1964-10-22 - Roomies and Pedis
Summary: Clarice and Amara hang out in their dorm room.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
clarice-ferguson magma 

It's really not that hard to locate the room that Amara was offering to let Clarice share with her, and when she does find it the door is partially open and music is drifting out of it. Is it some modern strains of music? No. It is Bach that drifts out of the room, and Amara is inside sitting on her bed, painting her toenails.

Carrying a small bag of toiletries she bought and a couple of other bags, Clarice did just a small bit of shopping, but for the most part it's easy to see that the young woman took mostly from what the Institute offered for free. She knocks on the side of the door and the magenta mutant offers a smile. "Hey. Still wanting a roommate?"

Magma glances up from her toes, offering a smile, "Of course." She carefully screws the top back onto the bottle before she gets to her feet, making certain that her toes don't get messed up before she moves to turn the record player off, "Come in."

"You don't have to turn it off.." Clarice offers with a smile as she moves into the room. Setting her stuff on the bed, she starts to unpack it and put it away, unsure about where a couple of things go, but she's trying to get used to it. "How long have you been going to school here?" she asks curiously.

"A little while now, not as long as some, though." Amara replies, smiling once more as she settles on the edge of her bed, "A year? Maybe a little longer…but I went home over the summer, so I've only just returned again."

"Oh. Still have parents at home?" Clarice asks, as she sets out the rest of her stuff and puts it away. Taking a moment, she considers, and then closes the door so that she can change without every guy looking in on her from outside. "It'll be nice to get into some real clothes." she admits as she goes through the process of undressing quickly, her back to Amara as she pulls on a tshirt and underwear before slipping into a pair of shorts. "I mean. Obviously, that's why you went home. Where is home, anyway?"

"A father, yes." Amara admits with a shake of her head, a hand waving in the air just a bit, "I'm from Nova Roma….it is in Brazil." Which, if Clarice were familiar with accents, Amara doesn't sound like she's from Brazil at all. "My father is a politician there, very busy…so it wasn't as nice of a trip home as you'd imagine."

"Brazil? I visited Buenos Ares on a mission once…" And then Clarice trails off. Not exactly a good memory to bring up before she settles on the bed and folds her legs underneath her. "What happened to your mother?"

Magma shakes her head, "Died when I was very young, I don't remember her at all." Which might explain why she doesn't seem terribly sad about it. "I've been to Buenos Ares, briefly. But spent most of my life in Nova Roma, of course…around there, then here."

"Yeah. I was born in the Bahamas." Clarice volunteers. "But my parents moved me to Miami when I was very young, because of the approach of Apocalypse." she admits quietly as she leans back on the bed. Taking out a ball, she tosses it in the air, and flicks a green dart of energy at it. The ball flashes and blinks above her where she snatches it out of the air.

There is a flash of surprise when Clarice teleports the ball, looking momentarily stunned before she shakes it off. "The Apocalypse?" She wonders, her attention once more settling on Clarice's face, "Sounds like it was a rough childhood…:

"Not the Apocalypse. Apocalypse. That was his name. The first mutant. Or so he claimed." Clarice repeats the process with the ball. A flick, pop flash of power, and catches the ball on the rebound. "Said that mutants needed to advance, and he was the intstrument of that. Those of us that were inferior stock? We either became genetic material - or breeders in the slave pens."

"Slaves?" Amara frowns at that, then shakes her head, looking visibly upset by the prospect of that in the future. So much that there's a very faint rumble, possibly easily missed as she suddenly gets up, moving to put the music back on. "Is that how you came to be here, then?"

"No, not really. I was rescued by Mister Creed. Me and Illyana. We were in the pens together." Clarice explains. She studies the ball in her hands. "We spent the next several years training with the others. Our world's X-Men. Except there was no Xavier." she explains. "It's really confusing. But.. we started to fight back. It was a desperate fight, and the humans. What was left of the humans, they wanted to launch a nuclear assault with all the weapons they had left. It would have ended the world. We went to the moon. They had me teleport them all there. And it was going badly. I was supposed to go back to Earth and tell the council. They were supposed to launch the attack. But instead, Illyana interferred with my portal.. and I ended up here."

"Our Illyana?" Amara wonders, her brows furrowing just a little bit at that, frowning, "Or your Illyana?" Because this time thing, it is confusing. The music starts up again, but she turns the volume down so that they can speak without too much trouble.

"My Illyana. I think your Illyana just.. had a spell going on at the same time." Clarice laughs a little. "It's confusing, I know." Though the laughter doesn't laugh long. "So. At least I know I'm not the only one that is stranded here."

"Is that good?" Amara wonders, settling down on the edge of her bed again before scooting back to resume painting her nails, "I don't know anything about…time and things. I'm sorry."

"Well. Maybe in a way, the two futures cancel out?" Clarice offers with a shrug of her shoulder. "But as Hope said, you're the X-Men. Time to make your own future. And not really paying attention to what happened to ours. Do.. are you good at painting nails?" comes the question from a mutant that hasn't worn polish in.. a very long time."

"I'm not interested in what the future is…" Amara admits, glancing up from her toes, her expression sad for a moment, "I don't want to know what happened to me, that is." She then twists the cap back onto the bottle before moving to drag a box out from beneath the bed, "What color would you like?"

"Got comething in purple?" Clarice asks. Might as well keep the color scheme, right? She reaches up to push some hair behind her hair and chuckles. "I didn't even know you, sorry." she admits. "That's the number one question I get, really. There's some I recognize. I mean. Barely."

"Like Illyana." Amara paws through the bottles in the box, finding one of the purples and holding it out towards Clarice for inspection, "Does this purple work?" She then offers a smile, "You're here, though. Best to focus on here, isn't it?"

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