Emma's Flat, Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn. [Feb 2nd, Afternoon, Marvel Time//Friday Afternoon, Fandom Time.]

[icecoldfrost]

Emma had...drunk. A lot. And had only her mutant metabolism to thank for not having alcohol poisoning. Hallelujah, genetic awesomeness. The only thing saving her from an epic hangover was using up the vast majority of the hot water in the building, more coffee than God, and eating an entire box of frozen waffles. Candy had already departed for

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[furnaceface]

//I promised,// Jono agreed, nodding a little. //I'm not going to try to weasel my way out of that now. Just... maybe stop pointing that fork at me before I start telling you, hm?//

No, he didn't actually think she was going to use it. That was his way of acknowledging that he was well aware that she was going to be Not Best Pleased with him, that was all.

//And I'd rather this not leave this room, Morton and I have been keeping this secret for a reason.//

And that reason was, Karla would probably kill them, and then tell them to cut it out for their own good.

[icecoldfrost]

<< Morton's involved? Now I know this has to be a terrible plan, >> Emma replied, although she obliged in putting down the fork. << Morton comes up with terrible plans. >>

[furnaceface]

//He had help with this one,// Jono admitted, toying awkwardly at the wrappings around the back of his neck. //It's... territory security, I suppose. Since Karla and Warren are in the running for the Worst Timing Ever award. I'm having a plaque made up and everything.//

[icecoldfrost]

She needed more coffee for this, didn't she? Emma reached for her mug and downed the rest of her beverage, finishing off her second breakfast. "Riiiight. Let me guess, you're trying to use your telepathy in ways you never let me train you to use your telepathy. I'm insulted and will be telling you 'I told you so.'"

Oh, don't worry Emma, it gets worse.