[video]

[myownbestfriend]

[Say hello to Emma Frost, an intimidatingly beautiful but apparently normal human woman who is not especially pleased to be on a giant turtle and drafted into some kind of metaphysical war. She's got it dialed down to an aura of vague irritation, though, and she leans back in the large desk chair that came with her Fire Sector suite. The deep brown of the leather sets off her pale coloration and low-cut white X-Men uniform to excellent effect, and if you think she didn't plan that, you haven't met Emma.]

Please tell me there's a half-decent salon somewhere on this planet.

[If she has to do her own roots she's switching to diamond form until the problem is resolved, see if she doesn't.

Yes, yes, Malicant, a murdered emperor, giant turtles all but extinct, a world on the verge of destruction...but none of those are the sort of thing one ought to ask stupid questions about in public, now are they?]

Comments

[myownbestfriend]

That would be lovely, thank you.

[She'll take whatever Monet offers. When she tries, Emma can be a half-decent person, and she wouldn't dream of rejecting hospitality from someone she actually likes.]

I rather like the design sensibility in this sector. Fire's a bit...busy.

[It reminds her of her childhood home, and consequently, in her occasional unguarded moment, of her awful father, but there's no hint of that anywhere Monet can pick it up.]