10306/Drinks and Space Uber

Drinks and Space Uber
Date of Scene:	28 February 2022
Location:	Cafeteria and Bar
Synopsis:	What starts as a friendly drink between friends and Royalty - ends in one of Clarice's increasingly rare fits of temper.
Cast of Characters:	Lorna Dane, Clarice Ferguson, Pietro Maximoff, Raven Darkholme, Azazel

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Lorna Dane has posed:
It had been awhile that Lorna had really had any free time to catch up with her relatives. Usually, between herself and her siblings different ventures all of them were far too busy to do more than check in on occasion to say hello. It's a rare chance to really get to sit down to a meal or a drink. When the opportunity arises to visit with Pietro, she's rather quick to seize it. Even if they may not be as close as Pietro and Wanda were she was still interested in keeping familial ties.

Having invited him to the station where things would be relatively 'safe' and away from things exploding down on Earth, she waits at a table at the bar which she'd already laden down with some suitable snacks. He was a speedster after all. And the fried pierogies here were rather decent, along with the roast beef sliders. All nice finger foods that were better than just nachos and fries.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "...big appetite today?" Clarice remarks in an amused tone as she enters the bar, and spots Lorna's table ladden down with far more than her usual amount of food. A bottle is set on the bartop for her by Sascha, and she scoops it up, along with a glass, making her way over to her friend and sovereign. The magenta-hued mutant sets the glass down - and claims a slider, which she unceremoniously nibbles at, before she pours herself a glass of her cognac.
    "Expecting company? Am I interrupting?" Does she- sound like she //hopes// she's interrupting? There's certainly some mischief showing in her gaze.

Pietro Maximoff has posed:
It's always the worst, waiting on travel arrangements. Thankfully, there was a quick way to the station - thanks to portals, teleportation and such. Pietro would all but be tearing his hair out if he had to wait in a shuttle. Once onboard, it's a literal breeze to get where he's going to. Several members of the Brotherhood may report a flash blurring by them in the halls - though no one was ruffled, thankfully.

All but skidding to a stop near Lorna's table, Pietro cants his head. "I believe she was waiting on my arrival." He explains to Clarice, with a slight smile. "Sorry if I am late." The man takes the seat, expecting it was for him. If he's wrong, someone will say something - he'll even feign that he cares! "How are you this evening, Her Majesty?" Even Quicksilver can crack wise, every once and a while.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Few humans on the asteroid meant Mystique had an extra hour every once in a while, and today that extra hour was going to be spent drinking with Azazel. She was walking toward the bar as he bamfed in beside her, just in time for Pietro to go by at lightning speeds, but at least that meant the door opened for him and thus was still open.

"Looks like we'll have company today," she comments to Azazel with a grin, then strides through the door into the bar.

"Majesty, Highness, Clarice," she offers in that order with a nod, making her way toward the bar.

Azazel has posed:
    Walking in beside Mystique, Azazel gives the current occupants of the bar a casual wave, commenting to her "Well, that's not a problem. Makes it more like a party."

    He vanishes with a bamf, followed in quick succession by a series of teleports around the room. Two more chairs are suddenly at the table, a bottle of scotch and two glasses in front of them, Azazel's in one chair and Mystique is standing beside the other. With his tail, he pulls the chair out for Mystique to sit down.


"So, we talking about anything interesting?"

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna Dane flashes a smile toward Clarice even as she reclines comfortably in her chair, one leg draped over the knee of her opposite. Her own drink is something a it more luxurious for once: A cocktail. An old fashioned is held in hand swirling the liquid around the large chunks of ice in the glass leisurely. "I am expecting--" Ah, but there he is. Her head tips toward Pietro in greeting as he seats himself.

"Oh I'm just fine, Your Highness," she greets back loftily only to laugh at his poking. "Really Pietro, not you too. I get that enough from Clarice," she points out with a gesture of her glass toward her friend. "Feel free to join us. I hope I got enough for us all. I was getting a bit tired of fast food."

Then Mystique and Azazel arrive earning another lift of her glass in their direction. "Nothing yet, we just all arrived. I thought it was long past time to catch up a bit."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Your Highness," Clarice greets the man with a little surprise - her back straightening slightly. Sure, Lorna has insisted on the pair of them being //friends,// and being rather informal around one another when not on official Genoshan business - but she didn't feel quite the same around the Genoshan prince, clearly.
    As she's invited to join the pair, though, she hesitates only a moment before slipping into one of the seats, looking up at the sound of the 'bamfs' and offering a nod and a smile to Azazel and Mystique. "Boss. Azazel - it's been a little while," she remarks - her smile widening for a moment, in greeting.

Pietro Maximoff has posed:
If there's anything unusual about Pietro - it's that his 'edginess' has dropped a bit. There's clearly an aire about him, but it's lessened. He's clearly been working on himself in his recent absences, trying to better - or at least change himself.

There's a drink in hand, already, as well.

"It seemed to be in fashion, Lorna. The whole title bit." Pietro explains, looking relaxed at the moment. A nod to Clarice, and a wan smile. "Please. No need to stand on formality - we're not at a Genoshan court." A time and place for everything, it would seem. As Mystique and Azazel arrive, he nods in greeting. "Indeed, time to catch up and reacquaint with everything going on."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
The series of bamfs are something Mystique apparently is used to or just expected, because she doesn't even blink as each one happens. With a chair presented however, she settles into it with a smile and pours the Scotch into both glasses. Azazel was kind enough to get it, she'll pour, then offers him one of the two glasses.

"Just because you're not in court, doesn't mean you shouldn't receive your due," she comments with a sly grin, taking a small sip of her scotch. "But... you did, so now you're back to being Lorna and Pietro as far as I'm concerned."

Even while sitting there she has her little ear piece in place to listen to reports and the state of the asteroid. There were still people here, waiting for their chance to go 'home', once they had homes again, but thankfully no where near as many as there had been.

"How is the un-evacuation treating you all?" She then asks, reaching over with her free hand to grab the end of Azazel's tail and just hold it, like you would hold someone's hand.

Azazel has posed:
    Taking the offered glass, he takes a sip then looks around the table. "Ah, so much royalty, I'm afraid to breathe wrong." The smirk on his lips suggests otherwise however. "In the past two or three thousand years, I've come to realize that the titles don't really mean all that much. It's how you use the power and responsibility that's important. Well, and the fun you can have making the suckers who are impressed by the title do ridiculous things to stay on your good side."

    He glances over at Mystique "This would be the part where you sigh and roll your eyes a bit. But it is fun. And when you're trapped in another dimension for thousands of years, you get bored. Trust me on that one."

Lorna Dane has posed:
"I can imagine that would be dreadfully boring," Lorna has to agree before she reaches out to stab a perogie with a fork to deposit onto a smaller plate meant for just that purpose: Gathering of the noms. "The only time I seem to really use it lately is dealing with politics, or with our resident Knight." There's a small pause before she admits, "It was rather nice visiting Atlantis that way though. Entirely different. Though that's been awhile and not important at all any longer." It's here she bites into the edge of the tidbit careful to not make a mess in spite of wanting to just shove the whole thing in her mouth. Potato and onion and cheese oh my.

"I had been meaning to catch up with you, Pietro, to tell you that Clarice has asked me to be her younger brother's God Mother." With that she looks over to Clarice again, "Theo is doing well still I assume?"

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "...did I just get called a sucker?" Clarice asks, studying Azazel with a frown that's tinged with amusement. It doesn't linger, though, as her attention returns to Lorna.
    "Theo's great - being working hard at school. Helped out with that mess with the angels in a few, small ways... And has been spending a lot of time, still, with the last four victims of the Mutate Program that we discovered - though they're doing much better now, as well."
    Looking towards Pietro she adds, "It was only so that Theo could have a little stability - but with Pete 18 now, and Theo turning 18 himself in ten more months... It shouldn't really be anything either of you will realistically have to worry about."

Pietro Maximoff has posed:
There's an arch of his brow, nodding at Azazel's commentary. "Indeed. Just having a title does tend to dull the senses of some people to your intentions - while sharpening others. Politics boil down to simply another arena, with more sweeping stakes." A slight shrug from Pietro as he sips his drink.

To Mystique, he shugs. "The various affiliations I work with seem to think the Manhattan thing is done and over with - so I suppose the return of the people to their homes is a good thing. No reason to suspect more trouble of that scale from that external group." A grin. "Then again, I could be wrong. We always seem to run afoul of all these absurd invasions."

Pietro looks from Clarice to Lorna, then back. "I am sure Lorna would only accept were she certain of herself in that... I have no concerns." A wry grin. "Unless he attempts to some how supplant me in the royal scheme of things." Joke? Likely.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique stares at Azazel for a moment, then offers him his sigh and eye roll even though honestly she agreed with him about most of it. She knew how Azazel was, he got bored easily when things didn't directly involve him or his goals, which usually meant she found ways to entertain him.

Swirling the scotch a little she looks over at Clarice as she calls Azazel out, a grin playing on her lips. "Not specifically you, Clarice," she offers. "You have some common sense to you." She wouldn't explain further, it would be more fun to let Azazel do that, and let's face it when he's around, her mean streak showed more.

"Theo and Pete have both been a /major/ help with things around here," she then says with a smile. "Keeping order, dealing with the humans, and not letting anyone gets 'accidently' spaced."

She finally takes a sip of the scotch as her eyes settle on Pieter. "Every day, mutants around the world are under assault, in some places on the very level that was Manhattan," she states calmly, but her yellow eyes are intense. "Then we added these, as you say, absurd invasions, and people forget the horrors that mutants are living through daily. Politics is only one form of battle against it," she snorts then takes another sip of the scotch, ending there to be nice.

Azazel has posed:
    Azazel shakes his head, addressing Clarice with "Nah, you wouldn't do whatever they tell you to do without question. I mean the cringing little toadys who infest anywhere there's power to be near."

    He takes another sip of his drink then changes over to the subject of the moment. "Yeah, it does seem the whole angel thing seems to be over, I don't have an itching sensation at the back of my head. And good riddance to each and every one of them, self-rightous pricks." He knocks back the rest of his drink and pours another.

    Glancing over to Mystique he adds "You know I keep offering to take care of these problems for you. Once you drop a few humans from a hundred feet or so onto pavement, the others usually seem to get much more peaceful." And smiles a little, showing his pointed incisors "And besides, everyone thinks the worst of me when they see me anyway. Must be the whole Satan thing, I guess."

Lorna Dane has posed:
"That's not quite how family connections work, Clarice. I told you: His age isn't going to matter. I took on the responsibility so if he needs anything, anything at all, I'm now as much family as you are to reach out to." Lorna eyes the plates of food she had ordered which as yet seem untouched. The drinking was the favored thing at the moment. Was she the only one that didn't want to get TOO drunk? Then again she did tend to get a bit loose tongued when she was. It was something to be worked on.

"I'm glad to hear he and Pete are doing well, as well as being a help around here. And I would prefer we not be dropping people unnecessarily from random heights," she adds with a glance at Azazel only to roll her own eyes a bit. "I suppose some might think that of you but I've known enough people with similar looks to know better." Okay. ONE person with similar looks. An entirely different color scheme though.

"Not to fill in the stereotype, but eat. There's so much here," she points out only to squint at one of the plates trying to see if some of the snacks have vanished while she wasn't paying attention.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Yeah, well - but it's more of a responsibility, if he's not of age... is all I meant." Though from her smile, and her expression, she was gratified by Lorna's words.
    She steals one of the pierogies for herself, but before taking a bite, looks towards Azazel, adding a nod of understanding. "Fair enough. If I think Lorna's setting herself up to make a mistake - just tell her. What good are friends, confidents, and yes - even employees who won't do that for you?" Of course, Mystique's run afoul of Clarice doing that exact same thing countless times. At least she's finally learned the lesson not to do so //in front of others//. For the most part.

Pietro Maximoff has posed:
There's a sip from his drink, Pietro watching Mystique as she makes her statement about the plight of mutants. He waits - it's all but an eternity to him, but he waits. Once she's said her peace, he quirks a brow. "Do you think, for one moment, that I am some how ignorant of the way mutantkind is treated? Do you assume, that since I have been a member of any number of organizations, that I have somehow forgotten how I and my family has been treated?" There's a slight frown, as the harshness he normally wore was donned as easily as a comfortable coat.

"My methods may not be the same as yours, Mystique, but don't ever believe I have stopped fighting for the rights of mutants." Grumpy Pietro is back. The rest of his glass is emptied quickly.

Lorna Dane has posed:
Just as she encourages others to share in the snacks, Lorna's phone goes off causing her to let out a rather heavy sigh. "Judging by the ringtone, I need to take that," she utters deadpan. A longing look is given the food though she merely knocks back the rest of her drink setting it down. "Please feel free to stay as long as you'd like, Pietro. The teleporters will get you home when you want. Quickly," she adds knowing his penchant for SPEED NAO.

"Clarice. Mystique. Azazel. Good evening." With that she stands to walk off already fishing out the phone to take the call.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
The smile that spreads across Mystique's blue features is pure mischief and joy. "So easy," she comments, licking her lips lightly before pulling Azazel's tail up to kiss the end off and finally let go. "Sometimes Pietro, a comment is just a comment. A statement is just that, a statement. I couldn't resist poking you and seeing what fell out."

Reaching with her now free hand, she picks up a piorgi and nibbles the end of it. "Azazel my dear, I would very much /love/ to watch you and Clarice have 'drop the human from the sky' distance competitions, but the face I wear in public is far different than it used to be. We cannot win this war using our the old ways, so I must embrace the new ways and enjoy watching the old ways."

The grin remains as she looks to Clarice and asks, "Clarice, could you grab a cup of ice? I'd love to float one in the this scotch."

Azazel has posed:
    With a shrug, Azazel says to Mystique "That's why I said have me do it. You don't have to be there for it, that way you can keep up your shiny new niceness and the problem is still dealt with. That's why I said they'd think the worst of me. Hell, I may do it just for shits and giggles next time I see that one of those rallies is going on."

    He takes another sip, then throws a casual salute as Lorna heads out "Have fun, try and get in a little trouble. It keeps you young."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "...do we have to antagonize our allies, Boss?" Clarice asks in a dry tone, letting out a sigh and rolling her eyes.
    Her gaze goes over to Sascha - who's apparently heard Mystiqtue's request. As soon as Clarice sees the cup of ice set on the bar - she opens a small portal, reaching through to take the cup, and then passing it over to Mystique.
    Her gaze follows Lorna for a moment, then she looks back to Azazel as she adds, "You know, periodically a few of us go and find some of the more... dangerous folks out there in the world, and make them stop what they're doing. Whether it's against mutants, or women, or LGBT folks, or what have you. You're welcome to join us."

Pietro Maximoff has posed:
Pietro Maximoff says, "Were I not a proper gentleman, Mystique, you'd get your icecube down the front of your outfit." Pietro grumbles. As Lorna departs, he offers a polite nod. "See you about." He assures, stretching a bit before getting to his feet.

"She cannot help herself, Clarice. It is her nature. She is a scorpion." He offers, nodding to the table. "Plausible deniability dictates that I depart, before more talk of this purported action comes out. I do not want to have to try to cloak my thoughts around the others I work with." A wry grin. "Lovely to meet with you all again, I expect I will be around more - should the invitation remain open.""

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Taking an ice cube from the glass, Mystique runs it across the upper part of her chest while watching Pietro, then drops it down the front of her shirt. "Just for you," she offers and a playful grin appears. "You're welcome to dive in and get it however."

She then looks to Clarice. "I wasn't really antagonizing him, that would have involved more devious things such as questioning the nature of his allies, but the truth is," she looks back to Pietro. "The Avengers are amazing people doing amazing things, and I appreciate the things they do. I'm no scorpion however, I was a long time ago, but I'm not anymore. I could return to being one if you'd like Pietro, become the vicious, near mindless killer I once was... or perhaps, you could choose not to insult the strides I have made and the changes I have gone through."

Tipping the scotch back, no ice added, she finishes it off then adds in a tone that is perhaps very slightly edged with snark, "Take care of yourself... Highness."

Azazel has posed:
    A somewhat, might we say sadistic? grin spreads across Azazel's face as the invitation is made. "Oh, that sounds just lovely. I hope you don't mind if I end up stealing a few for my own reasons. They'll still die, it just may take a little while. Faceless drone only, so everyone sees the leaders were given what they deserve."

    In an aside to Mystique he says quietly "You would not believe how much it costs to keep hellhounds fed and happy."

    "It seems our little party is breaking up for now." He pulls a card out of his jacket pocket and hands it to Clarice. It's black with red lettering and says "Poor? Ugly? Feel that people hate you? Call Satan and he can fix things for you. Prices negotiable, call today!" and has a phone number on it. "You can reach me at that number just about anytime, unless I've popped to somewhere without service."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    A smirk crosses Clarice's features, as she shrugs her shoulders. "I don't care how they pay - as long as they pay." Her attention shifts towards Pietro as she adds, "No worries. Many of the missions //I've// lead has resulted in saving the lives of slaves and captives. Nothing your allies would object to." Other than the part where the perpetrators are slaughtered - and sometimes tortured, instead of brought to justice. She takes a sip of her cognac, her expression a relaxed, calm mask.
    "Your Highness," she adds towards Pietro - who she did not once call by his given name. She gives him a nod, then takes the offered card, studying it thoughtfully. "I don't think I suffer from any of the afflictions you mention here, thankfully," she remarks, before tucking it away.

Pietro Maximoff has posed:
The demeanor of the Maximoff gentleman goes cold - it's his natural state, some would say. "Another time." He offers to Mystique, his voice monotone. There's a tip of his head to Azazel, then Clarice. Then he's gone. No teleport, just a blur of motion as he exits the room.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
The moment Pieter has disappeared, Mystique starts laughing. She laughs as she puts two ice cubs in the glass and adds a touch more scotch. "He's far too easy to rile up," she finally says after a sip, then collects Azazel's tail in her hand again. "I'll be nice next time Clarice, I promise, but you should be more careful about when and where you talk about the special missions. Despite the good of saving slaves and abused persons, if the Avengers did want to poke their nose in, they'd find the massacre a problem."

Azazel has posed:
    "Yeah, the 'heroes' always seem to take exception to that kind of thing. That's probably why they keep fighting the same villains year after year. My method is so much easier. You don't need to feed, clothe, clean or worry about escapes of people who have been rendered dead at the scene. And if you catch them red-handed, what need is there for a trial? Sometimes the old ways just work."

    With a grin to Mystique he slips his tail out of her hand and sends it diving down the front of her shirt and rummaging around for a moment before coming up with the ice cube. "I think you dropped this, my dear."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "It's //Pietro,// though," Clarice points out. She's known him... almost as long as she's known herself, it feels. "Of course the other Avengers I wouldn't say such things around." She continues nibbling at the food that's been left behind as she adds, "If you're concerned, though..." She acquieces with a shrug of her shoulders.
    "It's been a while since I went on a hunt. I should find us another target."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique wiggles, even squeaks once and laughs as she announces to Azazel, "That's cheating!" But the ice cube is retrieved all the same. Grabbing a napkin she dries off the spot on her chest, then the end of Azazel's tail as she takes the ice and drops it into her glass with the other two.

"Pietro spends more time with the Avengers than with his own kind Clarice," she then says, taking hold of the tail again... her tail, easier to leave his hands free. "Yes, he is loyal to his people, even I know that, but actions speaking louder than words and his actions... he's an Avenger."

Another sip is taken of her scotch, before she sighs softly. "I would truly love to murder someone deserving, just... one shot, between the eyes. I know I'll get too soon enough, but not yet..." she eyes Azazel then looks back to Clarice. "We are getting closer to finding the Reverend."

Azazel has posed:
    "The nice thing is that I can get us in and out of anywhere you'd like to kill things. The teleporting isn't just for getting drinks and human rain." He takes another sip of said drink, then wraps his tail loosely around Mystique's hand.

    "Hunting sounds fun, this is a darker side of you than I've seen Clarice." He smiles, "I like it. But then, I'm evil incarnate if you believe the rumors, so what can you expect, really? Made my bed myself, honestly, doing the whole Satan impersonation. It's just such fun though."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "With Sabretooth as my 'father,' since I rediscovered myself - I really don't see why anyone should be surprised by this side of me," Clarice remarks in an amused tone.
    She's just taking a sip of her cognac when Mystique speaks, and her eyes shift to her abruptly, her form freezing for a moment, and a grim, determined look taking over her features. "Are we?" she asks softly. "He's //mine// when we find him. Mister Creed'll help me make sure we... adequately express what we think of his choices."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique smirks, eyes flashing slightly. "No Clarice, this time I'm afraid I pull rank. The Reverend is mine." Setting the glass down in the table, she crosses one leg over the other and rests her hands, complete with tail in hand, in her lap. "When we started working with Scott and the X-Men, I informed Scott that he was mine, and he is mine. I decide his fate and how he dies, and I fully intend to make him live everything he did to those children before he dies."

She looks between the two before she continues. "You Clarice, have another target that is yours and Theo's, that H & D are /very/ close to having the location of, and I promise you that she is a priority target as well."

Azazel has posed:
    Azazel doesn't seem to mind having his tail co-opted by Mystique, but he does nod his head when she claims the Reverend and say "Now there's my Mystique poking out from under the shiny new cover a bit. Good to know you haven't completely lost the beast, as it were."

    To Clarice he simply says "Well, the Sabertooth thing is news to me, but it does explain it pretty well." He looks over to Mystique with a grin and says "Remind me to pop into your computer room here and rummage through your files so I know all the secrets. Secrets are always fun to play with."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    For a moment, as Mystique lays claim to the Reverend, a frustrated, and almost angry look settles onto the woman's features - though as she continues, and promises other prey, some of the tension eases out of her. "Following up leads from the semi-truck?" Clarice asks for clarification. That seems like a fair trade only-
    "Shouldn't the honor of that kill go to the people who were imprisonned there? If they want it."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Collecting her glass again, Mystique offers Azazel a broad, mischievous grin. "My love, I am still a very dark and devious mutant with a desire to control the world for the betterment of mutants all around the world. I still desire to kill humans, the only change is that I now only kill those who show no usefulness or purpose for our cause." She strokes the end of his tail for a moment, then takes a sip of her scotch.

"I've always been a good actress, it's part of my training, I present to the world exactly what they need to see, and it /is/ a part of me, so there are no lies, no decent, no misinformation. I merely keep my darker, more savored self quiet unless I'm with those I love."

Now her eyes shift to Clarice. "Doctor Hathaway is aiding them in their recovery, and no part of that includes murder Clarice. You are selected for this for their sake, and your own. This woman's death will finally put an end to the mutate program of Genosha once and for all. That's yours and yours alone, though I know Theo wants to be there as well."

Azazel has posed:
    "Despite the lovely company I'm currently enjoying, I actually have some work to do." With a smile he adds, "Satan's work is just never done. You would not believe the things people are willing to trade in order to get the petty things they want or think they deserve." His tail untangles from Mystique's hand and moves up to lift her chin gently as he stands and then bends down to give her a kiss.

    Looking over to Clarice he does the 'call me' gesture, then *BAMF* and he's off again.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice barely seems to register Azazel's departure, as something in Mystique's words clearly has her agitated, on edge, and distracted. Her hand is tightened around her drink without sipping from it as she tries to sort out her thoughts into something approaching coherency - rather than lashing out with the irrational aggrevation she can feel threatening to bubble out of every pore.
    "I was denied the chance for my revenge. Why would we do the same to them? Why not- we have the stasis pods. Why not pop her into one of those pods, and hold her there until they are well enough to decide for themselves?" she asks coolly.
    "And- and as much as Theo has said- I don't want to involve him murder, or execution, let alone- ...//torture.// I don't like this. I don't like any part of this. It doesn't- it doesn't feel //right,//" she insists, her posture tense and her gaze fixed without seeing on one of the bulkhead walls.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
The departure kiss is returned, and with her hand free Mystique caresses Azazel's cheek before he steps back and bamfs. Sometimes, you just have to accept that the man you love likes to make dramatic exits and entrances.

"It was considered," she states, taking another sip of her drink. "They've been spoken to, many times, about what they feel regarding those who did this to them. When I say that it's all on you, it is because they decided to let Theo be the one to handle it. Not because he was the one who they were connected to, but because they trust and know him, and know he will see it done."

The glass is set down again, and her yellow eyes settle fully on Clarice's eyes. "You can wish and want, you can try to keep him uninvolved, you can continue to fight that fight against him, but when he hits eighteen Clarice, all of it will have been a waste of time. He's already asked to join the Brotherhood when he turns eighteen, and I have no reason to deny him. Pick your battles between now and then, and make sure they're really worth it."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice stands so abruptly, the chair she was sitting in clatters over, crashing to the floor behind her and drawing the eyes of everyone in the air. Most of them have the sense to look away again just as quickly.
    "I don't want to keep him out of the Brotherhood! I never have! Why do people keep //saying// that?!" she asks in frustration, giving the offending chair a kick, as if it's at fault for falling over.
    "I just- I don't... I don't want him involved in- I don't want him to see me- This is not what I //want//!" she shouts in frustration.
    Clearly feeling too aggitated to stay still, she starts towards the door, intent on making her way to the training room. "I need to go," she announces tersely.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique stands up just as quickly, the glass still sitting on the table, and moves to follow Clarice.

"Stop running," she states firmly. "Nothing will be accomplished by you running from it every time it comes up!"

Even if Clarice doesn't stop and continues to move, Mystique follows and keeps talking. "You don't want Theo to know the real you, to see what you are capable of, what it is you really do. You don't want him to go on missions where he will have to defend himself or protect others, where he might have to kill someone. Yes, he's welcome to join the Brotherhood and be a part of it, we've all known that, but you don't get to choose what he does /for/ the Brotherhood, until you TALK IT OUT WITH ME!"

The last part isn't yelled, it's stated loudly and enunciated, because Mystique has actually had it with this debate. It has been a constant problem that comes up over and over again, and not once has Clarice actually voiced what she's really concerned about. She's hinted at it, she's implied a few things, she's presented possible ideas as to why, but never once stated it bluntly.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice stops in place - but her form practically vibrates with tension, and the option of simply blinking out - and avoiding this interaction entirely - well. It's always at the back of her mind.
    "This- this isn't about //that,//" she hisses out in frustration. "It's two separate fucking things!" She does shout - clearly not in control of herself for the moment - not fully anyways. "When he's 18, when he's done with school - he can do what he wants. He can do whatever the fuck he wants. He wants to fight? He can fight. That's //fine//. But this- isn't the same as //that//." Her breathing is heavy and ragged with pent up tension as she tries to make herself heard, and understood, rather than just blowing off her boss.
    "I finally- I have the chance to get the revenge I want. I //need//. That I was //denied// for what was done to me. And- and you claim one of them, and the other- I can't- I can't do the things I want to do with Theo watching, with Theo there. I don't want him to- I can't- I have the chance to get my revenge, and you're //denying// it to me. Don't you get that?" Tears start to streak down her cheeks, and she tries once more to walk past Mystique, not seeming to care if she has to push past her to do so.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique holds her ground, even lays her hand on Clarice's shoulder. "You /finally/ spit out the truth," she says more calmly. "I'm not taking it from you, he is. You're the one who has to deal with him if you choose to deny him his revenge for what these people did to him, to his family and to you. I get it Clarice," she shrugs her shoulders slightly. "You don't want him to see the monster that you think you are, you want the image of you in his head to be what he already knows, what he's already seen. The things you want to do, you don't want him to know your capable of, I totally get that."

Now she steps to the side so that Clarice can continue walking, and keeps walking right along with her. H & D are already clearing the hall between the bar and the training room. "I'm not taking anything away from you, I'm insulted you place that blame on me. I'm giving you advice on how to deal with your brother or risk losing him entirely, you don't have to listen, you can go right back to the room and tell him no, and until he's eighteen, I will back that no... but then you have to face what that no will do to him."

She sighs softly, "As for the Reverend, he's /always/ been mine. I said it in the beginning and I'll say it again. I claimed him, that makes him mine... and again, you think I don't know what it means to you. You assume that when I get done making him suffer everything he did to those kids that I won't let you get in there and either kill him, or make him suffer some more. Revenge blinds you Clarice, to what is right in front of you, and thanks to that, you assume and hurt me and probably don't give a damn, because it's about YOUR pain and YOUR revenge."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice tries to shove her way past Mystique - only to find the woman in her way again - and for a moment, her posture shifts just enough to telegraph the preparations for a punch.
    If it were (almost) anyone other than Mystique, she would have left fly - instead she stands for a moment, glaring the woman down, and not seeming to register the words directed at her - her breathing picking up even more, and then after a long moment of tension, where those in the bar with the nerve to watch wonder if she's going to let fly with that punch or not, there's instead a flash of purple energy, and the brightly hued mutant has disappeared from the station.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique braced, she was prepared for Clarice to punch her if that's what the woman wanted or needed to do. There were moments, like this one, that the line had be stepped over and Clarice needed to be shoved. She was making improvements in her maturing, but there were still so many /huge/ gaps that caused the magenta mutant to go right back into being a kid, dealing with things like a teenager would. So if Clarice had wanted to punch Mystique, she would have taken it, right there in front of everyone. It would have been a hard lessons for Clarice to learn, but instead she took the other route, the one she usually took... she ran to avoid the conflict and anger.

"It's over," she announces to those in the room in a sharp tone, giving the 'eye' to anyone still looking her way, then she also left the bar... merely on foot instead.