Who: Emma Frost; OPEN When: Friday, June 20th, 2008 Where: Xavier's; informal sitting room (off the library) What: grading papers, enjoying sunlight Status: in progress Rating: PG(-13?)
Grading essays had become something of a chore, lately. 'Miss Frost' was finding it difficult to pour over line after line of apocalypse-induced depressing drivel. It had gotten to the point in a dire situation where morale was at its weakest point. It was going to break soon, she thought. But there was an inkling of hope that the mission to Washington was more fruitful than having simply produced a near-death experience and some shady dealings surrounding the English boy's mind.
The blonde woman was mid-way through striking out a highly confused bit of sentence structure (did she look like a grammar tutor?) when her mind began to drift to more pleasant things. Much more pleasant things. She had been yearning for a night out for quite some time now. To dress herself with painstaking cleverness and poise, to order the most expensive drinks not on the menu and to press up against a few businessmen who carried foolish hopes of ever even being able to comprehend what actually went on behind closed doors at the HFC. In short, she needed a stiff drink and a good lay, and to feel classy and useful and like the vixen she really was. It was beginning to weigh on her.
The sun was steaming in through the sheers of the ceiling-high windows in the informal sitting room, and she pushed the stack of papers that glowed in the daylight away from her and out of her comfortable reach. The end of her pen came to her lips and she leaned back in her chair and away from the table, legs crossed at the knees.
Emma was beginning to feel like a chess master without any pawns. Just a big, empty board where she gazed out; alone with her thoughts and desires. Fuck that. She needed to find a worthy party and see how she faired. There had to be a man around the place that could make her feel how she deserved without her showing him how. Right?