6503/He's just FABULOUS, right

From Heroes Assemble MUSH
Jump to navigation Jump to search
He's just FABULOUS, right
Date of Scene: 09 June 2021
Location: Medical Lab
Synopsis: Clarice visits, Christian is Fabulous (but not really). She's bringing milkshakes next time.
Cast of Characters: Christian Frost, Clarice Ferguson




Christian Frost has posed:
    Well, it's been a few days or what? A week? Since Clarice rescued Christian from himself in an old abandoned house in Bushwick. The continued manifestation of his nightmares into reality led to him being moved from a public hospital into the care of Henry McCoy, someone more suited to deal with his particular issues.
    Currently Christian is asleep, he's been doing that a lot lately. Truth be told, he looks pretty awful. He could stand a good hair washing, he's pale and a little gaunt. Not unexpected given the extent of his injures.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice was gratified that they were letting her in at all, as she steps into the room where he was recovering. After all, they tended not to let many into their underground facility. Seeing the man was sleeping, though, she hesitates near the door - loathe to disturb what was doubtlessly much needed rest as his body recovered from the ordeal.
    Should she go? Or...? After a few moment's lingering near the door, she moves quietly towards a chair, setting herself down onto it. Maybe she could simply take the opportunity to work on some of her studying? Moments later, she has her tablet in her hands, and gaze fixed down on it as she works on another reading-comprehension passage - her lips moving quietly as she tries to read the words to herself.

Christian Frost has posed:
    Maybe he senses someone's in the room, or maybe he's just been asleep long enough? Christian starts to stir and it's the damnedest thing really, the moment he begins to regain consciousness, the dirty hair and pale gaunt... fade away to leave behind the Christian he shows to the world. Keeping up the appearance that everything is fine in his life that it's become a *reflex* action to cover his real condition with his gifts so he always looks fabulous. That's a little sad.
    It takes a moment or two longer before his eyes open and he spots Clarice. He pushes himself up, a bit, maybe a little too quickly because it causes him to let out a hiss of a pained breath. But he recovers quickly, always fabulous, and grins brightly in her direction. "Hey... do I know you?" It makes sense that he wouldn't remember much from that awful night.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Hey - hey. Take is easy," Clarice cautions the man - looking up at the sound of movement on the bed, and that hiss of pain. Surprise and confusion crosses her features at the change in appearance but - it makes sense, doesn't it, that his powers would be like Emma's, and affect the mind? And she'd already seen some of what he'd done. "Mister Frost - Christian, right? We haven't met properly, but I'm Clarice," she introduces herself with a broad, reassuring smile. "I just wanted to check in on you." A flick of her thumb darkens the screen of her tablet - hiding the assignment she'd been working on.

Christian Frost has posed:
    "Clarice, that's a lovely name," Christian offers. "But yes, yes, definitely just Christian." Lord, please don't call him Mr. Frost! "... I'm not THAT old, now am I?" He brushes off her initial concern with a pishposh sort of motion with one hand. "Oh, I'm fine, promise..." F.I.N.E. ... fine, always fine. "Where you reading something just now?" he asks, conversationally. Before... "How do I know you? I mean, I'm obviously thrilled to have the company of such a lovely young woman, but..." Why the fuck does such a lovely young woman want to visit a 30ish gay drug addict?

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Christian, then," Clarice agrees - still with a gentle, warm smile on her face. The sort of smile you might use when trying to reassure a frightened child, or injured animal.
    "Honestly, I didn't think you would recall me. You weren't yourself when we, uhhh, met. I brought you to your sister," she explains. "I found you in Bushwick."

Christian Frost has posed:
    Unfortunately both of those are appropriate metaphors for Christian Frost's broken psyche. Of course, Clarice has already had a first row seat to that. "Oh..." his voice falters and drops. "I.. I'm sorry. I didn't hurt you, did I?" It's painfully clear that a 'yes' answer to that would just crush is already broken spirit.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "No, Christian, you did not," Clarice reassures him. "I'm just glad I was there and was able to help - and I wish I'd found you sooner. And I was glad to hear you'd been brought here - you couldn't be in better hands." Well - maybe with the Brotherhood? But honestly, it was probably about equal.

Christian Frost has posed:
    That smile, that brilliant FABULOUS smile, that looks so real but isn't, returns. "Good, at least there's that." The fact that he didn't hurt her. Christian looks around the medical lab and comments, "The care's top notch, I suppose but this place could really use a little bit of brightening up. Maybe some pale blue on the walls, blue is calming isn't it. Or a pale yellow?" Idle, inane chatter to keep the topic... well, idle and inane and away from anything else serious, lest he lose control of the facade.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "It is a bit... cold, and sterile in here, isn't it?" Clarice agrees. "I suppose I could you something to brighten things up a bit. Maybe something other than plain, white sheets? I'd offer to start putting up art but, well... I'm no judge of art, and I'm not sure how Hank would feel about me just redecorating the place." She lets out a quiet laugh - seemingly content to let him steer the conversation away from anything painful. She's not his therapist - and this wouldn't be the time to push, anyways.

Christian Frost has posed:
    "Oh, darling, anything but flowers." Christian says with a little glint in his pretty blue eyes. "Maybe a nice abstract on that wall over there?" He points to the suggested wall. "I'll smooth it over with Henry." Just a beat and he asks, "Have you seen my sister?" Because he hasn't in a few days. "... Oh and if you could, maybe some higher thread count than negative 1800 sheets? Of course I'll give you the money for all of it. If you could just... find me my pants? I think my wallet should be in my pants."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "I haven't, unfortunately," Clarice replies - because someone continues to order she keep her distance from the woman. She smiles with amusement as she adds, "I could always just forward the bills to her, though." Because really - the thought of unexpectedly sending Emma Frost a series of invoices for paintings and the like does amuse her. "But you really might be underestimating how little I know about art. I can stick to abstracts though - I guess."

Christian Frost has posed:
    "I wouldn't want you to have to pay for them up front," Christian mentions with a frown. Hell, even the frown is fabulous. It turns into a soft smile when he circles back to the more serious stuff, apparently he can only do that in small doses. "Thank you, for taking me to Emma, for saving me." He's sincere enough even if there's something... just a hint... of regret there. Whiplash and back to the trivial again. "Oh, I'm sure you'll do fine. I'm sure you have wonderful taste."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice waves a hand dismissively. "I'll say it was a business expense, and charge it to my employers. An act of goodwill, building relations between various factions..." she claims, before flashing Christian a brighter, broader smile. "Of course. It was the right thing to do. We look out for our own, right?"
    As for her taste - she's less convinced.

Christian Frost has posed:
    "Nonono. I'm sure my wallet is around here somewhere." Christian insists. But... he actually deflates just a little. Sure, he can cover his appearance, but he can't make himself physically feel no pain when pain is kind of all there is at the moment, physical pain for his injuries and his withdrawal from Kick, mental pain, emotional pain. "Maybe if you could just bring me a milkshake, chocolate chip cookie dough? On your next visit?" Because surely she'll come back again, please? It's been kinda lonely down here.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "I'm not certain that it is," Clarice answers with some amusement. "After all - we took you to a hospital, at first. Your sister probably has your wallet." Why would she send him with his //wallet// to the X-Men's base?
    "How about the sheets - and the milkshake - alright?" she offers. "Assuming Dr. McCoy doesn't have any objections to the shake."

Christian Frost has posed:
    Will Henry have objections? Possibly. Will Christian mention them? Probably not. "The sheets and a shake, yes, please." He grows quiet, just studying Clarice for a moment or two, maybe three. Then... "I really am sorry, I know what..." He knows his own nightmares. "...it couldn't have been easy for you to see that."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    For just a moment, Clarice looks puzzled - like she's not really sure what she means. After all, with all she's seen and done - the image of Christian's worst nightmare has not been what's keeping //her// up at night. After a moment, though, she returns to that reassuring smile. "It's alright, really," she promises him. "It was a bit confusing. I recall being a bit //affronted// when my power didn't work on him, like it should. But... I worked around it in the end. Honestly, I've been concerned for you more than anything else, but I'm glad to see you're starting to improve."

Christian Frost has posed:
    "I'm still sorry, it was never my intention to involve someone else in my... shit," Christian murmurs. That facade is beginning to fade, he's likely getting sleepy again and just not wanting to be rude about it. "...but I am really glad you happened to be there, if for Emma anyway. For some reason, she's attached." Christian being beaten to death by his own demons would definitely not have been healthy for the White Queen or anyone around her the moment she found out.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "For her," Clarice agrees. "But for you, as well." She stands up - moving towards Christian, and putting a hand on his arm. "Doctor McCoy will help you," she promises. "And I'll bring you that shake, and those sheets. Cookie dough, you said. But you should get some more rest so you can heal."

Christian Frost has posed:
    Christian offers her a sleepy little half smile. "You can stay, I'm fine..." But even as he's speaking the words, he's already drifting off to sleep. Once he's out, the facade falls completely and he's that broken, battered, pale, gaunt, bruised manchild again.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
     Poor fellow. She hopes he //does// get the help he needs. Clarice watches him for a moment, a sad smile on her features, before she steps out of the room - leaving Christian to rest on his own.