xp_logs | Terry and Medusa, Monday night (Reply)

Terry and Medusa finally meet. Things start off well, but suddenly go downhill.

Medusa walked down the hall, her textbooks carefully balanced atop her head and wrapped in her hair, when she saw a redhead walking by. “Terry?” she called out, remembering the girl’s name for the journal system. “Do you have a moment for a question?”

Terry jumped and turned quickly, placing the accent and voice a second before she recognized the face. She smiled easily despite her momentary surprise, "Medusa, isn't it? Sure. What can I do for you?" She pulled the folder in her arms protectively against her chest. It wouldn't do for someone to see all the wedding plans hidden inside.

She nodded to let Terry know that she had identified her correctly. "Are you performing at the jazz club again this week? I had wanted to attend your performance, but was unable to make the one you advertised." Medusa was ready to try something a little lower key than her usual outings and a place like the one where Terry performed seemed like just the right fit.

Her performance the past Friday had left her throat feeling raw and torn. She was beginning to wonder if she should see Dr. Voght about it. But then, people didn’t go in for something silly as a sore throat, right? "Aye. You're more than welcome. There'll be one this week and then the week after next. Next week is a holiday here."

Medusa smiled her small, public smile. "Thank you. My sister told me that you are quite a talented singer." The smile grew just a tad larger. "I additionally am a firm believer in supporting other redheads." Not to mention other mutants.

Terry shrugged, "I do all right and people seem to like it. There was a small review last week in the Voice." It hadn't been entirely uncritical but it was more than she'd ever expected. She'd cut it out and danced around for an hour. Bobby had laughed at her, though she could see how proud he was. "It's a small club and it's been getting busier. I hope you don't mind a bit of a crowd?"

One of Medusa's eyebrows arched slightly. "I have some experience with crowds," she replied. "Though I also seem to be able to maintain a certain amount of space around me, should I so desire."

The smaller girl looked startled, "Oh, I didn’t mean they were rough. I just...you didn't seem happy about the press at the club. I don't know if there will be reporters there and with all the attention things are getting a bit more out of hand."

"Perhaps I will wear a hat then," she said, trying to look reassuring. "It is not the crowds that bother me, but the press always shows up when I least wish them to be someplace. I just wish to be left alone sometimes."

"That would be good of you. I mean...not that you're not more interesting to write about than me." Given the choice between European royalty and a simple Irish girl, no reporter worth his byline would choose the singer. Shifting the books in her arms, Terry decided it was time for a subject change, "You're working with Elpis now, aren't you? Are you going to use your image to support that?"

"I am volunteering with Elpis," Medusa corrected her, careful to keep her tone neutral. A thoughtful look crossed her face as she considered the rest of Terry's statement. "In all honesty, I had not thought about using my image to support them." It was, in fact, a wonderful idea and one she would have to speak with Nathan and her parents about later. "I am much more used to my image being used in the tabloids than for anything productive."

"It could have done a lot of good in Prague. Like Diana before she died. She brought attention to things just by showing up." Terry's voice and expression were mild though she was curious as to why Medusa hadn't done just that. If they'd brought the world's attention to bear even a few days earlier, made it personal just a little bit sooner... Well, who knows what would have happened. "You don't like the term work?"

"It is not considered appropriate for me to work," she said simply. In truth, she did work and she knew it, but it was a semantics issue that had been drilled into both her and Crystal. "As for my image, it is difficult to balance using it appropriately and drawing the attention away from the situation at hand. I can almost imagine the paparazzi spin on Lady Medusalith slumming it in the Smichov ghetto. I can assure you the focus would not have been on the militants or the injustices.”

It made absolutely no sense to Terry. Nobility who treated work like a dirty word, particularly nobility whose titles didn't actually mean anything anymore, unlike the British royal family, were stuck in a world that didn't even exist. But then, Terry was a staunch nationalist so she didn't particularly have any interest in the gentry anyway other than wanting their hands off her homeland. "Well you'd know better than I would. You've lived with it all your life. It just seems to me that when famous people speak, people listen."

Terry's words stung. "Indeed I have. I have lived with my every movement documented. When I eat a cheeseburger, it is news worthy. Unfortunately, when I volunteer for a charity, it is not quite so exciting or scandalous as to make the news." Medusa took a deep calming breath, forcing herself to relax and think carefully. "That is not to say that you have not made a valid point. Perhaps I could have done more. I did what I thought best at the time."

Terry shrugged again, "Like I said, I wouldn't really know. It's not like you're Madonna, aye? Sure she gets lots of press for adopting a baby and the country gets attention to but it's a different circumstance." She shook her head, "I'm not trying to be second guessing you for nothing. I'm sure it wasn't a simple situation and after all Nathan was running the show."

"No indeed," Medusa agreed, her voice and face placidly neutral. "And you are right - Smichov was anything but simple."

She'd offended the noble, right enough. It would normally have made Terry feel bad, probably apologise even but she didn't know for what she'd be apologising. It wasn't as though she didn't believe anything that she'd said and 'I'm sorry if you were offended' was no kind of apology at all. "Well, sure you did good..." she cut herself off before she could say work. It might have made Medusa break out into hives. "Er, did good."

Medusa bowed her head, the books staying firmly in place. "Thank you." But you do not truly mean it. "Well, I did not mean to hold you up for so long. I am sure you have many things to do," she said with a gesture to the books and folders Terry was holding. "Perhaps I will see you this weekend."

Terry hid a wince. She was totally worthless today. "I hope you'll come," she replied lamely, clutching her notebook closer. "I'd like to have you there."

"I will be there," Medusa said, though she again doubted Terry's words. Another false smile and a wave and she was on her way back to her room, wondering why she had bothered to leave in the first place.