xp_logs | Log: Decorating Committee (Forge/Medusa)

Forge finally runs into Medusa, who is busy looking for that one last thing to make the Winter Ball decor perfect. The issue of cultural acceptance comes up, and Medusa discovers that discussion with Forge is somewhat like fencing with a Slinky; often awkward and problematic, and never quite what you expect.

Medusa stood in the doorway to the ballroom, her head turning this way and that, as strands of hair extended to hang various decorations around the room. As she put up the last few movie posters she had ordered, she paused to survey her work. Frowning, she cocked her head. Something was still missing.

"Spotlights," came the voice from behind her. Forge stood with his hands in his pockets, looking over the posters and the black-and-white "clacker"-style crepe running the length of the walls. "If you're going for the whole classic Hollywood look, you ought to use spotlights instead of area lighting."

Giving a small self-conscious shrug, he walked over with one hand extended. "I'm sorry, we've never actually been introduced. I'm Forge, your sister's been helping me these past few weeks with the mail."

She reached out and shook his hand firmly, bowing her head slightly at the same time. "It is a pleasure to meet you Forge," she said smoothly. "I am Medusa Amaquelin, though I am sure you were already aware of that." Turning back to survey the room, she placed one hand on her hip. "And I believe you have just answered the question that had been bothering me. Now all that remains is to see if spotlights can be added with less than a week to the dance. "

Forge put a hand to his chin, thinking for a moment, then raising a finger in realization. "Not a problem. A few of the former students here had what passed for a band a while back. People Covered In Fish, they called it." He frowned dramatically. "Yeah, I know, no accounting for taste. And unless I am wrong, and I am rarely wrong, they have about a dozen mini-spotlights in the music room that they used for stage effects. I can hook them up through a preprogrammed timer as well. Ergo, appropriate mood lighting."

Medusa didn't bat an eyelash at the name of the band before flashing Forge a brilliant smile when she realized he would arrange the lights. "Wonderful. It is often the little things that make the difference at these types of functions." With Crystal in Hawaii, Medusa was sorely lacking a person to work through the last minute details of the dance and with Forge there, she figured she could at least gather his opinion. Gesturing at the room, she lifted one eyebrow inquisitively. "Other than the lights, does anything else seem to be missing? Or is anything too over the top for the individuals here?"

"For the folks here?" Forge chuckled behind his hand. "You'd need go-go dancers popping out of the ferns before it would be TOO over the top. I really think they'll enjoy it. Are you going to be attending as well? I don't know if it'll be as grand as the big royal galas back home, but it'll be fun anyway."

Medusa shrugged slightly. "My sister and I were led to believe that the student body here," she paused almost imperceptibly, "may not appreciate the same manner of event that we were raised to enjoy." She cast her gaze around the room again, surveying the fruits of her and Crystal's energy. "I hope that everyone who decides to attend enjoys the evening's festivities, myself included. Will you be there as well?"

"Oh, I doubt it," Forge said quickly. "I figure this is more of a student thing, you know? With all the stress and stuff recently, they need it to unwind a lot more than I do. Besides, I'm not much of a dancer." Thinking about the first part of Medusa's statement, Forge leaned casually against the wall and chose his words carefully.

"Although," he began, "I don't mean to offend, but I think you and your sister are operating under as big a misconception as you seem to perceive the student body here does. You're right, it's a different world here from Attilan. None of the folks here, even those from rich families, have had the kind of upbringing you guys have. The concept of royalty kind of went out of style here a few centuries ago."

Ignoring the latter part of his statement at first, Medusa turned back to face Forge. "It would be silly for you to aid in the preparations and not at least make an appearance to view the finished product. And," she added as she turned, "when the students are stressed, it seems to be fairly contagious to the teachers and staff. "

With her back turned, she allowed her calm façade to slip for a moment, her frustration evident on her face. "I do not know that many individuals intend to offend when they do. My ideas surrounding the student body here are those that I developed through my encounters with them and those that Crystal has told me about. We are quite aware that our upbringing was atypical and I do not expect for the other residents to act or even talk as I do. All I expect is that they offer the same respect and courtesy that is offered to them."

"But what you're missing," Forge explained, "is that sometimes it doesn't come across as respect, but quite the opposite. For example, you tend to speak formally, even in casual conversation. Partly, I assume, because English isn't your first language, but partly because that's how conversations are for you guys, I'm guessing."

He rubbed his forehead in frustration before continuing. "Crystal often seems distant, when I realize she's just trying to be polite. Other people see that as arrogant and aloof, and one misconception begets another, like a domino effect, you know?"

"I see," Medusa said. Turning to face Forge once again, she adopted an American accent. "So if we spoke this way and stopped being different, we'd be accepted?" She shook her head, a faint curve to her lip. "Somehow I doubt it. You are quite right about the domino effect and it goes both ways. Yet always we are asked to change instead of others offering acceptance. I would not ask any of the residents to speak in a formal manner to set my mind at ease. Yet I am asked to drop my formal language and actions so that others can better understand my intentions?"

Forge spread his arms in a gesture of surrender. "I don't know. There's the old phrase: when in Rome, do as the Romans do? I don't mind the way you talk, either of you. But I'm a genius, so that's not a very good standard to expect everyone else to hold to."

"Regardless," he offered, "the fact that the both of you are going to all this trouble to help out with something that's not your own personal custom? That says a lot, and I think everyone will appreciate it. I mean, I doubt anyone's going to suddenly declare that they love you forever, but somehow I also doubt that was the intent." Forge paused for a moment, then cocked his head. "But on that note, you're engaged, aren't you? Affianced, betrothed... whatever they call it? To Crown Prince Whatsisname?"

Medusa had been ready with a witty retort – and then Forge had kept talking. "We…that is, Blackagar and I," she began, obviously caught off guard by the change in topic. "The prince and I have no formal plans at this point to pursue marriage," she finally managed, keeping to the official statement of the royal family.

"No formal plans?" Forge arched an eyebrow. "If you say so. That'd kind of make you... Queen-to-be or something, wouldn't it? Wow. I don't think I've ever hung out with a potential Queen before. And I totally don't mean that in any sarcastic way. It's just, like I said, it's an entirely different world than what I'm used to. Granted, a lot of what goes on here is still culture shock for me as it is."

Regaining the composure she'd lost, Medusa nodded. "Well, you can no longer state that you have never done so." Swiftly changing the subject, she seized upon the last bit of his comment. "Pardon my curiosity, but what around here serves as culture shock for you? I often feel as though no one else is surprised by any of the happenings here."

Forge composed himself for a moment, trying to think of how to best explain his reasons for coming to the school. "When I was younger, I didn't fit in at all socially. Quiet, far more intelligent than any of my peers, and with the luck of the genetic draw, being the smallest one in your class often makes you an easy target for ridicule. Or worse. After a few years of that, I'd become convinced that everyone was like the folks who'd use me as an outlet for their own frustrations, you know? Push down the weak kid to make yourself feel a little stronger. Pick on the outcast so your peers don't pick on you. And when I came here, this--" he held up his artificial arm, the metal fingers extending and curling slowly, "--didn't give me a lot of reason to believe people here would behave any differently. But they do. I just had to give them the chance to."

Though her privileged life had buffered her from the effects of bullying, Medusa well understood what it meant to be singled out for things you had no control over. "There are certain things," she said with a wave of her hair, "that the residents here seem to have no difficulty accepting. I am glad that you have found acceptance here."

"And they accept you two," Forge answered, "you and Crystal both. For who and what you are. It's the same that everyone else gets. It might feel that people expect you to change to fit in, but... that's just not how it is. You might not feel that people give you and your sister the kind of respect you're used to at home, but... you're a lady of privilege, if you don't mind me saying. And you were out there in the thick of things in Smichov. Crystal went to San Diego, she's out there in Hawaii right now." He folded his arms and nodded at Medusa with a slight smile. "If you ask me, that right there says a lot more about who you are than any title or noble birth ever could. That's what I respect about the both of you. That, and this," he nodded around to the decorations.

"Speaking of which," Forge added as he looked down at the time displayed on the back of his hand, "I'd better zip down and get you those spotlights before I have to leave for a study group." He gave a small nod of his head in lieu of a formal bow, then paused again. "So, if I were to show up at this Winter Ball, what're the odds I could swing a dance with a queen-to-be without causing an international incident?"

Medusa didn't stop the edges of her lips from quirking upwards. "I thought you didn't know how to dance," she said, one eyebrow arching up to convey the jest in her words. Turning she took a step into the ballroom, pausing to call out one last sentence over her shoulder. "See you on Friday."