Not My Bag

January 26, 2018:

Immediately following "Carl's Reasonably Priced Shoestore" - Lorna, Scott, Rogue and Betsy have an exchange in the MedLab


NPCs: None.

Mentions: Quicksilver, Magneto, Beast, Magik, Eclipse


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Lorna was on a rather comfortable hospital bed, covered in blankets and various pillows propping her up. She wore a loose fitting T-shirt, likely from Rogue's closet again, and a pair of sweat pants. The green haired woman had gone through the motions, letting Nurse Annie prick and prod at her, running the usual health checks and then some.

But there wasn't so much as a hint of uncontrolled power. Not even a blip of magnetic force that Lorna didn't direct herself. She was tired, exhausted, sure.. but it wasn't half so draining as the other times she'd suffered a loss of control (which usually went in line with extreme emotions and physical distress).

Still, she sipped on a juice box, rolling her eyes as the woman took a blood sample from her arm and pressed a bandage over it. "I said, I'm fine. The baby is fine. I can feel it. It's still there."


Rogue is seated beside Lorna, having gone up to her room to get Lorna a t-shirt and bring it down. It was a t-shirt given to her by some guy at a concert. One of the band members who tossed it to her after she and him had a few words backstage. At least she washed it before giving it to Lorna too!

"So…" Rogue said, her eyes going to the green haired mutant. "What happened back there, Lorna lady? We were about to get some hot info on that evil church and ya know… shut their creepy asses down." Rogue glanced over at Nurse Annie, gave her a weird look like she'd never seen her before and then put her eyes back onto her metal manipulating friend.


Scott is in the med lab with them now at least. He made it back from Scarsdale just under ten minutes ago. Dressed still in jeans, brown 'grandpa' shoes and a snug, snug torso hugging black tee shirt that reads 'What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Except Bears. Bears will kill you.'

One row of knuckles tucked under his opposing bicep, the other wrapping a hand over a forearm, he is staring, silent, stony and serious towards Lorna. This shiny reflective red glasses not giving any visibility of his eyes beyond.
"Appreciate it, Annie." Scott says to the nurse, Rogue's asked the good questions. He'll wait. They have time.


Lorna sipped at the juice box, wilting faintly under Scott's gaze as she squared her jaw and looked away from him. Her green eyed gaze settling on Rogue and she shrugged. "I dunno. One moment I was angry about the fliers. I wanted to rip them down.. Then something … felt wrong." Her brows furrowed and she paused, her lips pursing together as she finished off the apple juice and crushed the box in her grip.

She had felt a flutter in her, the movement of electro-magnetic current that she knew had to be the baby. She'd felt it on and off for the past week. Pietro had surprised her in Genosha, and she'd bent lamp posts down the whole street in two. While at the same time, a box cutter had been hard to lift, when she and Darcy were unpacking supplies. It had been tiny things. Nothing on the scale with what she'd felt today.

A hand rose to drag through her hair as she tossed the empty juice box into the tiny trash can beside her bed and she leaned back, crossing her arms.

"I felt like I was going to throw up. Or sneeze.. and I couldn't. It just kept getting worse." She rubbed at her temple in the rememberance of the pressure as she tried to keep her powers on lock down.


Rogue looked over at Scott when he entered the room and she took note of his tight tshirt and the words scrawled across it, she had to bite down on her gloved forefinger of her left hand to keep from commenting on it and calling him 'Dwight'.

Her eyes went back over to Lorna then and she looked at the concerned mother-to-be. "Well… you're okay now. I mean, ya got the Grandbaby'a Erik Leshensher—" Rogue had no idea how to say his lastname. "Inside'a you, which means that kid is gonna be a grumpy guss like few other babies ever could be!"

She flashed a smile at her. "We'll go get those Churchies some other time."


A twitch of a muscle underneath Scott's jaw as he clenches his teeth, listening, "It was sudden. A fast onset, even your complexion changed while we were still in the store." The odd look from Rogue at him gets no response.

"Was this something there, you, your kid? What triggered this, specifically?" Theres no joking tone, no flashy-fake smiles. He is just standing there with crossed limbs, "The mutant haters are not going anywhere. Our big concern right now is whats going on with you, Lorna." The X-Men nurse Annie can handle things while Hank and Jean are away at least but anything more serious… that will require specialized aid and attention.


Lorna shifted, her legs drawing close under the blankets at Rogue's words. "He's going by Max Eisenhardt, these days.. if not Magneto.." She corrected softly, and her gaze swung back to Scott. His words had her arms drawing around her waist once more and she looked away just as quickly.

"I don't know what triggered it, Scott. Okay?" She pursed her lips together and scooted toward the edge of the bed.

"And I can't just stay here while people try to scratch their heads and run tests. I have to get back to Genosha. I shouldn't have spent as much time here as I have. I have duties there, and a bodyguard that's going to be pissed I slipped her watch again. And no, I won't cause that damage in Genosha, because my father can shut me down if needed. He's done it before. There's less risk if I'm over there." She muttered. How strange, to say, an active war-zone was 'less of a risk'.


Rogue stood up about halfway through what Lorna was saying and she nodded her head softly. "Stress, I guess." She quietly said while making her way over toward the fridge in the medical center. She popped the door open, shoved her sleeves up to her elbows and then reached inside to root around in the fridge.

A second later and the fridge door was shut with a bump from her butt and there came the *snap* of a soda can opening up.

Rogue took a big swig from the 7-up and then leaned back against the counter beside the fridge. "So Illy's portals still up t'go back to Gilligan's Island?" She asked.


"He will always be just Magneto to some of us." Scott replies flatly. "Look, we have to figure out what happened back there, Lorna."

"You don't have to stay here but you're also proving to be a potential danger to those around you and maybe even yourself. This is worth some concern."

"We have the best medical technology for mutants here, well, some and if it is not enough there is always Moira MacTaggert, we can go see her, in fact I think that might be our best option."

A frown as Rogue mentions Illyana's portals after what he had witnessed on his tour and what the sorceress had told him. "We'll fly you back this time. Even if you refuse the MRC."


Lorna was pushing the blankets back as Rogue got up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, bare feet touching softly against the floor. Her lips twisted into a pursed, thin line of white. "I'm not that stressed." Her voice was clipped as her gaze followed the southern belle to the fridge and lingered. "I've never had that happen before."

And then she was making for the chair that held her socks and shoes at least. Shoving them on even as Scott spoke of her being a possible danger to herself and others.

She jerked her other sock on, then jammed her feet into the boots, straightening as she scowled at the older Summer's brother.

"I'm not getting in a plane. I'll take the portal. I don't have time to sit around and run tests. I've got shit to do."


Bets had entered Xavier's with long strides straddled by bags of varying 'Brand Names', and one in simple unmarked black.

But when the doors closed behind her and the bags tap against boot and hide laden calves her lips painted several shades darker, twist into a thin line and her eyes close while the 'silver lining' of greeting fades into a magenta Flash! of light and she is within the Med-Bay below. Those bags at her feet like her own version of 'sagged' worshippers, whilst arms fold over her chest and she is casts a slow…

.. Calculating vision of what is occurring.

".. and this is why I wanted her to put carrots away first.." A slow exhale and Betsy is entering the space fully.

Scott and Rogue are cast a slow glance before Lorna is focused on. With the *hiss* of soda can opening Psylocke lowers her head and pinches at the bridge of her nose while Lorna plays the usual card of indignant and far too proud to accept anyone's help.

"Scott?" A glance his way, a brief regard back to Rogue in affirmation/

"Like what shite to do, dear? Concern yourself with…" A flippant gesture, a curl of fingers…

"I went shopping I got boots… Booties! You should look!"


Rogue watched Lorna fly up out of bed and grumpily go to get her socks on. "Not stress. Something… else… then." Another sip of her soda was taken and then she looked over to Scott and gave him a WIDE EYED look before she just set the soda can down beside her.

Its about then that Betsy does as Betsy do and appear like a dazzling magic show. Rogue just gives her a little grin.

"What kinda booties ya got there, Frylocke?" She asks the pretty purple haired gal.

"We just got run out of a shoe store, and chased off by rednecks. Then Lorna had a Not-Stress Attack, so now we're just talkin' about what kinda pizza we wanna order t'night."

Rogue cleared her throat then, she glanced around. "That last part I just added."


"Anxiety, stress, whatever. You're very pregnant, you're not exactly expected to be in complete control of your emotions." Scott insists at Lorna, trying to sound sympathetic in his clueless method.
"We're only worried, about you and your kid."

An exhale, "The portal, maybe it's just… listen, Limbo is not a great thing to expose yourself to too much, you're carrying more than yourself right now. I'm not saying quit using it entirely just when the Blackbird is capable and offered, accept the offer. I insist, it would be good for everyone to have Doctor MacTaggert look at you, shes one of the best, if anything at all is wrong we may have missed, she'll catch it."

"Betsy, delicate situation here… ease up, just a little." Scott saying this? Whats happening.

"Right, Rogue summarized in her special way but it was just a lot more intense. Something that should have been a routine in and out went sideways… hard."

"Genosha isn't going to fall apart overnight without you there, Lorna. You can't take that place up on your shoulders alone, I know you're feeling some serious responsibility towards it and all but." A break in his words, letting it sink in and hang in the air.


Perhaps it was a sign of just how frayed Lorna's emotional state truly was. Perhaps it was her own worry, her own fear, gnawing inwards at how badly she'd just lost control. Either way, Betsy's words had a spike of anger lancing through Lorna's person once more. Her cheeks smeared red with heat and her hands clenched. "Shit to do? How about trying to form a new country in seven or eight months so when my kid is born, they don't have to deal with Purifiers at a damn strip mall! So they don't ever have to fear going out in public and getting attacked by a bunch of scared flatscans!" Her voice started soft enough before it rose.

And just as her powers had spiked before, they did again. The hospital bed frame suddenly wobbled and then was crushed inwards. Just as easily as Lorna had crushed the juice box in her grip moments before.

She stared, going still and frozen as she twisted to look back at the damage she'd created, the heat of a furious blush wiped clean from her face.

Her hand rose, pressing against her mouth as she shook her head. "I didn't mean to do that…"


"Winter booties, summer booties.. Baybee" Psylocke pauses as Lorna has her episode and spouts her words, one bag looped by Prada and tucked behind her person to keep away from Rogue. She missed her birthday after all! Makeup session.

For now though, brows furrow deeper… deeper.. scowl…

Lorna prattles and Scott backs it with a hush that would suffice a child. Not Betsy Braddock. A child… scoff…

"Welcome to the world we have all grown up in without media." Betsy states to Lorna, slicing a flick of gaze to Scott and letting it go with a slow exhale.

"You meant to do it, just not right now." Betsy states to Lorna, her look nonplussed as one bag is held to the expectant Lorna-Mother.

"Baby stuff." Beat "Were not friends, don't hug me." Bag rattle before it is set on the crumpled gurney as if it was treats offered to Rabid Yeller.


"Happy Birthday." The bag she stowed from Rogue earlier is delivered her way while Bets steps back expecting nothing, despite everything.

"We're family." A preening motion and she is propping herself upon a ledge. "… for a reason."


Rogue's seventh sense allows her to easily catch the bag from Betsy and she gives the purple haired woman a grin. "You're pretty fantastic, ya know that right?" She said to the psychic-ninja.

Rogue glanced down at the gift and then looked back over to where Scott and Lorna were. "I wish I knew how t'help ya, Lorna. I really do… but thats all stuff thats just, well… its way over my head. Its the kinda stuff I'd never get involved in. Kinda stuff, I don't think ANYone should ever get involved with, for that matter."

Rogue exhaled then and she made for the doorway. "I gotta go take care'a some stuff though." She reached out to give Betsy's shoulder a squeeze on her way out of the medlab.


"Lorna… "

One gets a look then the other, Scott's mouth opens.
A gurney folds in half like a crushed aluminum can. "We are going to visit Doctor MacTaggert."

Scott's mind opens up, that telepathic loud direct send he knows those like Elizabeth Braddock are sensitive to pushes out «The tough love isn't a good approach right now. Something is happening, she is unstable and spiking. Lets not bring the subplex down on our heads. She goes critical shes with child, we can't risk bringing her down in the usual methods.»

Whether or not Psylocke is receptive to his overload 'mind-shouting' Scott can't tell right away, hes watching Rogue excuse herself, he can't blame her, but he also does not have that luxury.

"The Blackbird is already flight ready, I can have it up within an hour." He states. Beyond those red filters hes studying Polaris, it's a definite shift, hes wondering if Magneto is even aware of this.


Lorna swallowed a hard, dry lump that formed at the back of her throat as her hands fell to her sides as Betsy swung a bag onto the wrecked bed. Her lips thinned at the remarks, and her jaw squared. Her hands curling tightly up at her sides. She made no move to grab for the gift, much less for any hug that Betsy warned her off. Instead, Lorna flickered a scowl at the purple tressed woman. Her shoulders rolling back as she inhaled and slowly exhaled a breath.

Only noting Rogue's departure with a faint look of apology. "Sorry, Rogue.." She muttered softly, and deflated. Her gaze returning to Scott as she crossed her arms.

"No. It's not safe for you to be in a plane with me Scott. It's a screaming metal death trap at that point. I'll take the portal." She muttered, her voice low.


Psylocke heard the psychic shout like a whisper in comparison to the offer of /acceptance/ from Rogue, perhaps even an understanding. But that woman took the time to listen to Psylocke and perhaps that is why there is such a stand-still with Lorna being the only one acting out in her own way.

«Child or not…» Psylocke sends back, coolly, her eyes never lifting after the slight drop in acknowledgement of Rogue's gesture in passing. «.. I know how to do what must be done… Without casualties..» Ohhh, personal is taken and Betsy snatches her own bags up in her grip and rocks from her prop upon the Med-Lab's counter to head for the door after it has closed behind Rogue.

"Wake me in an hour, or don't. This isn't my bag, apparently." A lift of arms to splay at her sides, carrying the bags of the shops she has visited in her thoughtful splurge that was pointless after all.

The door hisses to a close behind her. "Feck me running, I am not equipped to deal with kids."


"I am guessing Alex never told you that particular story, huh?" Scott smiles at Lorna, "I'll take the risk for your sake and your kid. Happily and any day. We'll head straight to Genosha afterwards."

Braddock is given a regarding look, he is rather used to this. The day the woman had her eyes ripped out just began an interesting change, it's all sort of… further twisted from there.

"If you want. We'll wake you, Betsy."

Like Rogue, she too departs. "She means well. Shes just rough around the edges." Scott explains.

Delayed, Scott looks back at Lorna, a hand reaching over to give her shoulder a light squeeze, "Besides, Screaming Metal Deathtrap sounds like a cool band name."

Dropping his hand back to his side and he makes for the door after the other two, "I am going to go start prepping for take off. Maybe see if you can't fix Hank's gurney and get a change of clothes along with your overnight bag. We'll be on our way in no time."


Lorna watched Betsy go, a flurry of emotions passing over her features as she held her tongue until the door shut behind the woman. Anger, hurt, outrage, stubborn determination, and a pang of regret mixed in with a good lump of general fear and worry that made her stomach tighten into knots. But this time at least, nothing further happened.

Lorna pursed her lips, folding her arms as Scott spoke about some story or another. Her lips parting briefly as he tried to cheer her up.

She hadn't told anyone besides Marcos and Pietro about the revelation of killing her mother. Magneto's telling had chilled her to the core. And she wasn't interested in having a repeat of it. So even as Scott made for the door. She shrugged and mutedly nodded.

But she had no intentions of waiting for him. As soon as the older Summers departed from the room? Lorna would make for the portal. Guilt and shame coloring her every movement. But it still didn't stop her from doing it.


Not long after…
The Hangar…

Waiting for preparations to begin flight procedures Scott crouches near the fuselage, moving the attached hose enough he can inspect the landing gear before smoothing his hand along one of the surface wing folding spoilers, the Blackbird gets extra special care from the man. He's a lover of fast things, like jets, the car that was ruined earlier, his bikes…

It's as Scott is there enjoying sacred alone time and presence of the heavily modified, Shi'ar-tech retrofitted SR-22 that he hears the quiet chirp of an alarm, the PA system and his phone's X-App. A specific one that announces use of the Limbo Portal, a security notification for ingress and egress. This was from the Mansion… not /to/ from that particular tone.

A deep inhale and Scott finds himself lingering on breathlessness -findyourhappyplace, gotothathappyplace- then an exhale, long, low and irritated.

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