Log: Amanda & Clarice

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Set Monday - Clarice goes to visit Mark at the hospital and then heads over to see if any of the XF people are around for lunch. She runs into Amanda and fuzziness ensues (literally over Clarice's head).



Finishing with Mark at the hospital, Clarice headed to the brownstone to see who else was around. She had not braved public transportation to only mock Mark. "Hello?" she called, entering the foyer. She probably should have called first, now that she thought about it.

"Hey, Pixie," came a familiar English accent behind her as Amanda came in through the doors. From the file bag dangling from her shoulder and the business casual, she'd just gotten back in from work. "Looking for anyone in particular?"

"Nope," Clarice replied with a smile, "Was in the area and thought I'd stop in. Busy?" Amanda looked like she was about to go somewhere.

"Fuck no - done for the day, so I was just going to head up to my place and crash for a bit." She grinned at Clarice. "Unless of course I happen to get waylaid by a mate, in which case I can probably see my way to going to the pub for a drink or two? If my mate's up for that sort of thing after the whole radiation thing?" It was said lightly, but there was a tinge of concern in Amanda's expression and voice.

Oooh, pub food was good. "No drinking for me," damn radiation and being underage combined did not work in her favour, "But I could go with some lunch. Mmmm, meat pasties," she grinned, licking her lips. "Lead on MacDuff!"

Lunch did sound good, especially since she'd started work early today. "All right then, I can manage food. Meat pasties, even," Amanda replied, hoisting her file bag on her shoulder as she turned around to head back out. "So, what brings you to the wilds of New York? Thought us lot were too scary for you mansion types to come visit?" she teased.

Ever since Amanda had introduced Clarice to meat pasties she had been obsessed with them. Rolling her eyes at the comment she stuck her tongue out at the witch, "Please. You dream," she scoffed, "I had to visit my fellow baldie. We're going to make t-shirts."

"Please tell me you didn't loan him a wig - I don't think the nurses could handle cross-dressing Mark just yet," Amanda joked. "I'm glad you went to see him, tho'. All this talk of coping with grief and the rest, but it's not like any of the ones cracking bad jokes actually have visited. Or even asked after him." The last was said with an eyeroll.

She shrugged, unperturbed by the idea of a cross-dressing Mark, "I offered, but he didn't like mine. Not that I blame him, they suck goat balls," but they were better than going stubbly. Melissa Ethridge she was not, but they did not make purple wigs to match her natural hair colour, "At least guys can shave their heads and it be perfectly acceptable, even if it may be a bad fashion choice. I just look like a goth wannabe with black hair."

"I like the GI Jane thing you've got going now, tho'," Amanda pointed out, ruffling the fuzz.

"Ew!" Clarice ducked, covering her head laughing, "I am not some troll doll you fuzz for good luck!" she screeched, reaching into her bag and pulling a wig on. Thankfully it was not the truly hideous one. "Nyah," idly she adjusted it so it was straight.

"Spoilsport," came the reply, and a mock-pout. "You're much hotter with the fuzz."

"Aren't we the fuzz? Technically?" okay, so they didn't have badges or guns, but who needed guns? "Mutant cops or whatever. You guys just hired that Bishop guy. The man has 'cop' tattooed on his forehead practically."

Amanda groaned as they reached the pub, holding the door open for the purple girl. "That was a bloody woeful pun, Pixie," she complained, following her in. It was a typical English-theme pub, the decorations making Amanda wince inside, but the beer and foor were reasonable. "And funny you should say that - Bishop used to be NYPD by all accounts." The usual hostility Amanda usually radiated when talking about police was noticeable absent.

"I know, I met him," oooh, happy pub! Not authentic pub, but Clarice wasn't picky. If Amanda was willing to go to it, the food and beer had to be good. Ordering a root beer from the waitress, she continued, "He said he was kinda like SWAT, but more. Seems pretty badass. What's he doing hanging around you guys? And how much does he know?"

Amanda ordered a beer for herself, secure in her fake ID. "You did?" she asked, surprised. "When was this? And he's part of the team - he was covering my arse during the whole mess we nearly lost Mark in. He's all right, in my book."

'Don't ask, don't tell' was more than a saying applied to homosexuals in the military, it was how the two groups lived their lives, "He was at Xavier's the other day. Decent enough, I guess, but how much does he know about what we do? I don't mean what you do, I mean what I do. Oh hell. You know what I mean."

"Meat pasty," she ordered, blithly ignoring the waitresses obvious stare and pointing at the one she wanted on the menu, "And fries," she added as an afterthought. Once the waitress left she picked up where they had left off, "It's so slow though! And security! Gah! Evil, evil I tell you!"
"He knows the standard - you lot dress up in bondage gear and go out in the big plane to save the world." Amanda grinned to take the sting out of the words and waited until the waitress had set their drinks down and left before going on. "The same as you lot know we aren't office workers and that Remy and Pete take us out on a regular basis to cause trouble for the bad guys. You know, the usual."

"Is this going to devolve into 'our field trips are better than your field trips' kinda thing?" Clarice asked, sucking on her soda through a straw, "But that's cool. I just wasn't sure if I was supposed to play the 'I'm not a fetishist' game or not. Gets confusing, fast. And you're just jealous because I'm not designing you customized leather goods."

"Nah. Besides, you lot have the jet. We have... commercial flights." Amanda pulled a face and reached for her beer. "I've seen more bad movies the past couple of years... And you know, it's not really that complicated. We know you lot have your thing, you lot know we have ours, and if we need details, the powers that be talk to each other. Tho' I still have that "Warwolves 101" to write up for Summers, now I'm remembering. Anyone we hire on is going to be part of the team - there's no way we could cover up what we do from someone working in the same office."

That had been the biggest problem when she was at Maryland in the dorms, explaining her injuries away. Her roommates hadn't much cared, but after a while, even they got suspicious. "Ew. I hate commercial flights. Those are the devil."

"I don't mind 'em as much as most - being small's got to have some advantages, right?" Especially given the spate of "short Amanda" jokes. Amanda looked up as the waitress appeared again. "Um, I'll get the bangers and mash, ta. Pixie?"

"Meat pasty," she ordered, blithely ignoring the waitresses obvious stare and pointing at the one she wanted on the menu, "And fries," she added as an afterthought. Once the waitress left she picked up where they had left off, "It's so slow though! And security! Gah! Evil, evil I tell you!"

If they'd been at Finnegan's, there would have been no staring. But unfortunately, Clarice had come to the brownstone, not the office. Oh well. "Isn't all plane travel slow to you, what with the teleporting and all?" she teased Clarice.

"You're catching on!" Clarice teased, she really hated commercial travel, even if she had to deal with it at the moment, "And it's not just plane travel. I mean, passports, visas, do I have anything to declare, it is all So Lame. I don't know how you stand it."

"It's what you get used to, isn't it?" Amanda replied philosophically. "I mean, I've never had the option of teleporting myself 'round the place, so plane travel's not so bad. Tho', back when I was in New Orleans, and my powers were gone, I didn't really miss 'em as much as you'd think. And these days I pretty much use the magic only when it's needed."

There was a time, not that terribly long ago, when Clarice had been so scared of her powers she had to be cajoled into using them, "I haven't teleported since I was nuked. And at first I didn't care because I was too busy trying not to die or keep food down. Now though, I feel fine and can teleport a little. Very limited. But then I got to the gym and it's like I can do nothing now. And I realize, I'm not fine."

"You need time to build up your strength again, Pixie. You don't take a hit like that without some serious damage - slow and steady, yeah?" There was sympathy in Amanda's voice however, and she reached over to pat the back of Clarice's hand. "You'll get back to it. It'll just take a while."

Making a face, Clarice agreed, "Slow and steady is not my style, Amanda. You know that. And it doesn't win the race either," more like gets you left behind.

"It's better than pushing too hard and knocking yourself back even further than when you started, tho'," Amanda pointed out reasonably. "Health's important, Pixie. You push too hard, you're likely to do yourself some real damage."

Laughing so hard she almost snorted her soda, Clarice took great big breaths trying to calm down, "Oh!" she gasped, Amanda's words hilariously funny to her, "So we're NOT following Nate's recovery program?" she asked, in mock seriousness. "I thought for sure some brain damage or bodily trauma was par for the course!"

Amanda chuckled ruefully. "See, Nate's pretty much an example of what not to do. And having the brain damage myself, I'm not actually keen to collect any more." She sipped at her beer. "Besides, there's no handy cheat any more. People have to learn to take care of themselves and heal the old-fashioned way."

"Yeah, yeah, couldn't get hurt while we had the handy get out the medlab free card, no, I had to be different," Clarice faux-moaned in an overly dramatic way before shrugging, "At least I'm used to it. And if nothing else, I got to eat lots of pudding. It wasn't worth getting nuked over, but at least no one said I was eating too much junk food," speaking of food, the waitress was weaving through the tables with their food now.

Amanda twitched a little at Clarice's casual words - that the 'get out of medlab free card' had been at the cost of Amanda's own health a lot of the time hadn't really registered for a lot of people. "Ta," she said to the waitress as a plate was set down before her, and she waited until Clarice had hers and the woman had moved on before raising her glass in toast. "Here's to speedy recovery and lots of pudding?" she suggested.

Clarice hadn't meant anything by her words, she had worked in the medlabs for years and had been one of the people Amanda had drawn on for power at least once and understood the cost, but that didn't change the perception sometimes, "And no more drain bramage!" Clarice agreed, raising her own glass.