the student dormitories at ESU were closed to students, and they were forbidden from going up there.

Then again, Emma Frost hadn't gotten as far as she had by paying any attention to rules.

It was a gorgeous day, sunny and bright and warm as she laid out her blanket on the roof where no one could see her. She had her cigarettes, her lighter, her phone, and the utter PILE of homework she had for her classes. Taking the accelerated Danger Shop courses had allowed her to test out of many of her general education classes that most freshmen had to take, and with the sheer amount of credits she was taking right now, she might be finished in two years, if she kept her grades up and maintained the grueling pace she'd set for herself. Even with two majors and a minor.

At the rate she was going, she was going to have enough classes to count as an engineering minor, too.

Even the most studious girl needed a break from the library - and all the deliciously info-packed-yet-incredibly-shallow brains that occupied it, which was why she'd sought refuge up here today. She could smoke, study for midterms, and not need to worry about hiding her Blackberry, dammit. She could text if she wanted to!

[OOC: NFB, open for calls/texts/etc]
icecoldfrost: (a shadow of something whole)
Emma hadn't meant to stay out so late shopping, she really hadn't. Once she'd realized it was almost nine, she'd hurried for her portal, ducking down the safer shortcuts that she still knew like the back of her hand. New York was her city, and that knowledge gave Emma the confidence to hurry along, less than mindful of her surroundings than she would have been anywhere else.

When she'd tripped over something, she just swore at herself for not watching the sidewalk more carefully, and set about picking up her bags. She didn't pay any mind to the two men walking past her; at least, not until the turned around and grabbed her.

The last thing she remembered, she hadn't even had time to scream or shift before a cloth was pressed over her face, and the chloroform kicked in. )

[OOC: General warning for disturbing shit and abuse of authority. Establishy. NFB, NFI, OOC = OK.]
icecoldfrost: (a shadow of something whole)
Emma hadn't meant to stay out so late shopping, she really hadn't. Once she'd realized it was almost nine, she'd hurried for her portal, ducking down the safer shortcuts that she still knew like the back of her hand. New York was her city, and that knowledge gave Emma the confidence to hurry along, less than mindful of her surroundings than she would have been anywhere else.

When she'd tripped over something, she just swore at herself for not watching the sidewalk more carefully, and set about picking up her bags. She didn't pay any mind to the two men walking past her; at least, not until the turned around and grabbed her.

The last thing she remembered, she hadn't even had time to scream or shift before a cloth was pressed over her face, and the chloroform kicked in. )

[OOC: General warning for disturbing shit and abuse of authority. Establishy. NFB, NFI, OOC = OK.]
icecoldfrost: (more than you think)
"Aren't you done yet?" Emma's head poked out of a manhole drop, upside down as she looked at Hank. "Hank, I've been here three days, and you've had it for a week."

"I am a geneticist, Miss Frost, not an engineer." Hank pushed his safety goggles up onto his hair and frowned at her. "Where did you get this, young lady?"

"From someone at school," she answered evasively, tossing her pack to the floor and quickly jumping down after it. "Hey, I picked up some Spagetti-Os and a box of Twinkies. Your favorites."

"And how many poor saps did you con at pool to get my groceries?" he asked, picking up the arm or the armor and waggling it at her accusingly. "Shame on you, Emma."

"I don't need to hustle anyone to pay for our food anymore, Hank, with or without my powers," Emma retorted, already putting the groceries away. "With the investments I've made in the past two years, I've already got enough stashed away to pay for my first two years of college, if I'm careful."

"...but parting a bunch of fools from their money is a public service - and entertaining - and I could use the extra cash for rent once I graduate from Fandom," she admitted, sitting down in her chair to carefully count out the change. "Or at least enough money to rent a PO box, so I have a legitimate mailing address."

"You could, actually, get a job," Hank suggest dryly, pulling down his goggles and going back to work on the suit. "It would be a legitimate source of income, and I hear they help build character."

Emma made a face. "Quite a few people would tell you that I have more than enough character," she complained, but finished putting away Hank's food supplies for the next two weeks before wandering over and pulling up a stool. "So. Have you figured out enough yet to tell me how this works?"

[OOC: Establishy, NFB, phone or text OK.]
icecoldfrost: (more than you think)
"Aren't you done yet?" Emma's head poked out of a manhole drop, upside down as she looked at Hank. "Hank, I've been here three days, and you've had it for a week."

"I am a geneticist, Miss Frost, not an engineer." Hank pushed his safety goggles up onto his hair and frowned at her. "Where did you get this, young lady?"

"From someone at school," she answered evasively, tossing her pack to the floor and quickly jumping down after it. "Hey, I picked up some Spagetti-Os and a box of Twinkies. Your favorites."

"And how many poor saps did you con at pool to get my groceries?" he asked, picking up the arm or the armor and waggling it at her accusingly. "Shame on you, Emma."

"I don't need to hustle anyone to pay for our food anymore, Hank, with or without my powers," Emma retorted, already putting the groceries away. "With the investments I've made in the past two years, I've already got enough stashed away to pay for my first two years of college, if I'm careful."

"...but parting a bunch of fools from their money is a public service - and entertaining - and I could use the extra cash for rent once I graduate from Fandom," she admitted, sitting down in her chair to carefully count out the change. "Or at least enough money to rent a PO box, so I have a legitimate mailing address."

"You could, actually, get a job," Hank suggest dryly, pulling down his goggles and going back to work on the suit. "It would be a legitimate source of income, and I hear they help build character."

Emma made a face. "Quite a few people would tell you that I have more than enough character," she complained, but finished putting away Hank's food supplies for the next two weeks before wandering over and pulling up a stool. "So. Have you figured out enough yet to tell me how this works?"

[OOC: Establishy, NFB, phone or text OK.]
icecoldfrost: (more than you think)
Emma had warned Jack to wear something he didn't mind getting a bit dirty in, but she didn't bother to confirm his suspicions, even after they'd slipped past a grate and down a tunnel, eventually taking a labyrinth set of twists, turns, and ladders.

It wasn't that she didn't trust Jack. It was just what you did down here.

"Hank?" she eventually called, stepping from a tunnel into a space that was actually brightly lit and clean. "I brought a friend, like you said I could."

Well, he'd said 'bring that boy sometime,' but close enough.

[OOC: NFB, for the person with her.]
icecoldfrost: (more than you think)
Emma had warned Jack to wear something he didn't mind getting a bit dirty in, but she didn't bother to confirm his suspicions, even after they'd slipped past a grate and down a tunnel, eventually taking a labyrinth set of twists, turns, and ladders.

It wasn't that she didn't trust Jack. It was just what you did down here.

"Hank?" she eventually called, stepping from a tunnel into a space that was actually brightly lit and clean. "I brought a friend, like you said I could."

Well, he'd said 'bring that boy sometime,' but close enough.

[OOC: NFB, for the person with her.]

Profile

icecoldfrost: (Default)
Emma Grace Frost

September 2016

S M T W T F S
    123
45678910
11121314151617
1819 2021222324
252627282930 

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Aug. 17th, 2017 03:28 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios