Diamond Bright

The sweep of the island had turned out negative, confirming the suspicion that Emma had moved to somewhere off-island. And so the group of searchers moved out across the causeway and to the mainland, with the reasoning that if she were looking for Hank, she'd probably head to the city.

( Random traces of unseasonal ice and physic scents eventually led them to a shipping yard near the Causeway... )

[OOC: NFI, NFB due to distance! Timezone preplay waltz accomplished by superb team of justwantsquiet, glacial_witch, not_a_parakeet, weetinyreese, noearsyet, and icecoldfrost.]

When they got back to the hotel, Emma was positively giddy. She'd gotten them two-bedroom luxury suites at the Roosevelt Hotel, and ordered up oodles of desserts and drinks from room service.

"Now that is what I call a party," she laughed, popping open a bottle of champagne. "Here's to us, gentlemen."

[OOC: LET'S HEAR IT FOR THE BOYS! Post One | Post Two | Post Three | Post Four.]

It was startlingly simple to find a secluded corner at the party -- or perhaps not, given that the Hellfire Club seemed to specialize in hidden nooks and crannies.

"We have a problem," she said shortly, once the others have arrived. "Namely, bad people doing bad things, and while I normally don't care about that sort of thing, I am not very fond of their idea of fun."

( Don't mind George, he was just sliding his hands over the walls to make sure there wasn't anything obvious to allow others to listen or spy. )


[OOC: Continued from here. Preplayed with the fantastic bitten_notshy, furnaceface, noearsyet, with an assist from the spectacular gotrocketboots. To be continued! NFI, NFB, OOC = AOK.]

The young scions of New York were out in force tonight, laughing as they tumbled past the formidable entrance of the Hellfire Club. Each one handing over their invitations to the stern-faced bouncers without even acknowledging the men as they passed under the banner reading "Welcome, Future Leaders of Tomorrow."

Emma had presented their invitations with an air of bored entitlement, not even glancing at the bouncers looming menacingly just behind the footmen.

"Do as you will, but harm none," the footman said after looking over the invitation carefully, and they were swept past the majestic doors. Inside the Hellfire Club was a splendid display of wealth and privilege. Sparkling chandeliers, a live orchestra on one balcony, and people mingling about, eating, drinking, seeing and being seen.

Emma almost gleefully grabbed a glass of champagne off a waiter's tray, looking around the party with a predatory look. "So far, so good," she said. "Let's have some fun."

( It wasn't that Jonothon was hell-bent on remaining ridiculously antisocial, really. Except for how he probably was. Yes, he was well aware that hanging around the edges of a large social gathering like this one did somewhat defeat the purpose of crashing what was possibly the most elite party ever held for people their age in the world, but. )


[OOC: Continued from here, and preplayed with the awesomesauce furnaceface. NFI, NFB, OOC = Love. If Uncanny X-Men Annual 2 can play fast and loose with the timeline, so can I.]

After her talk with Hank the day before, Emma knew there wasn't much time if she was going to pull this off. She'd no sooner gotten back from class than she was pulling a small box filled with stationary supplies out of her closet and setting to work, occasionally making a quick phone call.

Practice the lettering, first. Then match the paper and inks properly. By the time of the party, Emma was going to have an absolutely perfect match, for herself and all her guests.

( Jonothon was nothing if not mildly curious at the best of times, and there had been a message on his machine from Emma that had certainly done wonders to pique that mild curiosity of his. )


[OOC: NFI. That Emma had visitors is FB, that they're dirty little delinquents and party-crashing on Thursday is NFB.]