icecoldfrost | Emma's Corner of the Universe, Bed-Stuy, NYC. [Thursday Afternoon]

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Emma's Corner of the Universe, Bed-Stuy, NYC. [Thursday Afternoon]

"~Portfoilo diversification is fun for me and maybe-fun for you but mostly fun for me~" Emma sang under her breath as she worked on her tablet, curled up on her futon. The best part about starting/owning your own company? If you wanted to work from bed in your pjs, YOU COULD. "Oooo...shiny. Mine."

Had she just bought a nightclub in the area that would be District X in a few years? Yes, yes she had, and sometimes having gone to high school in the future was seriously helpful. Not everything turned out the same -- pop stars had different hits, betting on sports hadn't panned out -- but some things? Some things the universe liked to keep running in a particular way. Lately Emma had been funneling a portion of her investment profits into real estate as a side-project, and she was already seeing a few nice returns beyond improved economic stability in the areas she was investing in. "Your name will be 'eVolution,' because I think I'm funny," she informed her screen, "--and now I get to hire people to get you up and running, and get a management company for you, a few layers of investors, and have an accessibility assessment done and your guts checked for asbestos and--."

Her reverie was broken by the 'ping' of an email alert, and Emma switched over to see if it was something she could ignore for now or was a crisis from the school (which was almost ready to re-open), her office, or the Hellfire Club.

It turned out to be none of the above. The realtor she'd hired had just sent her a private listing -- this moving thing was taking forever and 3/4ths of Emma's life was already boxed up but she'd yet to find something suitable -- so she opened it out of curiosity, to see what she'd been sent this time.

She was on the phone just seconds later. "Yes. Offer them thirteen -- the place next door isn't in as good repair and that's got to pull down the value a bit, and it's Soho, not the Upper East Side for fuck's sake. Plus that basement room appears to need finishing, it's practically naked," Finishing with a discreet contractor to reconfigure that storage room/closet/facilities room to add containment for Jack, for starters, and maybe an indoor sauna, "--But I'm willing to go as high as thirty if it means we don't have to get into a bidding war. Close it and close it now, before they get any other offers."

The moment she was off the phone, Emma was sending out a series of text messages. One to Candy, asking her if she still wanted to get out of her parent's place, one to Jack, with just a link to see if he liked it as much as she hoped he would, then there was a call back from her agent -- the woman was damned efficient, Emma was going to have to hire her for other projects -- with confirmation, and then one to everyone else:

Auntie Emma is calling in her favors, children. Who wants to help her move? Take-out and booze provided, and volunteers get to play in the jacuzzi after we're done.

[OOC: NFB, open post! If you think you got the text, you totally did!]

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Nice place, Jack texted back, laconically. He hadn't taken Emma's real estate hunt as seriously as he might have, in part because the moving thing was taking forever. Whose is it?

Mine, now, came the response a few moments later. Surprise!

Yes, it had taken her almost two months to find a place that she liked. Emma was pretty sure everyone knew by now that she was a perfectionist.

Currently trying to convince Candy that she wants to take a room on the top floor for the next two years, so that I'm not totally lost and alone in Soho of all places. It's so hip I might just faint.

She wasn't really going to faint.

Somehow, Jack hadn't expected that answer at all. He blinked at his phone for a few minutes before typing in a response.

As if you aren't hipper than it is, he wrote. Congratulations. Would you let me stay over, or is it girls only?

Emma laughed at that message, and a moment later, Jack would find his phone ringing.

Ring ring, Jack. Girlfriend calling!

Yay, girlfriend!

"Hi," Jack said, after just enough rings that it wouldn't seem like he'd been staring at the phone. "I was just looking at your house. Did you see the bedroom has a fireplace in it?"

"There's a fireplace in the master bathroom, too," Emma purred. "--with a nice, big, soaking tub, and a private jacuzzi on the terrace."

Look, Emma had her priorities in house-buying, okay?

"And as much as I love Candy, I'd be oh-so-lonely in that room by myself."

"... so it's our place?" Jack asked, unusually vulnerable. "I thought -- I didn't want to presume and look like a fool, you know. Especially since it's still a few years before I'll be able to keep you company in that soaking tub every night."

"I didn't want to buy it without running it past you, but they actually took my offer immediately," Emma said, sheepishly. "...if you don't like it, we can get something else later, but it's got so much natural light, and we can add a wall on first floor and do other renovations to turn that mudroom and extra bedroom into your official offices, if you want, and then there's the basement..."

She really hadn't expected her offer to be accepted quite so fast, but it had, and while there was still paperwork to be done it was basically hers. "--and, like, Candy can keep me company for a few years, or I can find another roommate or two, try to bribe Kennedy out of South America or something."

"I love it," Jack assured her, laughter in his voice. "There's the basement, and it looks like the deck's got some space, and nobody painted any of the walls hideous colors. And we can figure out my office once I see it."

[OOC: Sorry for vanishing - date night.]

Emma let out a breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and the tension went out of her shoulders. "When do you want to see it?" she asked, impishly. "It's uninhabited right now, all I have to do is set the time and place for the paperwork signing."

[No worries, I had a show last night!]

"Now," Jack said shamelessly. "... but in the real world, maybe Tuesday? It's homecoming weekend, and Eric will kill me if I don't show up for my shift Monday."

A pause. "Are you coming down for Homecoming, by the way?"

"I'm texting Jono at the same time I'm talking to you, and he just told me it's Homecoming. I'd forgotten," Emma admitted shamelessly. "Unless you're expecting someone for Homecoming, you should come now, and I'll go back with you for Monday's shift and stay for a few days."

"And miss homecoming?" Jack asked, mock-surprised. "Why, Miss Frost. Do you think they'll suspend our alumni status if we do?"

He actually wouldn't mind missing homecoming. Lately it mainly made him feel old.

"Not if I write them a big fat check." Emma was totally willing to solve problems by throwing money at them. "Kennedy's going to help me find furniture that can withstand supernatural strength pre-coffee... we might as well start looking at beds now."

Subtly, thy name was NOT Frost.

"You're subtle like a ton of bricks, love," Jack told her, and sighed. "So should I plan on furniture shopping with you and Kennedy this weekend?"

"No, just with me," she said, wearing a ridiculous little smile that she was very glad he couldn't see over the phone. "We look at a few pieces, and I'll go back with Kennedy later to get her opinion. But I want to spend some quiet private time -- at the house or in the apartment -- with just us before Kennedy and Jono show up."

It didn't even have to be sexy times. Emma just missed him.

"We haven't had quiet private time in a while," Jack said, and went to lie down on his bed. "I wouldn't mind Kennedy so much, but having another psychic in the house does not inspire passion in me. I'm in. I'll poke around online to send you some photos of things I like before I get there."

"Don't fret, darling. Jono's ignored his telepathy for so long he can't pick things up by accident, he has to be listening for it in particular," Emma laughed. "And I can't think of anything he wants to hear less than my private life."

"Besides, the day I can't keep him out of my private life, I should hang up my 'telepath card' and retire, because REALLY."

Emma loves you like a brother, Jon. But really.

"I'll tell him to come up on Saturday or Sunday, so Friday is ours until Kennedy and her crew show up, and I'll stuff them in the basement anyway."

"Sounds lovely," Jack decided. "Oh, here's a question -- do you think we can be settled enough by December to combine our birthday parties and a proper housewarming?"

"This is why I adore you," Emma informed him fondly. "You have the best plans."

"Only because you inspire me," Jack said, fairly puffed with pride. "I love you, and I can't wait to see the new place."

I'll have whatever you're having, Jono texted. I'm not a fussy eater, really. When's moving day?

When are you available? Emma fired back. I'm practically packed already, and I own almost no furniture. I just can't go diamond to haul boxes in the middle of NYC.

Besides, I'm totally willing to let you pick my dinner and share. Come on, Jono. Since when was Emma NOT willing to telepathically share her tastebuds? Really? She thought it was one of the more fun ways to use her telepathy without going X-Rated ~~pun intended~~.

Well, it's homecoming weekend coming up, but I have roughly about zero interest in sticking around to have pie thrown at my face at a carnival tomorrow. I could probably be there right away.

Seriously, Jono's last encounter with a carnival involved trying to murder people with fire. It bothered him to no end, sometimes, just how short the collective memory of the committee that planned these things could actually be.

And giving me free run of the food that gets eaten is a dangerous proposition, Emma. You know I'll pick quick-and-dirty after sharing Hannibal's tastes for so long.

He just wanted a bloody hamburger. Or a slice of pizza. Or the greasiest fish and chips he could get his hands on.

Oh please, like I need an excuse to go on a hot dog and burger tour of New York. While Emma's tastes could be quite refined (snobbish) at times, she was also still a young woman in her early twenties with a craving for utter junk food. --but I draw the line at the grease pile you call chips.

Nice try, Jono.

It's Homecoming? Fuck. I should call Jack back and see if he wants to come out here this weekend, or if I'm coming there."

Hey, it had been worth a shot!

You wound me deeply, Emma. But hot dogs and burgers will do well enough. If I fall to my knees in a fit of astonishment, just poke me with your foot a few times, I'll come back around.

... He missed junk food.

And yes, it's Homecoming. I'd say you wouldn't be missing out on much, but I live here. I get my fill already.

Talking to Jack now... she informed him. How about you come up Saturday, and I'll head back to Fandom with both of you on Monday? I might as well spend Halloween in the spookiest place I know.

Could work, Jono replied. I might take off a bit early on Saturday and then come back Sunday to finish moving what we couldn't quite manage, though. Hannibal and I were going to chaperone the dance Saturday night. And I couldn't possibly leave him alone to fend off not only the current student body, but also the ones that we were rid of.

Do you one better, Kennedy texted back. Not only do you get me, you get half a dozen girls with super strength, and maybe the witchy gf if she doesn't get called to help put out a world-ending fire somewhere.

Half a second later:

The kids'd be on the clock, though, so no booze for them. No, seriously. They're on payroll.

At long last, I tempt you from your tropical abode! We must shop! No, really, I have no furniture besides my futon and a few tables. We _must_ shop. Quality pieces, must withstand basic super-strength. Kennedy would totally understand why; the place was going to house a mutant and a werewolf.

As to your charges, I have a very large upstairs bedroom that they can all claim and have a giant Slayer-y slumber-party so long as my homeowners' insurance doesn't need to be called, Emma fired off, --and they can have ridiculously expensive chocolates instead. Or is that a bribe since they're already on payroll?

Oh, the furniture thing. I know how that goes. Give me a few, I can get you a list of suggestions. Replacing things got old real fast after the first couple of batches of newbies. So yes, Kennedy definitely understood.

And let's just call the chocolate a bonus. I'm the boss, I can say so.

Settle down, Kennedy, you're just getting this enterprise started.

Wait, you're the boss? Since when? And since when do Slayers get paid? Emma teased over text. I didn't realize you got to travel with an entourage.

Long story.

Was that going to stop her from telling it over text? No.

Funny-but-not-really thing, not all of the girls who got the shiny Slayer-powers upgrade are into the whole demon-stabby, weekly-apocalypse kind of lifestyle. Catch being? Our spell didn't exactly give them a choice. It's just kinda hard to go back to being, you know, normal when you can bench press a bulldozer.

She must have stopped to hit send there and give her thumbs a brief rest, but then went on.

So, our fault, nobody else really wants to do anything about it, cue me calling up my lawyer about starting a business. We stuck them with the super strength, might as well find a way to let 'em make a living with it, right?

I love you you are my favorite did I mention I just started my own business and took it public? Emma, stop being a nerd. A lot of the work I do with the Club is writing policy, creating patents, and wooing companies and politicians, with the hope of having the groundwork in place when mutants can finally go public so that they can make a living on their mutation IF they want.

Emma's turn to shake out her fingers before she started typing again. I miiiight have just bought a school with the goal of having mutant students and training them in their powers, alongside human students for academics. Think any of your girls would be interested on coming on board, either as students or staff? Anyone who wanted to be a teacher pre-Slayer-upgrade, I would be happy to include paid undergraduate tuition so they could get licensed...

Hell, I could probably get some of them jobs at the Club as security, if they aren't squeamish about sex. Come over, bring your crew and your paperwork, and let's talk nerdy about how we make your business part of my business on this world.

I knew there were other reasons I liked you. I can think of at least one or two where that teacher thing would be right up their alley. Yes, Kennedy was grinning as she typed, even if she stubbornly refused to use emoji. Most of what we've been doing so far is private security gigs but I'm all about giving them more options. A couple of the older girls might be up for that job. I'll check with them.

There was totally going to be nerdy business talk. Just in a high-class sophisticated way.

Yeah, yeah, I'm being all adult and responsible. I know. Tell no one. It's weird.

Just let me know how many you're bringing with you for the moving party, and I'll get them chocolate and us champagne, to drink while we plot world domination. EMMA NO. But I'll tell no one that you're responsible so long as you don't reveal that I have a heart.

Gonna say four, maybe six tops. Might have to make them fight it out.

Not really. Don't be terrible, Kennedy.

I have to figure out who'd get the most out of the trip and won't just screw around. As for that heart thing? Can't let that get out. Bad for PR, right?

Have you looked at the floor plan of my house? I can easily fit six, Emma pointed out. Bring the ones that will get the most out of it, then one or two who are prone to screwing around but will probably straighten out once they realize what the world can offer if they apply themselves. I am a strict but fair overlord.

So yes, that heart-bit is bad for PR.

Good thinking. You know we probably could pull off that world domination thing if we really wanted to. Kennedy. No. Some of them could use a little help understanding they have options that aren't, you know, running off to join the circus. This might be good for them.

Where is this place, anyway? I know, not my NY, but close enough.

Soho. Hear the sigh in that word, Kennedy. HEAR IT. I sacrificed the more respectable addresses on the East Side for a place with good light, outdoor space, a bathroom to die for, and a good basement that has space to have werewolf containment added.

Yeah, Kennedy's wince was practically audible even over text message.

Could be worse. All those months packed into Buffy's house like sardines had lent some perspective, apparently. Besides, the neighbors would probably get less weirded out that someone's getting up to funky things on the full moon. I mean, practical considerations. You know.

Exactly. And potentially having packs of Slayers coming in-and-out at all hours won't raise the suspicion of the neighborhood, she replied. Soho doesn't sleep, but the Upper East Side is always judging.

Yeah, gotta be honest, I actually don't miss that part much, Kennedy admitted. Can't wait to see the place, anyway.

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Emma's Corner of the Universe, Bed-Stuy, NYC. [Thursday Afternoon]

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