1964-01-31 - Contingency Planning
Summary: The Breakfast Club convenes and discusses setting up the contingency plan.
Related: N/A
Theme Song: None
lorna tommy hope 

Lorna has arrived.


February dawns and Groundhog Day may hold special value for two and a half time displaced creatures. For all the woes and grumpy information posted in the newspapers, young people of New York still need their breakfast. Bagel shops overflow with students. Greasy spoons contribute to the Eighties obesity epidemic by giving those middle-aged people delicious food now, eggs and piles of toast slathered in imitation butter. Bring on the margarine, regale us with transfats, and show the world what our chemical factories can produce that looks and tastes like food, but is nothing of the sort! In the midst of fake syrup bonhomie, Hope is busy eyeing up the list of waffles and telling the poor waitress, "One of the waffles with the bananas, caramel sauce, pecans, and walnuts, and then another waffle with the strawberries, blueberries, and more strawberries, with chocolate syrup and lots of whipped cream. Can I add some almonds and more strawberries to that? I'm very patriotic today."


Young people need their breakfast and these two perhaps more than others; Lorna had told him that Magneto — Erik — had given her strict instructions. Leave in threes or go alone and accept the consequences, so he had invited his poor, homebound Aunt along for the party — it was also one of the primary reasons that he was sitting next to the redhead, pouring through the menu with thought. "So, I'd /also/ like a waffle…" /A/ waffle? Only one? "…but I'm thinking, waffles would be even awesome if you ripped up about ten slices of bacon and dropped them in the batter before cooking. Then once it's done, I'd like two scoops of ice cream on top. Surrounded by strawberries, please — oh, oh, and covered in chocolate syrup. Seriously, when you think there's too much, that's probably just about right… so add a little more." the speedster encourages, grinning from ear to ear. Custom orders are a specialty; from the pancake 'sandwiches' of last time, to the waffle dessert of today. Some of these things /may well/ be from the future and introduced early. Others? Maybe just the overactive and extra hungry mind of a speedster looking for calories and flavor explosions.

He does like explosions.

Folding the menu closed, he slips an arm around Hope and looks across the table at Lorna. Her turn! It may very well be a good thing that waitresses have pens and pads and don't rely on memory alone. Although a waffle so described attempted with the 'telephone' technique… could be interesting as well.


Lorna was very nearly vibrating with a combination of nerves and excitement at being outside once more. Whether or not her father's instructions were truly meant to allow her out or a simple warning to keep her inside, hardly seemed to matter to the young woman. She may least wasn't looking around everywhere at every second. Perhaps it was a good sign.

Or rather it was simply that she found it better to simply expand her powers, and magnetic field further than herself. Which on more then one occasion set the lights above flickering gently.

More than one person in the immediate area had complained about being shocked by a rather strong static electricity that seemed to permeate the air.

All of which lasted up until the point that Tommy addressed her, and she boggled. "I just… uh.. um.. hot chocolate.. and uh.. I guess hmm… I guess an order of pancakes? Just with syrup please."


The idea of a waffle sandwich or a waffle bacon ice cream mix could be absolutely terrible. The presence of bacon gets a wrinkled nose from Hope. "Why? At least do those maple syrup sausages, but berries and meat should never meet, it's like the worst match ever. You must have no palate, or you're going to hope the ice cream melts all over the mush underneath and no one will be the wiser, because you can't taste anything but chocolate vanilla stew. Please make sure you bring that to him in a bowl, or a frying pan, so he doesn't make a mess." She nods sagely to the repulsed waitress, giving a short, sage nod as though this has never been encountered before. Teenaged guys are, naturally, pretty horrible.

"And a carafe of orange juice, please." She glances askance to Tommy when he wraps his arm around her, and if there's anything question how he remains so lean, it's probably something to do with running at a thousand miles an hour most days. Her own build is very much the byproduct of being an active traceur, something they don't even have names for yet. "I'm glad you thought to bring your flat-soled shoes. Trust me when I say you're going to need them to feel at all balanced when I have you standing on railings. Gotta get some flexion going on."

Her nose wrinkles a little bit, and she tips her head upwards when the light flickers. Call it a case of distraction, but when her flaming red hair threatens to stand on end, thanks to the metal clasps on the elastics holding her ponytail in place, her fingertips squeeze around Tommy's. And her hair promptly drops nicely back where it belongs. She reaches for the spoon and drops it, snapping her hand back. "Ow. What gives?"


Meanwhile, Tommy's hair miiight be a little bit frizzled from said static electricity; fortunately, he hasn't had the chance to look in a mirror, so no sudden need to fix his hair in order to satisfy his vanity. Tommy Shepherd is a creature of image, to be certain; to look less than cool just isn't right.

Hope's reaction to Tommy's order gets a sticking out of his tongue. Doubly so when the waitress leaves, "Tch. Your future hasn't taught you /anything./" the speedster teases, lips curved into a wide grin. "You eat the toppings /first,/ the waffle second. Breakfast after dessert. Because we're totally adults. and we do what we want."

That's right, ladies and gentlemen. The byproduct of limitless maturity, right there. "Hey, you're the expert when it comes to this. Teach me, oh teacher, and I will be your willing student." …besides, having watched the way Hope disappears up on the rooftops and just… almost seems to fly all over the place without actually flying? It's cool. It's very cool — and would be helpful to avoid running in a straight line if he could do more than zig-zag and swerve.


Lorna dropped her attention as soon as the order was taken, her focus returning to noting each and every piece of metal in the greasy spoon of a diner. She tuned out Hope's comments on Tommy's choice of food stuffs and the grody mental images that would've arisen from it had she been listening. Rather instead though, she was busy trying to count how many people were in the diner via her sense of belt buckles, zippers and the alike.

At least till Hope yelped and snapped her hand back from the spoon.

Then she flushed, realizing what she was doing and dropped the magnetic fields to a lesser extent.

"Sorry! Sorry, that was me.. I was accidentally drawing on too much. It must've been.. oh.. I was er.. EMF fields and electricity.. and oh.. right. Uhm. Sorry. My bad." She mumbled, "I'm just so.. just a bit jumpy."


The spoon gets a look as though it might sit up and start singing the Soviet anthem. Possibly pull a top hat out, and start dancing, if it doesn't begin scooping out the chest of the nearest human. That mental image needs to be banished now because the poor girl's thoughts blossom with a sudden awareness and the spoon wiggles. Only a little, but the back and forth motion lasts long enough for the redhead to glare at it, and it lies flat to the table, contrite and still. As does every piece of cutlery on the table, for a span of a few seconds.

"Right." Hope lets out a long, low breath again that empties her lungs and fills it up again, as though she's still struggling to decipher whether or not the world is serious. "Sounds like you should be in some hardcore science classes of some kind. The sort they don't like putting girls in, I'm told." She draws a lazy circle in the air. "That's pretty useful, though, because we've got a lot of things with a lot of fancy electronics supposedly flying around." Given what he knows of her, Tommy could be laughing uproariously at the concept of complicated electronics, but he knows the truth of her age and timing and origins. What constitutes futuristic Space Age stuff here is, for her, ancient history for the most part.

It's best not to question any food choices, especially not with the orange juice being delivered in a big plastic pitcher with matching cups. She gleefully accepts this with the gratitude usually shown to doctors delivering firstborn or rescuing Grandma from being run over by a reindeer or eight. "Now this is a proper start to a morning. It's like liquid sugar. Anyways, with parkour, it's far better for getting around because no one goes 'Wow look at that man flying in the middle of the street,' you know? Some people get sensitive. And I'm honestly good at moving, so."


"Wanna try that again in English?" Tommy offers towards Lorna, laughing softly to himself — granted, he /can/ wrap his brain around things like EMF fields and electricity — he just tends to choose not to more often than not. It's the same reason that he's not some kind of supergenius; he just doesn't apply himself to the learning process more often than not.

Of course, the wiggling of the spoon is the kind of thing that does draw Tommy's attention, first to the spoon, then to Lorna, then over to Hope — given what he knows of the mimic.

"The kind they won't like putting girls in for fifty years. /My/ time fixes that." is offered towards Hope with a minor matter of pride. Tommy's a big believer in equality — to the point of soreness, see case in point: the Friends of Humanity. Coming from a time when things were… a lot better than they are now, it's hard to wrap his brain around how things are today.

But the arrival of that OJ does interrupt thoughts, and is met with a bright smile. Hand reaching out to start pouring the juice into the various cups. First their own, then his. Because he's drinking almost the moment once his cup's been finished being filled — and would've been no matter the order. "Yeah… and being able to make a getaway without a…" Tommy makes a brief 'poofing' motion with his free hand. "…you know, /flashy/ exit."


Lorna falls silent, the flush still dotting her face as her hot chocolate arrives with the orange juice. Bot hands wrap around it as she bites her lower lip. "Magnetism can create electrical currents when there's a coil. The diner is a makeshift one, if you will." She nodded to the shape of said diner. "With a current already in place. Put in a magnetic with a strong enough field and an alternating current and things can get messy from what tata's books say." She glanced down.

"Basically I was jumpy and trying to expand the magnetic field outwards and it caused the static." She wrinkled her nose at Hope's words and flashed a faint smile.

"Miss Frost at the Frost Institute allows it. Which is why I'm going to go for a degree in geophysics. It's tied to my powers so I thought it was a good idea to learn about it."

She glanced toward the spoon as Hope wiggles it, and Tommy's glance earns a lifting of her hands.

"What's park-er what?"


Try going from gender equality to gender inequality when no one even knows what the heck it means. Everyone dies the same and has the same guts under the skin; she's very hard to sway from a simple position. Giving Tommy a nod, Hope pours herself a glass of orange juice and peers at the pulp floating around like lost ducks. Then, without forsaking her curiosity, she takes a tentative sip. One might even think she's not used to drinking the stuff, or real oranges, and these are relative correct assumptions. "I like the idea of shaking up the establishment," she says, though her tone cools, "but I know that even the people we'd be helping wouldn't appreciate it or understand why. They haven't even seen the cage they're in, and that's sort of the problem. You have to get them used to the idea someone is fighting for them, especially when they have never even comprehended that we're out there for them. Speaking of that, did you ever talk to your brother about putting the posse back together? Because it's seriously looking like no one gives a crap about the values we care about, and that whole lead by example and demonstrate for others? Yeah."

The orange juice is gone in a long, long steady sip. She could be flashy, but she eats and dines and drinks like a soldier, rapid and mannered, but damn perfunctory. What's that about savouring food? Haha, there's a luxury none can truly afford.

"Hmm." That's what being the Messiah means, listening to the others and apparently daydreaming about saving the world with her friends. You can take Hope out of her century, but not out of the expectations wedged into her. Thanks a lot, dad. "Magnetism can also stick cars together and pin people to fridges. True facts. Though I think if you really try you can magnetize a tree or glass, so there's that." Her gaze shifts to Tommy, away from Lorna, and she gives him the most innocent grin that would melt butter, vaporize it in fact, and he probably ought to start running now. "Or your pants! She could maybe make you fly by the seat of your pants. I think that's pretty plausible." Her hands should not be rubbing together. They are.

Giving a little grin, she says, "Parkour is free-running. You might have seen something like it here, but not too likely. Basically the precept is that you keep moving across any surface, horizontal or vertical, through flips, runs, climbing, leaping. The whole point is to be as efficient with your movements as possible and getting around obstacles. I'm sure it was military, but for me, it's a matter of survival. Dump me in Hell's Kitchen, for example? I can get out without being shot or touching the ground."


"Makes sense." Tommy replies, taking a sip from his orange juice — enjoying the taste of the beverage. Unlike the soldier in Hope, Tommy's definitely capable of enjoying and savoring food — unless he's got something to say. At which point he'll just borrow a technique from piranhas and /devour/ foods. "Sounds like you're going to the right place then, Lorna." Frosty /had/ impressed him in the one meeting the pair had.

"Some of them have seen the cage they're in, Hope. Just look at Lynette. She /knows/ something's wrong." …and is doing something to try and change at least part of it. Which is a step in the right direction in the speedster's mind. "But… you're right." Tommy admits, crinkling his noise after a couple moments. "Haven't really gotten the chance to talk to him yet. Haven't even really /seen/ him lately." Of course, for a couple days the two of them had been out of commission… and then the Good Twin(tm) was going off and saving the world from alien invaders or something like that. Perfect recipe for not running in to one another. "I was going to talk to /Lorna/ about it, but…"

Then she started talking about he and Hope getting married and having babies and… Tommy's going to drink orange juice to distract that thought. At least until Hope suggests making him fly by the seat of his pants. Which brings a sputter that /almost/ causes OJ to go flying everywhere. Yay superspeed. "No, Hope. You don't want to do that, Hope. I know where you sleep, Hope." he can't help but laugh even as he's saying it — he's almost sure it's going to happen, now. A pranking war on the horizon? … not impossible, to be sure.


A sip at her hot chocolate and Lorna hides a smile. "I've already used that twice, pushing on people via their pants. Granted once was on Pietro when he was.. er.. well. He deserved it. Tommy saw me pants that one guy that made fun of me too." She shrugged and sipped at her hot chocolate again, downing the rest of the whipped cream that floated on top.

"Glass is diamagnetic. It hates magnetic fields. It'll shatter before it takes a charge." She mumbled. "At least that's what my textbook said. Spin glass test.. uhm.." She shrugged and then her brows furrowed as she glanced between Hope and Tommy.

"Wait, what tell me what?"


"Flying pants. See? Better than flying carpets, and plenty more comfortable. Maybe big belt buckles are actually useful instead of silly looking." Opinions! And look, there's their food being delivered by the frazzled waitress, starting with the two waffles heaped in fruit, Lorna's chosen baked breakfast goods, and finally Tommy's disaster. He gets his ice cream in a bowl, because that's how they roll around here. No skillet, sadly, but he can make do.

"He and his brother were part of this gang of ne'er-do-wells trying to make the city a better place for teenagers and young people. Right upstanding group too, from the sounds of it. They only stole hearts and headlines." She shrugs her shoulder and picks up her spoon, testing whether it wants to murder her. Evidently not. Then she dips it into the bananas and pecans, fishing around for all the yummy fruit to satiate her appetite. "Man, what are these? I thought pecans were a berry or something. But they look good. Let's see if they pass the taste test." One nom later, she can confirm, yes, yes, they do. Hasty gobbling will not follow, but it's hard not to. Sometimes when her mind is a million miles away, she moves faster than meets the eye, and she might just weld all the utensils flat to the tables if they're misbehaving. "Mmm. Anyways. What with all the weird garbage going on, I want to try to do something about it and I keep poking local establishment hero here to talk to his brother about reforming the band of merry men and women. Because that's what I want to do. Save the world. I mean, that's why I was born, right?"

She doesn't have a casual bone in her body, does she?


Well, Tommy was going to go ahead and explain the story a little more… but then Hope jumps right in and does that job for him. Well, it works well enough in the end, and Tommy just nods along while spooning ice cream into his mouth until she's done talking about it and…

"Yeah, pretty much what we said. We were a bunch of teens that decided to step up and stop the bad guys because the adults were too busy bickering over stupid stuff." he explains, crinkling his nose. "Sounds a bit like now, honestly, except all the old superheroes are busy keeping the world safe from aliens. Or at least going out and making a big show of it all over the headlines." There's automatic distrust for things that are government-funded by Tommy, that much is for sure.

A brief glance is given over towards Hope, "…we're just gonna have to get one of everything the next time we go to a supermarket, aren't we?" The ice cream is /not/ super-speed eaten. Because ice cream is really, really good. So there's unusual pauses in conversation.

"…and yeah, that's basically what we were talking about." Pause. "…and kinda figured it might be something you'd be interested in. Y'know, /doing/ something about the people trying to screw the world up. Like the Absorbing Man, for instance."

And a grin over to Hope. A wide, wide grin. "Nah. You were born because one day, your mommy and daddy decided that they loved one another very much and…"


A pause and Lorna considered over the plate of pancakes that looked rather unimpressive when compared to the two monstrous amounts of food on either Hope or Tommy's plates. She grimaced faintly, poking at the pancake drenched in syrup with her fork.

"I dunno if I'm.. if I'm good enough for that. Tata has been training me, along with Miss Frost, but.. I'm not exactly prepared for that sort of thing." She bit her lower lip.

It was what both her father and Miss Emma Frost had told her. That she wasn't exactly combat capable and had to step up her training if she was set on her course of using her powers like that..

"I want to help. I just.. I dunno if I'll be of much help, I guess." She didn't look up from her plate as she spoke, her jaw squaring. "I mean, I think I can. I mean.. okay. Yeah. My powers are obviously useful. I just.. I'm afraid I'll freeze up or something under pressure or just get in the way.."


"Not everything is about combat. Doing the right thing means listening and talking to people, looking out for trouble, and following up. It's as much talk and research and tactics as actually doing something." Hope answer this between forkfuls of waffle drenched in strawberries and melting whipped cream, and she goes after the runaway blueberries viciously. Corral and stab, it's a terrifyingly competent way of approaching the whole situation. She might be an equally nasty commander, using terrain and tactics to stick her enemies in a bottleneck where they can be removed at leisure. But then, cybernetic bear dads don't tend to use less than the most aggressive, brutal means to quell their enemies, something which Lorna might understand. Might have.

Ask one day what she knows about their respective father and grandfather in her day and age.

The smooth descent into uncertainty ends on a slice of caramel and banana, fed to Tommy by a fork waved in front of his face. "You know the only way to get around that is to actually practice, right? I still get sick sometimes after I shoot or fight, especially when there's any kind of damage. It never goes away. But you learn to juggle the trauma, deal with the situation and live in the moment. Half the reason for exposure is not panicking, as crazy as that sounds. You know, you keep your head when you're running straight down the side of a building at top speed, or tumbling backwards off a tree, or something. It's not the end of the world to be uneasy about how you'll handle it. Though imagine if you have some experience where it's safe? The dangerous becomes a whole lot less scary. Then you can deal with the task at hand, like the asshole shooting at you. So, yeah. Power posse engage. Also, there's probably someone really big who takes out the most dangerous threats, huge missiles and big green monster giant men and things."


"Right. Sometimes it's less about punching out people's lights, more about helping where you can; hell. You didn't hesitate when the dude with the claws was squarin' up on me…" A pause and a pointing of his spoon over in her direction. "Didn't follow directions either, though — that's something you'll have to work on even more than your powers, I think — but you sure as hell didn't freeze up."

He's not entirely sure if he's proud or disappointed in the fact that she didn't do what she was told; maybe a ltitle of both, really. "If fighting is your concern… I can teach you how to use your fists." There's a brief look over at Hope — if she wants to reveal /her/ powers, that's up to her. Having access to the open book doesn't mean reading all the pages out loud, after all.

"…and besides, the other thing to think about? You wouldn't be in it alone. You'd have two people who move faster than sound, and I'm sure Billy's just dying to wear a cape again." Grin. "Imagine meeting the Absorbing Man for Round Two, but with backup."


A short laugh escaped her and Lorna pressed her hand over her lips. "I do practice, with my powers at least.." She mumbled, "I still need to work on a lot of them. No where near as good as I could be." Having seen her father fight? Yeah, pretty hard to live up to those standards.

"I listen to orders that I don't think are stupid. When that guy had metal claws that I could sense? That's totally not fair Tommy. It's like.. like putting you in a foot race and telling you to not use your powers." She muttered, a faint sheen or a flush on her cheeks.

"And also I wasn't exactly thinking.." She mumbled softly. "Sort of just acted. Or reacted rather. I mean.. that's all I ever seem to do. React." She sighed and poked at her pancakes, a little cut up but otherwise untouched.

"And I have followed orders. Tata took me into Attilan when they were overthrowing Miss Crystal's cousin. I did what was asked of me.." She grumbled, and rolled her eyes. For all the good it had done her.

"And don't tell me that you listen any better than I do Tommy. Hmm?" She poked her nephew over the table.


"Well, if you want to practice without them like I said. I know a thing or two about throwing a punch." He learned how to do that /before/ he had his powers. The powers just help. Admittedly, it makes it a little hard to /teach,/ because his perception of things makes it so that he could dodge… well… just about anything, if he wanted to. But he can try.

Although teaching and/or learning skills from someone like Hope or Pietro would be a different matter entirely. Hurrah for Team Speed!

"Lorna… he might have metal claws, but the biggest gun in the world won't do you much good without bullets." Which isn't a direct correlation to his point, but… "If he can't touch me, he can't cut me. I was going to get out of there as soon as I knew you were safe." That's a lie; pride would've kept him right were he was. But he's a good liar.

"Besides. If you got hurt, Erik would flip. If /I/ got hurt, nobody would gi—" he cuts himself off. There's realization that this isn't a true fact. Not anymore. Reflexively, the arm around Hope squeezes gently, and a slight smile is offered towards Lorna. Both of the women there care about him; that much has been made obvious. It's… a strange feeling, to be truthful.

"…I guess what it comes down to is once we get this crew together, we /all/ have to work better as a team. Not three individuals who do shit towards the same goal, but one /group./"


A dry look was aimed toward Tommy. "Yeah and you have an Aunt here that can stop bullets. Likely all manner of most radiation or fire or heat too. I haven't tested out how strong my magnetic fields get. But the Earth's version keeps the sun from getting us roasted, so I figure mine has to be good for something." She arched a brow, tilting her head to the side as she propped up her chin with a hand and poked at her pancakes with the other.

"My tata has already flipped his wig over my getting hurt. And we already know that your dad, and likely Billy, can patch people up. So I really, we're better off than other people out there." She grinned, and reached for her cooling hot chocolate.

"And yeah, I get that. Working together bit. But that means no telling me to go home 'cause I might get hurt. Okay? I fought off the Absorbing guy on my own enough to get away. Freaked out? Totally. But I won't break.."

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