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xp_logsClarice and Marie-Ange go through hair and skin care items to give to some of the other mansion residents, and MA tries to recruit Clarice. It ... goes okay, but not quite like Marie-Ange wanted.
Clarice tried to juggle the box she carried and knock on the door in front of her and then gave up, setting the box down to try again. This time, her knock was less polite and not just banging. Because she was ready to dispose of it all.
"Unlocked!" The door to Marie-Ange's suite opened itself, one of her constructs paffing away in the moment it swung open. The french spy was at the door a moment later, a befuddled expression on her face. "I ... why are you a giant box?" Clarice had texted, but Marie-Ange hadn't expected -an entire box-
"I cleaned out my bathroom!" Clarice chirped. Was it entirely too early to be awake and chipper? Yes. Had she been up nearly all night? Also yes. But her bathroom looked beautiful! "And I brought you a bunch of stuff I thought you'd like."
Marie-Ange blinked. "I was expecting a few items." in Clarice's defense, Marie-Ange could've probably done similar if she didn't have a product stealing cousin. "Well, I had thought to just try items but perhaps we need to be the skin care ... ah.." She tilted her head. "Easter rabbit? Skin care cryptids. Leave packages for people. Half this mansion needs a good deep condition."
"There's a reason all the newbies got those laundry baskets of personal care items for Christmas," she replied, forcing her way in to set the box down. "I had to teach one how to shower. In their defense, they were showering daily. But they needed a step by step guide, so I showed them how and then wrote it all out. With the disclaimer that as they get practice and familiarity, they'll likely make adjustments."
"Clarice. Half the people who have arrived in the last six months have traumatic lives so horrific that I had to put a warning on the files we have." Marie-Ange busied herself with the tea, because it kept her hands busy while she explained. "My files. For people who do murder on a semi regular basis, and I have had to warn. We have an entire crop of severe trauma in this mansion. If you were not giving them care packages I would wonder if you had been possessed." A pause. "And you are on my list of least likely to actually be possessed. You have common sense." .. and a sword.
Now that was a terrifying thought. Since when was she the one with sense? Good lord she'd grown up without realizing it. Also, not the first time she'd had the revelation, it had just been a while. "Oh, right...I keep forgetting. Murder is wrong. And yet. Some people just improve the world by not being in it."
"Is it though?" Marie-Ange brought over a mug of tea to Clarice, had one for herself, and cracked open the box. "Can we talk about that, actually? What is stopping you from taking up one of the offices in my building? I was not intending to recruit you... but..." She set her own mug down, ignored the cardboard and skin care and deep conditioning masks. "I know, purple. Not designed for stealth, do you know what I could do with a fully trained physicians assistant who can teleport, is sharp, and who knows both how to listen to a plan and how to tell me to fuck off?" The profanity always - always - sounded odd coming out of Marie-Ange. It was still the correct phrase.
Telling Marie-Ange to fuck off always made Clarice so happy. It wasn't something anyone got to do often. She sighed, making herself comfortable, "Back then I was young and idealistic and didn't think I had other options," she spoke slowly, thoughtfully. Carefully. "I didn't think...I could do what you needed to do. Now, I'm mostly just tired and feel like Sisyphus. I'm not against helping. Or telling you to fuck off, but I'm not sure I want to make that commitment to any team. I've been taking rock climbing classes and joined a raquetball club. It's fun, having time for me. "
"So consult for me. Part-time." Marie-Ange offered. "I am serious. Do you know how few people will look me in the eye and tell me I've gotten pretentious and up my own arse?" She went back into the box of haircare products. "Ooh, seaweed mask. I am stealing this. Yes, half my team will. Most of them though, will try to be careful about it. You would just come in and stab me with words."
"Marie-Ange, you have always been pretentious and up your own ass, it's your default," Clarice pointed out fondly, "But, you've mellowed out some over the years. And stabbing you is fun. I'd bring bandaids, too. But...let me think about it?"
"Which reminds me, we are overdue for sword night. Curse all of our over booked schedules. I am going to text Kurt right now." She does, and Doug, - and Shatterstar, and Angelo, because, really, who does not love time in the Danger Room with swords and whatever ridiculous scenario Marie-Ange can get Doug to program in. "But that is what I mean. My team should all be willing to, you are willing to, so come work for me." Entirely circular logic, but Marie-Ange was smiling - a smile that on anyone else would be a grin. "How do you have so many snail face creams? How. Do the snails like you?"
"Snail mucus is the rage in Korea. Do you not know anything about fads?" Clarice shook her head, "They'll keep you looking 28 forever. 15 step process, takes forever but aren't we worth it?" Clearly not, she was getting rid of them. And who realistically had time for all that? "I can't work for you if I have a 15 step skincare routine that takes an hour. Duh."
"I know they are trending. I just do not know why." Marie-Ange said. "I also noticed you avoided the question about working for me.. I think we should distribute them, I do not want snails on my face."
"Technically, it is the snail mucin. It's supposed to help hydrate, prevent acne and scarring, you know, the usual stuff. Research is inconclusive, but of course, there's funding," she rolled her eyes, there was plenty of stuff that could benefit from that funding without it being the skincare industry. "What do you want me to say?" She asked, "I don't know that I want to? I'm....I'm tired. We fight and espionage and corporate and legal and underground and....what? We aren't moving forward, we're just at a stalemate."
"'I need a rest,' is what I wanted to hear," Marie-Ange put all the snail face creams aside. She had limits, snail mucin was one of them. "No is a complete sentence, I just needed to hear a no. Nobody should work for me, even when I really want them to, I just always ask."
Chuckling, she couldn't argue that. "No one should say yes to any of this," she answered, "but we all did in our own ways. I'll wear the X if needed, but...you ever think about what normal life is like? I don't want it, but it has....not appeal per se. But different challenges that are intriguing. But it's not a 'no,' either."
"You can teleport to Lima on a whim for Lomo Saltado, I do not think your life would ever be normal, Clarice." Marie-Ange said. "None of us get normal, so we try to be as normal as we can around it." Marie-Ange held up a container from the box, turned it around in her hands, and then set it down. "Going to get Doug to translate that one. Not a single english word."
"Yeah, I used google translate, it wasn't bad," it wasn't as good as Doug, but then it wasn't really a challenge for him. Google could use more practice, "No, we don't get normal. But at the same time...this isn't working. So, time for me to find a new normal."
"And while you search for that, we play skin care fairy godmothers. Do you think we would get in trouble if we also distributed wine. Some of the children are children still, yes?"
"We have a few under 21, but only one under 18, I believe," Clarice said, "I think we can distribute, just avoiding them. We'll get them boba or whatever the drink trend is today," it was hard to keep up with these things. She was so old now.
"Well, it is only the under 18 I am worried about. The rest are in college, or doing more drugs that I did at that age. Or both."
Clarice tried to juggle the box she carried and knock on the door in front of her and then gave up, setting the box down to try again. This time, her knock was less polite and not just banging. Because she was ready to dispose of it all.
"Unlocked!" The door to Marie-Ange's suite opened itself, one of her constructs paffing away in the moment it swung open. The french spy was at the door a moment later, a befuddled expression on her face. "I ... why are you a giant box?" Clarice had texted, but Marie-Ange hadn't expected -an entire box-
"I cleaned out my bathroom!" Clarice chirped. Was it entirely too early to be awake and chipper? Yes. Had she been up nearly all night? Also yes. But her bathroom looked beautiful! "And I brought you a bunch of stuff I thought you'd like."
Marie-Ange blinked. "I was expecting a few items." in Clarice's defense, Marie-Ange could've probably done similar if she didn't have a product stealing cousin. "Well, I had thought to just try items but perhaps we need to be the skin care ... ah.." She tilted her head. "Easter rabbit? Skin care cryptids. Leave packages for people. Half this mansion needs a good deep condition."
"There's a reason all the newbies got those laundry baskets of personal care items for Christmas," she replied, forcing her way in to set the box down. "I had to teach one how to shower. In their defense, they were showering daily. But they needed a step by step guide, so I showed them how and then wrote it all out. With the disclaimer that as they get practice and familiarity, they'll likely make adjustments."
"Clarice. Half the people who have arrived in the last six months have traumatic lives so horrific that I had to put a warning on the files we have." Marie-Ange busied herself with the tea, because it kept her hands busy while she explained. "My files. For people who do murder on a semi regular basis, and I have had to warn. We have an entire crop of severe trauma in this mansion. If you were not giving them care packages I would wonder if you had been possessed." A pause. "And you are on my list of least likely to actually be possessed. You have common sense." .. and a sword.
Now that was a terrifying thought. Since when was she the one with sense? Good lord she'd grown up without realizing it. Also, not the first time she'd had the revelation, it had just been a while. "Oh, right...I keep forgetting. Murder is wrong. And yet. Some people just improve the world by not being in it."
"Is it though?" Marie-Ange brought over a mug of tea to Clarice, had one for herself, and cracked open the box. "Can we talk about that, actually? What is stopping you from taking up one of the offices in my building? I was not intending to recruit you... but..." She set her own mug down, ignored the cardboard and skin care and deep conditioning masks. "I know, purple. Not designed for stealth, do you know what I could do with a fully trained physicians assistant who can teleport, is sharp, and who knows both how to listen to a plan and how to tell me to fuck off?" The profanity always - always - sounded odd coming out of Marie-Ange. It was still the correct phrase.
Telling Marie-Ange to fuck off always made Clarice so happy. It wasn't something anyone got to do often. She sighed, making herself comfortable, "Back then I was young and idealistic and didn't think I had other options," she spoke slowly, thoughtfully. Carefully. "I didn't think...I could do what you needed to do. Now, I'm mostly just tired and feel like Sisyphus. I'm not against helping. Or telling you to fuck off, but I'm not sure I want to make that commitment to any team. I've been taking rock climbing classes and joined a raquetball club. It's fun, having time for me. "
"So consult for me. Part-time." Marie-Ange offered. "I am serious. Do you know how few people will look me in the eye and tell me I've gotten pretentious and up my own arse?" She went back into the box of haircare products. "Ooh, seaweed mask. I am stealing this. Yes, half my team will. Most of them though, will try to be careful about it. You would just come in and stab me with words."
"Marie-Ange, you have always been pretentious and up your own ass, it's your default," Clarice pointed out fondly, "But, you've mellowed out some over the years. And stabbing you is fun. I'd bring bandaids, too. But...let me think about it?"
"Which reminds me, we are overdue for sword night. Curse all of our over booked schedules. I am going to text Kurt right now." She does, and Doug, - and Shatterstar, and Angelo, because, really, who does not love time in the Danger Room with swords and whatever ridiculous scenario Marie-Ange can get Doug to program in. "But that is what I mean. My team should all be willing to, you are willing to, so come work for me." Entirely circular logic, but Marie-Ange was smiling - a smile that on anyone else would be a grin. "How do you have so many snail face creams? How. Do the snails like you?"
"Snail mucus is the rage in Korea. Do you not know anything about fads?" Clarice shook her head, "They'll keep you looking 28 forever. 15 step process, takes forever but aren't we worth it?" Clearly not, she was getting rid of them. And who realistically had time for all that? "I can't work for you if I have a 15 step skincare routine that takes an hour. Duh."
"I know they are trending. I just do not know why." Marie-Ange said. "I also noticed you avoided the question about working for me.. I think we should distribute them, I do not want snails on my face."
"Technically, it is the snail mucin. It's supposed to help hydrate, prevent acne and scarring, you know, the usual stuff. Research is inconclusive, but of course, there's funding," she rolled her eyes, there was plenty of stuff that could benefit from that funding without it being the skincare industry. "What do you want me to say?" She asked, "I don't know that I want to? I'm....I'm tired. We fight and espionage and corporate and legal and underground and....what? We aren't moving forward, we're just at a stalemate."
"'I need a rest,' is what I wanted to hear," Marie-Ange put all the snail face creams aside. She had limits, snail mucin was one of them. "No is a complete sentence, I just needed to hear a no. Nobody should work for me, even when I really want them to, I just always ask."
Chuckling, she couldn't argue that. "No one should say yes to any of this," she answered, "but we all did in our own ways. I'll wear the X if needed, but...you ever think about what normal life is like? I don't want it, but it has....not appeal per se. But different challenges that are intriguing. But it's not a 'no,' either."
"You can teleport to Lima on a whim for Lomo Saltado, I do not think your life would ever be normal, Clarice." Marie-Ange said. "None of us get normal, so we try to be as normal as we can around it." Marie-Ange held up a container from the box, turned it around in her hands, and then set it down. "Going to get Doug to translate that one. Not a single english word."
"Yeah, I used google translate, it wasn't bad," it wasn't as good as Doug, but then it wasn't really a challenge for him. Google could use more practice, "No, we don't get normal. But at the same time...this isn't working. So, time for me to find a new normal."
"And while you search for that, we play skin care fairy godmothers. Do you think we would get in trouble if we also distributed wine. Some of the children are children still, yes?"
"We have a few under 21, but only one under 18, I believe," Clarice said, "I think we can distribute, just avoiding them. We'll get them boba or whatever the drink trend is today," it was hard to keep up with these things. She was so old now.
"Well, it is only the under 18 I am worried about. The rest are in college, or doing more drugs that I did at that age. Or both."
