The Prime Of Ms Emma Frost

I have become so very good at not sleeping. It's necessity, I suppose. I have a lot of work to do. I have an excellent team running Frost Enterprises, but it still requires a lot of my attention. The school comes before even that. The students come first.

So I rarely sleep for more than a bare handful of hours a night, if that. As a telepath, I've developed my own meditation techniques for suppressing fatigue. Thankfully, I'm far too beautiful to require beauty sleep. I think it may be my tertiary mutation.

I don't need much sleep, and I can't afford much sleep.

And I never get much sleep.

Ever since what happened at the Academy, I've found I don't want to sleep. Perhaps because I slept for months thereafter. Maybe I did all my sleeping at once?

The psionic landscape changes when everyone is sleeping, and at night I can feel the beats shifting all around me. I'm almost never the only one still awake in the small hours, but I enjoy being one of the few. I enjoy being in a position to meet them when they come, whoever they may be.

There's always someone coming. The world is a dangerous place.

What happened last night has happened before, and it will happen again. Perhaps not here, but somewhere.

I'll get my sleep when the danger passes.

I read in this morning's Financial Times that Shaw Industries has won a contract to build a new maximum security 'detention facility', which will be used in part to house terror suspects, including those of 'extra-normal ability'.

I wonder who in the world they could be referring to?

They've already nicknamed it 'The Vault'. I must say, I'm positively charmed.

Merry Christmas everybody.

Your attention please, students. This is Emma Frost. This is not a pre-recorded message, and this is not some burly Englishman muscling in on my account. This is my own sweet, fabulous self, typing with a cracked fingernail and a headache that sadly owes nothing to champagne. I am pleased to report that I am alive and most definitely kicking, and I will not be done kicking for quite some time.

Those surly, beer-swilling hooligans Brian and Peter are with me, and I shall be back at the school some time tomorrow. I would be very grateful if you could update me on the more important details I've missed, and by important, I don't mean which of the boys are the latest to have a lovers' tiff and who broke a vase in the library. Let's start with arrivals and departures and move down the list from there.

There will be much to talk about on my return, including some discussion of giant killer robots. I understand I have some of you students to thank for the fact that I am returning at all. You will be in no doubt as to the depth of my gratitude.

Elizabeth, I'm delighted to have you back among us. Be sure to wear sunglasses when you see me, darling. My brilliance will only blind you again.

Jake, where is that Louis Vuitton attaché case you stole from the back of my limousine in Monaco in 1999, you thieving little dog?

I do so look forward to us all catching up.

I shall never think well of Paris again.

Much love,

Emma.

Hello students, teachers. Just a little update from River Rock, my modest little cabin in Maine. I thought I'd better get in touch to let you know how things are going.

Sarah seems to be taking to the area well, from what little I see of her. Don't worry, there's only so much trouble she can get into out here, although she's probably finding most of it. Jono is coming along extremely well. We've been joined by Elisabeth's brother Brian, who is helping monitor our work together, and he seems very pleased with Jono's progress.

All in all, it's been a very rewarding retreat. Jono is probably exhausted, poor dear, and I'm a little worn out myself, but spirits are high, and we'll all be much the better for this time away when we return. Now I've had a chance to talk with Brian, I'm hoping to spend some time working with Elisabeth when I get back.

Charles, if you need me for anything, I'm happy to telecommute in. I hope to be back next weekend, unless we're needed for anything urgent.

My love to you all,

Emma.

Are we having a little hard-done-by contest, here, children? Let's see... my parents sent me to an asylum because they thought I was insane. Do I get any points for that? I escaped, thank God, though I had to live homeless in New York City for a little while. But do you know what I did next?

I made the best of a bad situation. And I was lucky, because I have a gift, and all I needed to do was learn how to use it, and decide what I wanted to be. And here I am; a mutant success story.

You all have gifts. Now you just have to decide what you want to be. So that's my question to you this morning, children. Think of it like career counselling. I don't care where you've come from or how hard a journey it's been. I want to know from you what you want to be, either with your powers or without them. If you don't want to tell the whole school, e-mail me privately, but I would like to hear from all of you. It's time you learned that coming to terms with being a mutant isn't the end of the journey. You are miracles, every one of you, and still you can be so much more.

Auntie Emma is on her way to New York for the weekend, taking her saucy little menage of Mr Wisdom and Ms Braddock along for the ride. I've also taken Haroun, who has an appointment with an old colleague of mine, and Jono and Sarah, who have volunteered to help me out with a little job. With all the tension in the air of late, I think we're all hoping to use this opportunity to unwind a little. Indeed, I have a function at my old club on Sunday night, which I may bring them along to. We should be back Monday. Do try to get by in our absence.

Have bought a whip. It's made of kangaroo hide, apparently. They peel the kangaroo like an orange and then plait these incredibly thin strands of leather together to make a fearsome singletail with an impressive reach. I've been practising out in the grounds; I'm getting quite good with an empty beer can (not for the first time, hmm?), but I haven't been able to try it out on a moving target yet. I should ask for volunteers.

I must say, it's quite the most impressive piece of leather I've bought in weeks. I made the acquisition on a little daytrip into the city yesterday, when I was supposed to be meeting up with a contact of mine, whom we shall call 'Martin'. Only 'Martin' did not appear, making this the first time I've been stood up in quite some time. I did make a little trip to my old club while I was there as well, though, so it was far from a wasted trip. Auntie Selene sends her love to Sarah, Jono and Alex, and says she'd just love to have you all over at hers again some time. She told me to say that she promises not to bite.

Oh, to those students who attended my little 'blackout soiree' the other evening; I seem to have acquired some lost property, which I'm keeping in my office. I won't go into details; I'm quite sure you'll know if you're missing something. Come and see me if you want your 'things' back. Thank you.

This is my first week with a full and proper teaching schedule in slightly over a year. I must say, it is good to feel the thwack of the wooden ruler against my hand again, and the smell of chalk dust is almost an aphrodisiac. For the love of learning, of course.

Oh, the party on Saturday. My friend the black hag was, unhappily, quite well - but I will admit that she knows how to entertain. I must say, Sarah, Alex and Jono were excellently behaved, and quite the eye-catchers, too. If there were ever an opening for an Emma Frost-led X-team - a sort of chic, edgy alternative to the usual charming boyscout brigade, for when saving the world requires fewer morality lectures, a little more attitude, and backsides that don't look quite so enormous in tight black leather - I think I'd know where to turn. Of course, my upstanding colleagues would never entertain such an idea, those dear hearts, and I quite understand, but it amuses me to imagine it.

But if it ever does happen; John, if you're reading this, you know I'll always have an opening for you, dear. Maybe you should send your New World Order back to the kitchen and ask for something a little less overcooked.

Jono, you'll be pleased to hear that the shirts are ready.

For those of you who haven't been privy to my work with Jono the last couple of weeks (or for Jono, I should say, as the boy is far from forthcoming), I shall explain. There are those who find it terribly easy to dismiss the intelligence of a woman as beautiful and, may I say, well dressed as myself, but in the still largely unreognised field of psionics, I remain one of the world's foremost experts. I'm also gifted with superb resources, and in my work with numerous energy-form mutants over the past ten years, I've gathered quite the collection of design specifications for power modifiers, focus controllers and containment suits.

In Jono's case, I've been able to modify previous designs to tailor a range of 'shirts' that will allow him to conduct himself in public without undue attention, and should perfectly suit his needs. The shirts not only monitor his energy levels, but can also draw on Jono's energy to power the cyber-design elements. I know Dr Essex was doubtful about use of suits such as these, but these suits are both safe and will afford Jono some semblance of normality.

Be assured, though, that this is only a stopgap measure while Jono and I continue to work on defining and harnessing his powers, and in due course I am confident that we will be able to do away with these suits entirely. Jono will be restored.

Oh, I should include a couple of examples to show you what we're talking about here. There are only six shirts so far, but I'll add to the range as and when Jono gives me more information on what he's looking for.



In addition to the shirts, Jono, there are prosthetics to replace your jaw. Either a natural skintone, or I've come up with a black rubberized version that essentially resembles club fetishwear, and a tattooed and pierced version that is so utterly outré that people will be far too busy pretending they're not looking to notice it isn't real. I hope it serves your purposes. I'm thinking I might see about getting a chromed version as well. Would you be interested? We'll discuss it at our next session this afternoon.

Hank, darling, will you be down in your pit this evening? I'm on my way to LA at the moment, but I should be back some time around midnight. I thought I might come down with dim sum and champagne, and we could play some checkers. I feel like I haven't unwound in a week. Actually, I think that's because I haven't unwound in a week.

The students are behaving themselves. I may have to buy Jubilee some decent clothes at the airport, though, if we can find a boutique. Shush, Jubilation. At those prices, I'm quite sure we can find something we agree on.