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View character profile for: Clarisse Potts
Tap, tap, tap.
The speed at which her fingers flew across the keyboard could almost be considered a dance of their own, her brown eyes observing a few sentences in each article and then clicking off them almost as quickly. Celebrity gossip? Petty. New movies? Spoilers. Small helpings of articles on sightings of superpowered individuals? Yeah, she didn't need to hear anything more about them. God, maybe she'd just go and teach herself advanced trigonometry. That sounded more enjoyable than this junkyard. Or maybe she'd go and find the latest dating game. She stretched her lips in a long yawn, snatching up a half-empty smoothie and chugging about a quarter more in one swift go. It was too damn hot, and she refused to relinquish her blanket. It was the best company she'd had since ever.
Nah, the weather should just change for her. Huh, that was a good idea actually. Making the clouds spill their load early sounded suitable enough. Heh, "spill their load". She needed to get her mind out of the gutter. Dad hadn't left her anything for such an invention, but a bored girl could dream. Then refuse to get up, naturally. Learning enough to put her oh-so-high IQ to good use required some amount of dedication from her, and she wasn't that motivated. Heck, she was more willing to remember every relevant piece of data on a 2D code so that she could digitally earn their affection script. Heh, ha ha, ha ha...those games were complete and utter garbage. She loved them.
Slinking away and out of her room...wait, why was she leaving the cave? Mom wasn't even home. She was working. Hell, she was working a lot. That seemed to be what the lady did as her damn hobby, so whatever. Leaning against the glass windows of the tower, she stared ahead at the wide view of the city that lay far below. There were supers waging war on god knows what down there, huh? Her brown oculars now swept over the deck, casting a shadow over the ground below. Part of the old Avengers headquarters, and only looking a little dusty. No one had landed there for a long time now. What few things Mom had told her about Ironman would be beyond her imagination, should she not have observed blueprints that gave her a clear picture of the suit's design. She'd skipped over most of the technical gibberish, although the arsenal sounded fun.
If only she'd had more time on those suckers. But her Mom didn't want her up there. Apparently the equipment was "Too dangerous" and "Unsuitable for a child." It was one of the few excuses she had to yell at her supportive, tolerant, all-around nice mother. She wasn't stupid, and it looked like there was plenty to toy around with on the first floor of their collection alone. It'd be really fun to play games on those touchy-turny projections. That was definitely gonna be her goal once Mom loosened up and let her go nuts. Maybe when she was 84 it'd be possible. Orrrr she could just sneak in now. Nah, this blanket was blimmin' comfy.