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For once Alison isn't dressed all that dazzling, far away from being on stage or the ever watching eye of the media, she's dressed in a rather simple homely getup, under layers of coats, gloves, and boots to keep warm. She's currently walking about the rear grounds, possibly looking for inspiration.
Meanwhile, the more-human-sized back door of the mansion's extensive garage is partially open, by a little glow of some lights, and surf music plays on a portable record player: Dizzy leans against the wall, there, drawing thoughtfully on a cigarette in the little pool of light, and occasionally sipping from a dark beer bottle as she watches the Moon break in and out of the clouds.
After a sufficent time alone outside, Alison eventually walks back in, through the garage door rather than the rear patio, "hey," she murmurs quietly at Dizzy who is lingering there, "playing mechanic?" She asks curiously, starting to take off her coat.
Julie smirks as Dazzler comes in, giving a welcoming gesture as she comes in, "Who's playing?" she says, though more bemused than offended, perhaps. She of all people is aware of what that field of work is like for girls in these times, despite being the shop and Driver's Ed teacher here at a school where people are a lot more out of the ordinary than that. "Just been working on a few things while it's quiet here, really. She lifts the bottle again, it's a Schaeffer beer, and says, "Care for one of these? Have a seat if you want, it's pretty warm in here, I just needed to let some fresh air in." The choices are largely an assortment of stools on casters, but there's a couple of more officey-like things by a desk on one wall.
Alison shrugs, "sorry if I offended," she offers, not quite sure, it's just that for the most part that entire world is entirely alien to her. "I can hang for a bit," Alison muses, as she moves to settle down on a seat, shaking her head at the offer of beer, "thanks, I'm trying to keep a clear head, working on a new album is a creatively taxing affair."
Julie nods, waving a hand to dismiss notions of offense, "Oh, believe me, at my uncle's shops, it's just as well people don't know 'Dizzy' ain't some guy on an invoice. Takes a while to get a good enough rep that way that some'll let it slide." She puffs again, shrugging a bit and settling on one of those stools; as an afterthought, she hrms, and stretches out a bit of vrrring mutant powers to wheel her stool over within reach of closing the door, with a wink. "Some folks, I guess it helps, not that I got the gift for composing music or nothing, …lucky to play along half-decent. Real groovy stuff you did with that whole demon army thing, speaking of gifts, how's that work, anyway?"
Alison laughs as Julie reflect her experience from her uncle's shop, "I'm sure you're right about that, nobody would want a bird handling their car, would they?" Alison chuckles, "I'm sure you're probably average or better among the guys who work there." Alison grins when the subject switches to her comfort song, even if only slightly, "I guess we're each naturally gifted in different areas." Stretching back, she reflects on the night with the demons, "…it was exhilarating…I don't usually use my powers for anything more than entertainment…"
Julie nods. "I kinda… Keep a low profile about the mutant part,, occasional jokes about having a magic touch with some stuff aside. I just, ah, keep ending up in situations lately, I guess. Kinda why I took the Prof up on his offer. As for who's better than who, well, it's kind of a family business, so everyone's been learning from the old masters, kinda. As for who wants my work, well, maybe you'll get a chance to check some out some time."
"Are you kidding? Nobody knows I'm a mutant…I keep saying in public and to media in interview that it's Stark Tech when they ask," Alison sighs, "I'm afraid of what might happen if they do find out…" she grins at Julie when she speaks of the Prof, "Xavier came to one of my shows, he convinced me to come here…"
Julie nods to Alli. "Well, as long as Mr. Stark plays along, you got no real worries anyone spilling anything around here. I mean, unless someone feels like cooking all our gooses in the process." She settles back about as much as the stool allows, and says, "Speaking of creative, you heard these guys yet? Some off-label single I picked up on the other coast…"