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Tamara and Clarice | Backdated 07/14
New roommates meet for the first time. It may or may not have dire repercussions for the hapless townsfolk.
Well, this was it. Her new home away from home ... away from home. The lavender-skinned, twice displaced mutant sighed as she walked through the halls of the mansion that was going to be her residence for the next little while, idly flipping a short spike of luminous purple energy in her hand. It helped her relax, that familiar hum. Even if she didn't use it on anything, it helped having it close.
The smaller of her two pieces of luggage hung over her shoulder, a somewhat worn, faux-leather carry-on bag in blue, covered in faded stickers of Bahamian flags and RBPD officers, from her parents' earlier travels. Not something she especially wanted to show off, nor its matching larger cousin, still settled in the foyer. But she had ways of taking care of that.
When she reached the door of her assigned room, Clarice took a deep breath, and knocked twice smartly. It was even money, she'd been told, whether her new roommate would be in or not. Anyway, it paid to be polite. Especially this far from everything she'd ever known.
Tamara perked up at the knock, absolutely thrilled to have a distraction. Maybe it was Shen? Or maybe her roommate? She ran her fingers through her hair brown hair. Her wings, draped on either side of her, were still looking kinda gross, all pink and bony (though much better than when they'd first emerged), but there wasn't anything she could do about that. Hell, she couldn't even lift them yet, the muscles hadn't developed, which was why she was stuck laying here on her stomach for the forseeable future. At least she'd managed to cut a t-shirt into a halter-top so she didn't have to wear an open-backed hospital gown as a shirt anymore. She was still wearing a mini-skirt though, because none of the school-issued pants fit - being tiny and with wings webbed down almost to her hips really limited her options - but she was laying with her feet toward her pillow and face toward the door, so at least she wasn't going to scandalize whoever it was.
Putting on a smile, she called a bright, "Come in!"
Taking a deep breath, Clarice weighed her options briefly, then decided to go all-in; might as well get all the weirdness out in one shot, instead of spending a lot of time dancing around it. One of her portals opened in front of her, reality itself fracturing into glowing pink shards with a characteristic blink, and abruptly she was standing on the other side of the door, outlined for a bare second in a halo of dissipating energy. She raised a hand a bit shyly, glowing green eyes attempting to take in every part of the room at once, and began, "'Ey. I'm Clarice. Nice to--" It was as far as she got before one particular feature of her new roommate brought her up short.
Not that the girl was really distinctive, in her own way. Wasn't exactly lavender skin, but that expert makeup, perfect nails, and delicate Asian features would have made her stand out most anywhere. All that took a distant second place to the, "Wings! Are those wings? Those look like wings. You have wings?"
Not the most eloquent way to introduce herself, Clarice supposed. But ...wings.
Tamara had gasped when Clarice appeared, shock all over her face. "Ohmygod, how did you do that? That was amazing!" In her enthusiasm, she propped herself up a little higher on her arms, wincing at the answering pain in her back and, yes, wings, but more importantly, "Can you do it again?"
"It was pretty cool, ay'?" Clarice replied, grinning despite her lack of a graceful first impression. "I ain' really know how it works, kinda just that it works. Maybe the Professor has a couple ideas, but I ain' had much chance to ask him yet. And yeah," there was another distinct blink and a flash of pink, and she was beside the other mutant's bed, "I can pretty much do it as much as I want to. Don't really know how far it could go either--furthest I gone is a coupla miles, and I'm kinda reluctant to try anything further 'til I've practiced some more."
And now that she was closer, the other girl's wings were even more amazing. But strangely ... delicate? Frail? Was it okay to ask?
"That is so cool," Tamara gushed at her. "And your skin and hair-- and where are you from? I love your accent!"
"Ain' gonna lie, I think it's pretty cool, too," Clarice replied, but that other bit dampened her enthusiasm some. Yeah, she was more or less okay with how she looked, but she wasn't used to people she hadn't known all her life being okay with it--much less excited about it. It was hard to stifle that nasty whisper at the back of her head that suggested at least some of it had to be fake, pity or just blowing smoke up her lavender ass. But stifle it she did. Clarice had no time to waste on self-pity.
"Thanks," she said, instead. "Your makeup is tight, too--wish I could just get somethin' put-together out of mine. I from Man-O-War Cay in the Bahamas, originally, but me and my daddy and mummy been livin' in Miami for the last couple years. This is all pretty ... different, ay'?"
Tamara was totally stunned. How could Clarice be so casual? Makeup was nothing compared to everything Clarice had going on! (...or at least Tamara thought she was being casual, there might be something lost in translation from her accent). "Okay, wow. You might officially be the coolest person I know."
She couldn't help it--Clarice actually barked a laugh at that. "For real, dread? Just wait 'til we hang out a while. It'll wear off." She cocked her head, magenta hair spilling over one bright green eye until it was peremptorily shoved aside by the hand not holding the energy-spike. "Thanks, though. Is it 'cause I from the islands? Hate to break it to you, but there's plenty people live in the Bahamas." Not so many on the Family Islands, sure, but it wasn't exactly ... cool, in and of itself. Unless this gal was talking about the other thing.
"And, hey, remember you got wings, ay'? I can't think of too much cooler than that. I get from here to there, sure, but I don't really get to enjoy the ride."
"If they even work," Tamara said, lips pouting a little as she glanced over her shoulder at them. "They're new," hence the bandages, "and pretty much dead weight for now. And they absolutely kill."
"You mean they hurt?" Clarice asked, pupil-less eyes wide. "Well, mudda freeze. That's just ... I mean, I figured God was a mean old fuck when I got my first period, but that's just--" Belatedly, she realized she might have been talking a little too freely in the company of a relative stranger, and she clapped her free hand over her mouth to keep any more stupid-ness from leaking out.
Tamara blinked up at her in surprise, first in confusion (mudda freeze?) and then in delight as most of the words clicked. "No, don't stop!"
"Well," Clarice said, her cheeks flushing a darker shade of their usual pale lavender, "God gone crazy, I guess. But maybe it's just like growin' pains? I mean, it would be a sin, a literal, go-to-Hell, Devil-and-his-Imps-ringin'-the-bell kind of sin, for something like that to be just for show. And I ain' hardly ever go to church."
Tamara was grinning from ear to ear. "Well I hope you're right. The doctor here thinks they'll grow, and that the muscles just need time to develop. But it is kind of like cramps on crack right now, it's the worst. That's why I'm not getting up, by the way, not being rude."
"Hell, gal, we cool," Clarice was quick to reassure her. "If it's as bad as all that, I couldn't fault you for much--I'd prob'bly be tossin' puppies into traffic, by now." There was another blink and she was on the bed opposite her roommate, facing her. She tossed the shard of pinkish energy she'd been carrying up to that point casually at the floor, and immediately her larger suitcase blinked into place just off to the side, near the closet door.
"How did you--?" Tamara laughed, not bothering to finish the question. "Guess I better get used to that, huh?
"Nah, I swear, I don't usually just ... 'port stuff around this much," Clarice said. "I'm just showin' off a little, 'cause this is all so new and kinda uncomfortable and ... " she scrubbed a hand through her hair. "Ugh. I ain' know. Maybe. I guess we'll see how it go?"
"I've never been to Miami, nevermind the Bahamas, but I guess this is pretty different from both of those, isn't it?" Tamara hadn't seen enough of the school or the area to really know, but from what she had seen, they didn't have anything like this is Arroyo Grande.
"Like I'm suddenly livin' on flippin' Pluto different," Clarice agreed with a laugh. "But it can't be much more of a shock for you. Where you from? You mussee American, the way you talk, but I can't place it. Anyway, couldn't be nothing like livin' at mutant school."
Tamara pulled a face. "I'm from the middle of absolutely nowhere, California, populated entirely with losers and assholes. I've only really seen the infirmary and this room, but so far this is way better than home, believe me."
"Guess everybody wishes they were someplace else," Clarice nodded. Growing up, most of her people certainly had--the slow pace of life in the out-islands hadn't been for everybody, especially the kids. But, "I think losers and assholes are pretty much a universal thing, though. Pretty much wherever you got people."
After everything Tamara had been through in her home town lately, she didn't really mean it the way Clarice did. She let herself flop forward, a bit dramatically, onto the bed again, resting her head on her arms. "No, I mean that's all there are in Arroyo Grande. Fake friends, shitty family, doctors who wanted to chop my wings off to make me normal..."
Clarice snorted. "I know my opinion is prolly biased, but normal don't seem like no kinda way to live, to me. Besides, it's all bullshit anyway; stick three people in a room together, and eventually two of 'em will figure out some reason why the third ain' 'normal'. But I get you. Hey, though, least that means this place has got to be a step up, ay'?"
"A huge step up," Tamara agreed with a grin. "Besides, they couldn't've made me normal." She reached out one hand, snapping her fingers and covering her hand in flame.
"Mudda rip, dread," Clarice breathed, the light of the fire reflecting in her bright green eyes. "So you's a double-threat, then. Guess it's always better to have more than one trick to fall back on. Y'know, like being purple and movin' stuff around, the way I do." Her brows rose. "Is it hot? I mean, can it burn you?"
Tamara let it sputter out with a little flourish. She liked that, double-threat. "Not me, no, but it'd burn anyone else. It's electric, so I can do shocks and stuff too." She looked over at her roommate curiously. "What's that you keep saying? Muddy something?"
Clarice nodded at her roommate's explanation, but her cheeks colored slightly at the question. "Sorry. It's a Bahamian thing--I don' really think of it. It's like ... well. A thing people say. 'Mudda sick', 'mudda rip'. When it's really something, 'mudda fuck'. I ain' sure how it translates. It's just, like ... an exclamation?"
"What, like, uh, 'holy shit' or something?"
"I ... guess so? We say it so much, I guess I stopped thinking about it as something that was supposed to mean something. It's more like a ... reaction?"
"Okay, cool," Tamara replied with a nod, then beamed over at her roommate. She was gonna learn so much. "So how long have you been purple? And does your hair grow like that, or do you dye it? 'Cause it looks amazing."
"I don't have anything close to the patience it would take to dye my hair," Clarice admitted. "I've been purple since I was born, which was a major shock to the family. But the telporting only started in the last three or four years."
"Woooow. That must have been..." Hard? Weird? Tamara didn't even know. "Were people just cool with it? Being purple, I mean. What was school like?"
The other girl shifted, slightly uncomfortable. "I've never gone to school. My family was okay with it, or tried to be, but ... this is my first time bein' 'round people I'm not family to. I'm tryin' to make the best of it, but I don' really know what to expect."
"Oh wow, that's so brave," Tamara said without thinking, eyes wide.
Clarice shifted again, then blink, was standing next to her desk, looking down. "Is what it is," she said. "I don' think bein' brave figures into it, much." Sooner the rest of the world was okay with her being her, sooner she could ... well, who knew? But it wasn't as if she could hide from it.
"You're here, aren't you?" Tamara asked, not sure what the issue was. "Gonna meet a bunch of strangers and learn about your powers, far away from home? Oh yeah, that's definitely brave."
The lavender-skinned mutant scooted up onto her desk. "I mean, it's not like I have much of a choice. It's either this or hide out in a hole for the rest of my life. And I ain' much for hidin' out."
"Me either," Tamara agreed with a smile. "Besides, why would we want to hide what we can do? It's amazing!"
"I know, right? I guess we just gotta convince the rest of the world."
"They're just jealous," Tamara told her, grin tugging at her lips. "And we'll look out for each other. That's why we're here, right? I mean, the professor showed up right when I needed help, and we'll get good at all this stuff so we can do that for other mutants." Who needed the rest of the world anyway?
Jealous, stupid, or just plain scared. Clarice supposed all those labels applied equally. But there were also those who were willing to try to understand. And the undiscovered mutants out there who might need them, someday. "We'll look out for each other," she affirmed. "And any other mutant that needs it. Anybody who don' like it, well. I'm a reasonable gal. Until somebody gives me a reason not to be."
Tamara giggled, completely onboard with that. "Exactly. And they won't like us when we're angry."
Well, this was it. Her new home away from home ... away from home. The lavender-skinned, twice displaced mutant sighed as she walked through the halls of the mansion that was going to be her residence for the next little while, idly flipping a short spike of luminous purple energy in her hand. It helped her relax, that familiar hum. Even if she didn't use it on anything, it helped having it close.
The smaller of her two pieces of luggage hung over her shoulder, a somewhat worn, faux-leather carry-on bag in blue, covered in faded stickers of Bahamian flags and RBPD officers, from her parents' earlier travels. Not something she especially wanted to show off, nor its matching larger cousin, still settled in the foyer. But she had ways of taking care of that.
When she reached the door of her assigned room, Clarice took a deep breath, and knocked twice smartly. It was even money, she'd been told, whether her new roommate would be in or not. Anyway, it paid to be polite. Especially this far from everything she'd ever known.
Tamara perked up at the knock, absolutely thrilled to have a distraction. Maybe it was Shen? Or maybe her roommate? She ran her fingers through her hair brown hair. Her wings, draped on either side of her, were still looking kinda gross, all pink and bony (though much better than when they'd first emerged), but there wasn't anything she could do about that. Hell, she couldn't even lift them yet, the muscles hadn't developed, which was why she was stuck laying here on her stomach for the forseeable future. At least she'd managed to cut a t-shirt into a halter-top so she didn't have to wear an open-backed hospital gown as a shirt anymore. She was still wearing a mini-skirt though, because none of the school-issued pants fit - being tiny and with wings webbed down almost to her hips really limited her options - but she was laying with her feet toward her pillow and face toward the door, so at least she wasn't going to scandalize whoever it was.
Putting on a smile, she called a bright, "Come in!"
Taking a deep breath, Clarice weighed her options briefly, then decided to go all-in; might as well get all the weirdness out in one shot, instead of spending a lot of time dancing around it. One of her portals opened in front of her, reality itself fracturing into glowing pink shards with a characteristic blink, and abruptly she was standing on the other side of the door, outlined for a bare second in a halo of dissipating energy. She raised a hand a bit shyly, glowing green eyes attempting to take in every part of the room at once, and began, "'Ey. I'm Clarice. Nice to--" It was as far as she got before one particular feature of her new roommate brought her up short.
Not that the girl was really distinctive, in her own way. Wasn't exactly lavender skin, but that expert makeup, perfect nails, and delicate Asian features would have made her stand out most anywhere. All that took a distant second place to the, "Wings! Are those wings? Those look like wings. You have wings?"
Not the most eloquent way to introduce herself, Clarice supposed. But ...wings.
Tamara had gasped when Clarice appeared, shock all over her face. "Ohmygod, how did you do that? That was amazing!" In her enthusiasm, she propped herself up a little higher on her arms, wincing at the answering pain in her back and, yes, wings, but more importantly, "Can you do it again?"
"It was pretty cool, ay'?" Clarice replied, grinning despite her lack of a graceful first impression. "I ain' really know how it works, kinda just that it works. Maybe the Professor has a couple ideas, but I ain' had much chance to ask him yet. And yeah," there was another distinct blink and a flash of pink, and she was beside the other mutant's bed, "I can pretty much do it as much as I want to. Don't really know how far it could go either--furthest I gone is a coupla miles, and I'm kinda reluctant to try anything further 'til I've practiced some more."
And now that she was closer, the other girl's wings were even more amazing. But strangely ... delicate? Frail? Was it okay to ask?
"That is so cool," Tamara gushed at her. "And your skin and hair-- and where are you from? I love your accent!"
"Ain' gonna lie, I think it's pretty cool, too," Clarice replied, but that other bit dampened her enthusiasm some. Yeah, she was more or less okay with how she looked, but she wasn't used to people she hadn't known all her life being okay with it--much less excited about it. It was hard to stifle that nasty whisper at the back of her head that suggested at least some of it had to be fake, pity or just blowing smoke up her lavender ass. But stifle it she did. Clarice had no time to waste on self-pity.
"Thanks," she said, instead. "Your makeup is tight, too--wish I could just get somethin' put-together out of mine. I from Man-O-War Cay in the Bahamas, originally, but me and my daddy and mummy been livin' in Miami for the last couple years. This is all pretty ... different, ay'?"
Tamara was totally stunned. How could Clarice be so casual? Makeup was nothing compared to everything Clarice had going on! (...or at least Tamara thought she was being casual, there might be something lost in translation from her accent). "Okay, wow. You might officially be the coolest person I know."
She couldn't help it--Clarice actually barked a laugh at that. "For real, dread? Just wait 'til we hang out a while. It'll wear off." She cocked her head, magenta hair spilling over one bright green eye until it was peremptorily shoved aside by the hand not holding the energy-spike. "Thanks, though. Is it 'cause I from the islands? Hate to break it to you, but there's plenty people live in the Bahamas." Not so many on the Family Islands, sure, but it wasn't exactly ... cool, in and of itself. Unless this gal was talking about the other thing.
"And, hey, remember you got wings, ay'? I can't think of too much cooler than that. I get from here to there, sure, but I don't really get to enjoy the ride."
"If they even work," Tamara said, lips pouting a little as she glanced over her shoulder at them. "They're new," hence the bandages, "and pretty much dead weight for now. And they absolutely kill."
"You mean they hurt?" Clarice asked, pupil-less eyes wide. "Well, mudda freeze. That's just ... I mean, I figured God was a mean old fuck when I got my first period, but that's just--" Belatedly, she realized she might have been talking a little too freely in the company of a relative stranger, and she clapped her free hand over her mouth to keep any more stupid-ness from leaking out.
Tamara blinked up at her in surprise, first in confusion (mudda freeze?) and then in delight as most of the words clicked. "No, don't stop!"
"Well," Clarice said, her cheeks flushing a darker shade of their usual pale lavender, "God gone crazy, I guess. But maybe it's just like growin' pains? I mean, it would be a sin, a literal, go-to-Hell, Devil-and-his-Imps-ringin'-the-bell kind of sin, for something like that to be just for show. And I ain' hardly ever go to church."
Tamara was grinning from ear to ear. "Well I hope you're right. The doctor here thinks they'll grow, and that the muscles just need time to develop. But it is kind of like cramps on crack right now, it's the worst. That's why I'm not getting up, by the way, not being rude."
"Hell, gal, we cool," Clarice was quick to reassure her. "If it's as bad as all that, I couldn't fault you for much--I'd prob'bly be tossin' puppies into traffic, by now." There was another blink and she was on the bed opposite her roommate, facing her. She tossed the shard of pinkish energy she'd been carrying up to that point casually at the floor, and immediately her larger suitcase blinked into place just off to the side, near the closet door.
"How did you--?" Tamara laughed, not bothering to finish the question. "Guess I better get used to that, huh?
"Nah, I swear, I don't usually just ... 'port stuff around this much," Clarice said. "I'm just showin' off a little, 'cause this is all so new and kinda uncomfortable and ... " she scrubbed a hand through her hair. "Ugh. I ain' know. Maybe. I guess we'll see how it go?"
"I've never been to Miami, nevermind the Bahamas, but I guess this is pretty different from both of those, isn't it?" Tamara hadn't seen enough of the school or the area to really know, but from what she had seen, they didn't have anything like this is Arroyo Grande.
"Like I'm suddenly livin' on flippin' Pluto different," Clarice agreed with a laugh. "But it can't be much more of a shock for you. Where you from? You mussee American, the way you talk, but I can't place it. Anyway, couldn't be nothing like livin' at mutant school."
Tamara pulled a face. "I'm from the middle of absolutely nowhere, California, populated entirely with losers and assholes. I've only really seen the infirmary and this room, but so far this is way better than home, believe me."
"Guess everybody wishes they were someplace else," Clarice nodded. Growing up, most of her people certainly had--the slow pace of life in the out-islands hadn't been for everybody, especially the kids. But, "I think losers and assholes are pretty much a universal thing, though. Pretty much wherever you got people."
After everything Tamara had been through in her home town lately, she didn't really mean it the way Clarice did. She let herself flop forward, a bit dramatically, onto the bed again, resting her head on her arms. "No, I mean that's all there are in Arroyo Grande. Fake friends, shitty family, doctors who wanted to chop my wings off to make me normal..."
Clarice snorted. "I know my opinion is prolly biased, but normal don't seem like no kinda way to live, to me. Besides, it's all bullshit anyway; stick three people in a room together, and eventually two of 'em will figure out some reason why the third ain' 'normal'. But I get you. Hey, though, least that means this place has got to be a step up, ay'?"
"A huge step up," Tamara agreed with a grin. "Besides, they couldn't've made me normal." She reached out one hand, snapping her fingers and covering her hand in flame.
"Mudda rip, dread," Clarice breathed, the light of the fire reflecting in her bright green eyes. "So you's a double-threat, then. Guess it's always better to have more than one trick to fall back on. Y'know, like being purple and movin' stuff around, the way I do." Her brows rose. "Is it hot? I mean, can it burn you?"
Tamara let it sputter out with a little flourish. She liked that, double-threat. "Not me, no, but it'd burn anyone else. It's electric, so I can do shocks and stuff too." She looked over at her roommate curiously. "What's that you keep saying? Muddy something?"
Clarice nodded at her roommate's explanation, but her cheeks colored slightly at the question. "Sorry. It's a Bahamian thing--I don' really think of it. It's like ... well. A thing people say. 'Mudda sick', 'mudda rip'. When it's really something, 'mudda fuck'. I ain' sure how it translates. It's just, like ... an exclamation?"
"What, like, uh, 'holy shit' or something?"
"I ... guess so? We say it so much, I guess I stopped thinking about it as something that was supposed to mean something. It's more like a ... reaction?"
"Okay, cool," Tamara replied with a nod, then beamed over at her roommate. She was gonna learn so much. "So how long have you been purple? And does your hair grow like that, or do you dye it? 'Cause it looks amazing."
"I don't have anything close to the patience it would take to dye my hair," Clarice admitted. "I've been purple since I was born, which was a major shock to the family. But the telporting only started in the last three or four years."
"Woooow. That must have been..." Hard? Weird? Tamara didn't even know. "Were people just cool with it? Being purple, I mean. What was school like?"
The other girl shifted, slightly uncomfortable. "I've never gone to school. My family was okay with it, or tried to be, but ... this is my first time bein' 'round people I'm not family to. I'm tryin' to make the best of it, but I don' really know what to expect."
"Oh wow, that's so brave," Tamara said without thinking, eyes wide.
Clarice shifted again, then blink, was standing next to her desk, looking down. "Is what it is," she said. "I don' think bein' brave figures into it, much." Sooner the rest of the world was okay with her being her, sooner she could ... well, who knew? But it wasn't as if she could hide from it.
"You're here, aren't you?" Tamara asked, not sure what the issue was. "Gonna meet a bunch of strangers and learn about your powers, far away from home? Oh yeah, that's definitely brave."
The lavender-skinned mutant scooted up onto her desk. "I mean, it's not like I have much of a choice. It's either this or hide out in a hole for the rest of my life. And I ain' much for hidin' out."
"Me either," Tamara agreed with a smile. "Besides, why would we want to hide what we can do? It's amazing!"
"I know, right? I guess we just gotta convince the rest of the world."
"They're just jealous," Tamara told her, grin tugging at her lips. "And we'll look out for each other. That's why we're here, right? I mean, the professor showed up right when I needed help, and we'll get good at all this stuff so we can do that for other mutants." Who needed the rest of the world anyway?
Jealous, stupid, or just plain scared. Clarice supposed all those labels applied equally. But there were also those who were willing to try to understand. And the undiscovered mutants out there who might need them, someday. "We'll look out for each other," she affirmed. "And any other mutant that needs it. Anybody who don' like it, well. I'm a reasonable gal. Until somebody gives me a reason not to be."
Tamara giggled, completely onboard with that. "Exactly. And they won't like us when we're angry."