Log: Clarice and Mrs. Gibney

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On her way home from work Clarice runs into Kyle's mom. They have a good, albeit short, conversation on using mutant powers in public then Clarice gets to go up and pass out. This is set before Clarice zombie-meets Monet's mom.



When Clarice had asked for wheels for graduation her parents had given her a bike. It was not what she had wanted. At all. However, she had ridden it during her freshman year of college and now she was using it to get to and from work just like any other 19yr old girl. That she could teleport didn't much matter since it was so nice out. Biking was good exercise too, although she wasn't appreciating it at the moment. She was exhausted from working a 24hr EMT sihft and only wanted her bed. Pulling up to the back door, she chained the bike to the porch and headed inside.

Marjorie waited by the door, tapping her foot impatiently. Of -course- Tyler would need to talk to the boy man-to-man -again- right before they left. Sometimes she thought he did it to annoy her. It would't be her fault if another one of those mutants who paraded it around like it was something to be proud of got upset because she didn't approve.

And, of course, right on cue was yet another one. The purple one, who had delivered Kyle the first Thanksgiving the boy had come home. "I thought you could tele.. part. port. Whatever you do." she said.

Clarice raised an eyebrow, surprised that Kyle's mom would remember her, it had been a few years ago. "Does that mean I can't ride a bike if I want to?" she asked, pulling her EMT baseball hat off and shaking her hair out of it's braid. "Or did I miss a memo again?" she was tired and didn't much want to put up with the crap from parents day on top of everything else.

"I thought you people... " What was the line that Kyle had told her... "were being taught how to use your powers here." Marjorie stared at the bike so as not to have to look at Clarice directly. "Why are any of you here if you're not using them?"

Clarice had a pretty Clarice-styled bike. It was an old-fashioned blue bike with whitewalled tired and glitter streamers on the handlebars. She'd taken the white basket off the front and strapped her bag to the back. It was a nice bike, even if it wasn't a car. "My coworkers get all flustimicated if I just teleport in randomly," she explained, picking her bag up, "So on nice days I ride my bike. We're learning more than just how to use our powers here. We're learning how to live in a world that doesn't much like us, too. And that means not flaunting your powers sometimes."

Marjorie snorted. "Well, I suppose if at least one of you has figured out that people don't need to see those things right up in their faces." Even if the girl was -purple-. Couldn't she cover it with makeup? "Maybe you can convince my son to feel the same way?"

Clarice shook her head a small smile on her face, "I'm purple Mrs. Gibney. If that's not in your face, I don't know what is. Mutantcy should be prominent, because until I can walk down the street and not get a second glance the world needs to be exposed to mutants.They should learn to understand it, because people fear what they don't understand. And I might be a lot of things, but feared shouldn't be one of them." It was rare for Clarice to get on her soapbox about these things, she prefered to simply live her life instead of preach to others, but in this case, it seemed like the right tihng to do.

So much for thinking one of them had some -sense- in their heads. No wonder Kyle was acting the way he was lately. But before Marjorie could start to say more than a "Wait just a minute here.", she was interuppted by Tyler, coming out the back door. "Midge, leave the poor girl alone. Can't you see she's been working? You remember what emergency shifts were like, don't you?"

And then she couldn't very well say anything, if he was going to be like -that- about things, and if it meant she could leave and go home faster, so be it. She handed Tyler her bag, and walked stiffly down to where he'd pulled their rental car up and got in.

Clarice had sense? It was all lies, damned lies and statistics! "Nice seeing you again Mrs. Gibney!" Clarice called back shooting Mr. Gibney a grateful smile.

"Twentyfour hour shifts are always fun!" she said to him, the exhaustion evident now, "but youth and stupidity are a great excuse!"