icecoldfrost | 33 Apocalpyse Avenue, Tuesday.

Emma was packing.

Well, no, that was a lie. Emma had attempted to pack. Emma had her suitcases open on the bed in her room and stuff flung everywhere. There was a trail of things she'd dropped all over the hallway, from where she'd rescued them from Jack's room or the room they shared, or the kitchen, or-- but she just didn't understand how so many of her things from New York had ended up here, or how much she'd had here in the first place, or how she was supposed to get it all to fit back into two suitcases. No matter what she did, she couldn't make it fit, and it was driving her up the wall.

Which meant it was time for a break, before she started making lists and color-coding things, or ended up just donating everything but her favorites and going shopping to distract her from her own brain. Emma had grabbed her sword and headed out to the front yard, taking up a stance amongst the other residents of their address. Footwork drills without knocking anyone over, and then attacks to see how many she could 'kill' before they reappeared the next day.

It was rather soothing, actually, the way the damn things kept coming back. No matter how the residents of 33 Apocalpyse Avenue changed, the zombie gnomes stayed the same.

[OOC: Open house, open post!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She could always start with, So Jack and I had this talk... and go from there?

"I'd suggest you send some of it ahead, but I've seen your apartment. There's no way it would fit," Karla teased. "At least, not with what's already there. Are you leaving some on the island or reselling to thrift shops. Your wardrobe would make some poor girl incredibly happy to find in the stacks."

"Oh god, real estate, I need to start looking at upgrading," Emma muttered to herself, forgetting Karla for a moment.

"Oh, I don't know. A three-part curation, perhaps. Items to return to New York, a select wardrobe to leave here so that I don't need to deal with Portalocity and luggage, the rest to consignment shops."

"You really do," Karla agreed, ignoring that Emma had been speaking mostly to herself and ignorant of the whys behind it. "You've been living in that same apartment for how many years now? A little more room won't go amiss, darling."

"I bought the building two years ago, through an entire shadowplay of trades. I have all the rooms, I just take other peoples' money for them," Emma said absently. "I like my studio, it's a perfect 'me' size. But a better address and bigger floor plan..." Emma was already running the numbers in her head. "I can do that. I should have done it last year, actually."

"Unsurprised to hear that you own it," Karla remarked, shutting the door to the shed behind her. Brr, it was still nippy, she was very much looking forward to a warm cup of tea when she got back inside. "But if your studio's the perfect you-size, why do you need a bigger floor plan?"

...She'd been monologue-ing out-loud, hadn't she? "Repeat guests," Emma said dismissively. "Candy's over constantly, and she's a bed-hog. Jack needs his own space and I'm always trying to get Jono to come over more... I could have closet instead of storing things in the disconnected stove... I could have a staff instead of trying to do it myself. A cook."

"I'm not an undergrad anymore, or even a grad student. I've got a net worth larger than some small countries: I should be managing my life accordingly."

"Well, you're not going to hear me arguing that," Karla laughed. "Besides, of course you should get a larger place. How else will I bring along Warren and three children to visit?"

Let it be said now: this was not a thing she would ever do to Emma. But it certainly was fun to threaten.

"By getting a ridiculously fancy hotel floor like every other important dignitary in New York?" Emma replied acidly. "Penthouses, Karla. They're great for leaving children with their nanny so that you can go be an adult. Elsewhere."

Yup. Still laughing.

"You know, I'm almost tempted to find some way to reveal just exactly who and what I am to your world," Karla gleed. "You know, set up diplomatic ties and treaties and the like. If it wouldn't be so tedious, it might almost be fun."

"It's New York City. Hipsters are everywhere," Emma pointed out. "Everyone will just nod and pretend they heard about Glacia before it was big."

"You could be the official delegate between Glacia and Earth," Karla said, still mostly teasing. Because it would be a lot of terrible, diplomatic nonsense. "I'm sure that would be fun for everybody involved, but especially me because I'd want to watch videos of all the very best interactions."

"You are such a troll." It was fond, Karla. Really.

"Ugh, why is so much that Sotheby's currently has listed terrible? Wait, don't answer that, I know. It's because old people who die have terrible taste." Of course she was already looking, that's what smartphones were for. "No, no, yes, no, UGH no he'd hate it, oh, that's cute, but why is it in Tribeca?

"I assume you're looking up--hold up." You were friends with intelligent people who actually listened to you, Emma, sorry not sorry. "He'd hate it? Who'd hate it? Jack? Would Jack hate it? Emmaaaaaaaaaa." Could you hear her grinning, Emma? Could you? "Would Jack be a reason you're looking around for a bigger place?"

Yes, she'd mentioned Jack a little earlier, but in the same breath as temporary guests. But actually shopping for an apartment with him in mind...hmmmmm.

Can you hear the eye-rolling, Karla? Can you? It is strong with the Frost. "He is the person who tends to spend the most amount of time in a bedroom with me," she said sarcastically. "I'd rather he didn't hate the place, even if the view's to die for."

"You sound defensive darling," Karla noted. "I find that inter--hold on a sec?"

Because she was considerate, Karla covered the mouthpiece and moved it away from her face before yelling to Nyles and Cora that one did not ride wheeled trolleys in the halls.

"~Disgustingly domessssssssssstic~!" Emma sang, making a face. "Is it the nanny's day off or something?"

And that, right there, explains so much about Emma, her sisters, and all AU Frost children. Forever.

"We don't have nannies," Karla reminded. "Warren and I agreed that the only people raising our kids would be us."

They still had the help because no one wanted Karla to be in charge of keeping anyone's room clean, including her own, but it wasn't the same by a long shot.

"...And our ridiculous extended family. But we still get the last word."

"You always have the last word even with a nanny. The nanny just saves you the trouble of being the second, fifth, and eighth word on the subject," Emma pointed out. "But fine, you want to be hippie granola parents and involved and that sort of thing. It's very...adorable of you."

The word Emma wanted to use was 'naive,' but she was trying to be tactful.

"I know, darling, you think it's stupid," Karla said, still amused. "But we both grew up with nannies--at least until Warren grew his wings and my parents were killed. And we both grew up feeling estranged from them. We don't want that for our kids."

"Don't knock parental estrangement. It may not be for everyone, but it made me into the flawless, functional creature you know and love," Emma said cheerfully. "Can you imagine if I'd spent more time with my family? I'd be an even greater manipulative capitalist than I already am! And no one - besides me - wants that."

"Well, here's hoping Warren and I manage to perform somewhat better than Winston Frost at parenting," Karla said dryly. "It's a low bar to hop over, but we try."

33 Apocalpyse Avenue, Tuesday.

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