Eisenhardt Family Day

January 20, 2018:

The twins, Wanda and Pietro, visit Genosha for the first time. Revelations happen. Magneto emitted by Nate.

Carrion Cove, Genosha

Characters

NPCs: The robot Ferris

Mentions:

Mood Music: None.


Fade In…

The mysterious twins Pietro and Wanda were in Magneto's mind often a few days after Magneto's conversation with Lorna. But eventually they were pushed out of his head; he had to deal with more pressing concerns. Building his new headquarters/palace took several days. The search for Zealot. Dealing with the Hellfire Club. International issues. Security concerns.

Oh, but he is in a roll. Magneto has not felt so alive in years. Full of maniac energy. Victory within his grasp. Not a -final- victory, but a -very- important one. A mutant nation! The first of many!

So when Lorna told him the twins were coming the old mutant almost rolled his eyes. But he feigned interest and agreed to meet them in a neutral area.

Carrion Cove City Hall. Now.

The leaders of the city know Magneto could demand their surrender and annex the overpopulated town in a few hours. They have no army and their police force is overworked. But Magneto has been rather magnanimous with them. Claiming that since they were the only town in Genosha that refused to use slave labor they were to be respected.

The politically savvy realize Magneto needed a neutral port to allow the exodus of the fleeing humans as well as sustain semi-legal trade routes to African ports. So despite the massive problems caused by the refugees and the smugglers, Carrion Cove's future seems golden.

The city rulers are grateful, and willing to give Magneto access to their installations, no questions asked. A clandestine meeting with mutant leaders from other country. Seems a good excuse (probably illegal, but good).

Magneto will give Lorna a minute to greet her supposed siblings before joining them. As promised, none of the Acolytes is with him. Although he brought his pet robot, Ferris.


Lorna of course, didn't see Magneto's victories, not as such. Her mind's eye locked on the task of securing Genosha's borders. It became an almost obsessive drive, the same manic energy her father had, was her own, and it grew in fits and bursts of uncontrol anger at those around her when things didn't work out as she had planned, desired or wished.

Of course, that also meant she had to keep her word to Darcy. The human SHIELD agent had won the mutant's heart and trust over the months spent at her side. Darcy was one of Lorna's strongest supporters, and Lorna had made a promise to the woman. That she would try her best with Pietro. The tears that had sprung to Darcy's eyes a few nights ago pushed Lorna to the point that, despite her reservations about contact with her siblings (the last few times had not gone well) Lorna had done so. And she'd managed a civil conversation with Pietro, even convincing him to come visit.

It was a small thing, but Lorna took it to heart.

Granted, Pietro had said it was going to just be him. Wanda's arrival as well was, more than a little of a surprise. Still, the green haired woman greeted them, dressed in her green, metal-fused body-suit. Armor like in the important places, yet slashed up the arms with gossamer like fabric for relief against the Genoshan tropical climate. Lorna stood off to the side before the door, ready and waiting for the twins to arrive as promised.


Even someone of Pietro's vast speed takes a little while to cross the world. Especially when carrying Wanda with him. Especially when he staunchly refuses to use most forms of human transport or installations. His paranoia runs deep — but after the life he has lived, that is no surprise.

He had wanted to leave Wanda behind in safety — to watch his back, he insisted — and go to Genosha alone, but the moment he tried to tell her he was going to put her in a corner and go off to a warzone by himself, Wanda put a stop to that. Thus it is that when Lorna comes to meet them, it is to find both of them, fresh from a walk up onto the island's shores and into Carrion Cove.

The tropical climate is a shock, after the cold of New York and Europe, but Pietro seems as unruffled as always. He stays a step ahead of his sister as an obvious guard, his hastened perceptions taking in the chaos and bustle of the port.

"Lorna," is his sole greeting. Pietro doesn't do small talk. His eyes move between sister, and supposed sister. "…You've met before," he says, wryly.


The past month has been a relatively quiet one for the Maximoff twins: if "quiet" is even a word to describe their recent, violent activities. After the strike on Gotham's Christmas parade, all further mentions of them dwindled mysteriously from recent news reports — though activity in Mutant Town would give a different account.

The work of the Brotherhood, in the eyes of the twins, is a far more complicated machine than merely aggression and forceful strikes, and after living a life of relative deprivation, both Wanda and Pietro have the power to assist the lives of less-fortunate mutants. Though, however much they can do, it's still not enough — never enough. It is a drop in the pond for one Mutant borough in one city, never mind the rest of the world.

Exhaustion nips at the corners of Wanda's expression, bearing, and spirit as she joins her twin brother here, a tension to her eyes as she must adjust to the heat and humidity so quickly after that brutal New York cold. There's a weariness to her soul, and it makes her hand hold on a bit more tightly to Pietro's arm, her first looks on Genosha not the way others tend to do: people look out on their surroundings, but Wanda seems to look up and through, her witch's sight on the life, the energy, the imprint of this place. Finally, she draws the hood down of her shawl.

And then Lorna. While one half-sister wears green, the other wears red and black, like a little shadow at the paler Pietro's side. Wanda's eyes find the other woman, and though there's a steeliness about her, there's no fury: the witch tilts her head, pensive. "Yes," she answers, eyes still on Lorna. "I met her memories. Our half-sister."


Carrion Cove was a very nice fishing port and vacation resort before August 2017. Then came the coup, and then the civil war. And the town became flooded with refugees.

There are still fishing ships in the port, but mostly it is packed transports for the leaving humans. The wealthy Genoshan elites were the first to go, the common people, scared of the war and Magneto, do not have it so easy. Most families sell everything they have and spent most of it securing a passage to Europe or Australia. The poorer ones only can afford Kenya or Madagascar. Countries the Genoshans Magistrates raided for mutant slaves.

A few months ago these humans had flying cars, spacious homes, clean cities and guaranteed health services and education for their children. Now they live in tents and can barely eat once a day.

It is not a pretty, clean town anymore.

But the City Hall is still in good repair, and the room given to Lorna is large and comfortable, with views to the beach west of the port. Although said beach is covered with the tents of the refugees.

Magneto gives the three younger mutants a minute to meet and greet before stepping into the room through the furthest door, a purple and silver robot hovering a few feet behind him. Impressive in his purple and red armor, tall and strong, he seems to irradiate power and confidence. Very sure of himself, but only until he sees Wanda.

Lorna, who has been around Magneto for a few weeks now, has never seen him to look so surprised, or consternated. For a few seconds, he seems speechless. But he recovers quickly.

"Good morning, Lorna… Polaris… and you two, Quicksilver, Scarlet Witch," his voice loses some strength. Then he tenses. "Ferris, genetic analysis."

The robot responds instantly. "Verifying. Confirmed. 25% match with Polaris. 50% match with Magneto."

Magneto exhales. Beat. "Welcome to Genosha," he offers.


Lorna didn't like Wanda, not after the woman had combed through her mind for memories in such a painful, riotous way. It made her edgey, and being once more face to face with the woman in scarlet and black had Lorna drawing on the magnetic fields in a subtle way that Magneto would recognize as a comforting gesture. Like a child pulling a blanket over their shoulders and trying to hide.

Pietro was different, he was violent, but he had only pushed her into a wall. And even she could look at the white haired young man and find the family resembalances. The blue eyes, the structure of his jaw and the alike reminded her of their father. Wanda.. Her half sister was dark and different, and held herself in a way so foreign it made Lorna more cautious around her. Though their statures were similar enough, a curve of a cheek… it was all small things.

Speech was difficult to summon up as Wanda greeted her, and even more so as the door opened and her father, their, father spoke. The way he halted, the shock on his features. Then the registered command to Ferris and Lorna felt her insides clench. It was one thing to know from another world, but to have it confirmed in such a flat, robotic voice.. was, well, frankly jarring.

Lorna didn't have much to at all to say to that..


Pietro draws Wanda a little closer to his side as Magneto steps into the room. It's a gesture not dissimilar to the way Lorna draws on the magnetic fields… a self-comforting tic, as much as it is meant to comfort Wanda. That Magneto has chosen to show up in full armor certainly makes a statement. The twins, for all they have circulated in the Brotherhood for a while, have never seen Magneto in anything but pictures and distant images. There is a tension to Pietro's stance that suggests he is ready to run at any moment.

Then Magneto sees Wanda, and has an obvious reaction. It is swift, but Quicksilver's perceptions are swift as well.

The confirmation is jarring, especially delivered in such an emotionless and robotic voice. No one moves, or speaks, at first… not until Magneto finally offers his welcome.

"Thank you," Pietro answers, his head slowly tilting. His blue eyes narrow. "Father." His voice makes the word into a thing of incredulity and bitterness.

He stares at Magneto, a long time by his standards, transparently trying to wrap his head around the concept. Even more than an advanced robot, he trusts the intuition of his sister… thus it is not a matter of disbelief, but rather the matter of having to shift one's entire mindset in a day. He shoots a glance at Lorna, an uncertain look, before he seems to grow irritated with his own hesitation and shakes it off. His stance strengthens, his head lifting, a very familiar arrogant bearing falling onto his shoulders. Combined with his blue eyes, his white hair, it is like looking into a mirror.

"This explains some things," he says. "But not many others." There is an unspoken question that is not difficult to guess. Why did you never find us?


For her part, Wanda doesn't seem to share Lorna's dislike. Not in any sort of visible manner, at least. The anger and fury that drove the Witch to dig into her half-sister's mind seems to have long passed, cooled in the last month, and shifted into something far more watchful — almost curious, calculating. The glance of her eyes seems more like to want to weigh Lorna than anything else, curious of her for the value of their shared blood, but at the same time, guarded. Most importantly, this would be an opportunity for the Scarlet Witch to apologize for turning on her half-sister. She does not.

Her attention only breaks off Lorna when the father of all three arrive, and Pietro pulls his twin sister slightly closer. Her hand finds his closer elbow, squeezing, in that same way of given and sought-for comfort, the Maximoffs already revealing one thing about themselves: a committed, cloistered dependence on each other.

Wanda's gaze turns, and… for a moment, it's Magda Lehnsherr staring back at Magneto. A perfect, unchanged likeness of her face, her features, her form — like a mirror image of an old ghost. Only it's Magda looking on him with caution and reticence, the searching way of her eyes mixed with distrust.

She watches him through his surprise, and adds nothing to it — no derision, no comment — only the silence of a daughter seeing her supposed father for the first time.

Pietro gives her a glance, and Wanda knows immediately what it means — a sliver of red comes to her eyes, the Witch's senses reaching out to read, though something stops her. Like a wall around Magneto, impenetrable, locking her out. Disquiet moves through her mind.

It gets worse with the robot's declaration. As Pietro speaks first, Wanda remains silent, frowning at his side. When words come from her — Magda's voice too, identical — it's only to ask Magneto: "Did you know?" About us?


Explain some things. NO.

Magneto takes off his helmet and steps forward, to look at Pietro up close. It is like looking into a mirror. Taking away 20 years of age and 70 years of struggle from his own features.

Yes, he can believe Pietro is his son. It is not impossible. He has not been celibate -all- those years. Lorna is there.

But it is Wanda who is unexplainable. Because in her features he sees the face of his wife. A woman gone since the early 50s. Over 60 years. Wanda would be almost 70 if she was Magda's. But Genetic match was 50%. Wanda is not his granddaughter, or great granddaughter.

Clones. Possible. Time travel? It happened to the X-Men once or twice, or so is rumored.

"Know about…?" His eyes snap to Wanda, his face pained for a second. Then he recovers control. "No. And you can't possibly be who you seem to be. Not without the intervention, the manipulation from a third party." But Lorna's story, what she learned in that other world she visited, means there is a mystery here he now needs to solve.

"I was married, just after the end of the Second World War," he explains. "To a woman called Magda. We lived in Transia for a time, where she had family. Then moved to Ukrania to raise our daughter and form a family. This was long, long before I heard the world 'mutant'." He gestures to the seats around the meeting table in the room, inviting them to sit down. "Beings with special abilities had fought during the war, of course. I never saw any of them, but there were reports and stories. I had my own special abilities, but they seemed a small thing, which I barely controlled. They didn't define me."


Lorna glanced between Pietro and her father in a rapid glance of green eyes. Mirror images. It was strange to have them so close. How had no one made the connection before? It seemed so obvious when she beheld them together. The same distinct anger, the same posture and proud tilt of a chin. It was more now, now that she saw them in this world and was looking. In that other reality, she hadn't tried to see the connections. But they were there.

Wanda.. she wasn't sure what to make of Wanda and her father's story before, when she had pressed him, he had said he didn't know a woman by the last name she knew the twins bore. She slowly edged to sit down in a chair, keeping strongly to herself. What could she interject? She partially wanted to leave, to give them space. But at the same time, she desperately wanted to know. Needed to know.

The tale of his being married, that was new to her. She had no idea that she'd had another sibling at some point. Though, she supposed it made sense. Her father was a lot older than he looked. But the part of interference. That had her brows furrowing as the logical leaps and jumps continued to leave her short. Her immediate thought was that they had to come from another world, she'd seen other versions, why not? It would explain why Darcy's Pietro was so different, right? But she didn't dare share her thoughts.

This was Pietro and Wanda's time to question things, even if she very much wanted to press about this woman named Magda.. She watched Wanda and Pietro closely instead.


Pietro tenses up visibly as Magneto removes his helm and steps close. He leans back very slightly, as if he wants to back away, but refuses to display that kind of weakness in front of his apparent father.

The white hair is an obvious similar feature, the color of their eyes, but beyond that what is truly and more deeply similar is the fury written deeply into Pietro Maximoff's face. It is an old emotion, an anger that started in him since childhood, and which his life has only sharpened and stoked. That more than anything else is his inheritance from Magneto: anger, and arrogance, and that singleminded sense of rightness.

That anger lingers in his expression as their 'father' speaks. It is anger as Magneto held it, fifty years ago, young and untempered by experience.. It starts to mingle with confusion as he speaks of having been an adult at the close of the Second World War, which does not align at all with the man's apparent age. Still, stranger things have happened. Pietro has run into mutants who do not age.

They didn't define me, Magneto says of his powers. "They certainly seem to define you now," Pietro says shortly. He doesn't sit; Quicksilver rarely consents to any sort of stillness.

His hand moves to find Wanda's, fingers lacing for some kind of grounding. "I can't tell you anything. Only that we were raised in Transia. In a village, by Wundagore. Our mother… the one who raised us… was killed by humans who hated what we were. We ran. We survived. We suffered."

His gaze sweeps Genosha. A promised paradise, but still torn by war. "You were building empires. What happens when this one is done?"


Even Wanda cannot ignore the likeness, made apparent the moment Magneto removes that oppressive helm. Her twin brother's face, features, even familiar hair — replicated almost perfectly, and refined with age and hardened by the bitter decades of war. It staggers her, even enough to draw a half-step back, the rarity of this moment that the Witch does not even call her other senses forward. She just sees with her eyes the truth that no one in this room can ignore.

As Magneto steps closer, and Pietro tenses, Wanda draws closer to her brother, supportive, though she cannot take her eyes off her father.

As Magneto answers them both, and begins to weave together hints of his own story, she listens warily — but feels herself knotting up with her own confusion. Magneto seems to easily accept both Lorna and Pietro as his children, but Wanda is treated like some anomaly — 'she can't possibly be who she seems to be.'

Upset moves through a mind not all that stable, and Wanda shoots back, defensive, anger making her distant accent thicken her words, "What? I'm who I've always been. You look at us for seconds and make assertions?"

Pietro takes her hand. Wanda accepts it. Her eyes angle away, thinking the same things as her brother — the incredible passing of time since the Second World War — and she even flicks a glance over at Lorna, wanting to see if the surprise on her half-sister is true, and all this isn't some farce. But this is one way to know—

Remembering her Witch's sight, the red having never left her eyes, Wanda realizes: that barrier around Magneto she felt before is now mysteriously gone. She asks no permission or wastes a moment to try to reach in. Her power is not painful in the way she was when she reached into Lorna's mind — perhaps aware they're outnumbered in unfamiliar territory — but it can definitely be felt. Like a presence, reaching, searching, trying to find some search of their mother in his memories.


When Pietro speaks of losing his mother, Magneto's lips become a thin line. Then he replies. "They killed Anya. My daughter, she would have been your older sister," he sighs, "afterwards Magda left me. I killed several of the men involved in Anya's death, she was horrified," there is perhaps more in the story, but he is not giving details. "When I recovered from my injuries, I looked for her. But never found her. I believed her lost forever."

Then he looks at Wanda again. "But you are her daughter. I have no doubt." An inch or two taller, a little paler. Same face, same hair. Magneto feels Wanda reaching into his mind. He tenses for a second, his eyes flashing with light. His mind is not like anything Wanda has seen before. It is made of steel, with walls within walls, decades of trauma suppressed with iron discipline. Scars and rage.

Then he gives her Magda's face, just before pushing her out of his mind.

Pietro's question brings him back from the distant past, he grunts in assent. "Ah. When Genosha is stable, in a few years, I will move on. I will not stop until the whole world is safe for mutants." Which for him is synonymous with the mutants being in charge everywhere.


Lorna shared the twin's confusion, she didn't understand the how of any of it. Other than her father must have lied to her, again. When she had pestered him over the name Maximoff, and his possible relations he'd shaken her off. That hurt. But she'd more than had come to expect him to lie to her about most things. It was just difficult to parse when he was telling the truth or not. Perhaps he'd dismissed it as an impossibility, given his tale, if this was the truth then,

well..

Then she was the 'third franchise' after all, as Piettro had put it. She'd had another sibling, and that sister had died. That was news as well to her. Magneto hadn't shared that. Hadn't told her about another lost sister. It filled in a few gaps, colored another shade into the complicated mess that made up the man that was her father..

Green eyes flickered toward Wanda and Pietro again, her brows furrowing as Pietro spoke of how the twin's mother had died. It certainly wasn't what he had told her the other night. Interesting. Like father like son, it would seem.

Still, her focus shifted toward Wanda at the glint of red in the woman's eyes and she rose from her seat, uncomfortable and all at once remembering the pain that had lashed her mind… And then it was over and Magneto continued onwards with his conversation. This, the talk of Magneto's ideals were hardly new to her. She had told Pietro as much about Magneto's intentions.


Wanda draws closer, and Pietro lets go of her hand in favor of snaking an arm around her waist. He can feel her upset at being the anomaly, the child not immediately readily accepted, and for half a moment his anger breaks enough so he can kiss the top of her head. A small soothe.

It passes. He listens in impassive silence to Magneto's words. About yet another sister — his first daughter — who was lost, and whose loss no doubt catalyzed decades of his rage against humankind. It means little to Pietro. His sister is by his side. "She may have fled home," is all he says, of Magda Eisenhardt. Magda Lehnsherr. A woman married to the first of Magneto's many faces. "Strange things happen on Wundagore. They always said the mountain was cursed. Our mother… we always saw her as our mother, she raised us, but…" It seems painful for him to admit this, "the resemblance was not there."

His gaze flickers to the side, towards Lorna. He catches the confusion that furrows her brow as he speaks. The way she rises, alarmed, as Wanda burrows into their father's head. He shakes his head at her, just a little. He told Magneto their mother was killed by humans. It is the truth, and not the truth. Their adoptive mother was lost in hexfire, Wanda's hexfire… but there would have been no hexfire, if not for humans. Pietro put it this way, here, simply to fuel the narrative against humanity's predations. Like father, like son, indeed.

Calm can never last long with Pietro, however, and Magneto's answer is enough to catalyze all his son's impatience and disbelief. Lorna had told him, but part of him needed to hear his father say it aloud. "In a few years?" The idea of that kind of span of time leaves Pietro looking aghast. For someone who suffers seconds as if they were hours, years are unthinkable. "Legislation is passing now. X-Gene testing. A mandatory registry. The humans are letting our people die in the cold. We can't stay here. We will go back. Someone needs to show them they can't just do this — "

Unconsciously, his stance has set in a hard line, leaned forward slightly, anger rendering all his body language aggressive.


Instinctively, reflexively, Wanda finds shelter in Pietro, and her upset calms under his doting. It is one piece of their mysterious narrative, but one that makes sense: their father absent, their would-be mother dead, there is nothing left for an abandoned brother and sister but to cling even more tightly to each other, and become the other's entire family.

It centers Wanda even so much as to get bold and try to pry into their father's mind: the hexlight colours her eyes that familiar, ephemeral scarlet like her namesake, familiar enough that even Lorna reacts. Pietro sees to gesturing to her, and though she turns her half-sister half a glance, Wanda doesn't renege her focus.

She's used to minds offering themselves freely for her taking. She's used to little barriers or inhibition when it comes to this, and freely, forcefully invites herself where she goes… at least, until now. Magneto's mind is something else, so different it makes her head tilt and her red eyes flicker, confronted with /steel/ where minds before have been softer, far more malleable. She reaches but cannot seem to dig up anything concrete: only a surface sensation of feeling, the narrative of an old man who has spent so much of his long life to anger and vengeance —

He offers her one thing, her mother's face, before shutting her out. Wanda's eyes widen, and her skin pales with shock, both at that surprising exercise of power, and to see her /own/ face, looking at her — identical but not Wanda. Her mother. Their mother.

Head turned, her red eyes gaze up at Pietro, desperately, mentally transmitting this knowledge to him.

She is quiet as he speaks, it becoming evident as the moments go that Pietro is the far more dominant twin of the two, quick-tongued and aggressive, with Wanda a watchful shadow at his side. She thinks of many things as Pietro speaks: a dead sister named Anya, the mother of her memory, the different mother who looks like her, Genosha, New York City, mutant legislation: so much at once.

"We've made America our home," she adds, her voice strained, sounding far more thin now than before. "Our kind suffers there. We can't abandon them."


Magneto hrms at Pietro's anger. Not in disapproval. "And America is a good place for mutants compared with China or the former soviet countries. No, I am not blind, Quicksilver. I am also unable to save everyone. I have to pick my battles. Genosha will provide sanctuary to millions of mutants. Mutants that will life in safety, receive a good education and learn to use their abilities to their full potential. It is a necessity and a project worthy of my full attention."

He looks at Wanda, too. What can he tell them? They are adults, not children. They -might- be a trick of one of his enemies to destroy him. They might also be his children, and Magda's children, somehow 30 years too young.

"And yes, mutants everywhere need champions and defenders. And to provide them is the Brotherhood's task," which despite suspicious from pretty much everyone, he doesn't control anymore. It has grown and mutated way beyond the small cell network it was thirty years ago. Just as Magneto wanted when he left. No single leader, no single point of failure.

"Anti-mutant legislation has been on the table of American politicians for ten years," he adds. "The alien raid in September of 2015 distracted the public briefly, made them aware of dangers they preferred ignore before. But ultimately it was a temporary distraction. Normality has been restored now, and our people who was still harassed, discriminated against, and abused, might find their civil rights restricted or eradicated even in 'freedom-loving' America. You are welcomed to stay here for as long as you desire. Yet if you have responsibilities in America, then you should return and fulfill your duties."

As for Lorna. Since she knew Pietro's version in the Age of Apocalypse she might realize that Pietro did look his age, as in Nate's world it was still the year 2000. That 'other Pietro' was born before 1960. This Pietro is 30, 35 years too young. There is a mystery here.


Lorna still couldn't make up her mind on what had happened, or must have happened, for the twins to exist and fall into place with Magneto's story. She shoved it back though to the edge of her mind for another time at Pietro's look when she rose. The way the twins sought each other for comfort, shared their experiences and all the hardships it brought.. Made Lorna feel suddenly very, very, alone.

She had her chosen family, the X-men, and Marcos.. but it wasn't the same. To have someone so completely and utterly there, to have shared every life experience… Lorna almost felt like she was on the outside of a glass, looking at the images before her and unable to touch them. It was disorientating and left her stunned into silence for the time it took Pietro, Wanda and Magneto to have their conversation about the plight of mutants in America and else where.

Her jaw squared and she stepped forward, insinutating herself back into the conversation. Her arms falling to her side. "Because you know, attacking PTA moms and a bunch of rich and powerful people at a party are an effective means of fighting for mutant rights." Her voice was clipped, dry.

"The newest registration string was likely to come regardless, but you both certrainly helped stir the pot once more towards more public outcry. You know there were mutants at the gala, right?" She arched a brow. "If you want to effect change, then you'd better start with some better targets. I would suggest trying to find the assholes that fled this country and are going to start looking to set up shop again." She muttered, her lips twisting.

"America was my home, and I grew up there. It's not going to change because of a handful of what people dubb 'terrorist' attacks." She looked at her father, arching a green eyebrow upwards. "Or are you going to tell me that what you did thirty some odd years ago helped change America's perception on mutants?"


Pietro leans back slightly at Magneto's response. His anger momentarily quells, especially when Wanda shares with him the imagery she found. The face of a mother who looks so much like his sister transparently throws him, his eyes narrowing with incomprehension, lack of understanding, confusion. The timeline does not match up. Not under normal circumstances Yet considering all the other strange things that have happened, is it beyond possibility there are circumstances beyond normal?

Though it disturbs Pietro, his attitude towards it all is one of vague resignation. Their blood and genetics do not lie — the hows and whys are beyond him. There are too many possibilities. He focuses instead on the present, the now. The registration that was on hold, but now is suffering a resurgence. It was inevitable.

Magneto's remarks are measured. If anything, it's Lorna's comments that annoy Pietro. His silver head swings around, blue eyes sparking with lost temper.

"What are YOU doing?" Pietro snaps at her. "You want to do nothing because you think it won't change? You think we shouldn't be there defending our people, on the ground, when they are being actively targeted? Showing them there's some option than just sitting and taking it? The scale of the targets means nothing. Big or small. It's the message sent. To the poor mutants who have no means to come here, maybe it's small things that matter most. You can sit here in Genosha if you want, Lorna, and set up a country. Go ahead and do that. But we need to show our people they don't need to be afraid of humans. That someone will hit back wherever there is any kind of bigotry or hate."

Oddly, he looks to Magneto. There is resentment there, but there is also a vague look of apprehension and waiting. A son who cannot decide whether to hate this apparent father, or hope for his approval. "Isn't that part of it all?" he says.


Neither does Wanda seem to know what to think about Magneto, her own mind a storm of half-formed feelings — no time in a surprise to even fully search her heart. It hurts too much to try to reconcile the faces of two mothers: one that looks like her own, offered from her father's memory, and another who only exists in her own — hers and Pietro's — the woman who burned to death to protect her children whose blood was not even her own.

She shares Pietro's confusion. Never before have they had reason to question anything about themselves. Now it feels like her entire memory is a stage of falsities.

If anything, it's Lorna that finally offers some sort of reprieve: a convenient distraction from her own disquiet. Those words lash free from their half-sister, and the effect on Wanda is immediate and visible. Pietro's reaction is fire, but Wanda's is ice, and she chills over, her guard back up like a silent reminder, after too much vulnerability, that they still are in audience with strangers and potential enemies. She draws close to her twin's side, a hand on his back, though the gesture is hardly to allay his temper. It's to support it.

The Witch's eyes burn red. "Watch your mouth," she snaps at Lorna, her words soft but threaded with threat. What more does one need from a family reunion, than the children to begin fighting?

She says little more, Pietro speaking for them both, except to add after him —

"We are well aware mutants were there." Her eyes narrow unreadably. "There are reasons for all things. Weeds to pluck on both sides. We've only begun."


30 years ago mutants were something talked about only in some pioneering investigative papers published by people like Charles Xavier. Awareness was near zero. "I brought the mutants into the light," replies Magneto. "I forced the human governments to acknowledge we existed. I told all the mutants in the world that they were not alone. I hit their secret projects, their dirty experiments, their Weapon Xs, Red Rooms and super-soldier programs where our people was being dissected, experimented and brainwashed. If it had not been for the X-Men…" who knows? Maybe the world would be ruled by Magneto. Or maybe a racial war would have ended with nuclear Armageddon. It might also be Superman or the Sentry would have stepped in and stopped him anyway.

"In any case, you are both correct. Lorna priorities have changed now she has to think in her child. Your public actions in America could have been better planned, but I can't say they weren't warranted. And those mutants that want to emigrate to Genosha will be helped. I will devote part of Genosha resources to ensure they can come here regardless of their economic situation."


Lorna's features reddend with anger, and her teeth ground together. Anger ran in the family, as did hot-headedness, it would seem. "Screw you Pietro. What have I been doing? I lived in Mutant Town, I saw what happened there and I tried to do what I could. But systemic hatred and bigots aren't going to stop being what they are because you attack a few people that aren't even directly related to it. You want to encourage mutants to rise up, then fight someone that needs taking down. I'm building a country where our kind can be safe and accepted."

She snapped, her anger turning on Wanda and as the woman told her to watch her mouth, her hands curled at her sides and doubtlessly, Magneto could feel his youngest gearing up for a fight through the magnetic fields as soon as scarlet flitted through Wanda's eyes. If there was ever any question whose kids the three of them were, it could easily have been seen and proven in how fast the room broke out into arguments between them.

Which, at least, on Lorna's part relented when Magento stepped in. She loosened her grip on the magnetic fields, stepping back and crossing her arms protectively over her middle as he mentioned the baby. Her jaw squared and she exhaled a heaving breath of a sigh. Simmering in disagreement, but at least giving up the greater edge to her anger. What else was to say? Her priorities had changed, vastly.

She looked vaguely uncomfortable and shuffled her feet slightly, rocking her weight back and pushing her hair from her face.

"…For the most part I think that what you two are doing in Mutant Town is a good thing.." She muttered softly. There were freezing families there. Things had to be done to save lives and from what Pietro had mentioned the night before she took it to meant he'd actually help. Which was something.


At the least, it looks like Pietro is REALLY used to being told to screw himself — one guess why — because he doesn't even blink at that. His head lifts, a sneer crossing his features, and for a moment he looks exactly the arrogant, infuriating older brother, convinced completely of his own rightness. "They won't stop," he says. "But they can be punished. We hit politicians trying to write these laws. Tell me how that's not related."

Fortunately the intercession of Magneto is enough to quell any impending sibling fights. Pietro grits his jaw, but subsides, his stance deflating a little from that hotheadedness into mere resentment. Talk that mutants will be helped to come to Genosha, at least, seems to mollify what angers him about the place. "Lorna said you could have this place under control in two months," he says, his eyes angling toward Magneto. "There is no harm in a place mutants can go where they are dominant. But hopefully no one targets it once all the mutants are in one place."

As for Lorna's changed priorities and the reason for that? Pietro pauses visibly, his brows shooting upwards. He looks at Lorna, taking in her age, and then he glances towards Wanda. A flicker of scarlet light reflects over the blue of his eyes, the twins no doubt sharing some private mental communication. "I see," is all he says aloud.

The topic drops. Especially when Lorna moves on to say she thinks what they are doing in Mutant Town is good. "Well, thank you for your approval," he says, sarcastic as ever, though much of the anger has gone out of his voice. "We intend to continue. Those people need care."

He hesitates. His gaze turns to Magneto. "I do not know how long we will stay," he says truthfully. "Our priorities are there."


If the inherited anger seems to have skipped someone, it's Wanda, who has none of her twin brother's temper or trigger-quick ignition. She stands cold as he runs hot, though there is no denying in the alleys of her features — in Magda's features — that the family passion runs strong in her blood. Determination, scars from pains, and zealotry.

Though the Witch says no more, perhaps knowing her own reasons won't be listened to at Lorna — perhaps not deeming the half-sister worthy to know the whys of what they do — but she looks on her silently, appraisingly, her head tilting one way as her eyelids half-hood her red eyes. One sister closes her fists as if to gear up for a fight, and the other merely looks on with a machine sort of patience, her gaze not inciting or testing so much as it is waiting. Waiting to see if she will.

But she does not — and the father's words impose between his children on both sides of an old, old argument.

Magneto does offer things: first an explanation for Lorna's reasoning, something that earns the half-sister again a flicker-quick glance of Wanda's eyes. She says nothing for or about it, curiosity passing into disinterest, and ending with the glance she shares with Pietro. Nothing like your twin half-siblings no doubt having their mental conversations behind a sibling's back.

But second comes Magneto's offer of sanctuary and funding for mutant migrants in New York. Wanda's expression shifts, of two minds: after her and Pietro's life of forced fleeing and hiding and wandering, she hates the idea of suggesting it for anyone else, but at the same time, it's better than nothing. "If what you mean is true," she says to her father, still not fully trustful of all this, "we will relay your offer forward."

The Witch exhales, in clear agreement with Pietro. Of course. "There once was a time we needed safety. We wanted it more than anything. But that time has long passed for both of us."


"Stay as long as you can, please," requests Magneto. "I want to know more about your childhood. You are here now, looking like you… should have been thirty years ago. Longer."

Mount Wundagore as an explanation is weak. Of course he heard a hundred tales about the cursed mountain when he lived with the Romani.

The only ones he believed where the ones about the uranium mines the Nazis dug there during the war, where hundreds of men of 'inferior races' died of exhaustion and hunger, forced to work as slaves.

But if Wanda and Pietro are alive and young, maybe Magda is still alive. That idea fills him with some disquiet at a time he can't afford anything but absolute focus.

Family comes second to his crusade. It has to - But sometimes his resolve is sorely tested!


Pietro's arrogance had Lorna's anger simmer, but it was more or less doused at this point in time. Her mind elsewhere as Pietro brought up how Genosha may or may not be uncontrol in the next two months. Her hands uncurled from around her front and shoved into the pockets at her hips instead. Her weight shifted and she had to stifle the urge to roll her eyes.

But she bit her lip and kept from spouting off again. It wasn't worth it. She'd had the same arguments with her father before.

The silent conversation between the twins was unnerving to her, and whatever passed between them earned a slight purse of her lips as she glanced back to her father instead. There was a softness in his words, in his askance that Lorna hadn't heard from him. Perhaps it was his confusion, or amazement that the twins were in fact blood relations. She didn't know.

A shift and she glanced toward Pietro, "People will need help getting out of bad situations when those registration laws pass. Maybe with the Brotherhood's connections a network could be set up to get mutants that would otherwise end up in jail here." She grimaced, "Just a thought with your powers…" She shrugged and stood awkwardly, looking between the two half-siblings. Awkward.


Pietro glances down at Wanda, his attention drawn by some internal shift of his sister's mood. He knows well her feelings on these matters, and his hand moves again to take hers, fingers lacing together. It is clear the twins' hard life has left them heavily dependent on one another… like a little self-contained island, wherein the two are self-sufficient. Needing nothing else.

Yet here they are, among potential other members of a family. Something which Pietro is visibly still struggling to process. So far he appears to be handling the emotion by… avoiding it and focusing on work, which might again feel a little bit familiar…

Their father requests them to stay as long as they please, and primarily because he wishes to know about their childhood. Pietro's hand tightens on Wanda's, his expression closing. Whatever did happen to them, it was not pleasant. "It was hard," he says, and that is all he seems ready to say right at this moment.

Lorna's comment, this time, is welcome as a change in topic. Pietro seizes on it, relieved to be off the matter of his and Wanda's past. "We could coordinate on that if and when the time comes. For now…" he says, and it is plain he means everything, all this, this entire conversation of odd revelations, "this is enough." He seems to have inherited that peremptory nature from his father, also.


Hand taken, the only yield to Wanda's expression is in the moment she looks up at Pietro, both mentally and spiritually keyed to every movement or thought he seems to make, like the Gemini twins sharing one soul, one same life force. The fact that their close, co-dependent little world may have additions waiting on the wings — an entire bloodline when they believed all their family long dead — weighs heavily, painfully on old habits.

So when asked by their father to know more of their childhood, Wanda visibly withdraws. Her eyes, though bright with unasked questions — and she has many about their blood mother — avert and tighten a little with unspoken tension, and as Pietro closes down, the twin sister follows suit. It's a lot. They are strangers. This is a strange land with no familiarity of home. And the story of their past is something they've told no one — not even a stranger barely met. A stranger with their blood.

Silent, Wanda lets Pietro's answer speak for both of them. Her hand tightens back on his. She, too, mollifies at least at conversation about work — about anything but them, and assents Pietro's words with a quiet, reserved nod of her head.


Wrong question, it seems. Asked to strangers he met not an hour ago. But who are his children, stolen from him when he was a young, clueless, and believed himself human. Today's revelations have shaken Magneto more than he would admit to anyone.

Old wounds are opened. Memories best buried. But never forgotten. Magneto never forgets.

Finding Magda's fate can wait. As it has waited sixty years. The mystery that is the Maximoff twins can also wait. It is not the time to return to Transia. Or to leave Genosha at all. "Very well," he acknowledges with a small nod. The helmet is retrieved and placed upon his head again.

"I have much to do and I can't stay here any longer. But I leave you in Polaris' hands. Should you want to come to hammer Bay, safe accommodations will be provided. And I will be there at dusk. Perhaps we can talk again." He looks at both young mutants for a few seconds. "Otherwise, perhaps I will be able to visit New York later this year."


The fact that Pietro latched onto the conversation hook that Lorna offered was a demonstration on who in the family was just as awkwardly handling this whole mess and felt the need to fill the silence.

She too hated speaking of emotional things. Another family trait perhaps. The fact that all of them, standing in a room were having a difficult time processing anything even close to an emotionally healthy way. Perhaps it was the shock of it. The hardened aspects that each carried in their own ways. "Yeah…" She offered weakly to Pietro's words.

Of course then Magneto was talking about leaving her in charge of showing them accommodations and she felt a panicked sound escape her throat. Never mind the comment on her father claiming to go to New York. Bad idea. Bad, bad, bad. Nope. Full stop. After the conversation with Scott, Lorna did not want to see her father leaving Genosha anytime soon.

Bad enough that she knew the twins would once more leave sooner rather than later.

She coughed, trying to cover up her panic as she glanced to her father's departing figure. "Maybe we can have dinner?" She ventured and glanced back to Pietro and Wanda. Her throat constricting painfully.

"Uhm.. You two want to spend the night?"


Wrong question… but really, is it surprising that it was the one that was asked? If all is true, these were children stolen from Magneto decades ago. How have they passed all this time? Where have they been? Who kept them, before they turned up on the doorstep of the Maximoffs twenty-six years ago?

From the weary look in Pietro's eyes, he has no idea either. And weariness does not sit well on a young man built to run.

He does not look unhappy that Magneto is taking his leave, though there is a wistful look that comes and goes in his eyes. Wanda remains closed down, but there is something about Pietro that is curious. Yet his first loyalties remain to his sister, and it is by her side he stays.

He seems alarmed when Magneto speaks of coming to New York, however — a reaction shared by his half-sister, though for very different reasons. He exchanges a look with Lorna. The discomfort is mutual. He -could- screw around with her a little, ramp up the awkwardness, just to troll, but — "…It's fine," he demurs. It'd be awkward for him and Wanda, too. "We can figure it out. We're used to doing that."


Without the easy buffers of shock or anger, all that is left for Wanda is… this.

This denouement. This silence. This unease that goes against all she believed of Pietro and herself — and her mother? What of her mother? If not the woman whose same face she inherited, but the who died protecting the Maximoffs? Did she know something and never tell her children? Did Wanda's hexfire accidentally murder someone totally innocent: someone who should be alive, if not for twin mutants in her life? She starved to provide for them. She worked so hard.

Wanda closes down, her hand tight on Pietro's, her eyes — no longer red — now full of memory. It is all she can do to keep up the walls not to let others see her this way, or worse, and her mind runs in irrational circles, wanting to make sense.

The ensuing awkwardness makes her the opposite of wanting to fill it with small-talk or words; instead, Wanda wants more silence, and a safe place to withdraw. She doesn't know how to feel about possibilities like Magneto in New York — his presence ought to affect wide ramifications, positive and negative to the twins' cause — but she still cannot quite say no to it all. She just looks after him silently as he leaves, a little lost, before her eyes turn away.

Lorna lingers, however, to offer the family some sort of way to keep bonding — and Wanda slants her half-sister a glance, not derisively, but a little surprised and pained by that good will. She looks up at Pietro silently.

He answers for both of them. Wanda turns her head, her profile half-disguised by the fall of her dark hair. "We need time."


Lorna grumbled at her father's departing figure, and glanced back to Pietro and Wanda, her brows pinched as considered the twins. Her chest tightened, emotion heavy in her expression and she absent mindedly reached a hand to brush over the flat of her stomach. It was becoming an increasingly common gesture for the green haired mutant. As if she cound find comfort in the fact that she wasn't half as alone as she felt.

It helped of course that she could sense the tiny ball of nerves and eletrical impulses. Or powers. Could be powers. Lorna wasn't sure and she'd be damned if she let someone poke her to find out.

Pietro's words had her clearing her throat, her eyebrows shooting upwards. "Uhm.." She fumbled for words, looking back to Wanda as the woman spoke. A slow nod followed. "..At least.. at least let me show you where you can stay if you want to come back. If.. things get too heated in New York.." She paused, "You've got a safe place here. No one will come drag you away. Promise. They've haven't come for him yet, and he's pretty high on most people's watch lists." She joked, jabbing a thumb in the direction their father. Woo, boy, that was an awkward thought. Their father had left. Seemed a pretty common thing, to see his back.

Green eyes scanned over them, her brows furrowed and she hesitated. ".. I know it's a lot.. to process. I've been doing it for three years. And this is the most time I've spent near him. I know we disagree over some pretty important things.. But.. family means something to me. I put don't put it second." She swallowed a lump in her throat and glanced off to the side. Awkwardly shuffling her feet.

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