Emma Frost took in the sight of her counterpart's penthouse, observing it with a critical eye. They seemed to have very similar tastes, both immaculately clean and sparkling with diamond accents all throughout the hallways and bookshelves. Downtown Boston glittered below the large windows, still too early for the sun to be up. She grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders, sitting cross-legged on the floor that overlooked the city, Emma saw the potential flickering below her. There was so much to be done, as long as she was less vulnerable than the last time around.
Maybe she should reach out to Jean again, see if she was around. Surprisingly, the redhead was an immense help to her in accepting what was happening. They were close in this other life, but the same couldn't be said in this one. Rocky at best, it wasn't easy to remember that Emma had sifted through her husband's thoughts and basically cheated on her but only in their minds. It made it easier having those other memories to fall back on, of two best friends who stayed up giggling and drinking wine after bad dates or terrible movies, not the ones where Emma and Scott betrayed Jean's trust and where her diamond form was shattered and then put back together by the very woman she betrayed. Life was really funny that way, wasn't it?
It wasn't until she went to the coffee shop later that morning to get a little caffiene so her headache might go away sooner rather than later. The line took longer than normal, and Emma swore her brain was buzzing with so many thoughts she might actually go insane. How could she get anything productive done when she had a million different thoughts running around in her mind. The coffee shop was bustling with people, all of them busy and all of them moving around so quickly, like they had their own agendas and couldn't care at all that she was standing there with the most splitting of migraines.
She went to order, and thought the order in her mind first: large americano with a shot of vanilla, and glared at the freckle-faced teenage barista for not knowing what she wanted immediately. It was like magic, he nodded his head and grabbed a cup, "One large americano with a shot of vanilla coming right up." Emma blinked at him, wondering if she had actually spoken and forgot that she had done so or if she was really going mad. Looking down for her purse, she shook her head. She'd left the beautiful designer bag on the counter in the penthouse. Looking back up at the boy, she thought to herself, "fuck, I don't even have any money" and he smiled innocently back at her, "Don't worry, it's on the house."
Emma hadn't walked two steps away before another thought popped into her head, "Holy shit, her tits are amazing. I wonder if she'd go all cougar on me since I gave her a free coffee." Now she knew that wasn't her voice, she and the other girl sounded enough alike that she hadn't suddenly dropped three octaves (well, two, the poor thing was still figuring that out.) Emma smirked, the dots finally connecting.
Holy shit. It was happening. She could feel it deep in her bones. Testing it again, Emma reached out with her mind, and all of a sudden the rest of the noise stopped. It was like putting the entire world on mute. The coffee shop was eerie quiet except for the sound of that young boy's thoughts, and it amused Emma to no end. Finally figuring it out was amazing. Shifting through the occupants of the cafe, Emma heard all sorts of different thoughts and it made her heart pound in her chest: "I can't believe him, I can't believe he is making me move to Chelsea," was from the tiny black girl in the corner, and "what the fuck am I using Tinder for, anyways? Just because mom wants me to date boys doesn't mean it'll make me not a lesbian," was a very loud thought from the blonde in the corner. Emma couldn't help but be a little smug, and when her order was called to the counter, she gave the barista a dramatic wink. "They're real, too, sugar."
Deciding she would test out the extent of her powers, Emma took a sip from her cup and took a tiny walk down the street, deciding who she would test her powers out on.. just to see what she could do. Strolling into the park, Emma took a seat and found a couple arguing where they should go for brunch. Concentrating on the moron sitting next to the tiny girl, Emma communicated into his mind, manipulating his thoughts into agreeing with what his girlfriend wanted; pancakes were a better suggestion anyways, buddy. The next guy was easier, a runner who she simply insisted tied his shoe and he did it, just like that. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest, realizing that this was actually working. The powers she'd spent so long trying to conceal were back, and she felt more like herself than ever before.
Emma Frost was back.