6712/A Conversation of Emotions, the Past and the Future

A Conversation of Emotions, the Past and the Future
Date of Scene:	27 June 2021
Location:	Mystique's Quarters
Synopsis:	Clarice and Raven discuss the teleporter's recent temper tantrum.
Cast of Characters:	Raven Darkholme, Clarice Ferguson

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Raven Darkholme has posed:
Not too late in the night, but after most have headed off to their rooms, Mystique sends a message to Clarice. The message is simple, "If you have a moment, I would like to talk to you. It can wait until tomorrow if you are already in bed."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice //is// in her bed. But Clarice is in her bed working on her homework. She's staring at a math problem that - no matter how many times she puts in the answer - keeps stubbornly coming back as incorrect. The issue here is that it's a world problem - so not only does she have to //math// correctly, she also has to //read// correctly, and really? That's just an unfair expectation.
    She'll take anything in place of a word problem.
    "Yeah, what's up?" she says casually as she's admitted to Mystique's room - dressed in a loose shirt and a pair of comfortable shorts. Obviously her pajamas. The shirt even says 'DinoSnore' with an image of a sleeping dino on it.
    What? She thought it was cute.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Once again there is an extra chair, this time by the desk, for Clarice to claim. Mystique is sitting her chair, but she is already turned around facing the door when she announces Clarice can enter. Her yellow eyes look Clarice over as she gestures to the chair, a grin playing at the corners of her mouth.

"You were already in bed." she comments, not adding anything about the pajamas. "You could have waited until tomorrow, it's nothing serious."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice gives a shrug of her shoulders. "I wasn't sleeping, though. Just - you know. Working on my tablet," she replies. She never admits to doing 'homework' - even if that was something that ate up almost an hour of her time each day. "Now's fine. What is it?" she asks, as she drops into the seat.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique hmms, trying to decide if it's worth it at this hour, but since she is here.

"I'd like you tell me what happened with Nicolai," she states. "And I don't mean just the jist of it, I mean details. Something happened, and I want to know what it was."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice's relaxed posture changes - her jaw clenching, and her gaze shifting off to the side. Just //how// does Mystique always know these things? Had she been keeping an eye on Nicolai and his 'Hope House' in Bushwick? Was she aware that things had been removed from Nicolai's room? ...perhaps it was both?
    "There isn't much to tell, but I'd really rather not talk about it. He said he's leaving the Brotherhood, and staying in Bushwick. He doesn't think we do enough to help people there. I... lost my temper. That's about all there is to it," she answers stiffly.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique tilts her head, one brow lifting. "So you are letting your personal feelings interfere with this, and that explains the underwear raining down in the lobby of Hope House?" She folds her arms lightly across her chest. "Yes Clarice, I know these things because I pay attention to everything, and I also know damn well that you don't know how to handle your emotions at all. So you are going to talk this out, we are going to work this out, because you can't keep going through life acting like a petulant teenager, which is how you handle it."

Now she hands Clarice a bottle of sweet honey bourbon, "Start explaining everything."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    There's a long, sullen silence as Clarice stares down at the floor off to her right, away from Mystique. Finally, though, she picks up the bottle - uncorking it, and pouring an unhealthily large amount into one of the glasses. "What's there to say?" she asks - as she stares at the amber liquid. She takes a drink before continuing. "He doesn't think we're accomplishing anything good. Fuck him, we don't need him," she declares.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Sitting back, arms still across her chest, Mystique watches Clarice closely. Reading body language and still getting petulant teenager off her.

"Why does that anger you so much?" She asks bluntly, pouring herself a little in the other glass and taking a sip. "Why does it matter what some piece of shit thinks? Explain to me what you feel Clarice, stop locking it up."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    As Mystique persists - Clarice meets her gaze, and there's something almost pleading there. "I don't want to talk about this..." she breathes, before looking away again, taking another swig from her glass.
    Yet she remains right where she is, rather than making any real attempt to escape the converstation - when it was so painfully obvious that she could, if she truly wanted. So why doesn't she?

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique sets the glass down, unfolds her legs and reaches out to take one of Clarice's hands in both of her own.

"Listen to me Clarice," she starts. "Look at me and listen. I did what you're doing. I locked it away. I refused to talk about it. I hide from it. I drank it away. Do... not... be... me. Talk about it. I won't laugh, I won't judge, I won't tease... I want to help you with this, and you need help with it, so let me help you."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice looks towards Mystique again, then away once more, but she makes no attempt to extract her hand from the woman's grasp. A few tears start to streak down her cheeks, as she struggles to find words - but explaining her emotions is so far outside her skill set and experience. "I- I don't know what to say," she admits.
    Uncertainly, she hazards, "He- he said we would still be friends."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique scoots herself closer, reaching up to wipe the tear away. "You feel abandoned, right? Like someone you care about just up and left for a reason that you don't agree with?"

This was hard. This was reaching deep into herself to find the feelings she shoved aside a long time ago so she can see them in Clarice and help the girl find the words to express what she feels. She never wanted to feel like this herself, not again, not after everything she'd gone through in her life but she knew that she couldn't ask Clarice to feel it and express if she herself maintained that block... so she felt it and hated it.

"Take each thing, one at a time if you can, and put to words what it is... scream it if you have to."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Her gaze flicks towards Mystique again - just for a moment - then fixes back on the glass in her hand, before she takes another deep drink. How to explain it? How to put it all in words?
    "He said we would still be friends..." she repeats quietly.
    "But he thinks so little of the Brotherhood. He thinks- he thinks we aren't accomplishing anything. We aren't doing any good. We aren't //helping// anyone." Her voice slowly grows in strength, and volume, and frustration as she speaks. "I work my ass off, and it sure as fuck isn't for //me//. Isn't for //my// benefit. He thinks we're not doing anything? What the //hell//?
    "He thinks the Brotherhood doesn't accomplish anything?" Her free hand abruptly moves in a blur of motion as she flings the glass against the wall. "Fuck that. That's //bullshit//," she spits out angrily. She remains in chair - posture tense, and gaze glaring at nothing in particular.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
There it is, exactly what Mystique was waiting for. She doesn't flinch, she doesn't move, she doesn't really react at all to it.

"Anger," she states softly. "That is the right emotion for this, what he said was uncalled for, as if he didn't care about you at all or what you do. He wasn't here long enough to judge us, was he? No... he decided on his own that we weren't doing anything, not helping anyone, and he's wrong. You know it, I know it. Be angry about it Clarice, don't lock that up... be angry then figure out what in all that made you angry, and what emotions are behind that anger."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Of course I'm angry," Clarice spits out in frustration. "He- He doesn't know- this is..." She struggles for words again, looking briefly towards Mystique, as if she would find the answer there, and then away again - just as quickly. "The Brotherhood's my only family. They- they saved me. They came for me when- when no one else did." She shakes her head. "We don't help people? What the fuck does that mean? What the fuck does he know?"

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Picking up the second glass, Mystique offers it to Clarice for a drink. "He doesn't know shit. He's talking out his ass, completely out of his ass. He expects results over night in a situation that's been on going for longer than he's been alive."

Now she picks up the bottle and adds little more to the glass, in case Clarice wants more to drink as she hadn't put much in there in the first place.

"If he were here, right now, what would you say to him Clarice?" In that moment, she is no longer Mystique, she is Nicolai sitting there with a bottle in his hand.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice takes the glass, takes a drink from it - and then abruptly, Nicolai is in the room. His form, his voice... She shoves away abruptly, knocking over her chair and almost stumbling in her abrupt reaction to this unexpected stimuli. "Fuck!" she exclaims elloquently.
    "Don't- don't do that. Change back," she commands. "Change back!"
    At least she managed to keep the glass in her hand.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique changes back, that was not the reaction she was expecting at all.

"I'm sorry Clarice," she offers quickly, standing up. "I was... I thought it would help for you to scream it out at him in practice, I'm so sorry." She looks like someone just kicked a puppy, an emotion that lingers longer than she would normally let it before she locks it back up, and steps back, giving Clarice her space.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "...I just didn't expect it, is all," Clarice answers, only glancing briefly towards Mystique - mostly just to reassure herself that Mystique was indeed //Mystique// right now. "I just- I don't want to see him right now. He doesn't want anything to do with me, doesn't- doesn't think anything of me. So why should I- Why should I think anything of him?" she asks, before helping herself to another sip of drink in her hand, leaving the chair still toppled on the floor.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique doesn't move back, she stays those few steps back.

"Clarice, did you have feeling for Nicolai before this? Romantic feelings? I ask because the way you talk, the things you say, it makes sense if you did. Be honest with me."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Now her gaze is on Mystique - though only out of the corner of her eyes. It lingers there - her expression uncertain. "...no?" she finally answers. "I- I don't think so. I- we were friends. I thought we were friends. I thought- I thought he cared about me. I thought I mattered to him. I was wrong."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique still doesn't move, she also doesn't fully believe Clarice but will accept the answer all the same.

"There may be a chance that you are over reacting slightly to losing a friend then," she offers quietly. "But then again, I don't think so. Others may tell you you are, but you haven't had many friends in your life, and even fewer have you lost. I don't think he truly meant to hurt you however," she adds now, moving to start picking up the glass shards. "I think he was being selfish and choose it words poorly, and lost a friend because of it."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "I only have the Brotherhood," Clarice answers quietly. "I don't need anyone else." Well. The Brotherhood, and Lorna. Obviously. She takes another drink from the glass in her hand before adding, "I didn't mean to break the glass. I'm sorry. I could, umm, try blinking the shards away?" she asks. Would it work? Could she specify just the glass shards - and not accidentally take carpet along with it?
    She honestly wasn't entirely sure.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique shrugs slightly, getting the bigger pieces picked up. "No need to apologize," she offers, then stands and looks to Clarice. "Never close that door Clarice, never. You get to live your life, the Brotherhood is /not/ your life. You get to be young, to have fun, to /live/... remember that, because I'll keep reminding you and if you fail to do so, then I guess I'll just have to give you orders again just to take time for yourself and do something other than work."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice shifts uncomfortably, staring down into her bourbon as if she'll find the answers she seeks there.
    She doesn't, of course.
    "I don't need anything else," she counters quietly. "I have the Brotherhood, Genosha, Lorna... The world we're rebuilding. I'm fine."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Dropping the glass into a garbage can, Mystique walks over and stands the chair back up.

"Bullshit," she states very bluntly. "That's not living, that's existing... we are trying to give mutants a better life, not better existence. You can't say you want to make things better for them, then exist in a vacuum Clarice, that's called being a hypocrite."

She gestures to the now righted chair, the moves to sit in her chair again, but scoots it back away from Clarice. "You want to make the same mistakes I did, or learn from them now instead of living one hundred and thirty years before getting it?"

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "...I don't know how else to live," Clarice admits quietly, still staring deeply into her glass, before shooting Mystique a cautious look. "I'm- I'm not unhappy. Usually. I enjoy our work. I enjoy helping others, and I enjoy- I enjoy stopping the people who hurt others." She takes a few steps back towards the righted chair - but she doesn't sit again, not quite yet.
    "And I do have a better life." Though that's not much of a metric, compared to what she had before.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique picks up the bottle to steal a drink, no back wash, she's careful.

"You have a better life from being a slave? That's not much of a gage Clarice, so the debate on living or existing still stands as you just existing. I plan to change that." She sets the bottle down, watching Clarice as she does.

She preaches, so time to own up. "I haven't been living a life either. I've thrown everything into doing my job in a way I thought was best. I killed, I terrorized, I ruined lives... including my own. There is no redemption for the things I've done Clarice, but I've got to try, and that means trying to have a life beyond this place. If I'm doing it, you're doing it with me."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice watches Mystique for a moment before offering quietly, "No one believes me - when I say that you care. They think I'm naive. That I'm just... just some damaged child you've manipulated. I know what they think, I'm not an idiot. But none of them believe me. They aren't... here. They don't see it." Clarice sees it. She takes another drink from her glass, finishing off its contents before dropping back into her seat again at last.
    "I don't know how to live," she admits. "Not like other people do. I mean- I do have fun, sometimes. And not just- on jobs. Not just... killing or whatever."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Another drink from the bottle, a much larger one. This was agonizing to Mystique, even if it didn't show. To let herself relive some things, to /feel/ it and not just lock it away.

"They're not wrong Clarice," she finally says. "Based on what they know, and what I did to Rogue, they aren't wrong. They don't know me now, prefer not to know me, because they see what was in the past and assume I'm still that way. That person they know is still in here," she points to herself, to her chest. "That person is a mask I have worn for a very long time. They mean well in warning you, because I am a horrible person, but I'm trying to be better."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice is silent for a moment, looking down at her empty glass, then back to Mystique once more. "I've... more or less said those words," she admits. "No one believes me. No one listens." She falls silent for a moment before asking what is probably an unexpected question.
    "What did happen with Rogue?" She'd been rescued from Genosha before Rogue left the Brotherhood. But it had taken a while before Clarice really found herself. And there were some things from that time that she'd managed to overlook - or had quite frankly been kept from her.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Oh boy, here we go.

Mystique pours more sweet bourbon in Clarice's glass as she says bluntly, "I was a horrible, manipulative, abusive cunt. I put the needs of the Brotherhood, or what I thought they were, before her and used her like a tool instead of treating her like a daughter."

The bottle gets set down on the desk and looks over at the monitor with the screen saver going. "So you see, they all have good reason not to believe you."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Well... yeah," Clarice confirms quietly. "I mean - Nicolai asked. After what happened down by the train tracks. That's pretty much what I told him. But I don't really know... the story. The specifics." She knows she's treading dangerous territory, but she asks it anyways. After all, Mystique had asked //her// hard questions.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
The swirling colors on the monitor seem to hold her attention now, the lines moving through the rainbow. It looks cheerful and light, but Mystique wasn't really seeing it. Her eyes were looking into the past, to every mistake, every pain she has caused. There were a lot, but none more prominent in her mind then those caused to Rogue and Kurt.

"What did Nicolai not have the balls to ask me directly about?" She asks then, looking back over at Clarice. "About how Remy and Rogue reacted toward me?"

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Yes," Clarice confirms simply. She doesn't flinch this time - after all, the conversation, finally, isn't really //about// her. "And I tried to explain things as I understood them. But he wouldn't listen, like no one ever does," she admits. She finally lifts her refilled glass - taking a sip.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique nods slowly, then looks back to the monitors.

There is a silence for a short time, each moment ticking by before she says, "Then this is my fault as well." She had suspected it, but had confirmation now. "And for that, I'm truly sorry. I think you should tell the others that you avoid me, and then do so. You'll need them in your future Clarice, they're good people and care about you. Well not Nix, he can go fuck himself, but the others, most definitely."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice shakes her head - the response is immediate, and fierce. "No," she says. "Fuck that, no. They can listen to me. They can respect that I'm intelligent enough to make my own decisions, and- and read people for myself, or they can do fuck themselves, as well." She scoffs. "What do you think they say when I mention Mister Creed? You think I'm going to turn my back on him? //No//. If they don't understand- they don't..." She shakes her head again. "I don't need them."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Her head turns slightly to look at Clarice as Mystique says firmly, "Yes you do. You may not realize it, but you do."

Turning her whole body in the chair to be facing the young mutant again more fully, she continues with, "They are allies in a long, drawn out battle against humans for Mutant rights. They may do it differently, but they are still allies. In the past I would have told you to use that, to use them, but that's not how it works. We all need to work together Clarice, like it or not, and that means we all need each other."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Well... yes," Clarice admits quietly. "But that doesn't mean I'm turning my back on you - or Mister Creed. //Ever//," she asserts. "No matter what people say. No matter how people treat me. I don't care." Her gaze is locked onto Mystique's features now as she talks. "And honestly - you know I'd blink you down to a lonely desert island if you ever tried to get me to turn my back on Mister Creed. What makes you think I'd do any less to folks trying to get me to turn my back on you?"

Raven Darkholme has posed:
A dark smile touches Mystique's face, "Because whereas Victor is a homicidal maniac in the worst sense of those words, and they see him as a killer without a soul, they also know he was made that way. Me, I'm a manipulative monster who could, if given time, make you come to hate everything you once loved, and love the things you used to hate. I am not exaggerating, I've done just that in the past."

Another drink is taken, a large one, before she sets the bottle back on the desk. "I'd never do that to you, and I'd never ask you to leave or stay away from Victor. He needs you as much as you need him, and anyone who says other wise clearly is not paying attention."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Not many bother to look at all," Clarice remarks simply, in a quiet voice. "But I think Lorna accepts it, now." And that was a start. That was the one that really mattered, anyways. She takes a sip of her bourbon before adding, "Fuck Mister Creed's dad, though. I'm glad he killed him," she mutters under her breath. Maybe she just //presumes// Mystique knows this story already?
    Mystique knows everything.
    "You didn't really answer my question, though," she points out. "About Rogue. Is this where you tell me to leave well enough alone?"

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique takes a moment to think, then explains everything regarding Rogue to Clarice. She leaves nothing out this time, every little detail is revealed. (Writer doesn't know, so faking it here!)

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    There's a moment of surprise on Clarice's features as Mystique actually shares the facts of what happened. And she lapses into silence for a while - lifting her glass to her lips for another sip. Did she dare ask about the cliff?
    ...no. But there's a brief flick of her gaze to Mystique's features as she considers doing so.
    Instead she finally offers, "I told Nicolai... I tried to explain that I thought- that you did do those things to Rogue. But that I thought losing her was what had changed you. That you realized your mistake to late," she voices quietly, and with sympathy.
    And either she was right - or Mystique was everybit the masterful manipulator everyone claimed, and she was every bit the idiot everyone believed.
    But she didn't honestly believe //that//. Maybe they wouldn't either, if they could see Mystique like this.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique stands up and walks toward the window in her room, smaller though it was it still offered a view of the stars.

"No one would believe that of me," she says quietly. "Why would Mystique care?" There is a silence that lingers here, heavily in the air before she turns slightly and looks at Clarice.

"Mystique doesn't care, Raven does."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    There's almost uncertainty in Clarice's eyes before she offers quietly, "You never go by Raven, though." Did she want Clarice to start calling her Raven? If so- when? Certainly not when they were handling Brotherhood business? ...right?

Raven Darkholme has posed:
A slight shrug is offered, followed by a shake of her head, "I don't know Clarice, I... I'm two people inside this body right now, at least that's what it feels like. The safe one, the one that doesn't care, the one that wants to take over the world for Mutants. Then the other, who wants to care, who wants the best for Mutants but wants... so much more."

Her eyes go back to the stars. "I don't remember what it is to have been Raven, I don't remember her, and yet she's me. I've buried her so deep that I don't know if she will ever truly live again. I think..." she pauses for a moment, the stars still keeping her focus. "I think sometimes I need to be Raven, and other times remain Mystique. If I'm going to have any sort of redemption, I think that's how it has to be."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "On days like today, I think it would be easier not to care," Clarice admits in a wry tone. "But... What would keep me moving forward? Why would I fight for my fellow mutants - if I didn't care? You've //always// cared," she counters. "You've cared too much. That's always been what motived you."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique's brow lifts as she looks back at Clarice. "I don't think anyone else in the world would see it that way Clarice, but it's not wrong. I want Mutants to be free, to have a place, to not be seen as freaks and monsters. I want humans to get their self righteous heads out of their asses and just... get it. I want equality, I want..." she shakes her head and laughs. "I'd do anything, and I have done many things, to make that happen. Maybe I have cared too much, but I've also become jaded and distant. I've lost so many friends... to this war, and make no mistake that is what this is, a war for equality."

Walking back over to the chair she sits herself down, and despite all the words and the clear release of emotions, the mask on her face remains intact. Some things will clearly take time.

"You should go sleep Clarice, I have to finish watching a few surveillance videos then I intend to sleep."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Well, of course it's not wrong," Clarice says firmly. Then she adds wryly, "But maybe that's part of why people think I'm naive, and simply a victim of your manipulations." She finishes off her drink, setting aside the glass as she rises. "I shouldn't finish my home- ...I should finish what I was working on," she agrees.
    "Goodnight... Raven."