New York City, Marvelverse-616 circa 2001, Monday Night

[icecoldfrost]

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.]

Comments

[furnaceface]

"Yes," Jono noted, his tone deceptively dry, if somewhat muffled behind that upturned collar to the coat that he was still refusing to take off. "I certainly can see how 'Sparky' would be a completely accurate nickname, these days."

Jubilee had beaten you to that one years ago, Emma.

"But, I suppose if it makes you happy..." He made a reach for his own so-called beer, and just kind of held on to it for a moment. He could drink it, but it was American piss, and so he was trying to put off the experience for as long as possible.

[icecoldfrost]

"I know you think it's American piss, it is utter piss, but drink it to make me happy so that I'm not getting drunk alone," Emma quipped, having absolutely no shame in reading his mind. "You are clearly having such a sparkling good time, which is why you get Sparky."

A beat.

"And I'm older than Jubilee, so technically I came up with it first. Now take off your damned coat."

[furnaceface]

Emma, your logic was absolutely impeccable. Jono rolled his eyes a little, but gave in all the same, setting down his piss and working his way out of his coat, showing off the black, fairly tight t-shirt that he wore underneath.

"You know, I don't know why I'm even bothering to say things aloud," he shared, casually, as he deposited his coat on the seat and leaned over to look at the console. "Except I think I'd go utterly mad if I didn't."

Sparky. Sigh.

[icecoldfrost]

"Your mental patterns do not show any signs of degradation that are usually associated with madness," Emma offered, totally helpfully. "Although if I have enough of these-" which would be a LOT, "--I won't even notice if you're bothering with being verbal or not."

"We could freak out the locals and just talk telepathically all night, be the Children of the Corn. While bowling."

[furnaceface]

Cults, crosses, and red-eyed monsters. Jono had lost his taste for that particular story over the years, for various reasons, but he offered Emma a bit of a smile all the same.

"They'd certainly keep their distance, if we did," he noted. "I mean, more than they're liable to already, I suppose."

Youths with alcohol and bowling balls. They were absolutely a force to be reckoned with.

[icecoldfrost]

Please. Someday she'd have a batch of identical girls following her about, and Emma would still find the jokes funny.

"Are you saying I'm a reckless, destructive drunk armed with a bowling ball?" Emma asked, pressing a hand to her heart. "I'm hurt, Starsmore, really."

"I need more to drink to get to that point."

[furnaceface]

"And the night is still young," Jono pointed out, lifting his beer and giving her a smile that wasn't even remotely apologetic. "I'll try to keep you from throwing the ball in utterly the wrong direction if you get to that point, luv. But," he took a swig of his beer, and by some miracle managed not to make a face, "I make no promises."

[icecoldfrost]

"You could buy us better drinks?" Emma suggested, as the ancient ball-return machine clacked to life. "I'm on a freshman budget, but you can at least have something that won't make you throw-up."

She was pretty sure that wasn't something on his bucket-list of things to do now that he had the lower portion of his face back.

Emma slammed the rest of her beer, making a face afterward as she got up and picked out a ball. "Hope you don't mind," she said, giving him a wink. "I decided to let ladies go first."

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand - four pins down! Hope you didn't think she was any good at this, Jono.

[furnaceface]

Jono didn't seem too terribly concerned. He wasn't here to bowl so much as to keep himself unwound now that the world wasn't falling apart. If he was here acting like an idiot alongside Emma, he wouldn't have a chance to start brooding.

See, Emma? Actively looking for reasons not to mope. That was almost like improvement, if you squinted.

"That was a... good go of it," he offered, smirking a little as he glanced toward the bar, contemplating just what they had on tap that wasn't brewed using urine. "You could probably take those others there down on a spare, if you spun it right."

[icecoldfrost]

TOTALLY an improvement! Emma would take it.

"But it's a bowling ball, you throw it," Emma replied, crinkling up her nose as she side-eyed Jono with suspicion. "You can't spin it like in pool."

"Can you?"

[furnaceface]

"This isn't shotput, Emma," Jono replied, smirking faintly. "You're going for accuracy, not to prove that you can throw it the hardest. And I'm here to tell you that you can, in fact, put a hook on a bowling ball."

Jono had gotten pretty good at throwing things, over the years. When you didn't necessarily want to blow big messy holes in people with your face, you learned how to pick things up and chuck them with surprising accuracy.

"It's mostly about how you hold your wrist," he offered.

[icecoldfrost]

You understand, Jono, that it is entirely your own fault that Emma was now poking about in your brain, looking for how to bowl.

"Winston did not feel bowling or billiards were appropriate activities for young ladies," she said idly, hefting her ball and trying to incorporate what she was picking from his brain. "So I'm a bit behind the learning curve."

[furnaceface]

Jono had his suspicions that she was rooting around in there, and made a bit of a face, wondering if the technical knowledge was all it took, or if she was going to need to work up that physical coordination, too.

There was a definite improvement on the way the ball rolled this time around. Hm.

"How fortunate that you're such a fast learner," he noted, idly. "Of course, I'm not so bent on winning that I wouldn't have just shown you, you know."

Was that a blossoming case of powers envy? You betcha.

[icecoldfrost]

It was one thing to 'know' how to do it, but even with her semester of kickboxing under her belt, Emma could stand to build some more muscle. It was better, but not as good as it would have been with muscle memory behind it.

"What would be the challenge in that?" Emma asked, smirking at him as she flopped into one of the chairs.

[furnaceface]

Well, for a start, it would make Jono feel like less of a telepathically neutered ex-mutant who hadn't been very good at it in the first place. Which was a notion that he entertained for only a heartbeat before he set his thoughts firmly on the game, and the beer, and anything that didn't drag him too far into that pit of self-pity.

"There's a good question," he intoned as he stood and selected a ball. "After all, it isn't as though people spend years working on their game. Clearly everyone is a professional once they've had a single lesson."

He didn't wait for a reply before making a few steps toward the lane, throwing the ball, and watching it take down all but one pin. He'd have to take that down in the spare, apparently. Blast.

[icecoldfrost]

"Don't start," Emma groaned, covering her eyes dramatically. "We survived the end of the world, Starsmore. Tonight is fun and repression. And alcohol. I think I want more alcohol."

[furnaceface]

"And I'll get you more alcohol just as soon as it's your turn again," Jono replied, stepping back to take another ball. "I'm going to take my bloody spare before I go spare."

Which, really, wouldn't take much.

One of these days, he was going to have to suck it up and learn how to block out telepaths who decided to go rooting about in his head without his permission. You'd think he'd be decent at it, but there had always been other things on the go, or he'd been more concerned about keeping his own power in than he'd been about keeping other people out. It wasn't anything personal, Emma. It was just that being aware of the plundering of his bowling technique had kind of reminded him of his own powers loss in the first place, and he was left feeling blind and deaf and failing at ignoring the quiet in his own head.

He straightened up, frowning thoughtfully at the ball that was halfway down the lane before he'd realized he'd thrown it. It took out the pin neatly, and he shook his head, dusting his hands off before crossing his arms over his chest.

"Any requests?"

Such as getting his brain to shut up? Which would probably take a few more drinks.

[icecoldfrost]

"If you don't want me listening--" Peeking, Emma, you were peeking, "--just say so. You never used to care," she grumbled, but clapped when he hit the solitary pin. "Shots. I don't care of what, but shots."

[furnaceface]

He didn't care before, no, but he used to have potential before, too. Which was a thought that he was clamping down on firmly because, as she'd said, they were here for denial and drinking and acting like idiots, and brooding wasn't very conducive to any of the above.

"Shots it is, then," he replied, with a bit of forced cheer behind it. "You take your turn, I'll order something that won't rot our livers out before the night is through, while still getting the job done."

... Having a liver to worry about was pretty awesome, though.