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The back property has plenty of wide open spaces that offer a modicum of privacy and Medusa found herself in need of some of that. Not out of some inherent need to be alone - that's nice, but she's amenable to company - but for what she's doing; letting her hair relax and flow around her, rather than keeping it restricted to the minimum six foot length. It feels good to simply let go.
*
Leaves rustle in the trees, birds sing their merry choruses over the drone of an airplane high overhead, and as far as anyone is concerned, an idyllic afternoon settles upon Westchester County. Pity the rustling extends as far as a slim hand and lithe arm, snatching an erstwhile bookbag. In that bag, shockingly, is a heavy volume of some kind, and of all things, a cat. A small, silvery tabby in fact, one with unnaturally dark brown eyes and a protesting mew that sounds disturbingly human. Like "Mooooom" if it didn't end with an 'M.'
"For the last time, Tabitha," murmurs a distinctly feminine voice, "falling asleep on my tea is not acceptable."
The girl, the cat, and the bag land not a very far distance from Medusa. She alights upon the ground with unnatural delicacy, holding out her messenger bag such that the contents shift around, and the cat pokes its face out. "I mean it. You know not what I hold in there, and it's still a violation. Go look for your interdimensional gateways to the plane of missing socks in the girls' dorm."
Tabby hops out and minces past the redheads, tail in the air, and nose with it. Scarlett shakes her head at the sight.
*
Naturally Medusa is startled, and she turns almost immediately in a defensive stance. But it relaxes - or at lease goes to at ease - at the sight of cat and woman. She watches the feline saunter by, full of its species awareness that they are the center of the universe. Experimentally, she extends a lock, batting it playfully at the cat. Oh, foolish Inhuman. What will you have wrought? In the meantime, Scarlett is offered a smile. "Hello. I didn't mean to interrupt."
*
As the cat trots off, Scarlett slings the strap of her bag across her shoulder. "Careful, Tabitha has all the self-control of a twelve-year-old," she notes as the cat goes after a piece of hair. Small grey paws bat with great enthusiasm while the bohemian lends a smile back, though it's one somewhat tarnished and weary. "No interruption at all. We should be the ones apologizing for intruding upon you. I fear we haven't met officially, though I was present at your reunion with your sister." The tactful way of saying 'I helped rescue you' comes easily enough. "It's lovely to see you out and about. I'm called Scarlett."
*
Bemused, because there's a certain vulnerability to someone having met you while you were in a coma, she nonetheless chuckles ruefully and offers, "Medusa. But I'm sure Crystal mentioned it more than once. Thank you for helping to liberate me. The whole thing had a certain irony to it," Medusa absently curls her arms over her torso and abandons her attempt to play with the cat. "I had fallen in with bad people, realized what a mistake it was, and was going to extract myself when that…happened."
*
"Enchanted. I will refrain from titles unless you prefer." Scarlett's braids fall down her back, neatly arranged to hide the frosted effect at her brow, and she looks utterly normal to most observations. The cat trots off, leaving the pair of them. "No thanks is necessary. Doing the right thing is reward enough itself. Have you had much opportunity to leave the institute? At this time of year, the city stops being unbearably hot and far more enjoyable." A curl of her fingers to her palm indicates the green foliage and rolling country beyond the grounds. "I hope they did not harm you."
*
"I don't think they did, but it's hard to know for certain. And I strongly believe that good deeds should be acknowledged." Medusa's smile grows more broad, "The title is only important to the people it's important to." That seems to be her answer to thar, as she also replies, "We've been in the city once, yes. But neither of us can remain in urban areas for terribly long. Are you a student here, Miss Scarlett?" A pause. "Miss Scarlett. Like the lady who made a dress out of her curtains."
*
"That you hold a conversation with me, and your sister looks so very happy is payment enough." Waving her palm to shun the notion of acknowledgment, Scarlett draws nearer and drops into a comfortable kneeling position. She sits lotus-style, feet tucked to her thighs, within moments. "For a time, though I attend Columbia University now. What lessons the institute can offer me are restricted." The faintest trace of irony and shadow lie behind the bright statements. "You are a quick wit; most never realize the connection to that particular belle. Simply Scarlett will do. I use few titles, for the most part. Do you intend to stay here with Crystal for some time?"
*
Medusa chuckles, and after a moment mirrors Scarlett's seated position. Her hairs flairs up all around her to avoid the ground, if she were horizontal it would be like she's floating in a pool, the way her hair moves. "Wits are a requirement for survival. I'm not entirely sure what we're going to do. It may not be fair to the students here if we stay, but likely as not a respite would be welcome." Medusa's doesn't miss the posture, the gestures, the micro-expressions that betray Scarlett, but then she's been interpreting Black Bolt for almost twenty years. "What do you study at Columbia?"
*
The loveliness of the coiffured display, so like a peacock, constitutes something quite fascinating for Scarlett. She watches the effects curiously, measuring the undulations and motion with covert, mannered interest. "I imagine you will be welcome for a while yet. The professor notably offers sanctuary for all who seek it, and profess a peaceful path in life. At least until you determine your direction and how you want to proceed, why rush into a decision?" Her calm lies deep, though the varied impacts of recent days and weeks send her typical radiant self into myriad directions. Though a large part of her expressiveness is restrained, she does not project unfriendliness; rather, this is something other. "Currently, humanities and the arts. Archaeology, anthropology, international relations." A smile lingers at the last, rueful. "That provides something of a crash course in politics at a high level." You don't say.
*
"I suppose the crux of the problem is that Crystal and I don't live particularly peaceful lives." Medusa says frankly. "I would hate to have our war brought to the professor's doorstep when you have all been so kind to us. Especially considering that we are not mutants." That may or may not be a surprise to Rogue. "All engaging topics of study. Do you learn for the joy of it, or do you have a specific goal you're looking toward?" Neither seems a bad choice to Medusa.
*
Scarlett nods slightly. "Few of us do. Several students come from troubled backgrounds or invite chaos. Yours is a different scale, but sympathy rests within all of us for your trials, such as I know of them." Her smile is gentle enough, all the same. "Mutant or not, you bear up well, which is reason enough to help. As for the subjects, they are a passion, I am eager to learn, and I would put them to use healing and mending rifts that divide people and places. If it were possible to resolve a conflict without violence, I wish to be part of that."