xp_logs | Forge and Clarice, Monday night

After Haroun's latest flying mishap (Zen and the Art of Becoming One With the Lake), Forge has the mission of redesigning his uniform a bit. To do so, he goes to one of the mansion's resident fashionistas. There is discussion of fashion, X-Men, college, and jealous boyfriends. And thankfully, no glitter.

Forge wrestled the wheeled cart out of the small dumbwaiter out into
the second floor hallway, trying his best not to scrape against the
walls. Mr. Marko would likely have his head. Or at least an arm.

Wheeling it down to the third door on the left, Forge knocked quickly.
"Clarice? You decent?"

"Duh," Clarice said, opening the door quickly, she was bored and actively
looking for anything to not do more homework, "So you want my mad skills or
is this some sort of techno-booty call?" she asked, raiding a questioning
eyebrow at the cart.

"Booty what?" Forge cocked his head in puzzlement, then managed to
make a face that suggested he was trying to swallow his own tongue.
"Gah! No! Ah, no... um... the first one. Mad skills. Leather."

Composing himself, he pushed the cart into Clarice's room, pulling out
one of Haroun's flight jackets, thankfully washed of its leaking
coolant. "I have a new design for this, but I need some help putting
it together. I figured since you're as good on a sewing machine as I
am with a soldering iron, you're the go-to girl."

Taking the jacket, she looked it over carefully before taking it to her
sewing table (it was a card table, but it worked) and switching on a lamp.
"What kind of design? I mean, the X-Men aren't changing all their uniform
designs and they wouldn't ask you if they were. What am I not seeing?"

Reaching back into the cart, Forge began removing a stack of small,
irregularly shaped ceramic tiles. "I designed these to act as a
combination flight aid and armor. I don't know if you caught Mr.
al-Rashid's spectacular turfing into the lake the other weekend, but
he's trying to get used to, y'know, new legs and all."

Laying the pieces out along the suit, Forge continued. "See, when he
flies, he makes a lot of heat. Hence the coolant system, which I've
removed. It tended to leak all over the place. Instead, these ceramic
pieces dissipate the heat he creates, while expanding to form a
surface more like an airplane wing."

At Clarice's puzzled gaze, Forge rolled his eyes. "Like the SR-71?
Thermally expansive cowling and... never mind. It'll protect him and
help him fly better. Think you can get them attached and still fit in
with the rest of the team getup?"

"Can they be covered by material that would expand with it or would they
burn most fabrics and melt metal?" she asked, all business. She could think
of several ways to fasten them if they won't ignite or melt anything. The
heat would be the trickiest part.

"That's the awesome part," Forge said with a wide grin, producing a
bolt of matte black fabric. "Remember that fabric I made Rahne and
Catseye's stuff out of? This is the same stuff, only it's
heat-reactive. Won't melt, deform, or burn. I mean, I took a plasma
torch to it and it's fine. The trick is that it's got zero insulation
value, hence the ceramics."

Reaching down to the bottom of the cart, Forge produced another pile
of what looked like oddly shaped pieces of jello in shaped plastic
bags. "This, however, is the neat bit. I call it kinetically-reactive
armorgel. Push it," he poked one of the bags, watching it jiggle, "and
nothing happens. But apply force..."

With a quick motion, he slapped his metal hand down on the gel, with a
sound like a hammer striking concrete. The substance glowed
momentarily, then slowly settled back into a liquid shape. "Better
than airbags. Won't stop a bullet, but it'll keep him from becoming a
big red smear if he turfs at top speed."

"I want some of all of this in lots of colours," Clarice decided, impressed
as she poked and hit the material for herself. "I assume it cuts so long as
you apply consistant pressure without destroying my scissors?"

"Low shear strength, insanely high ductile strength under pressure. In
other words, yeah. Just don't get it near natural fibers, it stains."
Forge leaned back and watched Clarice start to work. "So... rumor has
it you're on the trainee squad now? I hear they love stupid
codenames."

Clarice stopped cutting herself a square to play with to glare at him
darkly, "I'm not a trainee until I'm 18, which means no codename." She
thought this was stupid, but at least by doing all her reading and analyzing
practice now she could actualyl start training at 18. She really wanted a
codename. "Four more months."

"Four months that you still get some semblance of free time," Forge
countered, noticing how cluttered the common area of Clarice's suite
had become with stacks of books, study notes, and other assorted signs
of the approaching end of high school and onset of college. "You're
actually going to try and balance team, college, boyfriend, all that
stuff?"

"I won't know if I've even been accepted to college for like, another
month," she pointed out, gesturing with her scissors, "And Shiro's on the
team, I could practically triple our time together by joining. That's not
the only reason or best reason to join, but it helps balance things
hopefully." She was grasping at straws.

Forge steepled his hands, looking over his fingers at Clarice.
"Suggestion? Talk to Paige sometime," he ventured. "She knows about
time management and dealing with all that stress. Granted, you've got
a distinct advantage in cutting travel time to zero, so you could
really apply to college absolutely anywhere. Europe, even."

Clarice grinned mischeviously, "I applied to schools in California. I figure
I can make the time difference work for me and my commute time. And you know
they're all hippy liberals so that's a good thing too." She was going to
talk to Paige, soon. She just needed to get a few more things organized to
make things easier.

"Yeah, I'm stuck with the whole driving distance thing," Forge
grumbled, flopping against one of the chairs. "That is, if Empire
State University quits trying to strongarm me into the Engineering
School. I know Engineering. I need to learn Business."

The sewing machine clicked and whirred as she experimented with different
stitches and seams with the gel, "That's the problem with genius. You end up
pigeonholed. Have you told them that? And did you look at like, Harvard or
whatever for business? I'm sure they'd like you."

Forge shook his head. "Cue my lack of transportation. I doubt Mr.
Summers is going to let me use the Blackbird to get back and forth to
classes. Besides... I like it here. I can..." he paused, exhaling
slowly. "I can be useful. I mean, I can't do the trainee stuff.
Not like you guys. I just... I couldn't do that. But I can help. So I
want to stay here."

Lack of transportation, oops. Clarice sometimes forgot about that since she
never worried about having it, although she did have her drivers license,
"You could be a trainee if you wanted to be. I mean, one flesh leg and arm
isn't a reason to prevent you, if you wanted to. But you don't have to be a
trainee. But maybe you should live in the dorms and be normalish for once,
you know? See how the other half live?" she wasn't sure she wanted to do the
dorm thing, or more importantly, if it would be safe. Her father thought she
should give it a shot, she wouldn't have to drop out of school if it didn't
work out.

Shaking his head, Forge seemed to curl further into himself. "I can't.
It's... remember back in Scotland? When that kid went crazy and was
doing all those weird things? They killed him. There wasn't any other
choice." Focusing on his fingers, Forge tried to stop his hands from
shaking at the memory. He'd been over this with Dr. Samson enough, it
should be easier by now.

"I could have saved him, you know. Five minutes, I could have altered
one of the containment suits and kept him from hurting anyone. I could
have kept him alive. It would have taken five minutes. But where was
I? Curled in a little ball under a lab table trying not to piss
myself." Rubbing his hand over his eyes, Forge let out a small laugh.
"I know I'm not the same scared little kid I was back then. But when
you get down to it, I'm still going to always be scared to death in
those situations. I don't think I'll ever be able to do the things
that the X-Men do - I don't trust that I won't freeze up and get
someone killed. I can't take that responsibility."

"Hey now," Clarice put her sewing things down and gave him a hug, "It's
okay. We got raided about two weeks or a month after I got here and the
soldiers broke into my room, this was back when I was rooming with
Marie-Ange and Rahne. I freaked out and teleported to the boiler room and
hid under Sarah's bed. I was so scared of my own powers and then that...I
didn't leave her room for a week after that. There's nothing wrong with
being scared, I completely abandoned my roommates and friends and didn't
even stop to think if they were okay, I was too scared," she smiled
reassuringly, "It's okay. At least you know it and not trying to prove
anything stupidly macho to yourself."

Forge leaned into Clarice's shoulder, nodding. After a moment, he
paused. "Uh, Clarice?" he mumbled quietly. "As, uh, totally friendly
as this is, with my luck any moment now your boyfriend's going to open
the door. And I kind of figure he's the 'disintegrate first, ask
questions later' type..."

Clarice snorted in derision, "Then I'll kick his butt," their fights, the
few they'd had anyways, had usually ended up with a duel at thirty paces and
swords. "Contrary to popular belief, Shiro does not own me. I decide if I
want to comfort a friend who's upset or not. Regardless of gender."

"Oh," Forge said quietly, before trying to suppress a smile. "In that
case, I'm really upset and gosh, I just don't know if I can go
on..."

"Lech. Horny toad," Clarice turned back to her sewing, "You have Dani if you
need help that badly. Or y'know, your right hand."

Forge chuckled and shuddered. "Gyah. Even if Dani wasn't... y'know,
Dani, you ever watched someone give birth? How anyone ever has
a second kid is beyond me." He shook his head. "None for me, thank
you. I am perfectly content with a life of work, research, and
celibacy. It worked for the Jesuits, after all."

"Ew, I do not ever want to be that close to a woman's privates. Gross!"
Clarice made a yucky face and gagged, "Boys look goofy and ew! And you're so
not Jesuit. Don't knock it 'til you try it."

Coughing slightly into his hand, Forge looked around to change the
subject. "So anyway, yeah. Graduation. Four months now. Seems...
weird."

"It's not that freaky. I mean, it's not like everyone leaves and we never
see them again. Almost everyone stays here or close by just in case," with
the notable exception of Alex and Lorna, but even they came back before
leaving again, "And I'd be back all the time if I stayed in the dorms. I
just don't want a freak for a roommate."

"Lots of time to think about that, though," Forge remarked, rocking up
to his feet and looking at his watch. "Hey, I've got to study for the
Professor's inevitable pop quiz - gimme a buzz when you've got the
jacket ready? And, um... thanks. For, you know."

"No problem, should have it by the weekend." the jacket design was fairly
basic, it would be meshing the fabrics and tiles together. "see ya."