Genosha: In the Balance- Pants on Fire

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

Clarice is interrogated. She talks, a lot. Though most of it not exactly truthful. Or serious.


There were four rooms dedicated specifically for gathering information. They were rather ordinary and boring: four walls, a camera mounted to the ceiling, a table, two chairs, a door.

It was the people in them who made the rooms what they were.

Clarice sat in one of the chairs, staring at her handcuffed arms in their prison orange through her hair. It was hanging in her face. In any other circumstance she would probably find this funny since it was almost straight out of CSI or any other cop show on TV. It wasn't funny right now at all though since she was the one shackled securely, hands and feet, with no hope for escape. At least, no hope right this moment. She grinned to herself, then began to sing Born This Way by Lady Gaga.

The interrogator pushed the door open with his foot after unlatching it with a hook of his little finger. He pushed his way in with a few files and a plate of biscuits all precariously balanced together. He moved to the table directly to set them down. "I haven't heard that one before." The man noted of the song.

"It's Born This Way, by Lady Gaga," Clarice replied politely. She wasn't much of a singer anyways. The song was a few years old and very overplayed, she would have thought that even in the jungles of the Amazon they would know it. "You know, about how you can't change your skin or whatever because that's how you were born. And it's amazing."

"And absolutely fitting I imagine you feel, considering the circumstances." The brown haired man set the plate in the middle of the table. "Do you take them with milk? I can send out for some."

"Haters gonna hate. Don't suppose you have any scotch?" Clarice asked, unsurprised that he didn't like her song. "It's not about being a mutant specifically. Disabilities, skin colour, sexuality. Lots of things for people to get upset about that you can't control."

"I am not sure how scotch and biscuits fair but I can manage that." The man pushed his rimless glasses up the end of his nose before standing and moving to the door. He had a short conversation with someone outside before looking back to Clarice. "While we wait, I'd like to introduce myself. My name is Brian Razanamasy. I am assigned to your interview."

"Candy Cane," Clarice replied, keeping her face straight. It really didn't matter if he knew her real name or not. Anyways, that had been her stripper name once. "I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, but well...You've got me handcuffed in chains and wearing the worst shade of orange imaginable. The fashion police will come and avenge me."

"I don't have you handcuffed, I just walked in." Brian pointed out without a sharp tongue. He stepped back as an officer brought in a small glass of brown liquor. "Please remove her handcuffs as well, then that will be all." The interrogator returned to his seat across from Clarice after the officer left.

"Now, Miss Candy Cane. Perhaps we can just have a conversation?" He smiled pleasantly.

"Sure," she agreed, sitting quietly and not arguing about who had handcuffed her as they were removed. Clarice, for all that she acted stupid, wasn't and she knew that if they were willing to remove them then they didn't consider her much of a threat. Plus, there was probably some sort of sedative or truth drugs or whatever in that drink. Once her hands were free, she took the shot, swallowing quickly. Cooperation, that was the name of her game. "Wow. That burned in ways that I haven't felt since that night with Bowie. Whatcha want to talk about?" He was in control after all. And it was important to let him think that.

"Tell me about how you heard about Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. And how you came to study and reside there, please." Brian asked politely with a not all together unpleasant smile.

"Oh, please," Clarice rolled her eyes, "Xavier's is like...a mad house in the best possible way. My parents dropped me off on Christmas when I was 15. My parents divorced when I was younger, it was SO much drama with them fighting. They're both lawyers, but my mom is insane and wants to save the lobsters or some such shit, but she married this guy who hates mutants a few years ago and we haven't spoken in years. I mean really, who does that? So rude. And my dad is actually pretty conservative. I guess that's why the marriage didn't last. He remarried when I was in middle school, so I've actually got two older stepsisters. One's married, but I didn't go to the wedding. I'd lost all my hair from being irradiated by a nuke and well, bald and emaciated is not a good look for me. It's better though than that time I went blonde. Now that was a disaster, let me tell you. But anyways, I think my parents sending me to Xavier's was their last decision actually together as parents. Not that I was consulted or anything. I'd been expelled from school for being a mutant and my mom was so sick of me being around the house all the time, but I was so over that too so anything to get out. Not that I wanted to get dumped on Christmas of all times at some bizarro boarding school. Everyone was so nice even though I was such a bitch. Seriously. I even got Christmas presents from people. I realized later after I'd been there a while that they're used to abrupt arrivals with really pissed off teenagers and mine was a lot better than many. My roommates though? Ugh. I'd never had to share my room and I suddenly had two roommates. I think I was going to kill them. One was really, really religious. And clearly, I'm not all into that. The other one had this arrogant, know-it-all attitude," Clarice finally paused to breath, "Actually, she still does. Huh."

"Some people don't change." Brian offered amiably, taking very few notes for such a long response. He knew giving a slew of useless facts was just as much a resistance and not speaking at all but the interrogator was willing to let it play out a bit longer. "Tell me more about how you were irradiated. Was that while working with the X-men?"

"Working with the X-Men?" Clarice snorted and rolled her eyes, "That would involve getting paid somehow, right? And I don't see any paychecks in my bank account. Nope. Definitely not while working for the X-Men," she was perhaps stretching the definition, but whatever, she was rolling with it. "Nah. Had cancer. Fuck cancer," she spat, annoyed. It was not the truth, but it was what she always said when the topic came up, which it did from time to time since she'd had to do a medical withdrawal from school for the semester and things. It was in her transcripts. "You know how in movies they do the chemo and the radiation and it is sad and heartbreaking, but somehow, despite it all, the heroine looks so tragically beautiful? Yeah, that's not reality. Mostly I puked a lot and lost a ton of weight I really didn't need to lose and couldn't see my friends or do anything remotely fun because I might get sick with a lowered immune system and I had no energy anyways. It sucked ass. I'm better now though. I mean, well, remission, which is as good as it gets. You never really 'get better.'"

"What kind of cancer?" Brian asked curiously as he took notes. "I should inform the medical staff you are in remission so they can check your health."

"Leukemia," she answered, again a stock answer shed given before to placate the curious and cover up what had really happened. "my last check was two months ago," Clarice didn't add anything about there being no need to check because that was sure to tip him of that they should. "What else you want to know? My childhood pet? Favorite sexual position?"

Brian closed his file and stood with a slight smile. "No, thank you. This will do until we have the results of your medical exam." They didn't irradiate cancer patients 'with a nuke.' If he caught her in a lie, he'd be able to reason with her better. "I'll see you then." He offered amiably before heading for the door.

Clarice's eyes narrowed as his back turned. Something was up. She then smiled sunnily, "Hope your dog gets hit by a car!" she chirped pleasantly.