icecoldfrost: (girls' night out)
It was the end of J-Term for ESU. A time when students tended to celebrate being half-way through the year, the grueling schedule of a J-Term behind them, and the rumors of an East Coast Spring on the horizon.

For two - very tipsy - young ladies in Bed-Stuy by the names of Emma Grace Frost and Candace 'Candy' Southern, however, it was a time to drunk-dial or Skype everyone they knew, so that they could wave their temporary diplomas at them. Or, in Emma's case, three of her four diplomas.

[OOC: Open for calls, texts, and Skype sessions, if you think Emma would call you to gloat.]
icecoldfrost: (pure ambition)
Time had been moving a bit faster for Emma than it was currently running at Fandom, for today, for her, was Friday before fall break, and the day that she - and the rest of the MBA students - had been waiting for impatiently.

It was the day they found out where they'd be interning for second semester. The holy grail of the MBA program. So of course, Professor Carlson was making them all as miserable as possible, and reading off the list in alphabetical order... of the company, not the students. Not that it was causing Emma (much) distress. She already knew where she was going, so she was mentally planning a shopping trip and half-listening.

"...Nishimura International," Carlson droned, and she sat up a little straighter, a bright smile on her lips and her hands folded demurely on her desk. "...Ryan Choi and Frank Poole."

Wait, what?

"Professor, there's been a mistake," Emma broke in smoothly, her smile not faltering an iota. "Mr. Nishimura took me out to lunch last week to personally congratulate me on getting the position."

"So that's what they're calling it these days, 'getting the position.' More like getting into the position," one of the guys behind her whispered, and half the class sniggered behind their hands. "'Personally,'" someone else added, which set off another round of snickering.

Emma hated everything.

"You're correct, Miss Frost, you were the original choice for Nishimura International," Professor Carlson agreed, ignoring Emma's detractors. "Given that Mr. Nishimura apparently felt free to spill the beans early, your interruption is understandable and forgivable."

"However, we had a few latecomers to the party, companies that don't normally partake in our program but are branching out this year." He looked down his list until he found what he was looking for, and nodded. "You were requested for Shaw Industrial. Apparently they're interested in the proposal of developing and funding alternative energy sources that you wrote last year. They requested we reassign you, and Nishimura International was kind enough to agree, on the condition we give them two people to make up for losing you."

"Shaw Industries? Who'd she have to fuck to get that?" she could hear one of her classmates - Dan-something - whisper to one of his friends. "There's no way she was qualified for that or Nishimura."

Sometimes, Emma really hated being the only woman in this class, and wished she'd waited to take it until Candy could too. A lot. Shaw Industries was fantastic, just as good as Nishimura International, but all she could hear now were the psychic whispers about how she got the job. Some were genuinely curious, respectful if jealous, a few didn't care - they'd know their parents were buying them their positions - but some of her classmates were getting...ugly. Emma kept a pleasant expression and her hands folded, looking neither right or left, throughout the rest of the mental torture-session. The moment the bell rang, she picked up her bag, tucked her hair behind her ear, and sauntered out.

It wasn't until she got back to the safety of her apartment, door closed behind her, that Emma allowed herself to crack, just a bit, letting her smooth composure drop, and once she was in the shower, she could pretend it didn't hurt, that she hadn't worked hard for this, that she wasn't crying. She wasn't.

Afterwards, clean and refreshed, she fired off a text to Jack letting him know that his room was about to be occupied. Because Emma was considerate that way, and right now, she'd rather spend the fall break in Fandom than alone in her apartment.

[OOC: Open for calls or texts before she heads to Fandom for the weekend.]
icecoldfrost: (I can kill you with my mind)
Classes were done for the day, and while normally Emma would be doing some stupid group team-building project with the other students in her human development class, she was skipping whatever stupid feel-good heart-to-heart nonsense the teacher had come up with this week. With an excuse! ...kinda! Candy was coming over once she was finished with work tonight so they could practice for summer internship interviews. Which meant Emma was putting away her groceries and prepping to make an utterly ridiculously large amount of tacos.

Look, she and Candy were growing girls. And they were not going to give in to the self-hate of the American media and body-image magazines. Because tacos. They were not just necessary to live, but to deal with the stupidity of the human race and their male counterparts who were jostling for the same jobs and complaining about how it was 'unfair' that the girls had the 'advantage' of being female.

No, Emma hadn't been experimenting to see if she'd suddenly developed psychokinesis last week in class, why did you ask? Really. Setting someone on fire with her brain, while potentially therapeutic, wasn't actually helpful.

Yet.

[OOC: Open for calls, texts, you know the drill.]
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: (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.]

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Emma Grace Frost

September 2016

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