1963-12-01 - Chess, Checkers, and Knives
Summary: Lorna spots Seth and tries to be huffy, he insults her heritage, and she uses her powers in her annoyance.
Related: Seth and Lorna logs
Theme Song: None
lorna seth 

The city had a flow. Those that mastered it could weave from borough to adjacent neighborhood, gliding across all of Manhattan without every purchasing subway fair. This was fortunate, as the bundled up youth puffing on a cigarette whilst he strolled down 64th street did not appear to possess a cent for such civil responsibilities. The moldering wool was drab in color, moth eaten and fraying in more places than could be counted and thus layered to ward away the chill. Winter had settled in New York, and the occasional snow flurrying through the air but refusing to blanket the ground brought a whirl of steam on every exhale and a flush to his cheeks that others of a more festive mind would refer to as Holiday Cheer.

Eventually his step darted sideways into Mid-Central Park with a purpose that suggested a destination, taking a side path and then another until finally coming upon the Chess and Checkers House where he settled into a bench at an empty table. Pulling free a cigarette and lighting it with a practiced flick of a lighter, he drew out a small bag that proved to be full of chess pieces and began to set them out on either side of the empty board in preparation for an opponent that didn't seem to be apparent.


New Yorkers seemed to be a special brand of crazy, or perhaps, apathetic in certain ways. Maybe it was just that they were unflappable. But after the Hellmouth, and the green monster that was the Hulk, and the strange beam of light that had shot up through the sky all happening in Central Park, people were still willing to visit. Still willing to trek through the park and use the surroundings despite these repeated threats and dangers that had occurred there.

Lorna for her part, looked somewhat wary, but willing to cut through the chess area on her way back to the dorms. The Frost Institute wasn't too far away, and while that freaked her out after the vampire had attacked her, she felt more confident now in regards to her powers. (If only slightly)

But it made a difference. So she walked along with her arms filled with a few gifts for Christmas, shifting her grip on a bag as she idly glanced over at the Chess and Checker house in passing and her gaze caught sight of the homeless youth she had run into before.

A determined light grew in her gaze and she shifted her destination and entered to plop down on the bench opposite of him. "Glad to see you're alive and in fact, not playing chicken with cars again."


At first, the youth looked up with a flicker of welcome in his gaze, something warm and pleasant to the smile even as it faltered on his lips and his head turned to one side in quandary. His tongue slipped out to wet chapped and cracking lips, a sucking noise made against his teeth as he tried to place the woman for a prolonged moment before finally chuffing out,

"Come lookin' for that kiss, my knight in shinin' armor?"

Another long drag was taken off the cigarette and he exhaled a cloud of black smoke in her face, reclining back on the bench as a leg was kicked to cross over the other one in a postured lounge.


A laugh, high pitched and chiming escaped her as she sat back on her bench and hooked a brow upwards, even as a blush covered her cheeks. "The least you could say is a thank you." She murmured, crossing her arms under her chest, green eyes narrowed and her jaw squaring faintly.

Then her was exhaling smoke into her face and she coughed, waving a hand to clear the smoke away, her eyes watering up faintly. "Uhm, really? Wow, rude." She coughed out, rubbing her eyes.

"Was that /really/ necessary? Geeze. You're a jerk. I should've let the car hit you. Make it would've smacked some sense into you."


"Oh honey-" The tone was chiding, but the grin flashed with those chapped lips, all adorned with dimples, was charming. "-Plenty have tried to knock sense into me. 'Sides."

This time when he exhaled, it was diverted away from their table as a finger knocked embers away from the end of the stick in a distracted tap-tap-tapping motion, "How'd ya' know a kiss isn't thanks enough?"

There was a suggestive edge to his voice, setting the cigarette back between his lips to free up his dirtied hands. They busied themselves setting out the two rows of bishops and knights, king and queen. When the last rook had been placed, he started on the other side until the board was readied for play.

"Where you headin'?" He inquired conversationally, with a nod of his head to the bags at her side.


Lorna blushed a deep pink hue that faintly reminded one of roses, she rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to frown and scowl and narrow her eyes at him. "That's rude, you don't /kiss/ a lady you've just met." She huffed, crossing her arms as she stared at his setting up the chess board.

At least he wasn't blowing smoke in her face this time.

"I was going back to school from Christmas shopping, or in the case of my Tata, Hanukkah.. Though I was told not to /buy/ him anything.." She mumbled, trailing off and biting her lower lip.


Seth blinks as he considers the bags, leaning forward and propping his head up on a hand as he casually glanced back to her from his consideration of her things.

"Lady? What're ya', landed gentry or some shit?"

Waving away the explanation she would likely furnish, he pressed on with a smirk,

"Who? Husband?"


A cough and Lorna blinked repeatedly at Seth, and gaped at him quite openly. "Uhm, no. I was just raised to be careful with.. with things.." She mumbled, her cheeks hot.

"And no, my Tata is my father. It's polish." She glowered at him, and if she pushed a smidge on the metal on his person.. well that was entirely vindictive in nature.


"A pole, huh? Prettier than most of the poles I've met, but- You can't expect everyone to know what things mean in your language. You're an American now."

If he was being purposefully insensitive, it wasn't apparent. As was more likely, he just had never been instructed in niceties among societally elevated peers. Seth pressed on, ignoring her chaste nature as he gestured at the bags with that dangling cigarette between drags,

"So what'cha get 'im? Hopefully nothin' expensive if he's a kike."


Red colored her cheeks and Lorna pushed a little harder on the metals on his person, hoping to knock him off his seat on the bench. "I was /raised/ in America, what are you a racist pig too?" She snapped, anger coloring her voice. "I was adopted here, thank you /very/ much." She crossed her arms and leaned back, sniffing delicately.

She looked utterly unapologetic for using her powers on the man. Not after he insulted her beloved tata.


There was no change on Seth to vibrate, no paperclips to bend or twist, and no buttons to pop. The blade in his right pocket sprang open with an audible snap, slicing through the fabric of his jeans in a fashion that should have opened a red line of blood down his leg. Except it didn't. As the bone handled weapon hit the ground at his side with a pronounced metallic ring, the boy blinked and looked down at his pocket. Silence reigned for a long moment, and then he quietly reached down and picked up the knife.

Without hesitation, he plunged it into the hand still lying flat on the table between them, until it buried in the checkered surface on the other side. He left it there while his blue eyes rose to meet hers, and then he smiled pleasantly - as if there wasn't a blade still quivering through the back of a palm.

"That's Mr. Racist Pig to you, young lady."


Lorna stared, gaping at him for a long moment in stunned silence as she realized the chunk of metal she'd been pushing on was a /knife/. She seemed decidedly uncomfortable as he slammed it into the table and she clapped her hands over her lips as she squeaked at him. Eyes wide and her eyebrows held high she bit her lower lip and hunkered down in her seat.

Then she made a brave show of pushing passed her fear and scowled at him, her hands dropping to her skirt and bunching it up between her fists. "You're a jerk!" She muttered, her cheeks turning hot once more and she shoved on the knife. The metal object flying back and clattering to hit the far wall of the building and tumbling to the ground.


In the wake of the knife's removal from his hand, Seth laughed openly and watched the weapon clatter uselessly behind him. His arms crossed over his chest, but not before it was readily obvious that passing a blade through his hand had no impact on his person. In fact, it appeared as if the blade had done exactly that - gone through his skin instead of piercing it. The cigarette was dropped and crushed out with a boot, and he began to return the chess pieces knocked askew in their disagreement back into proper places.

"I've never pretended to be anything different. But we apparently have at least one thing in common."


A huff of breath escaped her and Lorna narrowed her gaze at Seth. "Obviously, you think?" She snapped, and rose, gathering her bags up, pushing her hair back from her face and scowling faintly in his direction.

"My roommate said that it must be a latent thing, that all mutants find each other at some point or another. But you're horrible! I've met /so/ many people with so many differences and you're just.. ugh!" She exclaimed, and adjusted her grip on her shopping bags.


As she stands, Seth mirrors her action while beginning to place the corrected pieces back in the pockets they had come from. While doing so, he spoke with a shake of his head and a smile,

"Different. Sure. Deplorable? Only on Tuesdays. Let me help you with those at least. Lot'sa questionable sorts out here, ya' know?"

His hands spread, unharmed and filthy, in an offering of assistance that seemed genuine in nature.

"Like as a thank you for savin' me, Doll."


Lorna scowled, her lower lip sticking out as she stared at Seth for a long moment and then promptly shook her head. "Nope, no thank you. I'm walking back to the Frost Institute and Miss Frost doesn't like the idea of strangers walking onto campus all willy-nilly like. Thank you, but no thank you." She bit her lower lip, fighting with the inward urge to trust the best in people.. and annoyance at the young man for being a /jerk/ to her and insulting her heritage.

That last part really rankled the young woman, especially as she was /quite/ proud of her father. He had quickly earned a spot as being her hero. No one could insult anything connected to him and remain in her good graces as a result.


Seth smiled graciously even in defeat, playing at a curt bow as he stepped back to reclaim his knife. The blade was tucked back into the handle with a practiced motion, an affection for the implement evident in his care to slip it within a deep pocket. As he shivered, he offered up in nonchalance,

"Seth, by the way. Name's Seth."


Lorna exhaled a heavy breath, irritation coloring those green eyes as she pulled herself up into a taller position. As he reached for the knife, /she/ pushed on it. The metal glued to the floor almost for a long moment as she let him try to pull it up and then slammed it back down. She certainly couldn't do what her father did with metal, not the intricate manipulations of magnetic fields. But pushing and pulling? Oh she could do that all day now.

Eventually though, she let him pick it up and she huffed. "Considering I saved your life before from a car and you insulted my heritage and my birth-father all in one breath, I don't particularly /want/ to know your name, Seth. you're a jerk." She muttered.

Then promptly spun on her heel and made to leave.


It was obnoxious. To his credit, he didn't lose his temper though, allowing her to play with him like one might a fish on the line with only an occasional grunt. After the knife had been safely returned to his unripped pocket did he shrug and respond,

"I don't mean to pop your bubble, but you didn't save me. The other shit, sure. But ya' aint a martyr. I don't owe you squat. Was just trying to be polite and make conversation."


/That/ got Lorna and she deflated. Even if he was a jerk.. The brunette sighed and rolled her eyes upwards. "Alright, look, sorry. But you /looked/ like you were gonna get hit and frankly that /kills/ most people.. to be fair.." She dragged out the last part, and said it slowly as if he were very bright himself.

"But you're not being polite either, you've been actually really mean and really rude.." She muttered.


Seth sighs as he leans back against the bench she was formerly sitting on, considering her with a mixture of annoyance and affront. Eventually, he deigned to respond,

"I'm treatin' you how I am used to bein' treated. It's how I treat everybody. I know ya' seem to got a lot going for you, and probably don't talk to folks outside that circle often, but you step far enough outside your comfort zone - Different probably starts to feel a bit rude. I'm just bein' me, lady. Sorry you found it offensive."

Now it was his turn to pivot on a heel and head in the opposite direction, whatever reason had brought him here obviously excused in the event someone had seen their brief display of powers and alerted the authorities.


The good thing about it being a week day? Most people in there were old, and as far as Lorna had noted, none had noticed her use of powers. Though the clatter of the knife on the far wall and earned a few glances in the object's direction, no one had put two and two together to get /Lorna/. The girl wasn't completely reckless after all.

"Well it's mean, alright?" Her voice softened, her expression twisting faintly with remorse. "You shouldn't talk like that to someone you've just met. It's .. it's not a good way to make friends. Okay?" She tilted her head to the side, peering ath him.


Seth laughs over his shoulder at her, shaking his head as he arched a brow.

"Ya' aint' going to be my friend. Wouldn't matter how pretty I talked. Trust me on this one, Sweetheart. Thanks for nothing though."

And with a wave of his hand, he excused himself from her company, trotting down the pathway a few paces before distracting down an intersection and flowing out into the steady churn of pedestrian traffic that offered anonymity to any New Yorker within the flock.


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