1964-01-14 - Men in Suits
Summary: Raven and Hope manage to capture men in black suits for questioning. Lorna pleads her case to help find the missing mutants.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
lorna hope raven 

The streets of Hell's Kitchen are always noisy. It didn't matter the time of day, people were moving about in small hubs, often times heading home from a long day at work, most of the time heading to work odd jobs that were less than savory for the blue collar folk. Raven was one of them, busy as she was. Dressed not in her finest but something that allows her to move about unnoticed and unseen. The brown haired, tan-skinned woman carries a dufflebag upon her shoulders, hefting the heavy thing through the milling of folks. One operative in place, upon the rooftop, waiting for Raven's arrival..

.. Yes. Raven was up to no good, for she ducks behind a black car, then out again. And another. The cars were lined up in a row. So whatever it was that she was doing, it was a job well done. Four cars in all were fixed with something, the dufflebag discarded.. and still, the only reason to pay attention to Raven was the fact that she was an attractive woman, figure to boot, nice little smile that none could shake a stick at and seemingly innocent gait as she skips across the street.

Into the abandoned building. Up the stairs. The second level in which another bag was grabbed and taken to the rooftop.

And from there, she perches. She loves the rooftops. It gives her a vantage point that only a mutant-type flight that she couldn't achieve.

"The game is afoot." She says quietly, kneeling down to open up the bag, drawing out a remote.. a metal stand, and a sniper rifle that need assembled. "Get to work."


Lorna was looking for the homeless mutant named Seth. The blonde haired boy had promised that if she looked for him in Hell's Kitchen, asked for Seth, not the Latino Seth, that she'd be directed to him in no time. That so long as she kept her wits about her, she'd be fine and safe and decidedly not harassed on the street like the last time she'd wandered into Hell's Kitchen alone.

It helped that she didn't have her natural hair flying free, nor was she running around in skin tight leather.

Rather a nice bundled up coat, scarf, and wool knit hat with mittens and thick boots clad her figure. It was cold, and the streets were covered in sand and salt over a morass of ice that had frozen and been refrozen as snow storms came and went.

Still she had no luck finding her friend. A frown marred her features and she shifted her grip on the bag slung over her back. "Where are you.."


That operative in place hardly stands out here at all. There are plenty of redheaded Irish girls in the kitchen, just like there are dozens of Puerto Ricans and displaced Cubans, dreamers from the Caribbean and hard-bitten children of empires crashed and gone. Still, wearing a knitted cap pulled low helps conceal her hair, and that makes Hope a very low-key individual in a dark coat and jeans, lying on her belly.

In hand? A rifle, resting against her shoulder the way some girls go around with fancy purses. The stock sits comfortably upon the curve, and the barrel points downwards at the street, a barely legal scope screwed in to give a bearing. Beside her sits a small canvas bag, nothing to speak of, containing among other things, potato chips, a knife, and an extra supply of ammunition. Only fair to have it, really.

"Unusual activity on the fourth floor corner apartment, building with the orange graffiti. Someone keeps going through with the lights off," she reports quietly. "Probably theft. No evidence anyone's home." She doesn't even look up at Raven. Why should she? The attention is down on the sidewalk and the street beyond.

This is almost like old times. So many ticks, so much familiar, except change the lovely lady with the wiggle to her step with an enormous cybernetic bear of a man, prone to grumping about everything and telling her to flatten herself to the roof or hide better or shoot one degree to the left if she wants a critical hit.


The sniper rifle was set up, the pieces quickly assembled in military fashion. A little flag was placed off to her left to catch sign of the wind, but that was all. She would have to rely on that, not gears and roters as she would in the field, and with a booted foot pressed to the edge of the roof, she leans into the scope to watch.

She catches the movement in the corner apartment, Hope was right, the sihlouette of the man moves back and forth, her nose wrinkled ever so slightly as she draws down to the next building over. No one approached the cars yet, but that was a good sign. But what wasn't?

The girl.

"Well I'll be goddamned.." She says in a quiet breath, "We go for the Italian's and kid Magneto shows up." Raven clicks her teeth, gesturing towards the bundled girl below. Right in front of the last car that was set to blow as soon as Raven saw movement. "Run interference."


Lorna pursed her lips together, the background din of the city's metallic objects was always overwhelming. Mostly she filtered things out, it had been a challenge to focus on individual things, especially while she was walking. But there was always that mental static, that mental awareness of everything around her that had metal bits and bobs.

Perhaps it was that awareness that drew her to a halt, her brow furrowing as she felt that something extra and was unsure exactly what it was around her that had drawn her attention.

Unlike her father, Lorna most certainly had never been around weapons before. Not really. A rural Upstate town, there were hunting rifles and the alike, but wasn't a real comparison. Still, she twisted on her toes, pausing on the sidewalk as she felt the odditities around her and came up short of an explanation. Another few muttered words of where the heck are you Seth? Followed before she started forward again.


The brief glance over at Raven's weapon comes merely out of professional interest, assuring all is set up just so and the wind hasn't shifted unnecessarily. Her own attention to detail courtesy of cybernetic bear father requires her to compensate for the slightest shifts, and she slows her breathing slightly to fit right back in that anchor point. Fitting into the groove pushes all other concerns out of her mind, leaving her alert and open to varied threats.

Nothing directly sounding around the vehicles, nothing about the cars themselves to attract attention. The couple fighting two floors down and a building over across the street finally turn the light out. She can ignore the break-in except to check occasionally whether the thief intends to run out the front doors. And… girl.

"Magnet-o?" Yes, unless someone has stuffed newspapers under her nose, she hasn't got a clue. Call it a problem with time dilation and slides; he registers barely at all. Still, her fair green eyes narrow substantially and the telltale prickling in her thumbs… "Something wicked this way comes." The faintest arc of a smile creases her lips, and the fairer shade of her skin bleaches away the gorgeous caramel complexion she sported before. "Be right back —"

No sooner has she said 'back' than the gun is practically falling in midair, rocking back on its stand because the girl is gone like a ghost. She runs across the building and simply seems to jump right over. If someone could see her — and that's hard, given she goes down the wall into the alley — they might suspect she's that Mighty Menace of Manhattan. Nope. The scrabble of her flat soled shoes catches the wall and the fire escape as she free-runs it, springing off a rail and catching a bricked up ledge, and moving down. That puts her out onto the street level in seconds, impressive enough for a traceur. Then she peeks both ways and skitters back several steps and shyly waves a hand. "Hey! You dropped something." What? It fits in her hand, a book of some kind?


'Where are you'. Who? One arch of the brow is lifted as Raven reads the lips of the girl, her own brown eyes darting down towards the redhead as she mutters quietly. "I'll fill you in later. There's a lot about me that you don't know, but will have to. I suppose now is closer than not.." Her eye returns to the scope, her fingers lifting to pinch against the dial, twisting and turning it for a few clicks as she 'hears' the telltale sign of her own gift at play.

To some, it would sound like crackling.
But what others do not hear is the bone grinding crunch of organs shifting and moving as they shouldn't.

The gust of wind is a sign that Hope was on the move. There was no need to look after her and her progress, for there was a telling sign that maybe even -Raven- couldn't keep up with Hope's flight..

And down she was, no sooner the command given was Hope at Lorna's side.

And no sooner than Hope had spoken words to Lorna (Raven can read lips, sorta), the doors to the building they stood in front of open, and men.. some ranging from big to small, little to tall, all dressed in suits emerge, cigarettes in hand and laughter in their bellies..

"Move her.. Hope." Raven mutters to herself. The count-down starts now.


Lorna shifts on her toes, her brows rising as she turned around and walked back in the direction she'd started away from on her own. Her brows climbing higher as the stranger calls for her attention. A tilt of her head follows though, as Lorna approached the other woman.

"I did? What?" She blinked, and shifting her grip on her bag, twisting it around to pat down pockets and check to see if anything had fallen out or gotten lose.

"I'm not sure that I did, I—" And then the doors banged open to her right and spilled out various men in suits. Lorna edged closer to the strange woman, out of their path as much as she was able.


Lesson the first of Hell's Kitchen: don't stick around to ask questions.

Lesson the second of Hell's Kitchen: when the going gets weird, the weird (and wise) get going.

Hope's wild, flaming hair bounces around her shoulders and she holds out that book, a paperback purloined on the run or something she keeps under her coat. Guess as one will. It's been thumbed and fairly well loved: Le Carre's 'The Spy Who Came In From the Cold.'

"This is yours, right? We can't see a thing here. It's a book. Let's get back into the light." She traipses back towards the nearest streetlight, which is more than a significant distance away from the rattle of opening doors. "It was right back there. Seeing you're the only person around…" A shrug of her shoulders and the slight tip of her smile leaves the mental math pretty obvious. Her stride is quick, the sort of an urban dweller 'round here would have. No one loiters or slouches lightly through these tangles of streets. They go where they have to get. "Say it's not and it's yours anyways."


"Good girl." Raven murmurs quietly, her eyes adverting towards the little flag as the cold air picks up. The dials were constantly turned, soft little clicks here and there.. the flag itself stopping in it's movements which draw Raven's fingers to a standstill. And then Hope draws her back further, or.. hopefully does. It didn't matter at this point, some Italians had it coming to them and on the other hand?

It was time to put Kid Magneto to the test.

With a slight reach of the boot that was planted upon the roof, her leg stretching out just a little.. presenting herself with an odd little stance as it lifts.. and strikes down upon the button that connects the devices to their cars.

What did that little button do?

Oh, it was glorious.

If this were all played in slow motion they would see the sparks underneath the cars simultaneously, the brilliant flash of white which slightly turns blue. The blooming of the hot yellow and oranges. The details of the chasis system beneath the cars as the wheels begin to expand and slowly pop. Oh how doth that rubber fly!

The windows curl in, hung by an invisible sheet that allows the glass to crack without ever disconnecting, and yet it happens! The spiderwebs expanding upon all surfaces, shards of them slowly flying. And look! A door handle! A door handle pings slowly upon one of the cars and shoots across the street into another.

Oddly enough, in this slow motion description of the exploding cars, all four, in a row? The boom. A loud crack that could wake a sleeping baby and a drunkard who laid in his own filth. The boom that shakes and rocks the streets of Hell's Kitchen in that immediate vicinity as if it rested on a faultline that suddenly had woken up. Lovely, lovely, lovely.


Lorna frowned faintly, shuffling her back pack back over her shoulders as she stepped after the woman. A few steps forward and she was trailing after the red head with the book. Toward the streetlight. "Uhm, I didn't think I packed any books, thanks but I'm good really.." She eyed the offered book with a confused glance, before further questions, or even comments were dropped abruptly as explosions rocked the area they'd just been.

As each car blew up in a swirl of fire, Lorna yelped and moved.

Instinct, or perhaps training at this point, had her stumbling back and she flung up her arms protectively before her. The explosions from the cars, all the metal debris at least, flew back. Away from her, and as she closed her fists, collapsed inwards rather than outwards in a deadly spray.


Hope has partially disconnected.


Pity they haven't any classical music. The William Tell overture would do very nicely if a bit obvious to match. Those vast crescendos and bombastic splashes of brass to go with furiously accelerating strings would be just the thing for the pyrotechnics blooming in vast marigold and orange flames. Rubber incinerated into a melting smolder deserves some crash of cymbals or the ponderous thump of drumsticks on a timpani.

And there's Raven as the conductor, all but requiring a karmic baton to signal this explosion and that burst, this crash of glass and that twinkling succession of a gearbox blowing apart and sending slagged components bouncing down the street.

Windows about the detonation sight surely crackle and blow inwards, caught by cheap blinds and curtains, shredding them.

Hope is no fool to the explosion or the aftermath of it, either, and she clings hold of the book when the first one registers. Some part of her mind retains substantial focus, ticking off the seconds until the next and the next, even when the huge pressure pop makes her ears ring and white noise rattle through her skull. No point whatsoever in trying to talk; they're going to be deaf to one another for some time for now.

The best choice? Now, she stumbles, or affects to stumble into the nearest gap between buildings. Lorna is on her own, and the girl is headed back to baseline. She still has a job to do, after all.


There was no doubt that the spray of the metal, rubber and glass would reach Raven's perch. Thankfully she takes a step back, allowing the mess to fly around her with a raised arm and a shielded face. A few cuts happen here and there, but it was part of the job. Two years in the Hellmouth makes one highly impervious to pain. Two years with Daredevil helped in that regard.

But through the cracks of her fingers she bore witness to Lorna's quick use of her gift and wit. How the metals fan out, how close they were to killing the men, how -very- close Lorna was to letting it all fly until the metal itself was balled up into a bit of safety that only she could provide.

"Well I'll be a one armed-one legged big boobed ukranian.." Raven snaps out, an obviously glee within her eyes. "Like father like daughter."

Lets just see how deep that bloodline goes, shall we?

The top of the sniper rifle was gathered and hitched upon, boot leaning against the surface of the rooftop as she presses forward, eye through the scope.. aim..


Metal cracks through the air towards one of the men blown back against the building, now hunched over at a slow crawl.


The girls were up next!


Lorna didn't immediately recognize the pop and snap of a gun shot, much less a sniper rifle. The first man went down with a shout before she even realized what was going on. The second had her reflexively cowering, her hands pulling up close to protect herself as she realized it was a gun shot.

By the third? She'd realized that it wasn't toward herself, but someone else entirely. Her hands snapped out with a push of her powers, those very inherited powers. She stopped the bullet just centimeters from the intended target.

The fourth bullet halting midway toward its intended target as she caught that much faster in her magnetic field. She pushed outwards on it, and the bullets that she'd snared dropped to the concrete of the frozen side walk.

The mutant gaped at her feat, blinking rapidly as she stared down at her hands in astonishment then back at the fallen bullets. She had no real idea on how to track them back to the source, much less what to do with them. Her father had told her that he could stop bullets, but she certainly had never tried.

A small sound and she pumped her fist in the air with a delighted grin.


With Hope gone down the alley to do her own works out of view, Raven remains at the top, the scope view of the streets below has her swinging it's way to Lorna and the way she celebrates. Wait a minute, she fired four shots and.. "Fucking kid.."

Her perch wasn't abandoned just yet, the radio upon her hip snapped up as she presses down the button to dial down the radio. "We evacuate in five. Targets are down but not immobile. Ready the vehicle and move on my mark." If she knew that Lorna would have been present? She would have.. well, possibly snatched her off the street so that she could continue her work in peace. Now Raven, old as she is, has to get her hands dirty. "Send a boy. Police my shit. I gotta go down below."

Raven changes visibly, blue skin galore, the straps that keep her knives upon her person soon discarded as the blades themselves fall to the ground. There was no metal to stop her, only a possible bullet from the men before they decide to realize that they should have left long ago and not sit idle.

As soon as the blade itself falls, Raven dashes off. Over the side of the building, down the fire escape, crossing over to the other with a leap and a jump, the ladder slowly pulled down with a shocking *CLANG*, bare feet beating against the snow with a few slips and a slide..


The blue figure jumps through the fire, knee connecting to the one she missed, a twirl of the red hair the last thing seen of the other as she connects knuckles to adams apple to send the man down upon his knees to choke. And then to Lorna, she stares. "First Mutant Town, then Hell's Kitchen." She loudly tsks, her fist lifting to strike the choking man atop of his head. "You really, really ought to stay indoors."


Lorna's celebratory fist pump was cut off as soon as she noticed the blue figure downing one man and then the next. She gaped, and as Raven spun around to stare at her she stumbled back a step. A blink and then another the first response that Raven recieves for the tsk and chiding that followed.

"Yo-you!" She glanced around and then back, "Wait! You were the one that caused those explosions and a-and the gunshots?! Oh, my, god." She clapped her hands over her lips, green eyes wide as she looked from one fallen man to the other and then back.

"Hey! Wait, why are you attacking those men? What'd they do? What is this? Why are you here? I was looking for my friend. He's homeless and stays around here." She bit her lower lip, brows furrowing.


"Me!" Raven says, both blue hands risen to wiggle them in a jazzy-style that would make one think to take a little tap and a little dance. But she doesn't. She only looks to the rooftop of where she once stood, a figure that would be familiar to would give a wave, which causes Raven's own to lift and wriggle in return. While that Madrox begins to police the weapons and every other item left atop of the roof, another pulls up in a black van, immediately hopping out of the drivers seat to open the sliding door upon it's side. It's all rather comical, for at least five of the Madrox's exit the van, all grumbling and approaching the fallen victims, all the while Raven watches with amusement, though her ear was still turned to the babbling girl.

"Yes. That was me." She answers in order. "I'd say that I'm attacking them for fun, but there is a method to all of this madness." What did they do? "What didn't they do. But this is good ol' fashioned revenge served hot, I live here, and.. I do not know who your friend is. Sorry." Her nose wrinkles faintly, her fingers slightly pressing against her brow as she takes those little strides towards Lorna.

"Fine. I'll be candid. These men may or may not be part of the crew that kidnapped vigor laced mutants. I am going to find out who and why. Now, my advice? Get out of here before the police comes. They should be here in five.."

Just as she spoke, the van doors itself slam shut, the men carted off by many Madrox's and his horrible driving. "Unless you're hungry. I could go for a sandwich."


Lorna recoiled as Raven approached her, at least, until the woman clairifed what she was doing with those men and then she was darting forward after her. "Wait!" She picked around the debris that speckled the sidewalk.

"I want to help." She bit her lower lip, "I was at a club where someone spiked the drinks with that stuff. They're kidnapping people? Then I want to help stop them. Please. I'm sorry I got in the way. I didn't know." She bit her lower lip, and she wrung her hands together.

"My friend lives on these streets. He's a mutant. I'm worried because I haven't seen him in weeks." She glanced around at the burning cars and her jaw tightened determinedly as she trailed after Raven.


It was a good thing Lorna kept up; she would have missed the physical shifting of the woman to a young girl that was close to Lorna's age. Though her manner of dress was of that of an adult woman who walked off the set of Elizabeth Taylor's new movie; high waisted pants, nice white blouse, all covered with a peacoat with fur and hair done up elaborately. "No." Raven says simply, her fingers digging into her pocket, her nose frowning just a touch as she makes a bee-line towards the nearest store, small as it was.

It was not odd for the store itself to be empty as it was, upon hearing the explosions, the clerk and staff ran out, which gave Lorna and Raven free reign to lord over the items as they would. "Yes, they're kidnapping people. And I don't think you understand. Because of who you are, and who you're associated with, I'll not be responsible for you, because I do not want to invite the death of an old friend upon my doorstep." It was said simply as she begins to peek and pick down the isles, her nose wrinkling.

"Your friend, what does he look like? What can he do? And what is his name? I am unsure if he was taken by these people, but it could be possible."

She pauses as the sounds of sirens rush past them, Raven pausing to look at the clock upon the wall. "Response time is shit here in Hell's Kitchen.."


Lorna trudged along side, keeping up with quick steps as she picked her way along the icy path of the sidewalk and into the store. She blinked only a few times as Raven shifted, and her brows climbed upwards, not entirely expecting it. Yet as they slipped inside the otherwise empty store, Lorna couldn't help but gape at the explanation that went along with the 'no'.

A tightening of her jaw followed, a stubborn demeanor taking hold as she crossed her arms over her waist, and then promptly peeled off her gloves against the warmth of the store.

"I can help though, I can do everything that my father can do. He's been training me for months. He took me into a war-zone to over throw a mad King for his girlfriend. I can help." She grit through her teeth, and then made a frustrated sound.

"And my friend? He's blonde, scruffy looking, his hair goes to his shoulders. Blue eyes. He's about this tall—" She gestured, "His name is Seth. And he.. well, I don't know exactly what his mutation is, other than he doesn't seem to get hurt. Like ever. Nothing seems to hurt him physically. I dunno if its 'cause he heals, or he has really hard skin, or what. He didn't say.."


Raven picks up a can of peas, her nose wrinkling at the thought of it, then places it back upon the shelf. Even as Lorna speaks, she moves on casually, as if she were searching for something that escapes her mind at the moment. And yet, there was a sight she didn't expect to see. A webbed bag of lemons, which were soon plucked from the shelf and tucked beneath her arm. "That is the problem right there. You are trained by your father. Your -father-." She states carefully. "No doubt you inherited his and my brothers moral views as well. You cannot do what I am willing to do, and that is kill."

She turns to look at the girl evenly, then plucks the bag of lemons from her arm to hand to Lorna. "Be a dear and hold that."

And then there was another isle, where salt was plucked from the shelves, along with a set of carving knives. "Seth. I'll keep his name in mind while I speak ever so kindly to the men that I injured. But as it stands, I don't think your help will be required. You're in league with your father and all that he does. We are entirely different on that aspect. Has he ever mentioned me? I'm curious."


A flush dusted over Lorna's cheeks as Raven spoke, automatically holding whatever it was that the woman tossed her way. She was quiet for a long time, perhaps for longer than was comfortable, as Raven went through the aisle. She looked away, swallowing a lump that formed in her throat.

"I got lost in Hell's Kitchen the first time I came here. Three men, one of them was a mutant, tried to chase me." She whispered, "Seth tried to help me escape, we ran into an abandoned building. But they kept coming after us. I threw whatever I could find, but the mutant.. He was really strong." She squeezed her eyes shut briefly, and then looked at Raven.

"They wouldn't leave us alone, so I brought the building down on them. They died."

Then she was biting her lower lip. Hard.

"My father.. I still haven't told him. Miss Frost and Seth said it was in self defense. And Professor Xavier told me that I shouldn't have done it.. I just.." She exhaled, harshly.

"I still want to help."

A pause followed and Lorna rolled her shoulders back. "And yeah, he told me about you. He said that you wouldn't hurt me.."


Raven was prone to listening to the plight of others. Their stories interested her; not for the fact that she could twist it to her own desires, but it gives an insight into the person who speaks it. And this particular insight was huge. She says nothing for a time, the entirety of the store was looked over, the contents placed upon the counter top as she leans over it to reach for a few bags. The items were placed inside, and soon hitched upon her arm as she turns to look towards Lorna.

"That's where your father is wrong. I will hurt you if you piss me off."

"Understand that nothing will be done in self defense. Understand that in my world, killing is a choice. Not capturing. Not turning over to authorities. Not leaving the good fight to happen for another day. Choices." She smacks her lips, then considers the till for a moment, one eye squinting closed and the other opening to look around. It was an odd gesture, but was done either way.

"If you want to hop on this train, then so be it. If you want to keep this to your father -or- tell him? Fine. I do not care. But know, once you take that first step? There's no going back. My crew, we're mean. We're nasty. And we don't care about the others save for ourselves and our kind. Nothing more, nothing less."


Lorna shifted her grip on the items Raven had tossed her way, biting her lower lip as she listened to the other woman's words. "He said that you'd know what would happen if you hurt me." She offered softly, her brows furrowing.

"Though that kinda sounds like a threat.." She shifted on her toes, her throat tightening as she considered Raven's words and glanced down at the cheap tile flooring.

".. If someone is getting mutants on vigor and then kidnapping them…" She exhaled a shaky breath, and shivered despite the warmth of the store's interior. "I just want to help save them. Even if none of those mutants that were taken are my friends. They don't deserve to be kidnapped or .. or anything…"


"I'm sure it was meant to be a threat. I've heard and seen of your fathers exploits. The most that I can expect from him is a slap on a wrist and thrown into a jail that he thinks I cannot get out of. Big Bad Magneto. Saving mutant kind by one abandonment at a time." Her brows raise. "I've heard what happened to Magneto, leaving a child, one of our own to authorities to be raised an orphan by those who'd hate her. Doesn't sound too knightly, at'tall, no? Though.. I should possibly take that back. He did, after all overthrow someone elses King."

The items were taken from Lorna and placed into a new bag, held out to her again as she begins to leave the store, expecting the girl to follow. "..or drugged against their will." Raven finishes Lorna's words, stepping out into the air, her eyes turned to the flashing blue and red lights not too far from where they stand. A block or three at most. "Very well. You want to help, fine. In a weeks time, meet me at St. Michael's Church. It's the big one close to the row of tenements that should have been abandoned long ago. And do avoid telling your father about this. I don't need nor feel the want to deal with a pretender, I've got enough shit on my plate as is."


Lorna, despite the fact that Raven was clearly stealing goods from the store, kept up. Even if a few bills pinched between quarters managed to oh so carefully fly out of her own pocket to rest on the counter. This whole breaking the law thing, was still a major obstacle to her. Yet she kept up, taking back the bag and stepping lightly along beside the older woman and out the door.

Her brows furrowed as Raven spoke of a mutant child left behind, her head tilting to the side. She certainly hadn't heard about that. Her lips pursed together, and she glanced down the street at the flashing lights. Then back again as Raven spoke of meeting up in a week's time.

A slow nod followed and Lorna swallowed a thick lump that formed in her throat. She knew that this would mean avoiding the Institute for a while. The young mutant was a terrible liar, and she knew it. Never mind that there were telepaths all around, between Jean, the Professor, and Miss Frost, she decidedly knew quite a few of them.

"My father did fight off those giants that attacked the city last month." She added softly, unwilling to give up her defense of the man just yet.


If Raven noticed that Lorna was effectively paying the balance due for her? She wasn't going to say a thing. (She didn't notice!) But they were already outside, the woman stepping closer to Lorna to bend a touch at the knees, her arm snaking around the bag to get a nice little hold upon it as she hefts it up with a quick hop in step. "Whatever you tell yourself to sleep at night, kid." She says, her brows furrowing just a little. Didn't Logan tell her that once?

That causes a lip to raise and her head to shake in disgust.

"And has he been out since? Fighting the good fight? Or has he been wallowing and enjoying his Princely matrimony." But as she lets out a breath, she shakes her head faintly. "Either way, I'd rather you, Miss Lorna Dane, to be cut from a different cloth. To be made something far greater than your father will ever be. And there will be sacrifices, especially if you choose to align yourself with the Brotherhood, even if it is to find out 'why' those mutants were taken. But I must tell you this. Keep away from my brother, if you're as finnicky with me then I could only imagine how you are around him." She grins faintly. "Not the big one. But Charles. And if you happen to see him, tell him I said hello? I do miss our talks." And with that, she wanders aimlessly down the street, possibly going in another predetermined destination in case she were followed by little lady Magneto.


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