(no subject)
Emma's never been that easy to please, but the island and its inhabitants seem intent on making her life more of a hell than ever, like just being here isn't bad enough. The accommodations are entirely sub-par, there's this persistent cheerfulness that makes her want to lash out, the weather is unpredictable, the clothing options are terrible. The food is, admittedly, better than anything she would manage on her own, but the entire lack of a currency-based economy throws her off kilter.
Not one of those things is really worth the aggravation. All of it is no problem, though that doesn't keep her from complaining. Even the presence of Jean Grey is, if irritating, something she can get through without difficulty. No one gets the better of her, not ever, and if it were just a matter of being bumped back to economy class with a bunch of morons, she would pull through just fine. It's not like she's never had to work with people beneath her before. It's not like she hasn't lived through worse. She is - she has always been - a survivor.
What she can't stomach is the silence.
It's quiet in her head and fine, that's not entirely new. She's shut everyone out before. She learned to control her ability in college, learned to block out everyone else's thoughts and be on her own, but that's different. That, she could always stop if she wanted. Now all the subtle distinctions, all the tricks she'd learned, are gone and nothing brings it back. No more telepathy, her best weapon is gone.
Out in the jungle just off the beach, someone left a makeshift punching bag hanging up, but it only takes a couple kicks and a sharp punch before it comes tumbling down, too old and worn, not sturdy enough to hold up to all Emma's anger. "Oh, come on," she snarls, aiming a kick at the fallen bag. Sensing someone watching her, she looks sharply back over her shoulder. "What do you want?"
[It's as good a time as any to meet her (or get reacquainted). XD Closed now!]
Not one of those things is really worth the aggravation. All of it is no problem, though that doesn't keep her from complaining. Even the presence of Jean Grey is, if irritating, something she can get through without difficulty. No one gets the better of her, not ever, and if it were just a matter of being bumped back to economy class with a bunch of morons, she would pull through just fine. It's not like she's never had to work with people beneath her before. It's not like she hasn't lived through worse. She is - she has always been - a survivor.
What she can't stomach is the silence.
It's quiet in her head and fine, that's not entirely new. She's shut everyone out before. She learned to control her ability in college, learned to block out everyone else's thoughts and be on her own, but that's different. That, she could always stop if she wanted. Now all the subtle distinctions, all the tricks she'd learned, are gone and nothing brings it back. No more telepathy, her best weapon is gone.
Out in the jungle just off the beach, someone left a makeshift punching bag hanging up, but it only takes a couple kicks and a sharp punch before it comes tumbling down, too old and worn, not sturdy enough to hold up to all Emma's anger. "Oh, come on," she snarls, aiming a kick at the fallen bag. Sensing someone watching her, she looks sharply back over her shoulder. "What do you want?"
[It's as good a time as any to meet her (or get reacquainted). XD Closed now!]