|Emma Frost (elitistqueen) wrote in utr_logs,|
@ 2009-04-09 20:28:00
|Entry tags:||emma frost|
Who: Emma Frost [narrative]
What: Baby!Esme time
Where: Emma Frost's home for wayward strays
Not even counting the little roughians who lived under her roof and ate all of her food, Emma Frost was mother to more children than she could count. Whether she really wanted to admit it or not, her work had become absorbing to the point of distraction. If she wasn't dealing with one child's personal drama, she was disciplining, lecturing teachers about test scores, or doing any number of mundane tasks that were required of administrators. Emma couldn't say she disliked being an educator, only that it took far more work than most realized and that it was much more draining than she let on. At the end of the day, with a designer bag full of paperwork that needed to be done soon, she wanted nothing more than to relax.
Sadly, her home was inhabited by teenagers. This meant she rarely, if ever, had as much peace or solitude as she might like. And when things were still, it often meant that trouble was in the air.
Shortly after arriving home, Emma noticed how silent the halls were. The only signs of life were psychic signatures of her children. And the loud, sudden slam of a door. Emma frowned lightly. That had been Rose. Darius was on her mind. It seemed a day couldn't go by without someone fighting.
"Oh children," Emma sighed, deciding to wait a little before talking to either child. Best to let them cool before jumping into the middle of it. Instead of stressing herself with the other children or more work, Emma busied herself with her youngest.
"Esme." With a two year old on her hip, it was difficult to sound as severe as she wanted to sound. "What did we say about pulling mommy's hair, my little darling?"
Esme's chubby little fingers slowly disentangled themselves from her mother's hair. "Sorry, mummy."
"Thank you," Emma said. "Now," lacking her usual grace, Emma placed the child on her bed and then all but flopped beside her, trying to get comfortable. In the back of her head, she thought of all the paperwork she'd have to do tonight and how it would probably not get done because of her children, "How was your day?"
This launched Esme into a ten minute long babble-fest, not all of it comprehensible, most of which revolved around Logan. What Emma couldn't understand, she used her powers to decipher. Most might have seen this as cheating, but Emma quite liked being able to know what her youngest was thinking. The thoughts of children were often odd and funny and refreshing in their innocence.
"So you had fun today, Esme?"
"Yes!" Esme smiled with the brightness of the sun. "Mummy!"
"Mummy monster! Monster mummy! Want to play!"
Emma sighed heavily. "Later, dear heart."
"Now! Now now now!" From Esme's tone, she was clearly not going to give up. For good measure, Esme repeated the word once more, drawing out the syllable for nearly a minute.
"Oh..." If only Sebastian could see her now, Emma thought. She wondered what any number of her old friends might have to say about how tragically domestic she'd become. "Alright." Her lips curled into a grin and a predatory look entered her face. Emma crouched low and started to growl in a thoroughly un-White Queen-like way.
Esme let out an excited little squeal and tried to bury herself under satiny white blankets. "Oh no!" She said, playing the part of monster bait as best she could while giggling.
What followed was a half minute of Emma crawling across the bed and five minutes straight of tickling Esme before chewing on the little girl's extremities. When it was over, they were both laughing and both looked a mess.
Emma looked as though she might pounce again, but the slam of another door made Emma straighten a bit. "Hmmm." Maybe it was best if Emma deal with the latest drama sooner rather than later. "I have to have a talk with Rose, my little darling." She smiled down at Esme. "Maybe da-" She cleared her throat. "Maybe Logan will play monster with you, hm?"
This idea seemed to please Esme. Emma got the clear impression from brushing up against Esme's thoughts that the little girl thought Logan looked far more like a monster than Emma did. Emma laughed quietly and, after a moment of searching, dragged a brush through her hair.
"Come on, Esme, let's find Logan." She offered her hand, which Esme took, and then they were off.