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Emma had had a very very early morning layover. In France. A France. She wasn't quite sure when or what world, but either way, it meant she'd found delicious delicious breakfast.
For all of them.
This is what happens when people let her keep her keys. Not that a lack of a key would keep her out of anywhere she wanted to be, she was Emma Frost, but it was the thought that counted.
The boys would get up eventually, if only because she was brewing some of the good coffee. If the scent of pancakes, sufganiyot, waffles, and bacon didn't wake them first. But for now? Coffee, a spot on the couch, and back podcasts from the radio and occassionally going 'what the hell?'
Sometimes Emma was very very glad she didn't live on the island anymore.
<small>[OOC: Open for texts, phone calls, former-housemates/crashmates, visitors, yes!]
For all of them.
This is what happens when people let her keep her keys. Not that a lack of a key would keep her out of anywhere she wanted to be, she was Emma Frost, but it was the thought that counted.
The boys would get up eventually, if only because she was brewing some of the good coffee. If the scent of pancakes, sufganiyot, waffles, and bacon didn't wake them first. But for now? Coffee, a spot on the couch, and back podcasts from the radio and occassionally going 'what the hell?'
Sometimes Emma was very very glad she didn't live on the island anymore.
<small>[OOC: Open for texts, phone calls, former-housemates/crashmates, visitors, yes!]
