Supply Drop

February 17, 2018:

Pietro and Wanda stop by Genosha to bring Lorna the relief supplies they "liberated" from SHIELD. As all siblings do, they argue, fight, and make up.

Outside Carrion Cove, Genosha

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

Before the Twins left Genosha weeks ago, they had left Lorna Dane with at least one channel of communication by which they could be reached at necessity, without the hassle of searching through cells of the Brotherhood and relying on hearsay and passed messages. It resembles a simple burner phone, though of course Wanda probably did something to it to make it even more secure than usual. It was of course not something to be used except at need — the two of them are highly wanted terrorists, after all — but it's there.

Soon enough, she gets a message on it that the Twins will be stopping back by Genosha for a brief visit. 'Bring something that can haul a decent amount of supplies,' it had specified, which probably alerted her as to the nature of the visit.

The location specified is a patch of wilderness a little outside Carrion Cove, though not so far that most forms of transportation short of 'portaling' would become preventatively inconvenient. It's atop a hill, and the neutral port is visible not far away. The Twins seem to enjoy such settings… perhaps it reminds them of simpler times, their lives as itinerant wanderers through the wilds of Europe.

The both of them are present, Pietro clearly having made the run again, though they are for the moment alone, standing together talking lowly on the crest of the hill. Pietro is holding his sister's hand, brushing her delicate fingers in his, and he must have made some joke, because he is smiling.


Lorna was grateful that someone had the decency to leave a message ahead of a visit to Genosha. It seemed that everyone (mostly Stark and friends) arrived and then told her they were here. She came in a hover car, with a trailer swinging around the back end, empty and clearly made to hauling serious amounts of whatever was needed.

The green haired woman got out carefully, a glance passed to the Acolyte body guard that drove, and another that remained just outside the vechicle. She glanced around, wind whipping against her features as she made her way toward her two wanted siblings.

Her hands were shoved into her jean pockets, sandals slapping against the grass as she walked over with a raised eyebrow. "Surprised that you two are back here so soon." She offered lightly, green eyes flickering to glance between the two. "How are… things?"


The wilderness seems to rhyme all too well with the mysterious Maximoff twins, who take to it far more easily than inside any great, looming city. It bids them, as well, with a strange sense of peace.

And the haunted, quiet Wanda a rare sense of play. Dressed for the humid weather in one of her red dresses, her dark hair knotted carelessly at her neck, the woman laughs freely along at her brother, happily tugging on their joined hands as she pulls teasingly on his arm. In her free hand, she's found some wide leaf she's plucked off one of the trees: a prize to take home. She likes collecting odd, little things.

Chin at Pietro's shoulder, she murmurs something back up at him through a Cheshire cat's grinning — though her behaviour eventually sobers when they are inevitably joined by their half-sister and her entourage.

Her smile gentled down to neutrality, her blue eyes look on, sizing up the small party without much threat. This is only her second time here, still a strange place, full of unknown variables — but she's not as on edge as last time.

Curiousity sparks in her eyes as she watches Lorna's approach; the witch has a way of looking through people. She probably can, with that sight of hers. She's unreadable a moment, before the comment of 'too soon' twitches up a corner of her mouth. "My brother's name /is/ Quicksilver," she intones. "'Soon' is usually how we do things."


The twins certainly seem happier out here, alone in the wild, than they did the last few time Lorna saw them, in the bustle of Carrion Cove and the unfamiliar busy crush of Hammer Bay. In one hand, Wanda holds onto some sort of leaf she found earlier; once he finishes his joke, grinning at his effect on her and at her response, Pietro adds to her collection a flower he finds off a nearby tree. Some bloom, particular to Genosha.

It is a rare sight, to find the twins this way, and it is something that is quick to dissolve into seriousness at the arrival of their half-sister and her entourage. Pietro assesses them all in a glance, the presence of the two guards taken in without much interest. If they properly know their place, they will not intercede into any interaction of their "Lord's" children.

Half a smile appears on Pietro's features at Wanda's wry response to Lorna's greeting. "Once we put our minds to something," he adds, "we prefer to get it done quickly and efficiently. After all, as you mentioned, your list was somewhat old information." He leans into Wanda, smiling slyly. His demeanor brims with annoying self-congratulation. "Thankfully not too old."

How are things, Lorna asks. "They go as we intend them to," he says cryptically. His grin widens. "Did you enjoy our gift? I trust Stark was used productively. Our 'father' certainly would find a way, the old bastard. The UN may give you some fight on this relief he intends to send. Official channels always take forever. However — "

He turns his head to drop an affectionate kiss lightly on Wanda's hair, a clear cue.


Lorna blinked a few times as a Wanda, her half sister, oh God that was so awkward still to think about. Commented about Pietro's name being Quicksilver. "Our brother?" Her voice dry as she considered the man in question. "We're related for better or worse now…" A sigh followed as Lorna shifted her weight upon her feet.

" Thanks for sending Tony Stark this way. Magneto had a media field day with it. And even laughed when I told him why Stark came this way. The man is useful." Her voice was still that bland melody of dry humor. "I'm happy to hear that the info wasn't too old…"


And those words draw Wanda's eyes.

They are no longer blue. They shine red as dying suns, burning bright, and absolutely at odds with the easy way the witch curves against Pietro's side, a wild tropical flower pink against her dark hair. Definitely at odds, too, with the way her smile hitches just a notch higher, not unlike the way a turn of the rack pulls someone's limbs until they pop from the sockets.

She tilts her head, gauging Lorna up and down, though the witch's red eyes linger a moment too long on her half-sister's belly. Reminding both of them she knows it's there. "No," corrects the Scarlet Witch, gentle. "My brother. And from what we've seen, it's not extraordinarily strong blood that even connects us."

The kiss to her hair brings her back — either that or the order it implies.

"More follows Stark," Wanda comments, breezily, as that red glow begins to flare from her eyes. It's been seen before, this power — though the last time that happened, she was tunnelling painfully into her half-sister's mind. Though this time —

No attempt of that, fortunately. Just the witch bringing red light to one hand, and gesturing with a flick of her fingers. All around the three, reality rearranges itself, and brings forth things that just did not exist a second ago. Crates upon crates upon crates of SHIELD supplies.


Our brother? Lorna says. Pietro pauses, knowing what will come of this. Yet he doesn't quite exercise his authority to stop Wanda immediately, content to let her play. He lingers long enough for her to speak, smiles indulgently at her words and what they imply, before he finally quiets her with that kiss.

"Enough, both of you," he says, though he seems more humored than annoyed, and the chide has no bite. Particularly not for Wanda. "Strong or not, it is blood. I take care of my blood." Wanda certainly is living proof of that.

There is, for just a moment, a brief glitter of intent interest in Pietro's eyes when Lorna says their father 'laughed' to hear who was responsible for sending Stark to Genosha. It is a passing expression, but it contains in it that classic yearning of a son for the notice and approval of a father. Clearly, Pietro has not been around his father enough to be disabused of such a notion by harsh reality, quite yet.

"Men like Stark are easy to provoke," he remarks. "And free with their resources. Until you can get them, however, there is this — " And Wanda makes manifest the results of what they have been doing, for the past few weeks.

"No deaths," he remarks. "No killing. SHIELD opposes the registration laws. Yet we thought it was about time they stopped talking about support, and provided." The crates are, as promised, relief supplies only: not a weapon to be seen. "This is yours."


Wanda's extreme reaction provoked a sharp reaction in return from the green haired woman. Her lips peeled back in a sneer, her eyes rolling as her hands dropped from their slouch in her pockets to hang losely at her sides. As red bled into existence so did the warped green bloom at Lorna's fingertips. A reaction of anger and mistrust perhaps, but enough that as Wanda's gaze dropped to Lorna's stomach—her powers snapped wildly at her sides. It would seem the implied threat through that gaze alone was enough for the little life growing inside to react as much as the mother.

Of course, then there was Pietro's words and Lorna took a deep breath, held it, exhaled and slowed her heart rate enough to calm the rage of her powers. "Fine." She snapped, "'Your brother', what the fuck ever. If it makes you sleep better at night. It's not gonna change what's there. Have fun." She muttered tightly, clearly ready to peace out.

And people said she was the mentally unstable one.

None of the Acolytes moved. They weren't there to protect Lorna from her siblings. They weren't there to interfere. No they were there to make sure the Magistrates didn't try another assasination attempt.

Pietro's words only managed to halt her steps long enough for her to spy the crates as they bloomed into existence and she sighed, anger going out of her as she looked over the supplies. She moved over to the crates, making to pry loose metal clasps, staples and nails that held them shut to peer inside. Green eyes lifted to glance toward her half-siblings and she grimaced. "Thank you. I appreciate it. I'm sure the mutates and mutants here will too."


It is a fact known by all witches, and the Scarlet Witch in particular: there is a great power in words. Great, unpredictable, and even sinister. And Wanda does not allow unwanted implications to hang in the air long.

She takes great offence, enough to bring the red into her eyes and point them in such ways to imply things in brief glances — and half-sister affects half-sister like gasoline thrown on fire.

But as Lorna rages in her Eden-green fury, Wanda is the scarlet void, chill and cold, bracing it with something that could be mistaken for patience, her eyes deliberate and calculating. Calculating new variables she'd not known before. She holds her end of the stand-off silently, though the ghost of that diplomatic smile haunts her mouth, lingering through her thoughts.

It's Pietro's intervention that breaks them up, and Wanda's eyes come off Lorna to glance up at him: clearly his words aren't entirely to her liking — probably the unstable twin expecting something that favours solely her and not inviting compromise — and she stings him with a look that's almost sharp, before she looks away.

At least though, she yields, calming similarly as Lorna does, though Wanda still seems testy around the corners.

Lorna's words of thank-you draw her eyes. "More shall follow," she promises quietly. "As much as is needed."


Scarlet clashes against green as the two women hackle right up, putting Pietro in the rather novel position of having to break up a fight rather than be the cause of one. The burden of the eldest sibling, so he supposes. At the least they both listen when he puts a stop to the disagreement… though Wanda plainly does not expect her brother to make any statement inviting compromise. Similarly, Pietro does not seem to expect his twin to hackle against his authority, so the surprise flows both ways.

He seems briefly taken aback, his blue eyes trading back and forth between his two younger sisters, before he reaches to brush a conciliatory touch along Wanda's face, along the rise of her cheekbone beneath her eye. He doesn't say anything, but the gesture says it all. It mingles an apology, and a bid that they talk about this — later.

His conciliation for his half-sister? The crates that pop into being. Pietro folds his arms and watches as Lorna stops to inspect them, the momentary friction gone before the one thing all three can apparently agree upon: the need to help the suffering of their own kind, wherever they might be.

"There will be more," he agrees, though his tone is now equally cross. He's clearly displeased himself, now that the opportunity for him to preen about the success of his own manipulative plans has been usurped by his sisters having a catfight instead. "Half the list remains. Though, I would prefer if the other avenue I have given you comes through… Stark does have a habit of going overboard whenever he pledges to do something, for one, and for another there are any number of other things to which my sister and I need to dedicate our time."


Lorna looked at Wanda with a raised brow as the woman promised more to come. A faint look of surprise coloring her expression that Wanda even spoke to her after the little display between them. But then again, this was business. The rest was personal. Either way, the green haired woman didn't comment on it as she glanced through the packages and other supplies buried and stuffed inside the crate, making a mental count of how much was likely in the others and processing how long the supplies would last, how many it would support.

Her attention shifted back toward Pietro as he spoke and she leaned her weight over the edge of the crate to watch the two. "I never put all my hopes on one source. This is a good start, though I'm hoping to work out more international deals. Stark's secretary promised fresh produce. Which while a nice supplement, isn't going to last as long as this will. Magneto is working on getting produce grown in Genosha up and running again." She murmured, pushing off the crate and with a wave of her hand, replacing the lid.

Green eyes lifted to consider Pietro and Wanda again. "If I start talking about investigating what the hell happened to the family and how you're both only a few years older than I am.. am I going to get slung over the island or have my head split in two again?" She hedged.


Though her mood seems a chaotic thing, right now mingling tension with worry and hurt, Wanda neither ignores nor rejects Pietro's touch along her face. If anything, it calms her, leaning momentarily into the contact — as her again-blue eyes look down, distant.

But whatever offended Wanda seems to have passed like a tide pulled out to sea, the woman drawn in on herself, remembering the leaf she acquired in one hand and letting it spin by its stem between her fingers. Wanda does, however, speak again to Lorna, and look up on her half-sister with some of her original formality, though now it's a bit withdrawn around the edges. The upset, at least on her side, gone.

She listens enough to hear of talk about Genosha wanting to grow its own things, provide for its own people. "When you settle this land," Wanda speaks up gravely, "I can speak to the soil. It was gentle to me before in last congress. It will listen."

Wait, what? Witches are strange.

Of course, then Lorna moves on to the topic of investigating the family — namely the mystery that surrounds the displacement of time among the Maximoff twins. Wanda stiffens up, her breath arrested for a beat, nervousness hitching her up, that of a woman still very unprepared to face her past, and much less have another — a vertiable stranger in the cloistered world of the twins — discover it first. She doesn't like the idea, not at all, anxiety bringing a slight tremble to her hands. She defers to Pietro, his authority overriding hers, though the look she turns up on her brother is begging.


"You'll have an uphill battle in that," Pietro remarks, of Lorna's talk of international deals. "Our father is allowed on this island only by the grace of the UN. We sent Stark to give him a stronger public image so he may properly build this country, but it will take more for them to actually support him as a legitimized ruler." His expression turns wry. "Not having an open civil war still active in the country, for one thing. He would be quite the hero if he put down the rebellion before someone else snatched that glory." Which is doubtless all stuff Lorna already knows, but Pietro would not be Pietro if he weren't mansplaining something.

He seems neither surprised about Wanda's sudden change in mood, nor the words she speaks. What seems 'odd' to others is just 'normal Wanda' to him. His sister's affronts are quick, but often pass as quickly, her mind lost continually in the constant noise of her witch's sight. Far too much noise for such small things as emotion to be held for long.

To date, Pietro has been the easier of the twins for Lorna to speak to, for whatever reason. It is certainly unusual that this would be the case, as 'anyone who has had any interaction with Pietro Maximoff at all' can attest; he's not really the sort of personality one would ascribe as being easy to deal with, what with his arrogance and his tendency towards self-absorption. Yet for whatever reason, he seems to have enough interest in his other family ties to keep prodding at them.

Now, whether it is because of genuine interest in being a family, or for more pragmatic and manipulative reasons, is hard to say. When Lorna called Pietro out for being a little too like Magneto in some respects, she wasn't totally wrong. Both father and son like to play their games.

Easy as he might have been for her to deal with until now, however, there are certain things the youngest among them still cannot wheedle out of him. Wanda's distress shines in his mind like a beacon, her nervous trembling drawing his attention immediately. His arm loops around her waist in automatic comfort, pulling her close into his protection in a way that has become rote after so many years. In this, Wanda does not even have to plead for her brother to protect her.

"There are some things that are ours to discover, Lorna," he says quietly — with finality. "In our time, when we are ready to know it."


Lorna blinked as Wanda offered to 'talk' to the dirt, wait what? As far as the green haired mutant understood the witch part of 'The Scart Witch' was hardly an inclination towards magic, more of that Wanda's powers simply could be percieved as such. More to the confusion of the youngest of the three. Such was life it seemed. Still, Pietro's explaination about the state of the country had her rolling her eyes.

"They need him here. Otherwise he'd be in their backyards, wreckin' their shit. And this way they can throw away all the mutants they don't want under the guise of 'helping'.." She made a noise at the back of her throat in disgust. Though she fell silent as Wanda expressed distress rather than anger. Pietro's own softly spoken words holding a means of rooting the green haired mutant's sympathies more solidly than before.

Her expression softened. "I mean to offer you help if you want. Someone had to have done something to mess with you. And clearly, our lives would be very different if they hadn't." Her brows furrowed faintly. "Did you know.. we had an aunt? Her name was Ruth. And our grandparents…? They were taken too. People have hurt our family in the past. And I want to prevent that in the future. My child deserves to know they've got an aunt and an uncle. And someone tried to take that away. It isn't right, what you've had to go through. And I just.. I want to offer that support." She exhaled a breath, and dragged her hands through her hair.


All that mansplain has no objection by Wanda; she is made all the more peaceable simply to hear her twin speak. The sound of his voice is one of the few — if any — constants she is allowed to keep in her stormy life.

It was one of the few things that kept her nightmares at bay.

Wanda remains silent as Pietro speaks, first for himself, and then for both of them — an unpredictable anxiety tightening her up well enough to compel him to bear his twin sister closer to his side. She lays her head briefly to his chest, exhaling, his stern declaration a comfort.

Then Lorna, far more gentle, explains her reasons why. They are words that turn Wanda's head, her blue eyes on her half-sister, taking in her shape in the strange, ephemeral way the witch sees others: barely by features of the face or shape of the body, but the way their life and signature of the soul loops in each person's unique cursive.

She glances up at Pietro, a shade of red through her eyes as if to communicate something to him, before she deigns to speak. Her voice is slow, like each word is chosen with care.

"We also had a mother," Wanda tells Lorna. "She died for Pietro and me. She was not our blood, as we realize, but she was our mother. I don't want to taint her memory by doing this… too quickly. Too recklessly. I believe you have every license to chase our father's line. But when it comes to… Magda," she says the name hesitantly, perhaps the first time ever aloud, "the woman with my face."

She cannot call her 'mother'. Not yet. It feels like an insult on the mother who died screaming in fire. "If you could leave her legacy to us to discover. It would be… appreciated."


"Of course," Pietro says, an arrogant lift of his head accompanying the words. "I'm sure they think it's a win-win situation to pen Magneto in on an island, along with all the upstarts who would actually follow him here. All rounded up in one place. But there are ways yet to turn this all to our own favor." Magneto, and each of his children in their own respective ways, are certainly working towards that end.

Talk of their actual family, however — the shared blood that is the true reason any of them came together in the first place — sobers him out of that topic of conversation. He easily senses Wanda's anxiety, and his head turns slightly towards her — listening — as her eyes glimmer red. He brings her close to soothe her, his attention wholly upon her comfort, and it is quite easy to see why the Witch prickled so hard at the idea of a sudden new sister pulling at their older brother's attention, as well.

But Wanda need not fear. In this respect, her brother is as adamant as she is.

But Lorna's softened expression, her offer of help, relent him slightly on the topic. So too does the way she puts it — clearly their family was messed with by someone in the past, and if there is one thing Pietro will not tolerate, it is someone having the gall to mess with his blood. That much is clear in the anger that flickers in his eyes, as Lorna relates the many ways in which their family has been hurt in the past. Their older sister killed before she could leave childhood. Their grandparents, their aunt… lost in concentration camps and war. Pietro and Wanda themselves, kept hidden from their father by some mysterious mechanism that has them now appearing several decades too late —

In the end, whatever silent communication they traded, it was apparently left to Wanda to speak this time. Pietro is largely silent as she speaks, though he adds quietly, "Her name was Marya Maximoff." Those words alone, the tone he says them in, state why the twins keep their surname. "We… appreciate the support. We are not used to relying on anyone outside ourselves. Learn freely about our father; I think it is important for us all to know what kind of man he is." But Magda… not yet. That, the twins wish to find themselves.


The fact that oil and fire weren't combusting for the moment was enough to drag Lorna away from the crates to tip toe almost, toward the twins. Her hands hung loosely at her sides as she listened with care to Wanda's words and a slow nod followed. "I can't say I understand entirely.. I never had a mother. I had foster parents sure, but that was never particularly a close relationship. The woman that birthed me died when I was three.. In a plane crash that I caused." Her breath followed a short exhale and she shook her head. Eyes flickering to Pietro. He knew. He'd told her about Wanda's own powers manifesting. Now, she spoke for her half-sister's benefit. Knowledge that had only come from her time in Genosha, after the witch had combed through her memories. Her voice was rough, thick with emotion that she barely held in check.

"I'll leave your discoveries to you. But know I'm here if you need me. For anything. Our family has lost enough, and I'm not willing to lose more."


It is an eminently sheltered world wherein Wanda lives, one where all her needs and comforts were provided solely by her twin brother. He was always there, as he is now, reacting immediately to soothe away even her smallest anxieties, and she eases into the known safety that is Pietro.

It's all she knows — for a woman who never learned how to do such things for herself — and easily reason why it petrifies her to lose it. She's never even had to share Pietro's attention, and merely the thought of doing so —

She wouldn't know what to do. Where even to start. How does one learn to take comfort in someone other than one person? Especially when the rest of the world has repeatedly proven it rejection of her: as both a mutant and a witch. It's a terrifying reality littered with unknowns.

Pietro's anger towards the insults against their bloodline — beginning with Magneto's direct family — does not ire Wanda equally. Not yet, at least. Her heart still hangs too hard onto the past, only the memory of the woman who died for them — who died because of her. Why does accepting a new family feel like a betrayal on her? Why does it feel like a betrayal on the years she spent alone with Pietro, just the two of them, suffering but always together? She doesn't know. The answers will not come.

Why do these things feel like to accept one, she must reject the other?

If anything, Wanda does listen, her blue eyes turned to Lorna's words — there is something in someone speaking freely of their own past, that the witch has not pulled forcefully from their mind. Two half-sisters who killed their false mothers. The parallel makes her go very quiet.

"Thank you," is all Wanda tells Lorna, very quietly.


Pietro can keenly feel that fear in his sister's mind and heart. His response is to take her in the crook of his arm, soothing her as he always has. His attention is as immediate and constant as ever. Why do you fear what would never happen, Wanda? he asks her, through the conduit of their thoughts. You are mine.

And avaricious as he is, it seems Pietro has far more room in his mind and heart than his sister to acquire more people over which he feels entitled to some dominion. He has not forgotten their adoptive parents, has not forgotten their love or sacrifice; he has not forgotten those years he and Wanda spent alone with one another. But he accepts the idea of new family, new blood, much more readily; he moves past those years they spent wandering much more easily, because he hated them in a way Wanda never did. They suffered so much, and the indignities they had to endure were so great. He always felt that they were supposed to be something more.

Magneto, Lorna, the family they represent… that feels like 'something more.' He has internalized them as his blood. And Pietro will repay any insult done to his blood in equal measure — for he perceives it, first and foremost, as an insult to HIM. And that, he cannot tolerate.

Especially now that Lorna comes close, and tries to reach out in a way. Particularly to her half-sister. If anything will soften Pietro, it is someone doing a kindness to Wanda.

His arm tightens around her. "We will not lose more," he says quietly, "if I have anything to say about it."

His gaze flicks towards the horizon, clearly restless to be gone. "Whoever gave you that list had solid intel," he says, eventually. "We're halfway down it, but if there's more information to be gotten… it's very easy for Wanda and I to take what we need." His hand trails down Wanda's arm, fingers seeking to lace with hers.

"Let us know," he says to their half-sister. "For now, we should be moving on."


Lorna smiled weakly to Wanda's blue eyed gaze, her own expression pinched with no small measure of concern, of empathy and concern for her half-sister. How could the green haired woman still find the room for such emotions after becoming so incensed time and again? Perhaps it was that gnawing desire for what was denied her. To find that connection that had elluded her for most of her life.

Sure, there was the found family at the Institute. She was to be married. A kid on the way.. but there was something more about a family denied to her. One that could have been and had been prevented by someone somewhere. The desire was strong to fight back against that meddling, to latch onto the twins and hold them close as if to flip of fate that had torn them apart.

To find someone that shared that familiar strain of a relation with Magneto and someone that didn't judge her for it.. meant a great deal indeed.

"You're welcome, Wanda." She murmured softly, her voice gentle. Pietro drawing her attention away from the brunette with his voice and an exhalation of breath followed. With a shifting of her posture.

"I'll ask my source if she can think of anything. Though at this point she might not be able to get anything. She's stepped away from her position to help me here. And Magneto has extended her protection since apparently, she helped free him." Surprise that, Magneto letting a human woman run around and yell at his Acolytes without harm coming to her. Of course, the fact she did so often on Lorna's behalf could only amuse the magnokinetic.

"Some day I want to… go to Europe and track down our father's side of the family. See what's left, if anything to find. Maybe you two should come with me when I do that." She smiled again, her brows furrowing. "You two take care, alright? Call me if you need anything."

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