War of Words

March 17, 2018:

Scott Summers visits M-Town and is greeted by Frenzy, Wanda and Pietro. It's a 'productive' chat. Completely productive.


NPCs: None.


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Though the Brotherhood has reduced its open operations in Mutant Town, ostensibly to avoid drawing heat down upon the innocent mutants who make their homes there, a distinct presence is still maintained in the form of watchful eyes and threaded hexes. Though the Twins were not anywhere near enough New York to be aware of the incident with the Hulk nor intervene in it, they certainly heard about it on their return.

There was something else they had heard: Scott Summers had been seen in the area, presumably scouting and recruiting. There's not many mutants who don't know who he is, much less a pair that like to keep as informed as Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch.

One brief conference between the Twins later, Pietro had called Frenzy and asked her to keep a particular eye peeled in the neighborhood to see if Summers might return, and to pin him down if so (not literally). There were words to be had here. The Twins were curious to know the answers to many questions, which might inform just what sort of… stances needed to be taken, all around.

For now, he and his sister are enjoying the rarity of a warm March day at the outdoor seating of one of Mutant Town's less rundown cafes. Studiously, brother is stirring milk and sugar into coffee for his sister, as if she were incapable of doing it herself.

Scott Summers has been making routine trips in and out of M-Town, his last visitation was an attempt to meet with one Doctor Bruce Banner but other things interrupted that. Green horrible things and he made the hand off there, that was not a threat the X-Men were going to pit themselves against, Iron Man, the Avengers, the Justice League, the DEO and SHIELD, much better options in Summer's opinion.

He is once again in District X, this time a different reason, checking up on a 'above typical ranges' of power mutant thats been asked by the school to check in on, he's returning from that. Walking from an apartment complex towards his Mazda RX. Keys jingling as they spin around one finger, a lot of thoughts running through his mind that had this entire visit with a possible student and his concerned parents very distracted, clipped almost and far more detached than Scott preferred. This is why the others are better options for this, even at their worst they manage compassionate. The car is stopped by and he pulls up his phone, thumbing through contacts, while he is in town he may as well…

There are many roles to fill in the Brotherhood; eyes, ears, spy, fighter, teacher, but one of the most prolific roles is that of 'runner'. The kind of job that doesn't seem important, but really is for the flow of communication.

Currently several 'runners' for the Brotherhood are loitering and lurking around the neighborhood, their seemingly bored attention focused on nothing at all - nothing, that is, until Scott Summers shows up. That's when their proverbial ears perk to attention.

Then through word of mouth and a few dozen texts from burner phones Frenzy's cellphone suddenly lights up. The tall and muscular woman turns her gaze to the phone and when she sees the message she can't quite stop the pleased smile lightning her features.

Then she's on the move.

Her arrival is quite understated, as she quietly steps over to the car, just as Scott does the same. As he thumbs through his contacts he might hear the *lightest* raps, as Frenzy knocks her knuckles against the car's body. Then comes the innocent sounding opening, "Nice car."

Scott's head is down, those glasses hiding the red eyes behind them while they remain etched upon his texting. He's not the sort who can look somewhere else meanwhile work that thumb magic, never has been. Thats a true gift.

"Yeah, I am moving. The meter still has five minutes left."
It's a brush off that fits Scott's mood but as /nice car/ registers he is looking up about to say thanks, something familiar about the voice but not registering until he sees her face.

The atmospheric hustle and noise of M-Town lost to him, fading out as he zeroes in on Frenzy, "Yeah, it is." Not a thanks now. He recognizes her as an Acolyte. Shes thrown some very heavy things at him in the past and stands directly opposed to the X-Men more often than… well, always has.

"Can I help you? Shouldn't you be off in Genosha with the rest of your pack?" This wouldn't be about Lorna. There is no way, it makes no sense. There is a knit to his dark brows beyond those rounded ruby lenses.

Frenzy's expression shifts when Scott finally looks up at her. It turns to another one of those smiles that's more feral than polite.

But, because there is one here, that wild quality to her expression doesn't move into anything physical.

Pietro gave the order to find Scott, to keep him in one place, but without exerting any undo force, so /that's/ what she'll do. Even if it's not necessarily the way she'd handle it.

His question about Genosha and her pack causes her to snort softly, "I go where I'm needed most." Which causes her to shoot a quick side-eye to Mutant Town, "And here is where it's at."

Her brown eyes return to the man across from her as Frenzy settles into her typical arm-crossed stance. "After all, /we/ take care of all mutants who reside here. Not just a select few who meet /your/ standards of acceptance."

And while she could tell him the Twins want to speak with him she doesn't, not yet, at least.

This wouldn't be about Lorna, Scott thinks. Scott is one hundred percent correct.

It's about the voice that suddenly lifts up from behind Scott. It is a voice Scott has heard once before, in the midst of explosions and screaming and the sounds of a charity event gone wrong: a deeply self-assured, condescending voice that, despite its owner's many years in America, has not lost its Eastern European accent. "She was mouldering away in Genosha, Mr. Summers. Her focus is better spent here. Don't you think?"

Penning in Scott between themselves and Frenzy, the Twins make their leisurely approach, Pietro in the lead as typical. This close, the young man's resemblance to his father drives home like a slap to the face; he looks like someone photocopied Magneto in a Xerox that flattened out sixty-odd years of age from his features.

"After all, these are very troubled times," he says calmly. "Frenzy tells me the X-Men presence was minimal in Genosha after the coup. My sister and I had assumed this meant your attention would be here, standing against registration. Yet we hear little but silence…"

All the while in that little coffee shop, Wanda Maximoff waited with her metered-out, timeless patience as her twin brother prepared her coffee. Her own hands remain in her lap, folded away, idle, a passivity about them of someone who may have never done such things for herself — ever. Not when she has a constant, dutiful brother to attend to her every comfort.

She smiles around her first sip of coffee, pleased, always to her liking — until her eyes shift from blue to red. Alerted, a block away, with her witch's sight — Frenzy has found whom they seek.

The everyday, mutant denizens walk by as the Maximoff twins show themselves in public, as if their faces are either unrecognizable or not of import: and for a reason, drifting as a flicker of red light at the ends of Wanda's fingers. A mild glamour hex, to disguise the Brotherhood three's faces — though to Scott, their appearances remain themselves and unchanged. A small help to keep the terrorists in hiding.

The flicker of red snuffs out into her closing palm, as the Scarlet Witch steps out from her brother's back like the shadow of some star, smaller than he is, dark-haired, red-eyed, and dressed in black. Her eyes find Scott Summers, and almost immediately, she is all smiles.

"Come now, brother," Wanda asides out loud to Pietro, though there's no chide in her voice — only a deep sense of play. "Indicting the neighbours on the spot. Surely we can have some charity to an ally who stands on the same side we do — though he seems to have gotten a little lost along the way. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Summers. It seems you've already met our friend, Frenzy."

"I think Mutant Town has enough troubles without you adding to it." Scott says to Frenzy, straightening up a little taller than he was, not looking so casual civilian to appear more proud, defiant and quite possibly prepared.

"You think thats the case? Some of /us/ live here too and play watchdog. Far more peacefully." At least the last he knew Madrox is not far off and Nate claims to have an apartment here somewhere, saying his hotheaded alter-son-but-not is a safer bet than the Brotherhood is a stretch.

"We though, huh? When did the Acolytes reinvest in the mainland. I figured you would all be…. " Pietro's voice cuts him off. Upon hearing it Scott's pivots in a half-circle to face Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch, a crimson tracer following him, bleed off coming out from under his glasses.
"I see." He says flatly. Remaining as upright as his six three possibly four in these pointy dress shoes allows.

"The registration pressure still pales to what the Purifiers were doing years ago and we put them down. The locals memories can't be that short."
"We've met already, the two of you though… I never got to give you a proper hello last time." Yeah. He is going to do it!

Cyclops does it and fires a big super friendly jolt of energy right at the twins. That optic blast making its typical electronicdub-step VROOT sound as it pops off.

"It pales compared to that," Pietro agrees. "For now. Do you really think it won't snowball? All memories are short except memories of pain. Gratitude fades fastest of all. You have all been given enough time to push peace while the Brotherhood lay in pieces, doing nothing… and the humans have repaid your peace overtures with hate and mandatory registration. You must see there is only one way forward."

He might have said more, if not for the sudden change in Scott's stance and the words that suggest impending attack. Quicksilver's blue eyes widen slightly in the half-moment before that blast fires off, his accelerated perceptions taking in the flare of crimson light as it lances forward.

A sharp wind kicks up, eddying in the street between the buildings rearing high on either side. Faster than the eye can perceive, a few things occur.

One: Wanda is standing about five feet to the right of where she was, with the smoking crater of Cyclops' optic blast marking the spot she was previously standing.

Two: Pietro himself is in Scott's face, lightning-quick. Scott is taller, no doubt heavier; it makes no matter to a man with momentum, momentum that is being used to try to catch Scott by the collar and slam him back against the side of the car.

"You fire at my sister again," Pietro hisses, "and I will make it the last time."

His gaze flicks right, Pietro taking his eyes off his opposition with plain arrogance. "I'm bored of this farce. Frenzy."

"Sometimes peace isn't what's needed." Responds the Acolyte quite easily enough to those initial words from Scott Summers. "Sometimes you need to do more than just *watch*." Accuses the tall woman, and while something more hovers right behind her lips the rest of what she'd like to say pauses as the Twins arrive.

Her gaze automatically flicks to Pietro and Wanda and when the two speak Frenzy quiets. Her attention splits between her two charges and Scott Summers, and keenly the woman watches. While she isn't quite as quick as Pietro (because who really is) Frenzy likewise picks up on the subtle cues and changes that precipitate Scott's attacks. That starts her on the path of attack -

"HOW DARE YOU!" Shouts the Acolyte, and while Pietro gives the word (as it were), it's hard to say if Frenzy really needed that word to be said. Fury and anger burns within her gaze and it causes her lips to pull away from her teeth with a silent snarl.

That rage causes the woman to move to step into Scott's personal space even as her arm ratchets backwards. It only takes a second for her to bring her arm around, her fist aimed to strike Scott square in the chest.

Lacking the reaction time of her twin brother, Wanda — has only a single moment to see that first, blinding plume of red —

Similar to her scarlet light, but not the same: this one stings the air with its power and violence. A concussive lance of energy, rushing towards both Pietro and herself, and with little she can do to prepare against the suddeness of it all.

Thankfully, Pietro can. Too fast for her mind to even comprehend what happened, Wanda feels the world tilt and the street blur around her, and inside a heartbeat, shudders back as the sidewalk opens up violently where both Maximoffs once stood. Eyes leeching from blue to red, scarlet playing at the tips of her fingers, she looks over and up —

And sees Pietro and Scott Summers, in that same moment, squaring off. Frenzy, reacting with her warrior's instincts, responding instants later, recoiling back one of her deadly fists.

As for Wanda? Her attention shifts, back on the street — they've attracted Mutant Town onlookers, civilians close to being caught in the fray, and she lashes out with her scarlet, fingers braiding a hex to push and shield mutant onlookers forcefully away behind curving red walls.

"You bring violence to our DOORSTEP?" snarls the witch.

Scott's only able to let out a 'gurk' noise as a blur of motion has him whipped around in a half circle, slamming against his own car with a loud THUDD. A reflexive elbow throws back and sweeps out wide, not meant to do anything more than throw Pietro off of him so he can twist out of the way of Frenzy's fist. A fist that has just punched a hole through the top of Scott's car, crashed through the roof and bent it in the middle. It looks akin to a crushed can, the impact from Pietro has winded him, jarred him forward enough his lip is swelling.

"You want to preach about violence."

Scott rasps out before his head turns, close proximity? He doesn't care. He's not one to go down without a serious fight and he knows he is going down.

A fast burst of red optical discharge not at any of them, no, at his own car, no less than three feet away from himself, Frenzy and Quicksilver.
Blood trickling down his lip he still manages to grin as the vehicle goes up in a BANG and explosive eruption, shrapnel, optical discharge and fire blowing out from it, throwing concussive force outwards.

Yes, if not caught or snared or defended somehow, Scott will soar like a bird, one that doesn't have a clue how to use it's wings. Which… is not soaring at all.

This impact likely won't even mess up Frenzy's manicure and Quicksilver, well, speedsters are OP. Terrifyingly OP. Scott's just a maniac. They should see his self imposed training regime. Who in their right mind fights Savage Land raptors blind folded with a stick? Crazy people.

Probably not his greatest idea but Scott doesnt figure they're here for much of a chit chat, they're delivering a message. And so is he. The Summers and the X-Men, won't back down.

When Frenzy's fist slams down into the car (versus Scott) the sound of dying plastic and metal might be heard.

While her punch did catastrophic damage, it might have been able to come back from it, maybe. That maybe, however, is taken away as Frenzy pulls her hand free and then Scott lights his own car up with his optic blasts.

The Bruiser of the Brotherhood has enough time to turn around, her expression screwed up in disgust. Disgust that her fist didn't slam him right in the chest.

That disgust soon turns into a widening of her eyes, as those red beams lance outward at his car. The shrapnel, the fire, the blowing up doesn't bother Frenzy. What does get a reaction from her is the concussive force that bubbles outward. The strength behind that explosion is enough to push the woman away from the carcass of the car. She doesn't go far, thankfully, as Jo literally slams a hand into the ground to stop her forced momentum. The ground rips open in a deep gash and when Frenzy finds herself at a stand still, the woman slams her other hand into the ground and when she rises back to her feet a good sized chunk of cement and earth comes with her. "Violence you started!" Frenzy snarls, picking up the thread from Wanda and to a lesser degree Scott too, "We just wanted to talk, now all we can do is defend ourselves from you."

And there goes that chunk of Earth, thrown in the general direction that Scott went flying.

Instruction delivered, Pietro slides back and away like a wraith before the trained reflex of Scott's retaliatory strike. It means he's forced to let Summers go, which means in turn he's able to dodge Frenzy — but no matter. Quicksilver is relaxed nonetheless. He apparently believes the matter of Cyclops to be at a close.

If there is one thing Magneto's son seems to share with his father in spades, it's ridiculous arrogance. He hasn't quite acquired his father's full wisdom to temper that arrogance, however, judging by the fact he takes his eyes off Scott: first to deliver that command to Frenzy, then to check — as is his habit — on his sister. The red light of her defensive hex reflects in his blue eyes, and her anger brings him to shake his head in sad agreement. "He does, sister," Pietro mourns. "The one place you would think he would care about NOT h — "

Of all the things Pietro expected from Scott, nuking his own car was NOT one.

It's unexpected enough it actually takes the speedster off guard. The explosion slams into him and sends him back-first against the brick facade of a building across the street, and it's only his own resistance to blunt force that keeps the damage from being worse. As it is, it certainly pisses him off. "Not HERE," he roars, as he pulls himself free of the powdered wall. "Of all places, not here. In the middle of our own people?! No." He pushes himself back to a stand, slashing an arm at the wide-eyed onlookers beyond Wanda's shield. "Go home, all of you."

He returns to his sister's side, seething, as Frenzy continues her assault. His next words are as much instruction for the Acolyte, as they are a warning for Summers. "This one, we are going to send home in much worse condition than we ever originally intended."

It all happens so fast.

This time, Wanda, well-away from the ground zero of that explosion, has more a chance to prepare. Trusting Frenzy's strength and fortitude to suffer through that bright, fiery, concussive blast, she weaves another hex out of her moving hands, forming a shield of flickering, translucent scarlet, to save herself from the immediate shockwave and rain of metal shrapnel —

As for Pietro? Wanda reacts without thought, quick and reflexive, whispering a lie to the world to change to thicken the air on his trajectory backwards — offering friction and deceleration — and cursing the brick wall into a different substance of far more yield, where scarlet receives him with less a chance of whiplash or shock trauma. His body, while not as durable as Frenzy, can still weather far more than normal — but still, she will not stand idle and allow him to feel pain.

"Pietro," is all Wanda says, imbued in those words worry and question — needing an answer if he is all right.

Her hands are knuckled, and seething out from those tight fists, breathes brilliant, flaring, wicked red. Between the raging fire that is that devastated car — she hates fire, HATES fire, too many memories, far too many memories — an attack on them, and all of this at once, Wanda barely collars herself with control. Glowing red threatens to burn away the humanity from her eyes.

The witch is furious. "If he wishes war, so be it."

"Calculated risk. I don't intend to hurt anyone here but the three of you." Scott says, his jacket is destroyed, his shirt underneath hangs by a thread off of his waist, one side of his glasses are shattered, hes staring out one eye. Hair is a mess. Burn marks char up his bare torso and off one shoulder, left arm hangs limply and legs are bowed like hes about to topple over.
Then Frenzy's continued fire of a rock is in his face, he tries to move aside, slower now it clips his elbow and sends him in a spin that has him landing on his face. A loud cry of pain escaping him as that attached shoulder SNAPs out of the socket, arm turned around at the bicep, hanging limply against his thigh while he tries to heft himself up off the ground.

"You already declared war at the Gala, again at Gotham, what do you expect? A talk over some damn coffee and donuts." He is trying to turn his head to look at them out of that one glass piece thats in tact, the other eye held squinted shut. "I don't think so." He says very firmly. Far too much confidence for the state he is in. "You're criminals, murderers and terrorists. Surrender now and give yourselves up. Thats the only option for peace here."

Blood in a steady trickle froths out of his mouth and he starts to cough.

As soon as the rock is out of her hands Frenzy pivots upon her heel, her eyes leaving Scott's position for a second, as the Bruiser looks for her charges.

Seeing them mostly safe lessens the tension upon her features, though not by much. Not when Pietro gives those words of instruction, nor when Wanda calls for war.

There's grim agreement for both the Twins and then, Frenzy returns her attention to the bloodied man.

Neatly now and with some purpose Frenzy walks toward Scott. Her footsteps are heavy enough to leave a shallow imprint behinnd, as the woman all but stomps to the downed man.

Towering over Scott, the Acolyte looks coldly down at him. A mirror of another place, another fight, though done for different reasons than this. "Surrender." Scoffs Joanna again and as she speaks, Frenzy bends down and grabs Scott by an arm. Once her grip is secure around his limb she straightens, bringing Scott up with her.

"You use peace to hide behind. To stay safe - to assuage your conscience. We use it to strike back. To make a real difference." Sneers the woman and then she looks to Pietro, to Wanda. She waits for them now.

Caught by his sister, her hex softening the impact, Pietro's answer for her concern whispers in her thoughts across that permanent bond between them. I'm fine. I'm fine, but very disappointed…

He pulls himself free as Frenzy stalks towards the downed but still defiant Cyclops. As she speaks her harsh words. Scott's stubborn demand for them to surrender, nonetheless, brings incredulous laughter from the young man. "I don't know what we expected," Pietro admits.

He walks towards Scott where the Acolyte holds the X-Men leader captive, his pace measured, shedding brick dust from his clothes as he does. His movements are held to a normal speed — an insult when coming from him. "I know what we intended, Cyclops. We intended to convince you of the rightness of our stance, and to have you join our efforts. We are brothers, you and I — brother mutants. Your genetics bought you that much courtesy from us.

"We are not our father." His expression splits in a brief snarl just to think of the man. "We can be reasonable."

He glances at his sister. Something wordless trades between them, heralded by the flicker of scarlet in both their eyes. "But you seem to have made your choice," he finishes, turning back to Scott. "Leave him, Frenzy. Let him see how long it takes the humans he loves to bother noticing any harm done in District X. The greatest city in the world… and its humans pretend this entire place does not exist."

He turns away, to take his sister by the arm.

"No more fire," orders Wanda, and the last, burning remnants of that husked-open, smoking car all snuff to nothingness.

Her eyes draw off Pietro, not after facelessly looking him over — a hex sight to read for injury — before, assuaged only so much, the glow cools to red embers in her eyes. She brings down those red walls with a twitch of her fingers, the scarlet rearranging itself, dispersing and fading like harmless, dying light.

Out of the wreckage and wearing the worst of that explosion, Cyclops turns her words back on her. He demands they surrender. Eyes turned, Wanda's face chills over.

"We declared war on humanity," she snarls back. "For all they've done to us. They will escalate into genocide and yet you want to wage these pointless battles with us?! We will be ALL you will have left. There will be a time you will BEG us to save whatever it is you love, and we may not answer. The only peace will be when our kind is dead! Yet our kind hides, remains complicit, or strikes ITSELF!"

Pietro takes Wanda by the arm; she is tense to the touch, locked up as tight as steel. "So you are with the humans?!" she still is snarling after Scott. "You choose them?! FINE!"

Hefted effortlessly Scott cries out at the bending of his arm, his head slackens as he tries to look defiant, prideful but hes lost, hes on the verge of passing out only remaining upright at this point because of Frenzy."Reasonable?" A headshake, a slow one, "You wouldn't have convinced me of anything. This outcome… this is where it always ends up with the Brotherhood. I just took the initiative this time… and you want to act shocked." Scott manages a crooked smile as he tries to look at Pietro, with that still good - lensed eye then at Wanda, "They're not doing it to us, not anymore, its people like you, you're starting the war again… " He slackens, slipping forward but, hes Frenzy's burden until well… she decides gravity is a better babysitter, it won't be.

When Pietro speaks Frenzy listens. She nods at all his various points.

Then when Wanda speaks Frenzy shifts her attention from brother to sister, and once more she listens. She nods (again) at various points, but when the amount of rage that Wanda feels is seen, Frenzy can't quite stop the vague look of surprise that flickers within her eyes. Even with that surprise, however, there's whole-hearted agreement from Frenzy. To everything Wanda says. Scott has made his choice and that brings the woman's gaze back to his form. Hanging there, limp, and with a hiss the woman adds, "Be thankful." She states quietly, "You get to live this day because of their benevolence, but their kindness won't last forever. Next time we won't be quite so nice."

And then, just like that, Frenzy flicks her wrist and releases her hold on the man's arm. She seems unconcerned with whether he falls to the ground or manages to catch himself, as she turns heel and strides after Pietro and Wanda.

All that can be said seems to have been said, for now. Pietro's focus turns to stroking a hand through Wanda's hair, hushing his sister's dangerous anger. But there is one thing that makes him pause in his stride.

They're not doing it to us anymore, Scott says.

"Oh… but they are," he answers. He glances back, and his blue eyes smoke with fury. "They mean to kill us all. We might even have told you how."

A glance summons Frenzy, and he turns away again. "No need to concern yourself now. We'll take care of it."

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