6372/Fae Fury

Fae Fury
Date of Scene:	29 May 2021
Location:	Central Nexus
Synopsis:	Mystique soothes the savage beast.
Cast of Characters:	Raven Darkholme, Clarice Ferguson

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Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique has been watching the news, the replay over and over of Erik's broadcast and laughing, laughing and enjoying the reaction. She loved when he flexed his muscles like that, showing the world they were being watched. In her blue hand is a large glass of something that requires a straw. She wears nothing, just her blue skin, but nothing shows that shouldn't.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    A portal blinking into existance with a familiar purplish hue is not an unexpected sight on Asteroid M.
    It's the look of cold fury on Clarice's fae features that catches people off-guard. She wastes no time in striding towards the bar in the Asteroid's central nexus, as the bartender turns around to study her features.
    "Uhh... Shall I pour you something, Clarice?"
    She studies the bottles on the shelf for a moment - not feeling in the mood for any of the lighter cocktails she might otherwise prefer. Which still left her with the dilemma of what she //did// want. "...just, scotch. I guess." She'll try that, she decides, as she drops down onto one of the stools without another word.
    She should have punched the boy right in the mouth. Blinking part of him away would have been... excessive. Maybe. But punching him in the mouth? Surely that've been justified.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique turns her attention off the television as the woman blinks in, watching how a few present scatter as it happens. It was rare to come right into the central nexus, so clearly something was wrong.

Sauntering toward the bar, the ice in her glass clinking against the sides, she makes her way to where Clarice has sat herself down.

"Are you alright?" She asks, with genuine concern to her tone. "Did something happen?"

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice's gaze goes to Mystique as the bartender pulls down a bottle - pouring a generous amount of scotch into a glass, to set in front of the teleporter. That cold fury lingers, though it's not directed at Mystique, but somehow underpinning it all was hints of the pain, and trauma her past had put her through. "Nothing happened. Not exactly. Just an arguement - with that... idiot kid, who doesn't know what he's talking about. I shouldn't let it get to me." But she had let it. That much was clear, as she picked up the glass to take a sip.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Settling herself on the stool by Clarice, Mystique sets her glass on the bar, "Why now let it get to you? Do you learn from forgetting? What did the idiot kid say that upset you so much." She waves the bartender off now, and the man immediately nods and makes himself busy in another location.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice takes a second drink before setting the glass back on the bar - wrapping the fingers of both hands around the glass, and staring down into the amber-hued liquid. She's silent for a moment, before nodding her head towards the new broadcast. "We were talking about the job," she explained. "He thought we were being rash. Painting mutants in a bad light, yet again, by going on the offensive. I said you don't leave your kind enslaved. I said he clearly didn't know what it was like... to be enslaved. To lose your freedom like that. And this //boy//," this imbecile, "claimed he did - because he //almost// got sent to a group home. Or maybe juvie. Like that's even remotely-" Her voice cracks, and then turns into a bitter, pained laugh.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique visibly winces, and her amber eyes narrow as she breaths softly, "That little bastard."

Picking up her glass, she pulls the straw out and tosses it away and takes a very large drink of whatever it is. Only then does she looks back to Clarice, "Fuck him. He will learn as he gets older, he will see what it is really like, and he will make the choices he makes for himself, clearly thinking of no one else. It is all about what /he/ has suffered, what was done to /him/. He is not old enough to understand, to fathom, what others like you and I have suffered, Clarice. Be angry with him, but remember, he's a child in a world of giants."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "I should have punched him in the fucking face," Clarice manages to murmur, once the bitter laugh has died away. She follows this with a drink from the scotch. "Why didn't I punch him in the fucking face? He'd earned it." And then some.
    She shakes her head before she adds, "It's been years. It still hurts." She tries not to dwell on the memories, but they still made life painful at times.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
The glass it returned to the surface of the bar, and left there now. Mystique turns herself fully now to face Clarice, "You should have punched him, do you know why you didn't? Because you know he's a dumbassed kid without a clue, and he is one of us. What happened to you is not something that will ever go away, it will always linger so long as you let it, the pain will remain no maater what you do. What matters however, is how you /use/ that pain and anger. Thus far, you have used it wisely."

Crossing one leg over the other, she leans her back into the high back of the stool. "I wish I could take that pain from you. I have lived it, and far worse, I would take it and add it to my own so that you could have a normal life. I know I can't, it's wishful thinking, it's all wishful and wanting and hoping... but it's still there."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    //Use// the pain? Clarice focuses on those words, though her eyes remain fixed on the scotch in her hands. "I make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else," she answers quietly. That's the //intent//, anyways. "None of our people should go through that again. No one." Is it a promise she can keep? No. But hell if she isn't going to try.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique reaches out and lays her hand on Clarice's shoulder, "/We/ will work to ensure it never happens to any of our people, ever again. There aren't many who can understand your pain Clarice, and fewer who would give a damn as they focus on their own pathetic lives. You and I are different from them, we see what needs to be done and are willing to do it. That's what makes us stronger then them."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "We will," Clarice confirms - a brief smile making an appearance on his features. "You know - he also had the gall to suggest I didn't belong here. That I should just join up with the X-Men, and leave this behind."
    She gives a small shake of her head. "He has no idea who I am - or what I'm capable of." What she's been trained to do.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique snorts softly, and says with a level of bitterness that fills room with a thick tension and causes a few more people to exit. "They all think the ice cream and rainbows of the X-Men and Xavier's is the best, they are the heroes after all, right? Trying to help mutants learn, at least those they deem worthy of their aid, the rest out there, well I guess they aren't worthy of Charles' and Jean's attention. Oh no, those out there like you and I, we aren't /worthy/ of their aid because we already know who we are, and what we are capable of. They cannot manipulate and mold us into their 'ideal' puppet mutant."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Some how - it's that bitterness from Mystique that brings a more genuine smile back to Clarice's features. Maybe it's just the familiarity of this sort of tirade from the blue-skinned woman? "Oh, I don't know. I'm not sure it's a matter of being 'worthy.' I mean - I spend time there, with Lorna. I think they'll take anyone who genuinely wants to be there. I just-" She gives a small shake of her. "This is where I belong." Especially now - with the Brotherhood trying to pivot who they were.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Reaching to collect her glass again, Mystique takes a large drink and calms herself again. "I'm sure they will take anyone who knows they exist and how to get there, but what about those out there that have no idea there is such a place?" She shakes her head a little and waves her hand to dismiss that topic because really, she would like to burn the school to the ground. "You choose for you where you belong, and we will be grateful that you remain with us."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "It's just one school. They //can't// take everyone," Clarice points out. "We need more schools. More havens. We need Genosha back," she says firmly - and fervently. "I mean - that's part of why I stay. I serve Genosha - and I serve my King. We need to rebuild, and we will." She was more herself now - some of that fire returning to her vibrant green gaze as the pain and anger receeded.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique smiles with a nod, "You're right, we do need Genosha back." She doesn't go into anything else beyond that regarding the royal family or the king. "And we're taking steps to do just that, but it will take time. Would you like me to ask Erik about his plans regarding Genosha? See what he might be willing to share? You have a right to know after all."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Yes," there's no hesitancy in that answer. "And how I can help. Ferrying people, supplies... Whatever's needed. You know I'm willing," Clarice asserts fervently. "We need Genosha back. And besides, running a thriving, and peaceful nation... Keeping our people safe... That's the goal, right? And we need to show the world that. Too many still have doubts." About Magneto, about his Brotherhood. About their intentions.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Again the cobalt woman nods, standing now with her drink still in hand. "I will speak to Erik about it then, and find out what he is willing to share. I am just as eager to have Genosha back as you are, no... you are more eager. My desire cannot compare to yours, but I am pretty darn close."

She offers a smile, then finishes the drink off and set the glass on the bar. "For now however, forget about that annoying little twat, finish your drink, and take a second look at the announcement Erik made today on every channel of every television. It's well worth a second watch."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Damn straight. Not a lot of people out there who can say they want Genosha back more than me." Clarice's smile is back in place now - after all, that's all it takes. A plan - a path to tread - with a concrete goal at the end. One that mattered to her more than anything else - Genosha. "You know where to find me," she adds, before turning back to take another sip from her scotch.