icecoldfrost: (pure ambition)
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Candy asked for the fifth time as her fingers danced through Emma's hair, weaving the strands into a complex updo. "I mean, are you sure-sure?"

"I dropped off their radar seven weeks ago, have had Frost International up and running and ready to go public for six months, bought my building out from under them two years ago, fired the super that was spying on me yesterday," Emma replied as she expertly applied her eyeliner, "--and sent in my notice over email this morning. If I'm not ready now, Candy-cane, I might as well roll over and play dead."

You can have anything in life if you will sacrifice everything else for it. -- J.M. Barrie )

[OOC: NFB, NFI, OOC welcome.]
icecoldfrost: (legs!)
In the end, it proved far too easy to lose track of time. Six in the evening found Emma up against the wall, her wrists pinned above her head by one of Jack's hands (and his new six inches totally dirty), and otherwise preoccupied when there was a flash of light and the world tilted sideways for a moment.

The next thing Emma knew, she was on the floor of her apartment in Bed-Stuy, the rumpled shirt she'd been wearing when she'd gone to sleep on Friday night in a heap next to her.


[OOC: NFB, Open for calls or texts, sure.]
icecoldfrost: (long hard night)
Emma Frost was bored, desperately needed a study break, and had beat all the levels of Angry Birds on her phone.

No, let's back that up and tell the truth: Emma Frost was lonely, drunk - she'd stolen a bottle of 151 from the store since she couldn't afford to buy it - and bored. She'd finished her homework for the week, and her readings, and there weren't any grad students doing experiments going on at the psych labs to watch.

...what? You had your entertainments, and Emma had hers. And she didn't have a television.

Which was why she was currently drunk-calling/texting people while cutting out the articles from the various society pages about the Thankful Virtues event. Especially the ones that mentioned her.

[OOC: Open post! If you think she called or texted you, she did.]
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: (Default)
Emma Grace Frost

September 2016

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