|Emma Frost (ofdiamond) wrote in parabolical,|
@ 2008-07-12 00:13:00
|Entry tags:||emma frost, scorpius malfoy|
Who: Emma Frost and Scorpius Malfoy
What: Arriving in Los Angeles. Somewhat more suddenly than is normal.
Where: Dolce and Gabbana, Rodeo Drive
Rating: PG-13: Emma, she swears. Just a bit.
Status: In Progress
Emma blinked. And then blinked again. Had the rack of clothing in front of her just changed? Subtly, yes, but it had changed. What had been a red shirt was now a blue-greenish one. (And the change hadn't been for the better.) Or had she just mistaken it? The last vestiges of exhaustion - emotional, physical, and mental - tinkering with her perceptions, or maybe a lingering side effect of off-world travel? Color-changing hallucinations sounded distinctly unpleasant, but harmless enough. As long as she didn't plan to drive anywhere. (Because traffic lights could prove a problem, now couldn't they?) But who drove places when you could call a private jet?
It was when Emma looked up from the clothing that she dropped the "mild hallucination" theory. Where she had been shopping on a rainy day at the Dolce and Gabbana in New York City, she was now staring out at a sunny street with - oh god, were those palm trees?
"Oh, bloody hell."
A few of the other shoppers - dressed, she realized, for a much warmer day than the one she'd woken up to - glanced over at the swear, and she subtly encouraged them to turn right back around. Then, because she'd already tuned in to their thoughts, she rifled through a few people's surface memories. She was in Los Angeles.
But still in a Dolce and Gabbana. Who ever had teleported her had a sense of humor, at least. But where could that person be? She started ticking off the people she knew who could have accomplished the feat: teleported her across a continent without showing up on psychic radar beforehand - so shielded themselves, or be able to do it long distance. While she did so - and the consideration process was rather long - she ambled her way out of the store, and looked up at the clear California sky. She stood there for a few minutes, taking in the sights and the sounds and the thoughts. It seemed like the real article - if it was illusory, someone had gone to the trouble of fabricating an awful lot of scenery and very realistic people, who were themselves completely convinced they were in Los Angeles.
"Either this is a great practical joke, in which case, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha," she said dryly, to nobody in particular, "or I am going to have to seriously hurt someone."