Struggling to Find the Past

March 28, 2018:

Lorna and Marcos attempt to trace down parts of Magneto's past, hoping to understand more. Warnings: This is emotionally draining, Lorna and Marcos visit Auschwitz. I have tried to make it as accurate to the actual museum as possible.

Genosha to Auschwitz


NPCs: Old-woman NPC

Mentions: Magneto, Scott, Magnus Family relations


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Perhaps it was the disconnect between the X-men and Lorna for the past few weeks since the ‘coffee mug incident’, as she mentally dubbed the day she walked out of the X-mansion back to Genosha. Perhaps it was the fact that Genosha, was for the first time, nearly at peace. She had a country carved out of blood, sweat, and tears for her daughter. A place that was to be for mutants and by mutants. Where her daughter would never have to be scared of who or what she was.

And she would know her parents. Her grandfather. For better or worse. Lorna was building what she thought to be the right future for her child. But that wasn't to say there weren't hiccups.

Trust your father. Is what Frenzy had told Lorna, and day by day he was slowly earning small pieces of it. Though not entirely. Lorna never fully dropped her guard, though she had slipped several times and called him 'Dad' since moving to Genosh for the past several months. No matter how hard she tried, those walls she'd put up between them were crumbling. With the twin's presence, and confirmed relation, those walls continued to fall. Lorna had mentioned once wanting to track down their mutual family history before.. but well, the twins were in America, leading the Brotherhood. Beating up X-men and causing mayhem.

And Lorna for her part, was stuck with inaction in regards to Darcy and other situations that galled her sense of justice. As the announcement of the Trask collars came out, her mind saw red and rage had consumed her for hours. Something had to be done…

Somehow, that pushed her to do something.. almost passive. Oddly enough, the announcement, after her rage… made Lorna introspective. That morning in Genosha, Lorna asked Marcos to come with her to Poland.

To the town of Oswiecim, Auschwitz.


Of course, while Lorna was -perhaps- starting to trust her father, Marcos would not make such an action, mistake or no. He kept everyone…EVERYONE but Lorna at arms reach, only Lorna had Marcos's full trust and support. and if he ever lost that? His world was going to crumble and crumble -hard-. But…when he had heard that Lorna was still raging and seeing red about the release of Trask Industries collars, Marcos was now trying to find ways to combat against it.

He was in their bedroom, making notes on their holocomputer before Lorna burst in telling him what she wanted to do and if he would come with her. His first thought was '…what?' but Marcos was a supportive and loving husband-to-be. He had no desire to let Lorna go it alone.

So what does he do? He packs a back just in case, slings it over his shoulder, puts on the appropriate gear and he smiles to the love of his life. "Of course I will."


It was a strange leap in logic, to decide to go to the place where she knew her father had lost everything. Where he'd been tortured and tormented. He never spoke about it, the details of his life before or during the war. But she wanted to know. She had to know, what made Magneto. With Genosha's past, she could see the scars, the living scars of what slavery and human deprivation could do to mutants… and with talk of a registry in the US, with new inventions made against their kind..

It had set off thoughts in Lorna that she hated. That perhaps.. her father had a point.

So she sought to understand some small part of what made him, him. What had forced his hand to leave her behind for so long. To abandon her… and she was slowly coming to realize, perhaps after all, it wasn't that he hated her.

That said, she'd decided to go to Auschwitz. She needed to see that place, where her grandparents had died, where her aunt had died, and where her father started on his path. Flowers were brought, and with Marcos at her side, Lorna commandeered a plane from the strip once more and made a highly illegal flight to Poland.


It was certainly a strange leap of logic…considering that the Germans weren't necessarily targeting mutants but just the evil they would commit on their fellow humans..a truly sickening display. Alas, Marcos went with Lorna, hand in hand as she went on this personal journey of self discovery that she needed to take so as to understand her father further. That said, Marcos was more than happy to go with the love of his life.

She supported him in his time of struggle…now it was his turn to support her. They were a team. the best around.

He would have it none other way. He was with her on that plane, his hand reaching for her own to squeeze it tight. "Your gonna see some dark shit, you know. If you want to leave at any point while we're there…let me know, and we'll skip town okay?" he knew she was brave, and his look proved it, but he was gonna be there for her.


Lorna smiled at Marcos, flowers in her lap, just freshly cut from the new gardens outside the Spire. She shook her head, even as the plane touched down outside the town without so much as a jolt of the hovercraft. She shook her head, a more somber expression crossing her features. "No, I have to do this.. I have to see what humans are capable of. Against each other, so I can … so I can never forget what they'll be willing to do to us." She pressed her free hand against the flat of her stomach.

"Their hatred wasn't always for us, but for my family regardless… and I need to see it." She whispered softly, squeezing Marcos' hand as she got up and out of the hovercraft.

It was a short walk into the city, and from there to buy tickets for a bus tour to Auschwitz. It was the major tourist attraction of the place, and there were crowds already there, ready to visit the museum that had come out of the concentration camp.


Marcos nods a few times then to Lorna, his hand in hers, before it slides off and rests on her belly, feeling Aurora where he could. He loved the both of them you know, desperately…ultimately. they were the only things in Marcos's life that truly meant anything. That said? he didn't think twice about staying with her. He nods though. "Humans are capable of some of the darkest things imaginable…so are mutants." he says then referencing people like Zealot.

THere's always someone in the world who just wants to watch it burn…who just wants to make others suffer. Not limited by race or color of their skin." he says then, Marcos knowing full well the evils of the world.

But he shrugs then, walking out of the plane with Lorna's hand in his own as the two walk to the city, ready for a tour of the concentration camp…


"I know, and I need to remember that." She murmured softly, her brows furrowed as she walked toward the ticket booth of the bus tour. She paid with the handy tool of a credit card. American dollars, a punkish looking young woman with green hair, black buttoned up shirt, leather jacket and jeans. Though the flowers seemed to soften the look the woman behind the desk gave her. At least most everyone here seemed to speak English. In fact the bulk of the information was written in both Polish and English.

Lucky them.

The bus ride over was short, and as they pulled up to the bus drop off point, it was.. well.. discordant. There were manicured lawns, another ticket booth, milling tourists, and flowers in the trees. Spring was coming. And it was coming to the brick buildings and wrought iron sign above them.

Lorna felt her stomach drop, but she knew what to expect. How could she not? She'd taken classes, knew the history.. and yet it all seemed like a blur compared to seeing the preserved buildings and fences before her. She squeezed Marcos' hand and led the way to the entrance of the museum..


Marcos nods softly then to Lorna, walking with the punk-rock looking woman while he himself looks moderately dressed. red flannel shirt with a brown jacket over his shoulders, blue jeans, and combat boots. His hand in Lorna's in the entire time as they both looked around, seeing the ticket booth as they both seemed to get by the first one pretty okay. On the bus ride, Marcos ket his eyes on Lorna, whispering sweet nothings into her ear and mild encouragements, just to help strengthen her resolve for being here…

Because he knows full well how difficult this is going to be for her.

He walks with her until they reach that second ticket booth, a single turn of his head as if he could -sense- when the love of his life was feeling unwell, possibly even afraid of what she was going to see. That said? He gives her hand that squeeze in return, kissing her cheek. "Hey…we can do this." he whispers to her, and both of them walk to the museum as Lorna led the way, Marcos smile at his woman as they move, but he keeps to her side…a deep breath though. This was gonna be hard to see for him too.


The tickets for the museum were free, it was an internationally funded museum and heritage site. For better or worse. But there was a line, and Lorna and Marcos sank into it without so much as a backwards glance from anyone. There were plenty of people outside, waiting to get inside and the line moved rapidly. It was free, but tickets were still given as a means of keeping a head count.

A rough exhale and they passed through the entry way and were passed onwards. Lorna kept her grip on Marcos' hand as they walked and she cast her gaze in every direction. Her senses spreading outward… But beyond the usual, the barbed wire and the assorted dropped bits of iron or nickel in the soil.. there wasn't much to sense. It was what it was. The museum of a Death Camp.

A guided tour had started up somewhere up ahead and Lorna slowly trailed along behind, half listening as her head tilted back to look at the signage above.


Marcos walks with Lorna then as they get in that long…massive line. His hand still in hers, his thumb rubbing the back of it affectionately as his eyes looked to her then back forward, he leans in to steal a little kiss from Lorna to help cool whatever nerves were there. It's brief, and it's as loving as the sun on their backs. but now he looked onward, walking into the former nazi death camp.

He kept at her side, looking around to see if there was anything major where they were…aside from, ya know, death camp. Anything that had MAGNETO written all over it or something. graves…anything.

He was there for her after all, so he was gonna help her find anything that he figured would hit her -hard- so she knew exactly what her father went through. "disturbing…" he says after a moment just looking at the camp itself…the horrors that happened behind those walls.


A nod was all that Marcos truly got from her, as her steps slowed at the entrance of a barrack. The guided tour went on, into a place with white walls, giant photographs plastered here and there. Artifacts behind glass and memorialized quotes placed artistically. It was a museum. And Lorna knew what she was looking at was nothing like what her father had ever seen or experienced there.

A faint twitch of her lips followed Marcos' kiss, which she barely seemed to acknowledge otherwise. She stepped inside slowly, and shrugged. "Yeah." Her steps slowed as she filed along behind others to a table in the entryway. A laminated book sat there, and she reached to thumb through it idly. It was a list of prisoners that had died in the barrack. She stepped back, her lips pursed as she let the laminated list fall back.

It wasn't a list that she'd find her family name on. None of her relatives had died in a barrack she thought. That much she'd managed to figure out from grave hints and stories her father had told her. Nothing screamed Magneto there, but she walked down the room's length regardless, into another room with an idle pace.


Marcos smiles softly though to her even though she accepted the kiss, this was her time now..and he was fairly hands off the rest of the way. Keeping at her heel so that she could lead the way…he knew this was going to change her in one way or another…he could only hope that it was for the better, and not for the worse. However way you look at it, he follows her as he looks around, the laminated books, the torn up barracks that have somehow survived untouched throughout the years.

A deep sigh escaped him. People suffered here….people suffered beyond imagining here. The evils that occured in this place….unspeakable.

He looks around then, but keeps his hand in Lorna's, not straying too far.


Through one barrack, to another, just as rebuilt and repurposed for the point of education. The whole place was clean. Bright. With windows that opened up to a courtyard of manicured cobblestone and Lorna paused to look out at the brick buildings beyond. "It's too nice. I mean… it's.. they kept everything, but .. it's nothing like the pictures. Where it's all muddy.. and .." She broke off, looking at Marcos.

"Is it horrible of me to expect.. that?" She shook her head and continued onwards into another room. She'd been stone faced, unbothered at the mountains of hair they passed by behind glass. Canisters of empty Zyklon B. Luggage..

And she stilled as the crowds parted and left them before a case of baby clothes. Of little hand knitted boots, of coats and tiny bonnets. Lorna stilled, her features going slack. Her hand's grip on the flowers she'd brought broke entirely and they dropped to the wooden floor. "Oh.."

A flutter of Lorna's eyes and suddenly there was a wetness there, trickling down her cheeks.

She was crying.


Marcos looks around then before Lorna gets his attention, which he nods a few times. "Yeah….I don't think there's any comparison to this. How many would guess?" he asks then, looking around at how clean it was….before he looks and sees the hair gathered behind that class…a sadness on his face when he sees the Zyklon B. Luggage…a shake of his head then before he pauses then at her side as she does, he sees the look on her face as she dropped the flowers to the floor, her eyes showing her weeping openly.

Marcos pulled her closer to him and wrapped his arm around her, holding her close to him in a comforting hug. "I know…I know." he says then, resting his head in the nook of her shoulder, holding her close as he knows -exactly- what she was thinking of when she saw that pile of baby clothes.

The evil that was going on here….as previously stated….was unspeakable.


The baby clothes had moved her when nothing else had. Her mind choked on repeat. 'It could be my baby. That could be my baby. They could do this to my baby.' Her mind seemed to fixate on that thought, over and over again. On some horrible replay as she stared and others simply walked around the couple as Marcos wrapped his arms around her.

She leaned against him heavily, and fought the urge to cry and failed.

A moment, or was it longer, passed and a little old lady came up, picking up the flowers and handing them to Marcos. She offered a sad, glance toward him. "The children, always I cry when I think on them too." Her voice cracked, and as Lorna pulled back to blink at the elderly woman, she offered the green haired mutant a handkerchief. The green haired magnokinetic accepted it, wiped at her eyes and straightened, though she didn't pull back from Marcos' arms entirely.

"Thanks." Lorna sniffled. The woman smiled again, and nodded to her.

"For this.. it is okay to cry, yes?" She reached out and patted Lorna's arm gently, with wrinkled hands. On her wrist.. a string of numbers tattooed there, visible. Lorna stared and the old woman chuckled softly. As she noted it.


Marcos knew this was gonna hit her -hard-. It hit him hard too….but Lorna fell from the hit, emotionally speaking. His heart wrenched after seeing that pile of baby clothes, before they are aided in part by an elderly looking woman who offers Lorna a handkerchief as Lorna hugged Marcos and he hugged her back. "Thank you, ma'am." he says softly to the older woman.

Then soon enough, his eyes fell on the older woman's number on her wrist….was she here. It's evident as he looked at her wrist, before he looks around. "Forgive me for asking ma'am..but were you…?" he gestures to her then to where they were, as if asking in a polite manner if she was a prisoner here.


Lorna watched, picking up the flowers and smoothing her hands over them. Looking at the old woman, Lorna was struck suddenly with how old Magneto was. He didn't look like he was nearly one hundred years old. He looked better built than most twenty somethings. Powerful. She knew it was because of his ties to the magnetic fields, knew it the same way that.. that was her future as well. Her ties to the fields.. how long would she live, naturally? How old would she get? Would she outlive Marcos? Would she look like she did now? While Marcos… he would age, normally, wouldn't he?

Lorna was suddenly struck by just how old, one hundred years looked on a person. And she swallowed a thick lump at the back of her throat. The old woman didn't so much as glance at the number on her wrist, though she rubbed it absent mindedly. A wrinkled hand reached out to pat Marcos and Lorna on the back, and the woman nodded as she steered them along, away from the baby clothes and out the door slowly.

"Nu? Oh yes.. I was here for six months. My sister and I." She seemed to lose her train of thought for a moment, taking her time to step down the stairs. "Now, I watch the curators. So artful they make things. Too clean." She tsk'ed under her breath and shook her head, adjusting her glasses and turning watery brown eyes on Marcos and Lorna.

The green haired mutant blinked, glancing back toward Marcos with a lofting of her eyebrow but followed along besides the old woman. "You wouldn't know if I could look up where my family was here, do you?" She asked softly, and the old woman's expression softened once more. Her gaze dropping to the flowers and back to Lorna and she seemed to make up her mind on something.

"American?" A nod and she continued to slowly walk to another building. "Yes, yes, they have data base. Replacing all the books now, so very clever.." She grumbled, but nodded to the building she came to a halt before. She reached up and took hold of Lorna's hand in her own wrinkly one once more.


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