ax_main | Clarice & Tamara, backdated to 11/8

Clarice finds Tamara devastated after Magneto's announcement. The girls discuss, and things don't seem so dark in the end.

Tamara was, in short, a wreck. She'd watched the video four times online. The Brotherhood's leader had basically just declared war on All Humans - and she was on the wrong side of it.

How were people going to trust mutants now? They'd been struggling with the basics, been freaking out over the NYC protest-- but Magneto had just created the ultimate Us and Them, and done it while freakin' hijacking a TV station.

Yeah. No problem.

And usually Tamara would be online, doing her part to battle the idiocy or posting a new video, but... Right now, for once in her life, Tamara wasn't doing anything. If she could, she'd be curled up in a ball on her bed, but her stupid wings wouldn't allow it. The best she could do was bury her face in her pillow and try to block out everything for a while, wings tight to her back like a kind of shield.

A familiar blink preceded Clarice's return to the room. She was eating greedily from a large plastic cup in her hand, scooping diced pepper and seasoned chunks of white meat of some kind from it with a disposable fork. As the portal vanished behind her, she noticed her roommate's posture and immediately moved to her bed. Settling beside Tamara--careful, as always, of her wings, she dropped the fork into the cup and placed her now free hand on her roommate's shoulder, rubbing it reassuringly.

"Hey, girl," she said. "Wha's all this? I step out for one second, an' I come back to find you like so? What happened?"

Tamara had finally gotten used to her roommate's unique comings and goings, so she wasn't at all surprised. Turning her head to the side, she just muttered, "You haven't seen the video yet?"

"Wi-Fi reception is shit back home," Clarice told her. "An' I was distracted with food. But what kinda video could get the Queen of YouTube lookin' like drops of sorrow?"

Despite it all, Tamara's lips tugged toward a reluctant smile. Clarice always had the best things to say. All the same, "Shit, you better see this..."

Tamara pulled out her phone and unlocked it, handing it over since it was already on the video.

As the video began to play, Clarice watched, eyes growing wider and wider as it progressed. By the time it had finished, she rested her half-finished conch salad on the nightstand and sat back with a stunned expression. "Mudda fuck," she breathed, not quite believing it.

"Yeah. Exactly." Tamara thumped her face dramatically into the pillow again.

"So," she ventured, just a touch uncertainly, "what'cha gonna do?" Because there was no doubt in Clarice's mind Tamara would do something. That was her; she didn't just take shit like this lying down. She punched back, even when people tried to make her out to be the bad guy because of it.

"I... have no idea," Tamara replied helplessly, nudging her mouth clear of the pillow to be heard. "What do you say to... that?"

"Stop the world, I wanna get off?" Clarice offered. "Better yet, pull it over for a second and make him get out. I haven' really tested my range yet, but I'll bet I could get him at least into low orbit."

Tamara propped her chin up on one hand and appeared to seriously consider the possibility, if only wistfully. "I mean, it could work... Way more effective than a YouTube video, anyway."

"Hey, don' knock the power of YouTube," the other girl told her. "I can blink somebody somewhere, and is done. But the internet is forever." Clarice sighed. "Anyway, I prob'bly wouldn' actually do it. I mean, he's taking care of the Brotherhood kids, sort of. I doubt they'd take to the idea."

"That just makes it a better idea," Tamara muttered, rolling her eyes.

"They ain' so bad, really," Clarice said, though without any particular vehemence. It was hard for her to connect the kids from the party with that rally that got broken up in North Carolina; she was still trying to process the idea that the two groups were one in the same. "Everyone I talked to at their party was pretty nice to me, anyway. Weird taste in party decorations, but not mean, or anythin'."

"Oh yeah, real nice for terrorists," Tamara replied, but there wasn't much bite to it. "God, he's taking care of them so he can make them soldiers, it's so fucked up..."

"Hey, we know what one of those ... 'Friends' of Humanity rallies looks like. What they sound like. How they get, when they's spewin' hate and the crowd is all riled up. And those other kids didn' actually hurt anybody, not the way they could if they'd'a been tryin'." Clarice shrugged; she wasn't trying to argue with Tamara, just make her feel better. Better to let that topic drop. "A lot of people here think Xavier's doin' the same thing," she said idly, since she'd heard the talk in the halls, and across the tables in the cafeteria. "And if they don', how long before somebody else does? A flyin' gal who shoots lightnin' would be a pretty good soldier to have."

"Yeah, I'm still waiting to see how this fighting squad works out here," Tamara admitted with a frown. When had everything gotten so complicated? "But I mean, he just declared war on the world - and that's gonna fall on all of us, not just them. That's on mutants everywhere now."

"Maybe," Clarice said. "I mean, this is bad, yeah, I ain' sayin' is not. We'll all end up bein' judged based on the actions of the worst of us. That's how it is usually work." She combed her fingers carefully through her roommate's hair, careful not to disturb it too much. "But the rest of the world, they'll say is an American problem. And nobody knows about this place yet, ay'? We'll just have to come up with some way to change their minds, I guess. Show 'em we're not just one big scary family of superpowered crazy."

"What if no one'll listen anymore?" That was what was really freaking Tamara out. She leaned into Clarice's hand in her hair, really appreciating the touch. "I'm not sure I would, if I was on the other side of all this..."

"If anythin', I think is more important to step up now, let people know that this guy in the helmet is talkin' only for himself, and whoever's thrown in with 'im. Let 'em see not all mutants think like he does, or condone this kind of shit--even implicitly. They gotta see us as people, not this ... army of angry freaks, that could come for 'em anytime."

Clarice was right, and it was exactly what Tamara needed to hear. She just wasn't ready to do anything with it yet. Sighing, she shifted her wings. "Yeah... Help me work on a new script tomorrow?"

"Sure thing, hon," she agreed immediately, resuming her idle finger-combing. "If you want, I could maybe even be in it with you, for a couple minutes or so. Show 'em that you're not all by yourself in this. If you want."

That got Tamara's attention. "Seriously? Are you sure?"

The island-born mutant shrugged. "If you want," she repeated. For the third time.

"If I want nothing," Tamara replied, kind of stunned. "Have you talked to your family about it? Or anyone here? Like, I'd love it, don't get me wrong - but being out to the world is kind of a big decision."

"I've thought about it," Clarice told her. "And, yeah, I guess I'm kinda nervous. But I don't want to live my whole life scared to go out in the world without an image inducer. The sooner I get used to people seein' me, the sooner it'll stop bein' a big deal. Least on my end. E'rybody else can think whatever the hell they want, ay'?"

"I have to wear the image inducer more now, actually," Tamara pointed out evenly, really wanting to be sure Clarice was making a totally informed decision. "My wings are too recognizable, if people in town see 'em and figure out I go here, we won't be secret long."

"I have to wear the inducer any time I leave the school. Any time I go anywhere somebody might see me. I get it. It'll get worse before it gets better; it's pretty fuckin' awful now." Clarice shrugged. "If you don' want me in it, even if it's just for my own safety, that's fine. I just wanted to offer." She picked the remains of her conch salad up off the night stand and began picking through it again.

Tamara bumped her with a wing, pushing just a little. “Okay, you gotta move,” she said, trying not to let her grin break through completely. “I need to give you a hug, ASAP, but I’ll break a wing if I try that from here.”

Smirking around her plastic fork, Clarice pushed off from the bed and moved to stand in front of Tamara, arms twining around the other girl's shoulders. "Don' go and do that, Tam--you spent the whole summer waitin' on 'em to grow in right. Be a shame to ground you again just for one little hug."

Tamara wiggled around so she could stand and give Clarice a good squeeze, giggling and enveloping them both with her wings while she was at it. "You're the best, seriously - the actual best."

"I don' know about that," Clarice laughed, squeezing back. "I haven' even offered to share my conch salad yet. But thanks for sayin' so, anyway. If it gets too bad, I'll 'port us down to one cay I know. No internet, no cell reception, just sand and sky and a clear blue sea. We'll hide out there 'til we feel like comin' back."

Tamara unfurled her wings so Clarice could escape. "Sounds amazing." She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Okay. Tomorrow we can talk details and scripts. ...wanna find a stupid movie or something?"

"Always," she agreed readily. "You wan' me to blink down to the kitchen for snacks an' drinks an' stuff?"

"You do that and I'll pull up the Netflix," Tamara said, practically beaming up at her. Clarice was the best.

"Done. Back before you know it," Clarice grinned, blink ing out of the room.

Grinning at the empty space, Tamara grabbed her laptop and flipped it open, closing everything and heading for Netflix. Everything else could wait until tomorrow.