Matrimonial Issues

September 17, 2018:

Marcos returns to the mansion, with more than a few marriage problems. Warning for Kissing and relationship stuff.


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

To say that Lorna had been off since her return from Genosha was an understatement. Right away, she’d dragged away any hints or remnants that remained that signified that a baby ever lived in their shared room. Clothes, diapers, bottles, toys and the crib were gone. Donated or stored away in the attic.

The second day back, Lorna spent all day out shopping. When she’d returned, she’d promptly moved all of her things out of the room that she shared with her husband to the room that Rogue recently vacated. All without a word to Marcos. She couldn’t stomach looking him in the eye, couldn’t stand being in the same space as him. Sure he had forgiven her, but she felt the guilt for what she had done. It ripped and tore at her, for having broken his heart. She said she needed space for a while.. But it had been a while.

And space wasn’t helping.

Lorna spent most of her time out of the mansion, away from others. Her fashion sense had done a 180. Gone were all the chains and leather and ripped jeans. Now replaced with high fashion, expensive name brand goods, and imported leather shoes. Bags and bags littered the space she’d taken over. She got hair appointments, nails, brows. She went out at night, dressed to the nines and came back late if she came back at all.

Never mind the gossip that raged on the internet. Magneto’s daughter sighted outside of a nightclub in NYC. Magneto’s daughter, no, no, Polaris argued others, had pinned two guys to the ceiling in an upscale bar for spilling their drinks on her. There was a buzz about the gossip mongers and tabloids all over the green haired mutant. Mutant hatred and the fear of her father comingled with her ties to the X-men and her rather ‘passable’ appearance as human to make a rather juicy mix for the internet.

Of course, then was the gossip within the Mansion. More than a few whispers carried that Lorna was split from Marcos. That Lorna had started seeing someone else. That the two had knock out drag out fights (they hadn’t). And that Lorna’s ex-boyfriend Bobby Drake was around again. Though that included the newest rumors that Loran’s Ex was in fact gay.

Suffice to say, without actually sitting down and talking, the rumors were vicious and spreading by the day.

Today found the green haired woman in her newly acquired bedroom, the door was thrown open and more shopping bags of various upscale brand names littering the room. Lorna floated on the tips of her toes, heels dragging against the floor every so often as she spun or bent to grab a piece of fallen or forgotten clothing that littered the bed and floor around her. Clearly, she was having difficulty in figuring out what to wear.

Well….Lorna wasn’t the only one having a terrible time with this. When Marcos entered his room one day to find Lorna was asking for ‘space’? This wasn’t…exactly a welcome that screamed ‘I know this is a hard time, but we’ll stick together, don’t worry’. In fact, it might as well have been a breakup in the wording that Lorna had put it.

Marcos was distraught.

Especially when he heard the news that Lorna was hanging out with other guys a little too much than what would be normally acceptable for a married couple. He noticed multiple things. She likely wasn’t wearing her wedding ring again, which was the ultimate blow to Marcos’s heart.

But…alas, Marcos had just gone off to…be himself. He fell off the radar.

When Lorna asked? He was nowhere to be seen.

Eventually, however, Marcos turned back up at the Mansion and simply went to their…his, room and simply shut the door behind him. He sat down on the floor, leaning against one of the walls. If someone was serving as an ear for Lorna, she’d know that Marcos had come home.

She wasn’t the only one having a fit about the whole thing. This had undoubtedly caused a rift to form between them since Lorna had decided to inevitably and invariably go off to party and buy clothes instead of working towards the problem.

It pissed off Marcos in more ways than he could even bear to think.

How would Lorna react?

If this kept up, could they even be under the same roof together?

Lorna had every intention of avoiding Marcos as she had done for the past few weeks. There was no intent in her mind to see him. To face those sad brown eyes, to see the wounded look and know that she had put it there. To know that she’d broken his heart repeatedly and stamped on it… It tore at her psyche and tore at her dreams. She didn’t sleep easily anymore. Didn’t do anything easily anymore besides lose her cool and snap at people.

Which is likely why Logan had attempted to take her out of the house and buy her ice cream at some point in the past week. The man had somehow fallen into a sort of father-figure role to the young mutant and she’d found herself going along with it.

The green haired mutant made her way out, finally settling on some sheer button-up blouse that showed off the silken orange and lacey tank underneath. A dark green pair of slacks with far too many buttons curled around the pockets. And a white leather purse and matching pumps completed the look. Marching down the hallway, Lorna froze as she came by their once shared room and sensed Marcos’ presence on the other side of the door.

She swallowed a lump that formed in her throat, as she stood there, staring and frozen. Her hand reached out before she knew what she was doing and turned the knob without thinking about it. An automatic gesture… But her mind caught up to the movement then, and panic struck her.

How could she just walk into the room and talk to him? See him? How could she? As if she had any right to act as she had?

The door creaked open, leaving Marcos the sight of one Lorna Dane standing there, staring down at her hand in utter shock and mild horror.

Marcos had eventually stood up to move to the bed, setting out his clothes for the day. Simple stuff, as plain as Marcos was in a fashion sense. Most people probably wondered why Lorna married Marcos in the first place. Every time Lorna dresses, she makes a statement. Marcos? The only statement he makes is that he can be trusted and he can blend in without drawing too much attention.

Though Marcos then felt Lorna on the other side of that door, and even he felt a small piece of panic. He said nothing though as the two just….stared at each other. Marcos approached her…then stopped in the doorway.

Looking his wife right in the eyes, even if she wouldn’t meet his.

Though…perhaps his reaction once again wasn’t quite what she would’ve expected. Did her actions hurt him? Of course. But he wouldn’t be able to truly love her if he didn’t expose himself to every lash she could ever inflict upon him.

His hand reached out to take her own, and pull her into his embrace. And if she allowed? A kiss touched her lips.

She was his wife. No matter what she did. Their souls bound in what may be a life of pain and heartache…or of defeat and triumph.

Lorna expected to be yelled at. To have the door slammed in her face or flat out ignored. She expected anger, it was rightly justified. She expected to be called out on her behavior in the simplest of terms. To have Marcos shout or scream or throw something possibly. To have him hate her and leave her.

Because in her mind’s eye she hated herself for what she’d done. And in her self-destructive haste to do whatever her father suggested. Just to stop thinking about Marcos for five blessed minutes.

She was still standing there frozen when Marcos walked up to her. Her gaze angled low, even if she couldn’t make her feet move. Couldn’t seem to remember how to move. His hands, the gentle movement, and warm touch broke whatever resistance was there in the line of her shoulders. Her figure once more melted against his. As heat to steel.

When he kissed her, tears trickled from her eyes, her eyes that had fluttered closed as she leaned most of her weight against his figure and exhaled a shuddering breath that rolled through her chest and spine.

The splash of water against her cheeks surprised her, and she reached up, blinking as she rubbed at the edges of her eyes and smeared mascara and eyeliner beneath her fingertips. “Marcos…” Her words floundered and broke as she met his gaze.

Would words really ever do justice to how beautiful this moment could be seen as?

As Marcos pulled her to him, he kissed her with the love of a thousand stars. His arms wrapping around her form to pull her even closer, which he seemed happy that her form seemed to melt against his own.

But then again, he was always the heat to her steel. The light to her darkness. The joy to her sadness.

When they finally pulled away from each other, Marcos simply let his forehead touch her own, remaining close to her. “You don’t have to say anything. I know. Your actions lately hurt…a lot…but, you have your own way of coping. Just like I have my own way of coping.” His hands reached down to claim her own in his, creating that aurora borealis around their forms.

“I’ll always be with you,” He whispers softly to her ear before he looks her right in the eyes. “Will you move in with me again?” he gestures to the room in question, noting that it was now significantly lacking Lorna’s things, though his thumb does rise to wipe the tears from Lorna’s eyes.

The light faded as Lorna slowly grasped at some measure of control over the well of emotions that stormed through her. The swirling purples and greens fading as she made to try to disentangle their hands. Green eyes dropped again as she sucked in desperate gulps of air as Marcos rubbed his thumb against the smear of tears and makeup.

“I love you, Marcos. But… I can’t. I need, I’m not …” Her voice cracked, her hand moving to cover her lips as she shook her head. “You don’t know who I am anymore. We want different things, Marcos.” She whispered, her voice choked.

The unsanctioned missions. Killing Genoshan refugees. Her father telling her to betray the X-men. To side with him. To protect her daughter. It was all building up into a horrible mixture of toxicity and secrets that she’d kept from him.

Her figure leaned heavily against him, burying her features against his shoulder as she inhaled deeply and wrapped her arms around his waist rather suddenly. She couldn’ t help it. He was there and warm and—thoughts became jumbled. She desperately wanted to find comfort in his embrace again. Wanted to go back to the times when there’d been no secrets between them. If she closed her eyes and just held on tight.

She could almost imagine that she was back to months ago. Before their lives had been so horribly twisted by other’s designs.

Maybe by now, Lorna could see how Magneto played his own daughter into his hand. Now he had their daughter, no doubt to be raised as one of his many pawns in his grand scheme to try and turn the world into a world of just mutants. But that was just Marcos' inner thoughts and worries…

And he believed full well her father was an evil man. Willing to do anything and everything to further his own agenda.

Even if it meant turning his own flesh and blood into the same monster he was.

Though even Marcos was a little surprised that Lorna just wrapped her arms around his waist and just buried her face in his shoulder. He took a small breath, and held her close, resting his head on her own.

She’d feel it all again.

His warmth…his light…his heat. His love. One of his hands curling into her hair to massage her scalp and offer her comfort. “What are you talking about? No matter what you do, I’ll still be by your side. Just as I pray you’ll still be by mine.” he looks her in the eyes then.

Then he looks at her clothes.

“You’re dressed nice.”

Her figure remained to clutch at him, sighing heavily against the fabric of his shirt, her eyes shut as he ran his fingers through her hair. Which had gotten long, and she’d let it go, curls tumbling between his fingers. His questions merely earned a small shake her head, and she squeezed him tightly before she drew back to look him in the eye.

His complement earned a faint ghost of a smile, that flickered and died soon after. “Thanks..” She glanced down at what she’d thrown on, her lips twisting into a grimace. All bought with Magneto’s money.

For reasons she still didn’t get it.

“You look uhm..” Her gaze dropped to his clothing, the same practical, soft. Green eyes flickered back up to him, and her hand reached up to drag against his jawline. Her other hand fingered against the hem of his shirt, running the fabric between her thumb and index finger.

“You look like you always do..” She whispered softly.

Marcos held her tightly against him, hand still feeling out her long hair. Though he didn’t seem to mind what she did with the Master of Magnetism’s cash.

But she looked beautiful. No doubt in his mind about that.

With a smile, he chuckles a little bit as he felt her hand glide along his jawline just as she did all the time just a month ago. Where they were at peace. It was clear that he liked her touch…but even as he felt her thumb and index finger gliding along the hem of his shirt, his hand once again reached up to caress her cheek and the other arm wrapping around her waist to pull her back closer.

“I always try to look my best in my own personal fashion.” He whispers, before attempting to press those lips to hers once more. Perhaps showing her that he was still hers…and she was still his.

They had been divided long enough.

Green eyes flickered back up to consider Marcos, her brows furrowing as a flicker of a smile came to life on her lips. “It’s not a bad thing..” She murmured, even as he drew her close once more. His fingertips that brushed against her cheek and were rewarded with her leaning into his touch. A rough exhale following as he whispered against his lips and kissed her.

Her figure leaned against him, arms slowly rising to wrap around his shoulders and leaning into his kiss, breathlessly. Her eyes fluttered closed as she pressed close against him until there was no room between them.

She let the moment linger for a moment, before she leaned back, pressing a hand against the edge of his lips. Her eyes were sad, her eyebrows pinched as she met his gaze. “I love you Marcos, I want to protect you. To make sure that you're safe. You’re my family too.” Her voice as soft, barely above a whisper. “You’re home.” Her voice cracked faintly.

She seemed to struggle for words, for what to say beyond that. Words were hard, letting his hands roam against her skin and to pull her close? That was easy. To fold herself against his arms and love him. That was easier still.

And yet just as painful

Marcos’s brown eyes look back to her as she smiled. Lorna might not know it, but she had the most beautiful smile in the world. “No, no it’s not..” And then their lips pressed together, his arms wrapping tighter around her waist as he held her tightly against him, enjoying every single second of the kiss as if their hearts were slowly reunited.

She was his lifeline. His reason for living. His wife. His love. Without her, he’d probably be dead by now…and maybe vice versa. Though as the kiss lingered, deepening briefly, he pulls away just as she does to look upon her, his hand reaching up to caress her hair and cheek.

“I love you too Lorna. I know you did….I was trying to protect you too. You’re my family.” He looked upon her, resting his forehead against her own as she folded herself back into his loving embrace.

“Stay with me. Come back to me.” Marcos looks around to the room, implying that they move back in together.

The cold nights spent alone. Dragging herself to bed after hours spent out. She’d run all over the place. From tracking down the humans that had kidnapped Remy. To helping to track down and kill Genoshan scientists that had experimented on their kind. She hadn’t stopped. Hadn’t allowed herself to stop. She’d kept going, constantly, and it showed in the darker shadows that ringed her eyes and in the tension that lived in her shoulders.

For all the posh and fashionably new and expensive clothes, it was simply a shiny new cover to hide the same old problems that had always plagued her. She was more like her father in that respect than she’d ever wish to acknowledge.

Lorna leaned back, watching Marcos with a twist of her lips. Her brows furrowed as she raked her gaze over his features. “I..” She swallowed the dryness that formed in the back of her throat. She wanted to desperately tell him what she’d been up to. But at the same time, though at least, if she didn’t tell him… she might pretend that they still believed much the same things as they had before.

They’d been a team, in more than in just name. When had her own beliefs and outlooks on the world changed so much that she no longer believed that?

Slowly, she shook her head. “I can’t Marcos.” Her voice cracked slightly, and it was clear that it pained her to tell him no. “I love you, and I miss you. But I just.. I can’t move back into the room. I don’t know if I can ever go back to that room.” It hurt. It was a room filled with memories. Memories that haunted her and stamped pain throughout her mind. Happy as many of those memories were.. It was a reminder what she'd given up.

“We could try something different. I.. I just..” She struggled to articulate the emotions that clogged her throat and stole her breath and found herself floundering.


Marcos knew Lorna better than anyone. Likely even better than her own father and even more than their friends. Whatever it is she thinks she’s done, Marcos has probably done significantly worse when he was in the Cartel. Resident pyromaniac. Enjoyed burning people’s houses to the ground when they were still inside. What’s murder?

Regardless, he knows how broken and how much of a mess Lorna is inside. Her heart a mess of shattered glass. But, Marcos lifted his hands to wipe any tears from her eyes. “Lorna…what happened when I was away?” They always made an agreement. No secrets. They tell each other everything. They were married after all.

But when she seemed to deny moving back in with him, to avoid the room that held all their highs and their lows, he seemed to be sad. “Then let me stay with you in your room until we’re ready to come back.” He seems to offer her that impasse.

His heart needed Lorna.

He couldn’t stand to be apart from her any longer.

A sigh and Lorna drew back, her hands seeking out to capture his own and draw them close oh so gently. Her thumb brushed over his, green eyes lowering in thought. She had secrets, a mountain of them. More than she could tell in an afternoon now. She’d kept so much from him, either because she thought she was protecting him, or because the separation she’d put between them was the natural result.

“Enough has been happening Marcos, read the reports. Remy was kidnapped and tortured and sold to the highest bidder on the black market. Some company bought and sold mutants for experiments on how to make powered humans. A bunch of anti-mutant protestors tried to attack us at the last protest. There are collars, and sentinels, and the Registration laws are coming.” She snorted and rolled her eyes, shaking her head slowly.

“What happened? What’s been happening all over..” Her voice dropping low, and thick with emotion. She didn’t mention a single thing that the X-men didn’t already know. That Marcos wouldn’t have access to. It all smoothly fell from her as she held back just how fragile her grip on ‘fine’ was.

His offer to move into the room she’d taken when Rogue left gave her pause. A beat, her gaze flickering back to him and her brows pinched. She met those warm brown eyes of his and felt her heart clench.

“Tonight. We can.. We can try that.” She breathed.

Marcos looks Lorna in the eyes as she tells him the entire details. These were things Marcos already knew were happening, so he doesn’t look surprised. “I know,” he says it a few times as she keeps talking and talking. But it still doesn’t mean it’s the end of the bloody world. Doesn’t mean Cable was right. Doesn’t mean anything was set in stone.

But he seems to just look at Lorna in the eyes, nodding, wrapping his arms around Lorna as she tells him that they can try just staying together in a room for a night at the least. “Alright, then we’ll try that.” he smiles to her before he becomes dreadfully serious.

He seemed like the same Marcos. The same Marcos determined to get their child back. The same Marcos who wanted to live in peace. The same Marcos who didn’t need to be a hero to function. Even if she decided to ignore all of her problems.

Instead, he just held his wife, before he tiredly started to sit down..and slump to the floor. He’d been EXHAUSTED. Moving 24/7 without stopping, trying to find leads as to where their child was…to find leads on Trask and the factories where collars were being made.

He was tired.

“Lorna…where’s our daughter…?”

Was the last thing he said before his eyes seem to almost will themselves shut. His body finally telling and forcing him to rest.

Lorna didn’t seem convinced that Marcos was well and truly satisfied with her answer, not even as he held onto her.. And suddenly dropped to the ground in boneless exhaustion. Her eyes went wide, eyebrows lurching upwards as she struggled to slow his descent to the floor.

“Marcos? Marcos?” She tried to ease his collapse, shaking his shoulders as she cradled him and tried to wake him back up.

His last question made her stare. Her skin pale and pinched, eyebrows furrowing sharply. Of course, he asked. After all this time, he'd never truly given up. Never truly respected or understood why she had done what she had done.

“I don’t know..” She whispered, smoothing her hand against his forehead as she raised her voice to get some help taking Marcos to the med bay to be looked at.

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