xp_logs | Medusa and Clarice, Monday afternoon

Medusa runs into Clarice Monday afternoon. Leave it to the Pixie to flat out ask Medusa why she’s so distant.

Clarice sat out on the smokers porch with a toolbox and a couple epees. She had ordered some new blades since several of hers had broken and was now putting them together. Thankfully, these were only practice epees and not electric. Electric swords she had to have done for her. Her ipod was playing Bowie through little speakers instead of headphones and she idly sang along.

Medusa walked outside, planning to take a stroll through the gardens. She was still having difficulty adjusting to her new life and she was tired of people judging her. As soon as she walked out the door, she halted in her tracks. Oh no. The pistachio. “Greetings,” she said politely, manners not allowing her to back away, no matter how much she might desire to be elsewhere.

"Hey," Clarice looked up and reached over to turn her music down, "You're Medusa, right?"

"That is right, forgive my manners. And if memory serves, you are Clarice?" Her eyes wandered around the porch and settled on the epees. "You fence?” she asked, her tone indicating interest.

"Absolutely, mostly epee and sabre, but some foil, you?" another fencer was always a good thing. "We have a decent program considering how small the school its."

“Mostly sabre, but I have dabbled in epee and foil,” she replied, though her definition of dabbling was probably far different than most peoples. “I did not bring my things with me as I did not expect to continue my practice here. Perhaps I shall pick them up on my next visit home.” Her voice was polite, but still somewhat distant as something about the purple girl made her feel utterly bewildered.

Clarice smiled, "If you want to come to College Park one day and practice, I'd be happy to take you. We almost always have two or three fencers at Xavier's, but it limits opponents to practice against."

Maybe there were two purple girls at the school. Named Clarice. But this girl seemed so calm and nothing like the lunatic on the journals. Nodding, Medusa allowed the hint of a smile to cross her face. “If our schedule allows, I will try to be a worthy opponent.”

"Cool! So you like it here? It's kinda crazy, but in a good way," Clarice gave up on getting the screw tightened without a...thing. To hold it. steady.

"It is fine here." Which was Medusa’s way of saying she still was not sure what she thought of this strange place. "There are a lot of interesting people here." She watched Clarice curiously, her hair floating tranquilly around her.

"Are you always so politically correct?" she asked, unsure if she wanted an honest answer or not.

Yes would be the simple answer, but Medusa tried to explain it. “I suppose I am. It is required when you have lead a life like mine.” She truly did not understand why people in America got frazzled when she was polite the same way she became puzzled when they were so…American.

That made sense, "It's kinda disconcerting. I mean, it's like, you're not being you. You're being what you were told to be, not who you want to be. You ever want to just be you and ignore the consequences?"

“But this is who I am,” she said. “Perhaps it began due to the training I received as a child, but I am not acting now.” She held her hands out, her hair mirroring the motion. “I am who I want to be. I am perhaps not as free as some of the residents here, but I do not see why that is viewed as such a negative thing. People always think I am judging them for being unlike me, yet everywhere I turn people judge me for being myself.”

"It's 'cause you don't come off as being yourself, at least to me. You come off as....distant. Not aloof or arrogant, but very reserved," she said this very matter-of-factly, not to be mean. She'd never quite met anyone like her, except for Crystal, but she hadn't spent much time with her. "Makes me think that you are holding yourself back."

Medusa shook her head, allowing a small amount of frustration to be displayed on her face. “But why should I show my entire, true self to you? I do not expect everyone I meet to tell me their life story the instant I meet them.” She could not understand why holding oneself back was considered a bad thing. After all, she relaxed around Crystal and her other close friends. A little discretion was beneficial.

Clarice shook her head, "Not what I meant. I mean, I'm open, right? You can ask me a question and I'll give you an honest answer, but I'm not going to tell you my lifes story. I can always say, 'that's personal' or 'none of your business' or whatever. The point is, I'm open to anything. And I'm interested in being friends with you, but you're so reserved that I don't know if you hate me or want to be best friends. So I don't know how to proceed." she really hoped that made sense, because the entire conversation was going into some dangerous territory.

“I do not hate you.” She hoped the other girl had not seriously wondered if she did, but that was an idea she could easily dispel. Medusa made her way over to the bench on the porch, folding her hands in her lap after she had sat down. “I will admit you confuse me though.” Her eyes drifted out over the horizon. “What people do not seem to understand is that I do not wish to change who I am…but neither do I wish other people to change.”

"Is relaxing really that hard?"

"Why do you get to judge when I should relax and how? If I ran around, laughing hysterically and flailing my arms, would that make you feel better?” she said, arching an eyebrow as she returned her attention to Clarice.

"No," she said, seriously, "It wouldn't be you. I just...I dunno. You're hard to understand." she sat there for a moment, before looking at her excitedly, "You've had paparazzi problems, right? Or y'know, groupies?"

Medusa nodded once, her expression growing taut. “Not as much as some of my friends. We are apparently not the most interesting of royals, at least as long as they do not latch onto the story of our gifts.” She did not understand Clarice’s excitement; of course, if the girl had never been chased down a street or had a camera shoved in her face when she was trying to enjoy a quiet lunch out, she would not understand the utter violation it could sometimes feel like.

"What do you to get rid of them?" she asked, concerned, she was having some problems at school that were the complete opposite of what she was used to and didn't know how to deal with them.

Shrugging uncomfortably, Medusa resisted the urge to shift in her chair. “By being boring,” she answered, as honestly as possible. “When all they saw me do was eat and shop…there were no illicit romances to photograph, no nights of drunken debauchery.” She hesitated. “I also found it helpful to never take the same route twice.”

"That might work..." Clarice mused thoughtfully, "There is this club on campus that is very pro-mutant, to the point that it's kinda creepy. Anyways, they keep following me around, trying to get me to join. One girl used to dress all normal-like and now she dresses like me, which is weird. I don't know how you handle it."

Medusa shrugged again. “I am used to it.” It had been part of her life for as long as she could remember.

"The things people get used to are amazing," Clarice replied, unsure when Nathan flying around the school in a robotech suit became normal and mutant wannabes didn't.

“I suppose that is true. Though I am still getting used to the things that occur around here.” It had been a relief to return to Attilan for Crystal’s birthday weekend, even though the trip had been too short.