Cecilia & Sooraya | Tuesday evening

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Cecilia and Sooraya paint some pottery (yes, really) and talk about ewers, brothers and why sometimes you have no choice but to fight.

"Pottery?"

Sooraya stared at her companion slightly incredulously as she steered the car into a parking lot. "We are going to make... plates? Cups?" It was not quite an activity she expected from the woman besides her when she asked her if she wanted join in.

"Well, not make them," Cecilia clarified. "Just... paint them. Or glaze them or whatever." She drummed her fingers idly on the door. "I'm not much of a painter, but it'll be fun. And you get to take home a nice fun bowl or jar or whatever — I think we get to pick — but you're not dealing with any of the messy clay business." She shrugged. "Beats sitting around."

The Afghan woman considered the idea a little more, then smiled and shook her head as she closed the car door. "As long as you know I am really not artistic. I never have really done any art." Though the idea of maybe something she had decorated herself was starting to sound strangely appealing.

Cecilia dropped her sunglasses in her purse and shifted the bag on her shoulder. "Well, me neither," she admitted. "But that's the point. You get to explore your artistic side, or develop one that existed or something." She headed toward the nondescript storefront. "That's what all these rich white ladies and their kids are here for, anyway."

"One's artistic side, heh? Let's see if I even have one. I mean, I like to experiment in the kitchen, but that is something totally different." Sooraya shook her head as they entered. "You know, I bet half of the people are just here because they'd like to mess around with clay and paint. I mean, it's a perfect excuse to get your hands dirty." She nodded at the women and kids who were eager digging around with their hands in the still wet clay at one side of the shop.

"Well, yeah," Cecilia smirked, "isn't that why we're here?" She led Sooraya toward the back of the shop, where bowls, vases and cups and dishware lined a long shelf. (As they moved, she swore she saw one woman move protectively toward her child, as if the intrusion of two women of color somehow threatened the bourgie sanctity of the place. But maybe it was her imagination. "What do you think? Cereal bowl? Or maybe a nice ewer for someone to destroy in a fit of rage?" She paused. "What's a ewer?"

"It reminds me of the watering vessels back in Afghanistan... So I think it's meant for holding liquids." Sooraya tilted her head, studying her choices. "I think I like that one." She pointed out the tea pot standing somewhat hidden in the back. "Though that might slightly ambitious, I do think it's something I would actually use and not just stand around looking pretty."

"No, go for it! Ambition is the point." Cecilia scooped up four ashtrays, clearing the way for Sooraya to nab the teapot. "If we fail, we fail spectacularly." She looked down at her arms, wondering if she could get away with dropping these. Who still smoked anymore? "You want to grab me that vase, too?" She nodded toward a concave vase that flared at the top.

"Alright." Sooraya carefully removed the teapot that had caught her eye and then did the same for the vase Cecilia had indicated. "How about we find a place somewhat out of the way? It would be slightly quieter and easier to chat a little."

"Sure," Cecilia agreed somewhat absently. She was scanning the shelves, looking for places to hide the ashtrays. "It's getting kind of loud with all the kids." She stood on her tiptoes and placed them gingerly on the lip of the top shelf. If they fell, it was gravity's fault. "Find some paints or glazes or whatever and lead the way."

Sooraya found a spot quickly, then hunted down the older woman who ran the atelier and listened as she patiently explained the various ways of decorating. She caught Cecilia frowning a few times and stifled a small giggle. Finally, they were left alone with their pottery, various paints and several brushes.

"Well," Cecilia glanced at the vase and then at Sooraya. "She just didn't want to shut up, did she?" She grabbed a brush at random. "Any thoughts on what you're going to paint? The only thing I can reliably draw is like... a heart valve."

"If that works, why not?" Sooraya grinned at Cecilia and dipped a slender brush in a deep green liquid. "You can make an anatomy vase." She focused for a moment as she made the careful strokes that formed the letter shïn of the Arabic alphabet. "And I think I want to try my hand at some of the calligraphy I saw in my Islamic art class last semester. Even if I have no chance of matching the skill of true masters." Carefully she shaped another letter.

"Don't be so sure," Cecilia shrugged. "You seem pretty talented to me." There was no way she would be making an anatomy vase, because odds were good it would end up being used as some kind of embalming jar the next time the X-Mansion was teleported to another dimension.

She grabbed a wide brush and dipped it in light blue glaze, then began applying a thin coat around the vase. "I used to see so much pottery in Honduras," she said after a minute. "From the Lenca, or what's left of them. Made me wish I had those skills."

"What kind of style did they use?" Sooraya carefully drew another letter, halfway below the other letters. "And the Lenca... are they a native tribe?"

"Yep. Indigenous. They make a lot of plates and vases - usually a burnt orange. Clay-colored, nothing too ornate." She dipped her brush into the sky blue paint and continued to coat the surface of the vase. "And they have all these co-ops too, that are, like, Lenca-inspired. They employ a lot of women who make and sell pottery in the Lenca style. Keeps people employed." She watched Sooraya's brushstrokes. "And away from the carteles."

"Carteles?" Sooraya asked as she switched from the dark green stain to a deep purple one.

"Drug cartels." Cecilia picked up a thinner brush and dipped into a kelly green. She wasn't used to taking about them in English. "Cocaine, heroin. Kick. Big problem. They offer money for a life of crime, and plenty of people aren't in a position to say no." She began painting fishes on the top of the vase.

"If it's the choice between feeding and caring for your family and joining in..." Sooraya nodded. She was familiar with at least some of how this went, having seen similar things with poppy farming in Afghanistan. "The lines must become a lot blurrier."

"Sure," Cecilia shrugged. She hadn't meant for things to become so heavy. "Anyway, it's nice. Pottery. Art. Doing something creative for a change." She reached into her purse for a bottle of water. "Surgery's fun," she grinned at Sooraya's expression, "well, I think it's fun. But it's very methodical."

"I did a Physiology and Anatomy class in high school and I had to dissect some things for that, but that was the limit of my surgical experience." Sooraya moved on to the sprout, drawing tiny characters over it with the deep purple stain. "Did you hear back from your brother after his leave changed?"

"No." She traded her brush for a fresh one and rummaged around for some deep blue paint. "Gotta love the military. So much emphasis on order and chaos but they can't tell him when he's coming home. It makes me think he must have been pulled onto something special. Which would be dangerous, I'm sure."

She painted tiny bubbles over one fish's mouth. "I love the guy, but he probably volunteered for something extra and didn't want to tell me."

"With which branch is he active within the military? It sounds like he is some kind of special forces." Sooraya was not hugely familiar with the United States Military, but having learned from her study of past missions that the X-men had sometimes worked along with certain forces, she had done a little reading.

"Army. I don't think he's on any special detail or anything. Wasn't initially. But we don't talk much about what he's doing. I think he doesn't want to worry me." She made a face. "Too late."

"I am guessing he probably worried about you as well, being in conflict area's like Honduras with Doctors without Borders?" She continued covering the sprout with tiny deep purple characters, giving the deep green stain on the main part of the pot the time to dry a little.

"Maybe. But he's not really the worrying type, I don't think." She put the brush down and turned the vase, trying to figure out how best to fill the space. "Do crabs swim? I can't really paint a turtle."

"I think they scuttle around on the sea floor? I am not exactly sure." Sooraya looked at the space indicated. "Perhaps some kind of dolphin might work? Or another fish?" Sooraya finished her work on the sprout and switched to a deep dark blue to apply accents to the characters on the main body of the pot. "Maybe he just does not show it?"

"Another fish it is," Cecilia grinned, deciding to use purple this time. Maybe she should have painted flowers, since this was a vase and not an aquarium. She dipped her brush in the glaze and found a dry spot to adorn. "You might be right. He's so easy to read in person, but when all we've got is e-mails, it's tough. Although I guess now that I'm back, we could Skype or something."

She watched Sooraya paint for a minute. "You're a natural. Any siblings?"

"No." Sooraya shook her head. "I was an only child. There were some other children around my age in the clan growing up though."

"It's a gift and a curse. I love my brother, especially with everything we've been through, but it's hard not to fall into old patterns. Sometimes I think he thinks he still has to protect me from things." Cecilia snorted. "If only he knew. I think he'd probably force me to move."

"You mean the... rather unique nature of the school?" Sooraya looked up from her painting, tilting her head. "Or the fact that you have certain talents?" She kept her words vague, in case someone overheard something.

"All of the above." Cecilia met Sooraya's eyes. "The... creatures, the foreign visitors. Logan." She grinned. "He... we never really talked about my talents, but I think he knows." He had to.

"Our world..." Sooraya trailed of, searching for words. "Our world can be hard to understand for people who are not a part of it... But your brother is a soldier. You would think he would understand wanting to fight for something... Because it sounds like you were just as much on the front lines in Honduras in a way..."

"And the mansion... the mansion is similar in some ways..."

"Is it?" Cecilia looked back down at her vase and began to paint another fish. "I always thought the mansion was more about safety than a battle."

"You are right. That is the intention." Sooraya shook her head for a moment. "But sometimes the battle lines do come to us so to speak. And fighting for something is not always done with a battle. There are many other weapons."

"Sure," Cecilia nodded. "Passive resistance. Mainstreaming. Rising above. All things I'm familiar with as a dark-skinned Latina from the barrio. But fighting?" She frowned. "Even when it's a necessity, I just can't... imagine. When I was at Sharon's deli, I met the glares of some of the people I saw there, and I saw a hatred that I just... to me it's unfathomable."

"And sometimes, you do not have a choice." Sooraya looked at her for a moment before focusing back on her tea pot. "It's not the only way and certainly not the best way, but sometimes..." She looked up again. "That is why I made the choice I did."

It was Cecilia's turn to tilt her head. "What do you mean?"

"That a number of people will not be affected by other weapons. I wish it was different, but they only seem respect force." Sooraya was careful to keep her voice low.

"Oh," Cecilia nodded and went back to her vase. She painted for a while, adding a fish in shades of blue. "I haven't reached that conclusion, I guess. Not... not yet anyway. But then I'm not much of a fighter. No real talent for it, anyway."

"Neither am I. But Genosha confirmed for me very clearly that it's a very necessary evil." Sooraya quickly glanced around, being very sure they were not overheard. Luckily the sound of the children and the machinery for the pottery wheels provided a decent cover as long as they spoke softly.

"You were there," Cecilia murmured, more a realization than a question. "I can't imagine what — I've never stared in the face of something like that."

"Many, even most of of us were. I was taking to be used as a hostage. I was lucky to be able to escape some it. But my friends were turned into mindless slaves. The girl I loved as little sister was killed." Sooraya explained, even as she kept her hands drawing quietly, making tiny characters over the lid, this time in a deep red.

"I'm so sorry," Cecilia responded, because that's what you said in times like this even though it was never adequate. She watched Sooraya, unsure what to say next.

"It is alright." Sooraya gave her a dark smile. "It is probably best you know. Both for the people you might be talking to and a somewhat bleak reminder of the risks." She paused for a moment. "Though that sounded incredibly cynical."

"Not cynical," Cecilia shook her head. "Just an acknowledgment of your reality - what you've seen, what you've experienced. But I haven't had those experiences so far, so it's hard for me to... put myself in that perspective." She looked back down at her vase. "That sounds callous. I don't mean it to be, I just... I'm inclined to believe in other ways."

"I do believe in them, Cecilia. And I strongly prefer them and even pursue them." Sooraya put down her pencil and folded her hands pensively, leaning her chin on them. "Do you train? I mean, at least learn enough you can defend yourself?"

"Sure," Cecilia said somewhat dismissively. "I mean, I've taken self-defense classes, but nothing serious. My 'gift' makes normal classes hard, and I'm not sure how to shut it down that easily. But it keeps me pretty safe, so. Learned a few tricks living in the mansion all that long ago, too. Enough to shut down a sketchy stalker."

Sooraya gave her a knowing smile and raised her eye brows, but didn't say anything else.

"I know, I know," Cecilia threw her hands up in a conciliatory gesture. "I have to learn more. Especially now that I'm living here. It's why I'm sticking around." She rubbed the back of her neck. "In my defense, I was kind of focused on the whole.., medicine thing."

"Only if you want to, Cecilia." Sooraya softened her look a little. "All I meant to say was that you do have a powerful tool for your self-defense. Do not neglect that if you do want to pursue that course."

"Yeah, no, you're right." Cecilia was trying really hard not to scoff. Like she didn't know the only-if-you-want-to trick. "And I'm at the school now, so I should, you know." She waved her hands while looking for the right words. "Take advantage of that." Even if she was generally reluctant to do so.

Sooraya just let her gaze soften a little more. "I am sorry, Cecilia. I did not mean to push you. I am something of a worrywart sometimes."

"No, no, it's okay." Cecilia smiled at her. "You have a point. I mean," she looked around before lowering her voice, "if I'm going to be living in a danger magnet, I really should be making a greater effort to be prepared. You've experienced a lot more of life at the mansion these days than I have, and you are trying to give me a heads up, which I appreciate. No apologies necessary."

Sooraya nodded and smiled before gently kidding in an attempt to lighten things just a little: "And not just the mansion is a danger magnet. Sometimes I think it's catching and if you stay long enough..."

"Ha!" Cecilia grinned and looked around. "Fair enough. You think one of these moms is packing heat?" She winked at Sooraya and nodded to a stout soccer mom-type on her left. "Bet it's her."

"Hmmm... I don't know..." Sooraya picked up her pencil again, subtly eying the woman. "I think it is far too obvious. I'd say it's her." She nodded at a tiny, slender woman with thick glasses in the corner who was helping her son roll out some clay. "Beware the quiet ones, as some would say."

"Ah, but you're pretty quiet." Cecilia smirked before looking back down at her vase. "Was that you're way of telling me to keep my distance?"

The Afghan girl let a small smile cross her face as she replied: "Perhaps and perhaps not. I think with us mansion people, you never know, quiet or not."

"Oh boy." Cecilia dabbed her brush and touched up the edges on one of her fish. "Don't like the sound of that." She winked. "I've got my eyes on you, Qadir."