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Lorna was bruised up and groggy to say the least from their misadventures in Spain. A concussion and more bruising and scratches than a bike wipe out made her look utterly gastly. She looked, quite plainly, like she had been hit by a flying bull. And she had.
Even attempts to cover up the bruises on her face with make up were met with limited success and she suffled every where with a pained gait. Still, anything was better than staying inside. And she had to get some prescription meds too since she'd gone to the clinic to get checked out on her own, she knew better than to dare driving at least.
The wind was brisk, and ice still crunched underfoot. Then of course, she'd run into her nephew, the speedster one at least. Which resulted in her leaning plantifly against him, and groaning softly against the glare of the noon-day sunlight.
"I never want to go to Spain again." She muttered.
*
For his part, Tommy's happy enough to play the part of human crutch. He'd already collected some meds for himself and Hope, their own injuries from the battle in Pamplona not having been quite as severe as Lorna's and requiring far less… serious medication.
"Oh, it's not /Spain's/ fault. I mean, I might hesitate to try and be on TV again, but…" Pause. "Well. For a little while at least. In shows produced by crazy psychopaths. Rich ones might be a different story entirely. Or, you know, other ones that aren't entirely crazy." Pause. "Only /after/ we take this guy out, though. We've still gotta get your pal back, afterall."
*
Amara Aquilla has spent the last few weeks back and forth between Westchester County and the City. She hasn't made much in the way of friends up in Westchester, but then, she is a senator's daughter. Such do not have 'friends'. They have 'servants'. They have 'slaves'. Friends are for the lesser folk.
Or so she tells herself, in this place where she has no servants and no slaves and no friends. The cold of New York doesn't bother her — but she misses her home in the Amazon all the same, the people who took care of her. And so the blonde, while perfectly warm as she trudges through the snowy city, ice melting beneath her sandals wherever she steps and clad only in thin white fabric wrapped up around one shoulder and held in place by a brooch and a golden belt, has an icy expression on her face, her lips set in a thin line.
The Nova Roman has never been to 'Spain', of course, but she's heard of it. In the days of the Republic they called it 'Hispania', and it was, like most of the world, part of the empire. The word causes her to pause and look toward the pair, brows furrowed. It must take nearly forever to get from here to Spain, mustn't it?
And then she remembers airplanes. And shudders.
*
Ne was't generally one to be bothered by the icey weather. That much was plainly certain to any that would look at the strangely dressed woman. With her parasol slung over her shoulder, one might question if she was even sure what the weather was, but at least she didn't look uncomfortable!
She hadn't made any Spainward trips lately, but walking her way down the street her odd-colored eyes fall across the slumped pair of Tommy and Lorna, earning a quirk of her slender brow as she catches wind of their conversation.
*
Lorna continued to lean against her nephew, green eyes only flickering up to watch where she was going. She was bundled up perhaps more than necessary, but the magetically inclined mutant clearly had had a rough time of it. With a sharp exhale that sent her brown dyed hair fluttering in front of her she rolled her eyes and then winced.
Concussions and eye rolling did not mix apparently.
"I went out on a date with a rich guy. Did I tell you that? Also met Warren Worthington when I was volunteering.. an' Tony Stark at Westchester. He tried to flirt with me 'till he thought Professor Xavier was my dad. That was funny. You should've seen his face when I got him standing.." She wiggled her fingers out before as she spoke.
"His suit has a rather nice alloy. Good steel."
*
"You went on a date?" Tommy echoes, brows arching in unison at that news. Shy little Lorna, of /all/ people, going out on a date? That was astounding in and of itself. The fact that he was rich? … and that Tony Stark, another very rich person was flirting with her? Maybe she's just a magnet that way.
"Guess you're starting to come out of your shell; that's good. Maybe you can join your nephews on a triple date sometime." Although whether Lorna's boytoy will be happy with Billy's date? Hard to say.
However, eyes are upon them and Tommy can't help but notice. He's got a bit of a sixth sense about such things. Especially when those eyes are attached to females. Green eyes glance back towards the two women, first Amara, then Ne, then back again. "You girls tourists in need of directions, or something? I'm pretty good with those. usually."
And if not, it doesn't take long to double-check.
*
Xavier, though. That definitely catches Amara's attention. She's passed Lorna and Tommy, but mention of the professor causes her to whirl around, toga flaring to her knees. "You know Xavier?" she says, voice imperious, but also, perhaps, almost pleading. The words are addressed to Lorna, but since Tommy is offering directions, her eyes quickly go to the boy. "I do not need directions — except perhaps to get as far from this city as is possible without boarding one of those ridiculous 'aeroplanes'. I just…" And here she hesitates, because she feels she's on the verge of being entirely contrary to her vision of herself. She struggles with herself for a moment before she says, "Are you… his people? Like me?" She's not even saying what she wants to say, and curses her own pride inwardly. But it's a start.
*
Strangely enough, Ne doesn't -actually- know Charles Xavier. At least, not beyond the public profile. The young mutant was from the street and a 'not-quite-petty' criminal, so she'd never seen the inside of the mansion's walls. Even so, the silent girl has clearly paused in her walk at this point, that parasol open and resting over her shoulder currently being lazily twirled by her fingers as she linstens in without any real veil of subtlty.
*
A shrug, and Lorna exhaled another gusty breath against the wind and pushed her hair back, revealing bruises and scrapes along her cheek where she'd met the pavement hard. "Yeah, this rich guy from the Frost Institute. He asked me out. Okay. Weeell, he kinda just demanded a date. Sorta showed up and said he'd get me at eight and came in a car and stuff." She pouted, "Totally not fair. But yeah. Apparently he was 'warned off me' 'cause of Tata. But he's apparently not scared either?" She squinted.
"Think he asked me out just 'cause of that." She wrinkled her nose up at the mention of a triple date. "I don't particularly think he's second date material."
The paused, nearly tripping over her own feet as the stranger asks after the Professor and she catches herself against her nephew. Blinking repeatedly. "Uh.. yes?" She frowned faintly. "My father lives with him." She shrugged, and turned around to face the the young woman, tugging her scarf tighter around herself as she shivered against the chilly wind.
"And uhmm.. yeeees?" She offered a slow and hesitant answer, brows furrowed as she eyed Amara. "Uh.. if you don't want to be in the city why are you here? Uhm if you don't mind my asking.. Miss?" A glance was spared toward the other woman with an arched brow.
*
Normally, a girl in a toga would definitely leave Tommy staring. Especially a girl in a /thin/ toga. And there's a glance because he's human, but eyes are generally kept where they belong. Honest. "Not a big fan of the city life?" Tommy replies, lips curving in amusement. "It's not for everyone, but I dig it. Airplanes, however… totally overrated." They're too slow for Tommy's taste. Of course, the Xavier name is familiar to Tommy — Lorna's mentioned it before, though she never mentioned why he might in fact be one of Xavier's people. With any luck, Lorna will pick up on the mutant vibe /for/ him.
"Nah, I haven't done the school thing for ages," Tommy replies, completely missing the mark as he holds Lorna up carefully. Right now, his attention were on his aunt and the blonde; Ne's managed to escape further notice. FOR NOW. "Oh, yeah, Her dad's like, a professor there or something." Sort've. Kinda. Tommy doesn't entirely get it, still.
*
"Rome does not offer such… educational opportunities," Amara replies, a touch of acid in her tone now. She's been sent away to learn how to use her powers, but the best she's managed was NOT opening a fault line beneath a coffee shop that wouldn't accept Roman gold as payment.
Her eyes go to the silent Ne for a moment or two, then turn back to Lorna and Tommy. "Forgive me. My name is Amara Juliana Olivians Aquilla, sole daughter and heir to Lucius Antonius Aquilla, first senator of Nova Roman, last outpost of the Roman Republic." She bows briefly, then adds in an almost perfunctory way, "It is a pleasure to meet you both."
*
Likely for reasons different to Tommy's own, the 'Toga' would catch Ne's eyes. or perhaps not, who knows? Either way there is a questioning raise of her eyebrows as she steps closer, lowering and closing the parasol in one smooth motion to leave it resting in front of her, tip against the ground and her hands resting on the curved handle. It might be a strange prospect that someone who never really speaks any word could interupt a discussion simply by walking closer and carrying a questioning expression, but Ne certainly tries. After all, they'd just been outed as Mutants, that was at least some common ground. It didn't take a detective to see at a glance she wasn't normal, even with her disguise.
*
Another glance was spared toward the otherwise silent, strange woman that approached, and then her gaze was darting back toward the… Roman? What? Lorna was very much confused, had she missed a section in her history textbook? It was possible, the girl always had her nose in science books. Anything else was mere amusement.
"Uhh. My father lives there, he doesn't teach. He's old friends with the Professor. I spent the weekends there.. for uhm.. er.. yeah 'education'.." She added, correcting Tommy as she stared at the toga wearing girl. Another burrow into her coat as the woman bowed. "Oh! I'm Lorna Dane. Er.. Nice to meet you?" She blinked and rubbed her head, looking to her nephew. "I hit my head, I know, I was out for like a long while.. but I'm not going crazy right? She's wearing a toga.." She whispered, "Also I thought Rome was like old.. and gone?" She then glanced back toward Amara.
Then her gaze bounced back toward the silent girl, "Err… can I help you?" A blink, then another as she rubbed her temples and made a pitiful noise.
*
Well. That was definitely a formal greeting. And a long name and title that Tommy would have a lot of trouble trying to remember, so he settles on… "Amara. Nice to meetcha, too. Tommy Shepherd's the name, but you can just call me Tommy." the platinum-haired boy offers, lips curving into an easy grin. "Nova Roma, huh? I've been to a /lot/ of places on our planet, but that's a new one. Is it anywhere near the regular Rome, or…?" Because he's gone to Italy a /lot./ They have really good pizza, afterall. Not to mention plenty of other excellent Italian foods.
Ne's approach certainly does interrupt the discussion, if only for Tommy to offer a polite "Hi?" with a wave of his hand. "Anything we can do for you?" …yeah, she looks a little different, but he's a teenager with platinum hair. He's not really one to talk in /that/ particular sense.
Then a look is offered back over towards Lorna and his tone drops low, "Nope, not going crazy. I kinda dig it. I mean, it's gotta be /cold/ in the Winter wearing something like that, but…" …which makes him wonder, eyes glancing back over to the Nova Roman. "…aren't you just freezing in that getup, Amara?"
*
"Nowhere near," says Amara. "My home is the Amazon. Our city is buried deep, and we've only recently made contact with… what is called modern civilization." Far less civilized than her own supposedly backwards home, in her opinion.
She's been standing in one place for a few moments now, and when Tommy asks if she's cold the corner of her mouth twists upward in amusement. She gestures toward her feet. The ice and snow have melted away within half a yard of her, leaving her standing in a puddle of water that steams in the cold air. "I rarely feel a chill," she says. "Even given the comparative heat of my home. But thank you for your concern."
*
A nod, the randomly approaching Ne doesn't actually vocalize an answer to the questions sent her way. Instead the woman just shrugs her shoulders and offers another look between the group. She's got some question, but actually asking it? That seems to be the real challenge here. She should have taken that advice and kept a notepad on her, dang it!
*
It was too bad Lorna wasn't a telepath, but it would seem, certain mutations don't run in the family. The magnokinetic sighed, and dragged a hand over her features, leaning away from her nephew for a moment with a grimace. "Okay. I think that's all of processing anything my head can take today. I seriously can't be the only person to keep running into secret Kingdoms the world just so happened to forget. Seriously starting to think that's actually my mutation." She grumbled, and pressed her hand against her temple.
"This is getting so old. How much royalty is there for me to rung into?" She muttered and glanced from Amara to the silent figure and back to Tommy.
"Can you run me back to your apartment? I think I need to lay down. My head is pounding and I can't process another impossibility today, something about Rome? And Attilan are just too darn close to the other." She wrinkled her nose up faintly.
"Sorry, uhm.. Miss Amara.. and uhm Miss..err.." She glanced toward the silent woman and back.
"I got hit by a flying bull the other day. Excuse me while my nephew makes sure I don't pass out on you all."
*
Tommy's eyebrows go up in unison as Amara responds and Tommy /notices/ the puddle she's standing in. Suffice it to say, /that/ girl's definitely not your typical New Yorker — although a lot of the people he meets don't seem to be anything near normal these days.
Then Lorna's asking to be taken back to his place — words that could be taken so wrong by people who don't realize the relation, and Tommy nods. He dips down to pick her up into his arms — better than just tossing her over a shoulder, afterall. "Hang on tight," …then there's a glance back towards Amara and Ne, before he adds, "I'll be back in a bit, ladies. Don't miss me /too/ much." he quips, flashing an amused grin…
…and just like that? He, and the Lorna he was carrying, are both gone. Were they ever there in the first place? Oh, definitely. The footsteps in the snow are proof of /that./
*
Flying bull. And both gone with the speed of Mercury. Well, there can be no doubt, whether they are directly attached to Xavier or not, Lorna and her… friend are definitely Xavier's type of people. But now she is alone with the quiet girl, and Amara turns her attention to Ne because… well, she's the only other one there. "You are very quiet," she observes. "You are mute?" She considered the word 'dumb' — but it felt somewhat inappropriate, under the circumstances.
*
Well…that rush at least answered her question. At least one of them was a mutant! Still she's left with a sudden rush of snow and a lot less company. Amara however, not only remains but seems happy to ask the rather forward question most avoid. Blinking, the oddly-dressed girl holds up a hand, fingers spaced apart in the signal of 'a little bit'. How can one be 'A little bit' mute? Good question.
*
Indeed, this receives another of Amara's half smiles. It is the most she offers, for the most part. She nods her understanding. "The son of one of the slaves was mute," she observes. "His tongue was cut out by his father's former owner — a horrendous punishment, but it was within the man's rights. He would carry a slate and chalk. Though I imagine something of the sort has been suggested to you." Her lips purse. "It must be difficult to communicate otherwise, though."
*
Was it possible to chuckle without making a noise? Seems so. Ne simply leans forwards and pokes her tongue out at the woman. Whatever the reason for her lack of speaking, it wasn't that particular disfigurement. The suggestion of a slate? That does however earn a nod before she tilts her head to the side. They'd already outed themselves as mutants, so she didn't need to be quite as cautious as usual. Raising one delicate hand, she traces letters in the air, a soft glowing light remaining for a few moments in the wake of each movement. <I forgot my notepad> she writes out, giving a little shrug of sheepish guilt.
*
Amara ahs softly, nodding her understanding. "Then it need not matter as much for you as for some," she agrees. "You have a useful ability. And what is your name?" Her brows peak as she moves toward the other girl — Ne cannot be so much younger than Amara herself.
*
A closer look at those 'lights' might actually reveal that they appear to be softly glowing snowflakes…or maybe they're chilling the air to the point that's what they've become. Light being cold certainly isn't normal, but normal is really up for grabs when it comes to mutants. Amara's words earn a bright smile, the compliment taken well before she lifts her hand from the handle of her umbrella to trace the air again. <Ne> is traced out in the air as the other lettering fades. A tilt of her head makes it clear she's questioning the other woman's own name out of politeness, even if she'd already eavesdropped it earlier
*
"Amara," the blonde says. She knows full well that Ne heard it before — but it wasn't eavesdropping to her eyes. After all, she didn't hide that she was listening. She just couldn't easily add her own words without making her mutation known. "Sole daughter, et cetera, et cetera. Very nice to meet you. Nay? Nee? I'm not sure how you pronounce that."
*
A counting on her fingers in answer, the tapping of her middle finger indicates that the second was the correct one. The hand comes up again and her name is traced in full: 'Neapolitan' written out in the air before she sweeps a hand through all letters but the first two, leaving the already given name the only one remaining. A tilt of her head now, the mute woman gestures to the space around them, a broad general sweep with a questioning expression making it clear she's asking what brings the woman to the city.
*
Amara pauses, considering the word. Neapolis. They call it Naples now. But she knows how to pronounce the word — or, at the very least, she knows how they pronounced it in Rome. She'll run with it. 'Nay', approximately, to her mind. "I was the first mutant in Nova Roma, and my abilities…" Her nose wrinkles slightly. "My abilities are not the most… civically oriented. I was sent to learn to control what I do. And avoid more volcanoes arising in the middle of the public square."
*