xp_logs | (no subject)

Yay for not being grounded anymore.

Warren and Clarice bond; eat sushi.

"This is the place I was telling you about," Warren explained as he held the door open. "Best sushi in upstate New York."

Clarice just looked at him as if he had lost his mind. "You expect me to eat raw fish?"

He stared back. "Well... yes. That's what sushi is. Haven't you ever tried it?"

She shook her head, causing her big earrings to hit her neck, "I like my food cooked."

Warren raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Do you, now? How do you know you like your food cooked if you've never had it uncooked?" He gently pushed her in. "Come on, just try some. Please? I've been craving sushi since Jake mentioned it during Christmas. If you don't like it, we'll go somewhere else. Alright?"

"Fine," Clarice agreed hesitantly, heading into the small restaurant. "Nothing crazy. No tentacles."

Warren grinned. "Great! I'll order for you. I think you'll like it." They moved to sit and Warren ordered from the waitress.

She returned shortly with two dishes, and placed one each in front of Clarice and Warren. "Enjoy," she said.

Warren glanced over at Clarice. "Come on. Dig in."

"Don't tell me what it is." She looked at it skeptically poking at it with a chopstick. She tried to pick it up with the chopsticks failing miserably. After the first several tries she had to ask, "Do they have forks?"

Warren left the table and returned with a plastic fork. "Voila." He picked a piece of sushi off of her plate with his chopsticks, and held it up to her mouth. "Open up."

She did so obediently hoping it wouldn't bite her back. It didn't, it was sweet with a little sour vinegar to give it some contrast. "It's good," she muttered. "Different."

He flashed a smile. "Told ya. Now use your fork and carry on."

"So, where's the big Russian?" Clarice asked, munching happily on her mystery sushi. "I thought he'd be here."

Warren, who had been inhaling his sushi in a rather ungentlemanly manner, chased it down with a big swig of water. "Piotr? He wanted to spend time with his sister tonight." He grabbed a piece and held it out. "Would you like to try some?"

"Um," she looked at it for a minute before shrugging. Warren's tastes hadn't killed her yet. "Okay," she took it gingerly and popped it in her mouth, briefly wondering what the little red stuff was on top.

She chewed quickly, chasing the sushi with large gulps of soda. "What was that!?" she demanded.

"Caviar. Guess you didn't like that one so much," he commented apologetically. He watched her recover for a bit, then turned back to his own plate. He put the last piece of sushi in his mouth and sighed happily. "Yum."

"You fed me fish eggs? You are strange," she pronounced, ignoring the fact that she was wearing her red and white-stripped pirate stockings with knee-high boots, "I don't know how people eat that stuff."

Warren just shrugged. "You'll learn." He stretched. "Ready to go when you are, Clarice, unless you want to get some dessert first."

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks," she stood, following him to the door, "Wanna go bowling?"

Warren eyed her footwear. "In that getup? I think those hot little pirate socks of yours would lose their effect if worn with bowling shoes."

She laughed, shaking her bottom a little, "The socks are nothing, it's the skirt you have to worry about!"

Warren nodded solemnly. "True. I was going to suggest clubbing, but I'd just end up helping you beat off the boys with a stick."

She looked at him like he was nuts and turned the image inducer off since the parking lot was empty. "Yeah, right. Whatever. Putt putt?"
potatonion: "Won't you be cold?" he asked. "With that skirt and all..." He paused. "Pool?"

"Sounds good," she agreed, flipping the image inducer back on. "I gotta ask though, how do you hide your wings?"

He made a face. "Harness. It's uncomfortable, and I hate having to hide my mutation, but there would just be too much of a fuss if I let them show out in the real world..." For an instant, what looked like unhappiness crossed his face, but before Clarice could be sure, it passed. "Ah good. Here's the car. The pool hall's not far."

She pulled a errant strand of hair out of her face and looked out the window. "Sorry, was wondering though. I agree with that. The hiding I mean."

Warren nodded. "It's not easy. What about you? Have you always... I mean, when did you mutation manifest?"

"My hair started turning purple when I was 12. That's when I started being all punk-rock and 'fuck that', it was an explanation and a way to not get beat up. I didn't teleport though until a few months ago. I freaked out," she said, rather matter-of-factly. "The dance coach wouldn't let me on the team."

He glanced over sympathetically. "I started growing wings when I was fourteen. My parents sought help, and that... that's how I came to meet Professor Xavier."

She nodded, "Wings sound cool, massively unpractical though. Purple is just a bitch to match your clothes to."

Warren let out a small laugh. "I beg to differ. They're quite practical when I'm using them. The rest of the time they're just annoying."

"That's why they're unpractical. They are only useful when you're flying and nothing else. They're big!"

He smiled ruefully. "Okay, okay, I see your point. What about you, huh? Teleporting must be a great way to travel, but if you and Kurt are any example, colorful skin seems to go hand in hand with that particular mutation."

She shook her head vehemently, "I don't teleport! Nu-uh. It gives me a headache and a nosebleed."

Warren parked the car and opened his door. "Here we are. A headache and a nosebleed, huh? You should talk to Kurt about that. Maybe he'll know what to do about that."

Aretz18: "Or not teleporting," she said, closing the conversation before they got to the pool hall doors.