Maybe Relations

November 10, 2017:

Lorna finds Pietro in Mutant Town and she attempts to get straight to the point: maybe they're related.

Mutant Town


NPCs: None.

Mentions: magneto


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

If one needs to find a mutant, especially one liable to currently be in hiding, as good a place as any to search is in Mutant Town. Pinning down someone like Pietro Maximoff is a daunting task any day of the week, because he can be literally anywhere within minutes… but he's got to stop at some point. Right?

His face, if not his name or identity, has been run on the news by now after the incident at the charity, but he's not hiding it here. He has no reason to be concerned among his own people. He's speaking to a knot of them in the street right now, in fact, his voice too low to be overheard. His listeners are obvious mutants, the kind who cannot live in society for their mutations, many sporting scales or spines or claws.

He seems to be alone, for the time being, but that's always a toss-up where the twins are concerned. He's younger than the one she met in the other world, but his features are harsher, his eyes narrow and sharp.


Lorna was on the hunt for her would be siblings. The X-men were hunting for them, as was almost every cop, and Avenger in the city. But Lorna had an advantage of living in Mutant Town, and of being a detective there in. She knew who she was looking for, knew the powers of her maybe siblings.. The green haired mutant had little trouble keeping her eyes and ears out on the streets.

So when Pietro was out and about, speaking for Mutants else where.. She made a beeline for the crowd listening. Her green eyes narrowed in thought. A hand was thrown out and she pushed on the crowd's general metal pieces—belts, shoes, zippers, and made a path.

"I hate to interrupt, but we need to have a chat." She called, hand still out stretched.


The mutants clustered around Pietro startle as all the metal on their person suddenly jumps, tugging them bodily out of the way to clear a path for Lorna. Parting like the Red Sea before her, they reveal the wary and tense form of her supposed half-brother, standing alert with his back to a wall.

It is a clever move, for someone like him. With his immense speed, he isn't hampered by a wall at his back, and it means he can't be easily jumped from behind.

The crowd starts to disperse — especially after a look from Pietro — not really wanting to be part of whatever this is going to be. Lorna leads with 'we need to have a chat,' and Pietro's blue eyes narrow.

"Yeah? And who are you?" His stance coils, Quicksilver ready at any moment to disappear.


Lorna shifted her weight upon her feet, green eyes narrowed. "Polaris." She gritted out. Fingers spread in a sharp, biting motion before she dropped her hands to her sides. Her green eyebrows furrowed deeply as she stepped up, her head tilted back as she considered the Speedster.

"And I don't think you want to have a chat in public with me. It's a bit personal. So how about you and I get off the street and have a nice chat." She stepped back, her hands held loosely at her sides. She made no threatening moves. In fact, she looked downright passive in body language and utterly at ease.


Polaris. If the name registers with Pietro, nothing of it shows on his face. His features are guarded, taut, his blue eyes scanning the street as she speaks. It's personal, she says. So she wants a chat in private —

Of a sudden, so swiftly the air rips, the other mutant vanishes. There's a whipping of wind about Lorna, down the street, up the buildings, along the roofs, to suggest he is checking the area at high speed. Pietro, looking for traps, for hidden Avengers, for riot squads of SHIELD members bunkered down in readiness to take him in.

He finds nothing. Within five seconds, he's standing in front of her again, in the exact same spot, as if he never left.

"You have ten minutes," he allows, in the event she has come to him for some reason related to the mutant cause.


Lorna waits, she blinks and is unsure exactly what Pietro is doing, though she knew he was fast—conceptualizing how fast was still an effort in her mind. Still, he finds nothing, no one waiting in the wings to capture him or anyone else. It was just the lone, green haired magnokinetic. Lorna inclined her head as he said she had ten minutes and she stepped back, leading him to an alleyway near by.

She waited to see if he would follow and she nodded in his direction. "Do you know who your father is?" She cut right to the point. No use in beating about the bush when she had ten minutes— which she realized was very, very liberal in time usage by the speedster.


He follows, though he follows with the wary lightness of a cheetah perpetually on the verge of bolting. Each step goes down as if he could turn and bolt on it at any moment. The Pietro she met before… age must have mellowed him, just slightly, that or the bleak circumstances of this world.

This one is a live wire, currenting with endless energy, and beneath the surface: that constant fury. It's an unnerving thing to have at one's back.

Especially at his reaction to her blunt question. "You weren't kidding about getting fuckin' personal," Pietro laughs, half-incredulous, half snarling. "No, don't know, don't care, not relevant. Never knew him. Never mattered."

His stare cuts into her. "What would you know?"


Lorna's lips twitched in a cruel mockery of a smirk. To have that confirmation. To know that she wasn't the only one abandoned from birth by their father. Maybe father. The parentage that she might share with the speedster seemed a cruel joke and she seemed particularly pleased to know that she was the one delivering such news. Perhaps it was the karmic payback for what the alternative Pietro had done to her alternative self. Perhaps it was the confirmation that she was no longer the sole child to be abandoned by a terrible father.

Either way, a terrible smirk pulled at her lips and with a slow shift of her backpack Lorna pulled out a few select pieces of paper.

"I didn't think so. But, let's just say I have reason to believe we're related. That you're my half brother." She held out the papers toward Pietroa paternity test that confirmed one Erik Lehnsherr as the father of one Lorna Dane.

"My father is Magneto. And I believe he is your father too."


Blue eyes slant sidelong at Lorna at the terrible expression — part affirmation, part deep bitterness, part cruel karmic joy — that flickers across her face. He doesn't miss a millisecond of it, but he has no context — cannot parse why she would look such a way.

Not until she hands him the documents, and says what she says.

Pietro looks at the papers as Lorna hands them to him. His expression is completely blank as he scans the words — of course, it only takes him a fraction of a second to read and process the whole thing.

He is silent for a full five seconds. For someone like Pietro Maximoff, it's an eternity.

Then he turns on her, with his crushing speed, though for the time being he does nothing but try to seize her by the shoulders and shove her back against the alley wall. If nothing else, he's got Magneto's temper. "This is bullshit," he snarls. "Him? That — " With a sudden movement, he wrenches back and away from her. The anger floods away, replaced by contempt. "These could be forgeries."


Lorna let him have his rage, let him have his temper. It was her temper just as much as their father's. Just as much as it was his. A family trait. To be unbalanced by rage and emotions. She slammed back into the alley's brick walls as he pushed her back. She remained stiff, firm and unrelenting. Then, as he pushed away from her in discontent, in confusion and his engaged emotions.. She lifted a hand.

From the alley way around them came the twisted sound of metal. The dumpster twisted and rose into the air, a dance of iron in the sky as its form changed under her direction.

"I share his powers. And he himself spoke to me of this years ago. I only heard of you and Wanda recently, and learned that we might be related. I'm not asking anything from you. But I thought you deserve to know. You're not the only one he abandoned."


Swiftly reassuming some semblance of control over himself, Pietro backs away from Lorna. He's still holding the papers, though more because it seems he's forgotten them than because of any true desire to cling onto them. His gaze follows her hand as it moves, and then tracks to the result of the gesture.

She shares his powers, she says, even as she demonstrates them. The movement of the metal reflects in his blue eyes.

He remains silent, however. Silent up until she says that he isn't the only one who was abandoned.

That temper flares again in his blue eyes. He doesn't move on her this time, but the defiance that flashes in his eyes at the idea of being abandoned speaks volumes. "I wasn't crying for lack of anything in my life," he says. "We made it on our own."

He finally looks at the papers in his hand, remembering them, and with a convulsive movement he lets them go to scatter on the street. "There's one way to find out the truth of this," he says, with awful portent, before he turns and blurs away in a burst of winding silver light.


He was gone before Lorna had much time to react. But react she did to his spoke words. "I know where he is.. I share his blood. If you ever want to test it.. I am here." She spoke, even while he vanished from sight. She didn't seem concerned. She had shared her piece. And while she was convinced of the truthfulness of it, she realized that others might not be so inclined.

Green eyes flickered down to the copies of the papers in the alleyway and she bent to collect them.

It was dangerous to leave such evidence behind, even on pieces of grimy photocopies. To admit she was related to Magneto. A man that had killed thousands and had gotten away with it.

A man that had just taken up residence in Genosha..

Green eyes scanned the horizon and she shrugged, tucking the papers into her backpack.

"I wish I'd had family to share this with…" She breathed, her eyes slipping shut. Polaris had been alone from the start in the revelation about her parentage. Alone, had struggled with the news. Alone had bore the weight of being Magneto's heir.

So it was with a heavy burden that she shared what she had known with Pietro in hopes of sharing the weight. Perhaps, it too, had been a pipe dream.

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