6822/Clarice's Mea Culpa

Clarice's Mea Culpa
Date of Scene:	06 July 2021
Location:	Hope House
Synopsis:	Clarice and Nicolai patch things up - then Clarice gets trounced at foosball.
Cast of Characters:	Clarice Ferguson, Nicolai Codona

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Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    The same gill-slitted woman sits behind the desk in Hope House when Clarice walks through the doors, and Angie stares at the fae-like teleporter with widened eyes. Clarice offers a simple nod in response, and without saying anything to the receptionist - drops onto one of the chair with a tablet in her hands, and starts silently working on something. She seems perfectly content to stay right there for as long as it takes.
    "Umm - Mister Codona..."
    "Nix. What is it, Angie?"
    "You know that girl who, umm, threw your stuff around the lobby that one day? She's, uhh... here. Thought you should..."

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    Nicolai has an office in this place somewhere but few ever see it, because he's never in it. That's why he's gone to little ear piece comms for Angie to keep in touch with him throughout the day. They aren't fancy things like 'hero teams' might use but they serve the purpose.

    After a second passes, "Uh... he's out back," Angie tells Clarice before she gestures toward the recreation room. "Through there. And ummmm, vendies are free on the way!" That last bet was delivered along with a big old forced, hokey smile.

    The rec room is crowded today with pre-teen and teenage Bushwick residents, not all of them are even mutants, but likely the children of or the siblings of, considering the city. All of the game tables are in use. Most of the seating around the edges of the room is filled. Just kids, laughing and having fun, off the streets and out of the heat.

    Nicolai is, indeed, out back along with a few other kids. He's shirtless, wearing a pair of royal blue and white nylon athletic shorts that almost hit the tops of his knees and a pair of Nikes. Curls are plastered to his face from the sweat he's worked up - it *is* hot out. Seems there's a game of HORSE happening between him and two mid-teenish kids, one could easily pass as human - maybe he is? But the other one is bald, too thin and has skin the color of onyx.

    "HA, That's S for you Mr. C!" the little onyx kid barks out when Nicolai misses a far court layup.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice nods wordlessly, turning off the screen of her tablet. She walks through the rec room, looking around at the kid's playing at the tables - a smile breaking across her lips for a moment. As she emerges in the back, she watches the game of HORSE for a moment - then steps off to the side, leaning back against the wall of the building - waiting silently. If Nicolai glances her way she simply offers a nod to him, a small, slightly forced smile.
    She's trying to avoid looking like she wants to crawl into a hole and hide. She's not entirely successful at this attempt.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    Nicolai tosses the ball to the human looking kid and tells him, "I give, kick his ass for me," along with a nod the other direction, back at the Onyx skinned mutant.

    This is because, well, he has seen Clarice. He scoops up his discarded 'wife-beater' and is pulling it on as he approaches her. The scars from their trip to Genosha are still there, still a red against his skin, obvious, but not in an infected way. Other than this odd blood replacement, he really *is* just mostly normal - that is to say his shit takes time to fully heal.

    "Clarice," he greets and, yes, there's a little - call it lingering annoyance in his tone when he says her name.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice gaze goes to those marks - lingering there until the shirt is pulled down to cover them - and then lifting to find Nicolai's bright gaze instead. She'd tried to take up a posture of casual relaxation against the wall - but that fades completely as Nicolai approaches, her body going tense as her form and the abruptly uncertain expression on her features gives every impression that she's considering the possibility of simply rabbiting. After all - that's always an easy option for her.
    "Nicolai," she offers softly in return.
    "I, umm... I came to talk," she offers. Hell, she sounds more uncertain than Angie.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    "Yeah, well, I guess that's better than trying to destroy all my shit," Nicolai replies - irritated! But he sucks in a breath, lets it out slowly and says, "I'm glad you're here." He really does seem to mean that. A person can be pissed at someone and still not want them gone from their lives or whatever.

    But still, he has to get his shit out there, he's not one to hold it in. His tone isn't angry anymore, it's soft, almost gentle. "Some of that shit was really important to me, things Cristian gave me, hell even things he'd made himself. They can't be replaced."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Her gaze drops away at his irritation, her hands tightening on the tablet in her hands. This is a mistakes this is a mistake this is a mistake.
    As the rest of his words register, though, her gaze flicks back up to his again - surprise registering on her features. "I-" she starts, not really sure where she was going with that. There's a moment of silence before she tries again. "I don't have anything like that," she admits. "I didn't realize."
    And then, softly, "I didn't mean to hurt you. Betsy said I... It was an accident. I'm sorry."

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    Nicolai's hand strays up toward the side of his head for a moment, reflexive, before he drops it to his side again, he's still having to work to hide that little shaved spot there from the stitches he had to have, but he has one thick head of hair, so it show... much. "Yeah, well, I got a hard head."

    Another deep breath, two, three before. "Clarice, even if that stuff *wasn't* important to me, it was still *my* stuff. When you disrespect someone else's property, you're indirectly disrespecting them."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice goes from looking contrite, embarrassed, and uncomfortable - to a flash of angry frustration crossing over her features. "When you say the Brotherhood isn't accomplishing any good - isn't helping anyone - you're disrespecting //me//," she shoots back without hesitation. "I work hard. If I hadn't- I saved Dyani's life from those Hydra assholes that enslaved her. She'd be dead right now. //I'd// still be in- in hell right now if it weren't for the Brotherhood." Her gaze flicks past Nicolai to the children with their basketball game, before quickly returning to Nicolai, her expression tight, closed, and angry.
    "You disrespected me," she insists, struggling - and thankfully succeeding - at keeping her voice contained to a low growl as her fingers once more tighten around her tablet.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    "I never said they weren't doing anything, but they're not doing *enough*, neither is Xavier," Nicolai returns without skipping a beat. "If I had *their* resources, there would be a place like this in every major city in every state in this country and abroad. Running in for the rescue only when rescue is the last option is *not the same* as helping our people not need rescuing in the first place."

    This may just be one of those agree to disagree things, because the way his eyes flash a little brighter and the stubborn set of his jaw, nah, his stance isn't changing either.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice remains tense and angry - pinned between between Nicolai and the wall behind her. It could be enough to make someone feel trapped - if they weren't a teleporter.
    "I work hard," she insists with frutration. "I'm doing what I know how to do - hell, like we saved those five people from that murderer!" He knows which one, obviously. "We make a difference - doing what we know how to do. I... I don't know anything about this sort of..." One hand comes free of her tablet to gesture towards the space around them.
    "What the hell do you want from me? I give everything I've got to the cause - why isn't that good enough?" she asks.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    "I don't blame the Brotherhood's shortcomings on *you*, Clarice. I only blame your inability to see them on you." Nicolai takes a step back, then another. "Tell me, honestly, which think is the better way to help our people? Wasting an unfathomable amount of funds on an *Asteroid* or... how ever many places like this those funds could run?"

    He pointed looks over his shoulder toward the glass door leading to the rec room. "How many lives, how many kids can be saved just by giving them a place to be *safe*."

    Nicolai turns his attention back to Clarice, voice a little softer, but it wasn't angry before - just passionate. "Fighting for mutant rights is important and I plan on continuing that. Saving our people from horrible situations is important and I plan on continuing that as well, but when it comes right down to it... nothing changes if nothing changes and those changes have to come from *within*, from giving our kids, our families, our *people* a better position from which to build a life that *isn't* lived in poverty and fear."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    It helps when his tone softens - but Clarice remains tensely wound, frustration still foremost on her features. "I never said this wasn't a good thing," she shoots back. "It's just- it's not something I know how to do. I know how to kill. That's //all// I as taught Nicolai. It's- it's the only thing I know how to do, and I use the best I can, to help our people. And the Asteroid- well. Magneto wanted to keep his people safe. Sixteen million of his people had just been killed - and he wanted somewhere to keep us safe. Why can't you understand that?" she asks.
    "...Genosha was wiped out. You saw it. They all died... I barely survived. I was in a coma for months," she tells him. "That's why he made the Asteroid. Why is that so wrong?"

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    "Because, Clarice, our people can't live forever up there," Nicolai points to the sky. "It's Magneto waving his dick, showing how almighty and powerful he is because he can create a fucking livable rock in *space*."

    He literally tosses his hands up before, "You know what, we're going to have to agree to disagree. You think open bars on an asteroid are important, I don't. I think it's frivolous and ridiculous and even more so, since all of the sudden, he's claiming to want to sing Kumbaya."

    Another deep breath, a really big one and he sighs it out along with, "Like I said before, you're always welcome here. You're my friend, I care about you. But I don't agree with what the Brotherhood is doing."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "The fucking bar isn't important... but it's nice. It's nice to have somewhere... somewhere safe to go, after-" Tears start to streak down her face, and she turns away abruptly as she tries to block out the faces of the mutants she //couldn't// save the day she saved Dyani. "I work hard," she repeats again, the anger drained out of her voice. She sounds exhausted, instead. "I'm glad you're doing all this, it's... it's good. It's important. But I work hard, doing the only thing I know how to do. Trying to save lives, trying to save our people. And... and if you can't see how that work is valuable, too, then-" Then fuck you.
    "Anyways. I'm sorry I hurt you. I... hope I didn't break anything. That's- that's what I came to say."

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    "You're making this about you and it isn't," Nicolai points out. "It's about the ones with the purse strings not doing enough, not about you not doing enough." Because he never, ever once said 'Clarice you're not doing enough'.

    "I'm wealthy, Clarice, I have resources available to me to make this place happen in what? A few weeks. Magneto? His wealth makes me look like a pauper. Yet..." ... "Never mind... just, this isn't about *you*."

    He takes a step closer and, it might be that he's considering hugging her, but he remembers what happened last time and stops short. "It's nice for them to have a safe place after too..." He gestures to that rec room again. "...after, just having to live life in this fucked up world that doesn't accept them for who they are, what they are. I think that's more important than an open bar, and so should Magneto... and Mystique, if they're really set on helping in every way possible."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Magneto isn't here. Neither is Mystique," Clarice points out flatly. "And the Brotherhood is everything to me. I don't even exist without them. Don't you get that? I wasn't even a... person anymore before they saved me. I was Mutate #083. I was a tool - a weapon. Nothing more." She keeps her back turned to Nicolai as she speaks, her voice quiet.
    "Why... is it so hard for you to say that our work matters too? That- that the things that I do are important? Can't you just say that? Don't we need both?"

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    Nicolai lets out an exasperated sigh. "I *never* said it wasn't. In fact, I said it was and that I'm still working those ends the best that I can alone too. I *still* go out every night." And not to party! "So why can't *they* do both? Because Magneto doesn't want anything to do with it unless it's 'big'. Again, this is not about you, my feelings about the Brotherhood... it's not about you."

    He runs both hands back through that mop of sweat sticky curls. It leaves them in a horrible state of disarray that still somehow manages to look... styled. Some women would absolutely kill for that hair. "Magneto's efforts are about Magneto's ego. Just because I don't agree with him, with mutant Asteroids in space... I never said you weren't important or the things you do aren't important, they are. I said... again.. that *they* could do more."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice doesn't answer for a while - as she stares unseeing at some unimportant piece of the wall in front of her, struggling to keep her breathing slow and even. As close as Nicolai stands, though, he can doubtlessly hear that it isn't entirely steady.
    "Okay," is all she finally trusts herself to say in a quiet voice, both hands still clasped tightly around her tablet. It seems to be all she's capable of - for the moment.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    "Betcha I can beat you at foosball," Nicolai offers softly after a moment or two. "C'mon, I'll run the younguns off the table for a minute." As if he's *ancient*, dude just turned twenty-five.

    He steps away and turns to head inside the building, leaving Clarice to come along, or not, when she's ready. "Make sure you put that ball away, Lincoln!" he calls over to the two boys still goofing at the basketball goal. "...and leave the shed key with Angie." The little onyx skinned kid calls back, "You got it, Mr. C!"

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice neither answers nor moves as Nicolai steps away - remaining turned towards the wall, with her back to the children and their basketball game. She remains there long enough for Nicolai to enjoy a game or two with the children at the foosball table, and when she finally steps into the rec room, it's to approach the drink machine and stare at it for a while, before punching for a cola.
    It's almost certainly not the drink she actually wants.
    She finally approaches the table slowly - her tablet in one hand, her soda in the other, and her features showing every sign that she had, yes, recently been in tears. At least she has it under control for the moment as she watches the game play out wordlessly.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    The laughter and fun of the kids in the room might be a little bit contagious. It's the sounds of children that haven't had a lot of joy in their lives finally finding at least a little.

    His laughter is just as boisterous as theirs when the girl - she's about fourteen maybe? - scores the winning goal against Nicolai.

    "No offense, but you suck, Mr. C," she teases. Her s's are all ssssss and drawn out, her tongue forked when she speaks.

    "No, you're just really good at this, Abby," he counters before nodding his head in Clarice's direction. "How about giving someone else a chance to beat me?"

    The girl waves at Clarice and explains, "He's definitely a righty, if you can play against his left, you'll get'm for sure," before she steps back from the table.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "I've never played before," Clarice admits, smiling briefly at the girl, though her posture and expression still remain largely subdued. She takes another sip of her drink, then looks uncertainly at the tablet in her hand. In a blink of purple energy, it vanishes from sight - doubtlessly reappearing in her room on the Asteroid. The drink is set at the edge of the table.
    "His left, huh?" she repeats - fiddling with the handles, and trying to get handle on the game.
    She gives it a serious go - but honestly, unless Nicolai goes extremely easy on her - he trounces her entirely.
    Just before he sinks the winning score, though, the ball blinks out - reappearing in the opposite direction, and quickly falling into Nicolai's goal instead.
    "I guess that's game," she conceeds anyways, retrieving her drink. "...I should go," she adds, giving Nicolai a nod, and a brief smile.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    "Cheater." He had been going easy, he really LOVES this game, so he's good at it.

    "You don't have to y'know. Stay for a bit, hang with the kids. I need to go take care of a few things, but I'll just be down the street."

    Leaving the choice to Clarice, he's made it abundantly clear that she's always welcome here so - he heads on out to take care of business and stuff.