16545/Sparkles are Dumba**

Sparkles are Dumba**
Date of Scene:	11 December 2023
Location:	Dazzler's Music Studio
Synopsis:	Negasonic and Dazzler talk after a brief text conversation. It immeadiately involves poor Negasonic being tasked to do som ething awful... socialize.
Cast of Characters:	Alison Blaire, Negasonic

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Alison Blaire has posed:
The sky darkens. Thunder rolls. Lightning flashes as the fate of the world teeters, the fulcrum point is an opulent mansion in upstate New York, now the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. But not really. Not at all in fact.

After an afternoon of texting back and forth between them, the details of which are lost to cosmic uncertainty or something, Alison Blaire stares down the intimidating figure in the doorway of her studio. One Negasonic Teenaged Warhead!

"So, like, really. Beer? Coke? ...The drink. I've got Zero, Cherry, uhh... there might be a can of Vanilla in the back..." She's bent over, practically shoved into her own mini fridge to her sternum after bending back over from sniping a little at the dark haired gal.

Because that's how things work between blondes and... you know, not blondes. Ali's got a bit of that Mean Girls in her, and so the social dance of high school cliques must be done, even if she's not in school and nominally you'd think two people who were texting each other could just vibe. But no, the dance must be... what's the past verb of dance? Dunce? Dunced? Danced?

Who knows? Who cares? Not Alison!

Negasonic has posed:
"I didn't even know we had a *studio* down here," says Negasonic. "I guess those donor dollars get you quite a bit."

This was said by the grim figure in the doorway of the studio, dressed as she was in all black. We're talking black trenchcoat, black gloves, black lipstick, black leather pants, boots, and dark attitude.

"You're offering beer to a teenager?" she says. "Shame. I better not tell the professor," she says, straightening up and stepping around to glance around the place. Negasonic had all the 'don't care' energy of the punk girls around school.

And all the danger to boot.

"Vanilla," she says. "So you're going to need to go to the back for it," she says.

"How long have you been *Dazzler*, after all?" she asks, stepping and letting her eyes drift along the studio. "I'd think you and Taylor Swift would have had a knife fight by now, at least. Or a collab." A pause. "Have you?"

Alison Blaire has posed:
Ali frowns thoughtfully, "I mean, it /might/ have been meant to be like... I dunno, something else for the students or whatever. But I stole it. It's mine now!"

She snorts and rolls her eyes, "Oh please, yeah, I'm offering a beer to a teenager. You do realize the whole 'Someone who's eighteen can vote and fight in a war but not drink' thing becomes even /more/ ridiculous when you add 'Or join a paramilitary mutant organization and fight in shadowy battles against evil' right? Like, c'mon, you fight a big purple robot, you deserve a little leeway in substance consumption."

But then Negasonic makes her order and Alison's huffing out, and actually kind of shoving herself into the fridge with some muttered cursing, and the faint clanking of cans being shifted and lifted and checked out.

"No, no, Highlanders fight with swords, not knives. We're going to meet in a parking lot at midnight when we've vanquished our other pop rivals. There can be only one."

She huffs and pushes herself back out of the fridge holding a can of Vanilla coke triumphantly and spinning around, chest heaving with some deep breaths... she's not that out of shape, is she? She's got to be playing it up. "Here you go, one discontinued unhealthy beverage."

She tilts her head thoughtfully and frowns, "I think we were supposed to do a duet at an awards show once. But I had to skip it to fight Omega Red."

Negasonic has posed:
"Is that why we can't have music class?" asks Negasonic. "Because the world needed another bubblegum pop single from mutant Barbie?" she asks of Alison. It's a lie, they did have music class up there. Not that Ellie attended it.

There might have been a reason Ellie wanted Alison to go to the back (not that, you pervs). But maybe Ellie was kinda a bad person at heart. But she was grinning a little wickedly at that. Just a little bit. Her face goes back to standard RBF soon enough.

"Was that an 80's reference?" Ellie says, the visible pain on her lips. "You realize that movie is like fifty years old now, right?" she says. "I just had to *google* what you were even talking about," she says.

But any further snark was halted when she was given the gift of caffeine and sugar, Ellie tucking her phone away to snap open that canned beverage.

"Sucks. Leave it to Omega Red to get in the way of true love like that," she says.

"Although... seriously. It is kinda cool to have you hanging out here in the mansion. A little more approachable than the normal, you know." Hopefully Alison knew. Ellie was making vague motions.

Alison Blaire has posed:
Eyes roll and Alison sighs out, "No, you can't have music class because back in the day someone turned a saxophone into a bong and they banned it."

Her. It was her. It was Alison Blaire. She turned a saxophone into a bong. Judge her for it.

She narrows her eyes and hisses out, "How /dare/ you talk about mutant Barbie singing a sugary pop song. You can't make Tabitha sing if she doesn't want to."

She snorts and shakes her head, one hand resting on her hip, "Oh, it would never work between me and Taylor. She wouldn't be able to write another hit song about our break up. Because nothing rhymes with 'That crazy bitch lasered my ferrari' or whatever."

One eyebrow quirks, Alison's face screws up like she's thinking pretty hard, "Like more approachable than most of the faculty? Or more approachable than most pop stars?" ...She doesn't sound sure that it matters, 'cause like... she's more approachable than either. "But yeah, I guess maybe I've been kinda like... slacking off on being approachable. Or at least making my presence known. I mean, we've probably got that annual ski whatever thing Jean and Rogue are in love with coming up. I should sign up to help with it I guess. Rock stars wreck hotels, pop stars can totally wreck ski resorts."

Negasonic has posed:
"Badass," Negasonic says, brushing her hands against the lapels of her coat.

Negasonic turns her eyes back towards Alison. She snorts a bit. "Boom-Boom? I can't say anything bad about her. She's my sister in..." Negasonic makes the 'explodey' sound with her mouth, her hand and fingers blossoming out.

"Naw, Taylor would find a way," she says. "You could both write breakup songs about it, it'd be like... self-sustaining teen pop angst," says the teenage woman.

"Well, I know a lot of pop stars, I know you know that. Just... approachable in general, I guess," she says. "I grew up on Genosha," she says. "Getting to be the Negasonic Teenage Miner, which is why I kinda know I leave small amounts of radiation, too," she says. "Or... suspect it, at least," she says, her eyes narrowing, her frown growing severe.

"You could do the thing where you don't wreck a ski resort. No one would expect that. Maybe even leave a good tip for the poor staff that have to clean up after your antics and shit," she says.

"A really good tip, not like 'send your resume to a hundred different places'," she says. "I'm talking money."

Alison Blaire has posed:
One eyebrow lifts as Alison hums a thoughtful noise, "Well sure, but like... it's not her plasma bombs that people notice when she's walking around in a tanktop, right?"

Alison sighs and shakes her head, "I mean, sure, but then I'd have to date and /break up/ with Taylor Swift, and like... that's gonna hurt. On a personal level. She's a catch, right? ...Or she's like, an eldritch horror that masquerades as a pop star with legs for days. But... like... the Justice League or whoever would've dealt with it by now if she was that, right? Right?"

Alison recoils and shudders, "God, who tips with /not money/? Tipping is only money! Like, if you wouldn't tip a stripper with it, you shouldn't tip a concierge with it. It's just common sense."

She flashes a wry little grin and sighs out, "But yeah, I could totally just... go on this ski thing and be a... /person/!" She feigns horror at the concept and mumbles softly, "Probably should, really. Help me find myself, be an even /more/ inspiring story for you youngsters."

Negasonic has posed:
"I'm not gonna say anything about Tabby's plasma bombs without her in the room to discuss it too," says Ellie, her tone of voice mild as she flicks her eyes back towards Alison at the Taylor Swift talk. "Just a personal level?" asks Negasonic. "And I dunno," she says. "I think she laid all of her cards on the table with that song about, uh... whatever," she says. "Nightmare dressed like a daydream."

"I get enough stress in my life without a girlfriend doing that to me too," she says.

"Unless..."

"... what if Taylor Swift *controls* the Justice League?" she asks, that grim thought. "Like she is the Eldritch Horror controlling their very spirits and minds and shit," she says.

"And you should," she says. "Youngsters like me need a role model, after all," she says. "And right now..." she gestures. "Not earning a lot of responsible adult role model points, Dazz," she says.

Alison Blaire has posed:
Alison seems to consider this potential conspiracy, seriously, brow furrows, teeth clench her lower lip for a long moment.

She blows out a slow breath and shakes her head, "Nah. If she controlled the Justice League, she'd be dating and breaking up with a different hero every month for a new song. Or like, she'd have done a concert on the moon by now."

she heaves out another sigh, almost pained really and slowly strides towards Ellie, lips pressing in a thin line, "Oh, I don't know, I think if you dated Taylor, you'd probably be scary enough she /wouldn't/ cause any drama if you broke up... but fine, fine, I'll chaperone or... whatever the hell it's called when you help out on the trip."

Eyes narrow slowly and her voice drops to a hiss, "But you're going too. And you're going to take part in whatever /group activities/ I wind up having to chaperone! And if you laugh when I fall on my ass skating..."

She frowns and huffs, "Fine, I probably can't punish you for that. But I'll think of something. I will."

Negasonic has posed:
"If I *must*," says Negasonic. "Freeze my tits off while you all ski in the ski lounge, and keep you all from wrecking the place..."

Then Alison clarifies group activies, and Negasonic narrows her eyes.

She curses once.

"And I'm not scary. I'm a teddy bear and all," she says.

"And I don't laugh," she says. "Unless it's hilarious, and painful looking," she says, her eyes narrowing. "Especially if you're forcing me to go. That's punishment enough, right?" she says.