Sibling Concern

May 12, 2018:

Pietro comes to visit Lorna while she's in jail.

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

The Westchester jail was small, upscale and oddly pristine in appearance. When the local houses were all over 100k and above, it meant that even the local jail was rather picture perfect as well. At least as far as jails went. There were a few gray painted cells, mostly empty down two corridors. One for men and one for women. It was clearly not meant to be a long term establishment, merely a holding facility that would either keep their prisoners a few days and let them go, or pass them onto more capable facilities.

It was here that the three X-men had been taken and held over night. Scott Summers had been released fairly fast, he hadn't 'done' anything to merit an investigation and had been released in the early hours of the morning. Lorna and Rogue in turn had been held separately and for considerably longer. Rogue because she had knocked a door off its hinges and smashed glass, which the owners hadn't pressed charges on, which too led to her earlier release.

Which left one Lorna Dane. The green haired mutant had dismantled the cop's gun on instinct, and as a result.. they were trying to figure out whether or not it counted as assault of a police officer. Which came with actual jail time. The X-men's lawyers and political forces that they were, left a considerable political axe to come down if necessary.. and considering that the cop who had drawn the gun in the first place… well, he was a mutant hating bigot that was taking time off now.

The situation regarding Lorna Dane was fuzzy for the moment. Which meant she remained behind. They didn't exactly know much about her powers, though the handcuffs had come off while she was behind bars. Metal bars. The whole facility wasn't equipped to deal with a magnokinetic if she wanted to walk out of there, she very well could at any moment. But for now, she wore a pair of scrubs of violent orange and sat miserably on the lumpy bed she was stuck with.

Waiting.

*

It's a placid evening, all told, considering it's an evening of 'being in lockup.' The precinct isn't exactly designed to hold mutants, so the incarceration of the three was really more of a token gesture. Now, it's just a waiting game as the X-Men exercise their considerable clout to get their own freed. It's a boring way to spend a night, all told. Well, up until —

There's no real warning. One moment it's still as death, and the next a sudden draft gusts down the hall outside Lorna's cell. A flare of silver streaks past unsuspecting guards, traveling past their line of sight during the time their eyes are closed to blink. The door rattles, briefly vibrating so fast the naked human eye loses track of it. When it settles again, it's still closed — but now, unlocked.

Unlocked, because Lorna now has company.

"What an interesting bit of news," says Lorna's (half) brother, seated on the floor in the opposite corner as Lorna's prison bed. Pietro looks as comfortable as if he was sitting in state, on a throne; the floor of a Westchester prison is probably luxurious compared to some places he's had to bunk. "I just heard, ten minutes ago. Not the details, but…"

He trails, frowning at her scrubs. "Orange does not go with your hair."

*

Lorna was busy, busy counting and recounting the number of tiles on the ceiling. What else could she do? There was no TV, books, or cell phones for entertainment. The fact that she was still there, when she had only planned to go to the music store and back was troubling. Irritating and troubling. Not that she had a doubt she'd be released.. eventually.. right?

It wasn't like there were any warrants out for her arrest. Though doubtlessly thanks to her wedding, when the cops ran her name in the system some rather interesting notes cropped up. Mostly in regards to who's daughter she was, and doubtlessly several warnings.

But this facility wasn't prepared for her, or any mutant for that matter. So keeping her for much longer was highly unlikely either way.

Still. It was boring. And—

The gust of wind and the sight of her older half sibling made Lorna jump, her teeth set on edge as she stared at Pietro with a stunned expression. Which faded quickly as she released a string of curses. At least there was no longer a solid cast on her leg? It had been replaced with a walking boot.

She groaned, and dragged her hands over her features. "Pietro." She peeked between her fingers at him. "What are you doing here?" A frown was cast down at the bright orange scrubs and she snorted, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, no kidding. Remind me never to become a redneck hunter. Yeah?"

*

Lorna's reaction, her startled cursing, might well be worth the (two minute) trip up to Westchester just on its own. Pietro grins, and not in an especially nice way, the expression flashing white teeth. His lean body curled, arms slung over his knees, he has a restless, cagey energy about him today: much more so than the last few times Lorna has seen him. The wild swings between manic energy and brooding might well be hereditary.

What is he doing here?

In answer, he twirls a set of keys around his index finger. Slowly, for the first two rotations, then so fast they blur. After a moment, his hand snaps shut on them, declaratively, and his grin turns half sly, half malignant.

"A bunch of X-Men in prison," he says. "Now there's a surprise. I don't suppose any of you were firing eye-lasers or whatnot? The media is painting a very unflattering picture. I was interested in the truth of the matter."

He lifts a shoulder. "I also thought I'd come laugh at Scott Summers."

*

Lorna snorted and rolled her eyes once more at her sibling, and crossed her arms as she tucked her legs beneath her and settled more firmly on the thin mattress. The bed beneath creaking with her every movement. Sleep really hadn't happened since she'd gotten there, though she wished she could. Sleep was difficult even in the best of circumstances. Being in the middle of a manic low point, she tended to laze about in bed, unable to sleep while staring at the ceiling for hours. Caught between needing to sleep and having her mind pelt everything at her constantly.

Genetics indeed.

Still she watched him twirl the keys around with an arch of her brows, and a slow shake of her head. She could catch them easily, but why bother trying to stop Pietro?

"We were at the music store, Scott wanted CDs, lame, I know. Some new clerk apparently hates mutants, followed me around the store. Called the cops on us. Scott was cool with leaving, Rogue and I less so. The cops got jumpy when she smashed the door and a few windows by accident on her way out. One of 'em drew a gun. I made the gun go away.. and we all got arrested by a bunch of scared humans." She laughed briefly, and it was bitter.

"You missed Scott by hours. He got released pretty quickly once they reviewed the body cams." She huffed a breath, propping up her chin with a hand.

*

"See…" Pietro points the keys at Lorna. "That's where you were correct. Why should any of you have left, just because some flatscans couldn't handle being around their betters?" He flips the keys around again, as if fully aware Lorna is thinking about snatching them away. "The more you let them push you around, the more they'll do it."

The keys still in his hands, Pietro looks abruptly deadly serious. "And for what? We might as well be pushed around by an anthill. Why are we giving way? You could pull down this place in five minutes. I just walked in without any of them knowing. Turned off every camera on my way. I will walk back out, just as easily… and they will all still be alive when I do, because I choose for them to be."

He shrugs impatiently. "I can hope it's something you can make the X-Men see. In time. If not, they will help these humans put collars on us by giving them the impression we'll just sit and take it."

Being told he missed Scott by hours puts an annoyed look on his face. It's obvious he's not used to missing things, ever, much less by hours. "And you are still here?" he says, displeasure cold in his eyes as he glances around the cell.

He rises abruptly to his full height. "Perhaps you should think about why you stay."

*

Lorna let Pietro speak, and continue to twirl the keys around. She was learning that her older sibling needed to say his piece or she'd never get a word in edge wise. He was faster than her after all. "This place isn't that big and there's a lot of metal. It wouldn't take me five minutes if I really wanted to leave, Pietro." She drawled and looked half amused.

Still, she shifted on the bed and heaved a sigh. She didn't try to argue about why she stayed, why she waited, why she didn't tear the place apart and walk out on her own. She figured it wouldn't matter all that much anyways. (Never mind that some part of her was increasingly questioning the very same things.)

"Rogue and Scott got released before me because neither of them have an international tag on their record as being known to the world through Genosha.." She drawled and shrugged. "Plus Scott didn't actually do anything." She mused and crossed her legs as she considered her older sibling as he rose.

"Also, I wanted to pass word along to you. Trask is torturing mutants, more than usual? He's implanting them with machine parts. There was a body that was mostly dead and rotten, held together by machinery. They attacked the house, screaming 'Brotherhood' but they definitely weren't." She pursed her lips together. Scott had told her to not warn her sibling, but she thought it was important. Far more important than playing disagreements over philosophical ideals. This was beyond the X-men or Brotherhood in her mind. This was a threat to mutant-kind.

*

There are ways to handle Pietro Maximoff, if one cares to learn them. Realizing he is an egomaniac and therefore needs to be given space to listen to the sound of his own voice is the first step on that path. Besides, if he wanted to, he could in fact talk far faster than she can if he wants to just utterly drown her out.

But there are things Lorna can do, too. Pietro lifts his brows as she says it wouldn't take five minutes if she really wanted to leave. "I suppose not," he says, giving the decidedly metal bars a rap. "Stupid of them, really. The average flatscan has no idea how to handle us."

Her answer about the Genosha matter, while true… "That's not really an answer to 'why you are still here,'" he says, his silver head tilted, sharp blue eyes — so like their father's — studying her. If Lorna doesn't particularly want to engage his final query — why stay willingly in a prison made of metal, put there by bigoted humans? — he doesn't press her to. Everyone makes their own choices.

He merely rises with his typical fluidity. While his sisters might have been gifted with more esoteric mind-over-matter powers, his are purely physical. His mutation has given him the grace of movement that comes of a perfectly efficient, maximized physicality. He turns, but pauses as Lorna says she has word to pass along.

What she has to tell him tightens the line of his shoulders. Maiming and experimenting on mutants, then using them in order to try to smear the name of the Brotherhood with false attacks? Using them to attack the Institute, which — whatever their ideological differences — is a place where mutant children live?

Eventually, he nods. "No," he says. "We definitely had no part in such a thing. And we'll make him bleed for this."

*

A lean back against the cement of the wall behind her, the coolness bleeding through the thin fabric of the scrubs and Lorna shrugged once. "I don't really have an answer other than, I am currently still living in Westchester, for the moment.. and really don't want to go on the run with a baby." She sighed, "I doubt they'll do much to me anyways. The X-men have political power enough that I'll get released eventually.." She murmured, and she really, really, hoped she was right in that regard.

Because as time dragged on, she wasn't so certain about that.

Still, it was a half answer. She had options. A great deal of options. Even if she did go on the run with the baby.. "If I'm being entirely honest.. I dunno." She shook her head briefly and dragged her hands through her hair. "I'm still working that out." A glance, green eyed gaze against his own ice blue and she offered him a sardonic smile. If Pietro knew, their father knew that she was here.. and well, that would definitely not go over well for anyone if they decided to well and truly lock her up.

The smile faded as he processed what she had to say about the attack on the mansion and she nodded. Her lips thinning into a fine line. "I know. No on there thought for a second that it was actually the Brotherhood. We got a few scraps that are being checked over to see what happened.. but it was grim, Pietro. Really bad. I saw things like it in Genosha. There was a mutant in one of the Magistrate's bunkers.. he was fused with Sentinel technology. I think they're trying to do something similar again here." She exhaled a breath, and closed her eyes briefly.

"I doubt that Trask figured it out on their own. They must have taken in some of those Genoshan refugees.." She made a face and glanced back at him. "Let me know if you need anything to take them out. I'll be there if you need me."

*

Pietro pauses visibly, as Lorna reminds of the first and foremost reason she stays. The reason for which she abstains from taking a harder stance on simply flouting human law. "I forgot," he says eventually. It is an sincere remark for once, not sardonic and not biting. "Yes. You are safest with the X-Men." Lorna might have doubts about it all, but her brother states that with his typical confident certainty. "Still, I wish there was more they were doing with that political power."

But he listens in silence as Lorna relates what happened with the fake Brotherhood and the attack on the mansion. Fury flints to life in his blue eyes at the idea of mutants being torn apart, put back together, sewn into horrific experimental shapes. Any time he hears of any of this, he's thinking about it being done to Wanda…

"They tried to pit us against one another," Pietro assesses bluntly. "Poorly. And that is a waste of their time. The X-Men and Brotherhood are already pitted against one another, so long as they hate our methods, and we despise theirs. Our end goal is the same, so we have not come to blows yet." His profile, lit harshly by the prison lights, briefly seems quite familiar. It is evident Magneto's son has more than just his look. "But someday, we will disagree on the means."

As for the defectors? His eyes narrow. "They cheated their proper fate once. They won't a second time." He says tellingly little about her wish to help, perhaps still cleaving to his insistence she should stay low while she remains a target. The sun rises and sets, the moon waxes and wanes, and Pietro keeps his sisters and charges over-protected: so long as they're in his favor, anyway. Some things are constant.

Instead, Pietro just heads towards the door. "I'm not our father," he says, folding the keys back into his palm. "I won't force you. You choose what to do."

With a flicker of silver light, he disappears. The door is left shut, but unlocked.

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