1964-10-16 - Not a Kidnapper! Honest!
Summary: Doc Samson goes looking for Bruce Banner in Mutant Town and runs into a young hot headed mutant who thinks he's there for nefarious purposes! Alls well that ends well though. New friends are made.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
lorna vesper doc-samson 

Mutant Town. Not exactly the nicest part of the city, but it survives through a sense of community and togetherness, us against the world, backing each other up. Not that it doesn't have it's own problems and sources of friction but there are a few unifying forces that can cause people to band together… or run to the hills. Sometimes it just causes a rumor mill to start up and the reactions are mixed. When the black van pulled up in the center of Mutant Town people were a bit curious mostly because the vehicle hadn't been seen before. Then of course there was the tinted windows, the government plates, and people might have started to get worried.

When Leonard Samson got out of the driver seat wearing a white labcoat, a button up shirt, and a pair of black slacks who knows what people would think of the huge guy with the long green hair that was currently pulled back into a ponytail. Black rimmed glasses are set on his face and when he opened up the back of the van to pull out a huge device that bore no resemblance to anything remotely /normal/ that's when the rumors started going around. The device was roughly the size and shape of a refrigerator, with pipes and tubes going this way and that, a slight padded indentation on one side that is used for a shoulder rest. When he turned it on and it started humming and beeping with a multitude of green and red lights things began to get interesting.

Picking up the device as if it weighed nothing and slinging it comfortably over his shoulder the huge scientist grabbed a tube with a display panel on the end of it and began to swing it around this way and that. He used his hip to close the doors on the van and started to happily sweep the end in his hand around, waving it at people as he started down the sidewalk. Lights flashed, beeping grew louder, and he made his way over towards the community center with a perplexed look on his face.

Lorna hated men in labcoats. Call it a survival tool at this point in her life. She'd been at the mercy of men in white coats before, and did not enjoy her stay. It would seem she was carrying on the family tradition at this point. One family or another, at least. Something inside the green haired magnokinetic had been broken for months, her network of support and family had long since broken down.

Which left a very angry, very violent, mutant woman behind in place of the once bubbly college student at the Xavier Institute. Now she had fully embraced the philosphies that Raven had once spouted off at her. Such as greeting strangers arriving in Mutant Town with hostility.

As soon as word of a black van had shown up, with tinted windows and a man in a coat, Lorna had taken off in search of it. Not that it was hard. And she didn't particularly waste time with pleasantries when she'd finally spotted the strange man with a giant machine on his back. With an enraged snarl pulling back her features she threw a hand up, making to rip the machine up into the air, including the person connected to it. She pulled hard, dragging the machine and man toward her on the side of the street and toward a brick building's side.

"Who are you and what do you think you're doing in Mutant Town?"

Mutant Town is a closed off community. Everyone welcome need not apply. Otherwise invisible barriers and gates keep out randoms. Randoms, a few teens sneaking in to get a look at the freaks. They chatter and dare one another to rush past. Medical aid and legal activists show up from time to time. Now and then some break the mold. Vesper is one of them. She stands apart as a low-key, unassuming young lady in a very nice belted trenchcoat emerging from the community center.

Her guide is an older woman in her fifties. The matron has delicate scaling over her cheekbones and temples. "My goodness, dear, what is that?" The exclamation at the sight of a big contraption has the older woman gaping and struggling for words. Next to her, Vesper is stilled from tripping out a few steps more. She pushes her sunglasses up the slope of her nose. Great big round disks of brown-black glass scream anonymity and classic grace.

"Pardon," she says to the man wielding that thing. Thing. What else is it called? "What are you doing with that?" It certainly doesn't look safe. It hardly looks legal.

The fact that Samson is getting odd looks, startled reactions, and even worse is completely lost on the scientist as he waves the tube and it's display around and takes readings. His steps towards the community center are not the fastest as he is being pretty methodical. When he is addressed by Vesper he says, "I am tracking the dispersal of different types of en-." Whatever else he is about to say to Vesper is cut off because all of the sudden the device on his shoulder is being yanked up into the air and him along with it and he looks surprised, "I did not put a flight mechanism in this…" Is said mostly to himself before he is suddenly launched over towards the alley near to Lorna, and more importantly towards the building wall.

Flipping around using the device for a leverage point, "I say!" He exclaims, putting the display and detector port back into it's harness before he puts his feet towards the brick wall and then /lands/ on it, his legs absorbing the impact with a bend of his knee to try and minimize any damage to the wall, and to his device as that arm flexes to stop it's motion entirely. 'Standing' on the side of the wall and looking down at Lorna he reaches up to press his glasses more firmly onto the bridge of his nose so they don't fall off. "I'm Leonard Samson and I'm looking for a friend of mine. He tends to stand out sometimes, figured he might be in the area." Still holding his glasses to his face he looks back and forth between Vesper, her guide, and Lorna, "Whichever one of you is doing this, do you mind stopping please?"

Lorna didn't seem intent on letting up on the magnetic pressure she held on the stranger and his machine. In fact, if it was at all possible she seemed intent on increasing the magnetic-forces she was shoving down on. Even as the man introduced himself and managed to look affronted. "A friend of you happen to be looking for with that giant thing strapped on your back, showing up in a black van into Mutant Town? I don't think so. You can't just walk in here looking for new test subjects. Not anymore. I know the Brotherhood is gone, but you can send a message back to whoever you work for, that Mutant Town is protected." She snarled, her hand still out stretched and clenched.

Her green hair starting to float around her in the magnetic fields that were practically leaping on her in droves. Enough that little pieces of loose scrap—wires, nails, screws and other chunks of metal started to roll down the street toward her. "And I will be damned if I let you labcoats come strolling in here whenever you want!"

Not something one sees everyday, objects floating in space sideways and around a corner into a convenient alley. The alleys in Mutant Town absolutely represent the worst in New York. Dirty and full of garbage overflowing from dumpsters, not somewhere for somewhere to go. Her eyes widen behind her huge sunglasses. The employee escorting her utters a startled sound and hastens inside. Not at all like someone can call the police and expect to help. Thus the petite French geneticist is left on her own to fend for herself. She puts her hands deep into the pockets of her coat and takes a long breath, all Gallic je ne sais quoi. Now is a good time to flee.

She does not make very much noise walking to the mouth of the alley. Neither is there anything to signal her activity. "You're upsetting people with that," she says. No mistaking her for being French, it's in every rolled R and slipped vowel. "Looking for a friend with this? Monsieur, most of us use a telephone or post a letter. I believe you have spooked madame." Metal on her is largely confined to her earrings, and she clamps her hands over them, resisting their tug.

Cocking his head ever so slightly to the side as he feels the magnetic pressure build and observes Lorna's power begin to manifest much more visibly Leonard looks remarkably comfortable with the situation all things considered. Taking off his black rimmed glasses he folds them up and slips them into the pocket on his white labcoat. His attention moves over towards Vesper at the mouth of the alley briefly and he smiles wryly, the corners of his lips only curling upwards, "Yes so I have gathered." He can hear the metal on his machine starting to twist and crumple and he winces briefly. Looking at Lorna he says calmly, "I understand that Mutant Town is a place of isolation. That the isolation is both for protection and at times desire. It is that very isolation and the physical discrepancies that sometimes accompany the genetic sequence that leads to an expression of the 'X' factor that leads me here. My friend would be able to fit in and go unnoticed but he still needs help. I am seeking him out to help him with his problem, not looking for test subjects. I promise you."

Then as if to prove his point he reaches up to take hold of the machine on his shoulder with both hands. A flex of his muscles and he forces it to move against Lorna's magnetic pull which only causes more damage to the machine. Holding it out in front of him he presses in and starts to crush it like a beer can, or a car in a compactor, making it a much denser metal ball, but definitely not a working object. It's a slow, deliberate crushing, and then once he is sure it can't be salvaged at all he lets go to drop down to the ground in the alley and land nimbly. "I am not your enemy. The machine was designed to trace tiny traces of Gamma Radiation but it required shielding so that my own emissions did not interfere with it's sensors. My only hope is to find Bruce before he has another episode and causes devastation."

Lorna let up on her magnetic assault only when she realzied the man was able to move against it. She frowned, scowled and then finally released her grip, letting all the magnetically pulled or pushed items fall away. She let her hand drop as well, and took a step back, straightening from the hunched forward posture she'd taken up.

"I understood maybe two words out all that." She muttered stiffly, crossing her arms as she gave the man space. "If your friend doesn't want to be found then maybe it's for the better, ever think of that?" She continued, grumbling. She didn't want to admit that she'd jumped the gun. But it was still for the better than leaving a strange man in a labcoat wandering around loose.

Earrings go back to Vesper's palm instead of trying to punch through it. The buttons on her coat need a bit of help, the threads tugged this way and that. She looks terribly put out by this if the small frown can be an accurate gauge. Fussing with her buttons takes some time to correct while the green-haired woman and green-haired man have some sort of extraneous family spat. "He's conducting research. You were looking for a specific signature not commonplace among the rest of the denizens here, oui? Like radar, but for an individual person." The questions are directed to the doctor here, not a trace of doubt or hesitation for embellishment. See geneticist. See geneticist think.

"Unfortunate for your machine. Next time, maybe you should wear a sweater, jeans, running shoes?" Helpful are the French in matters of fashion. Conscience, verdict is out. "Why did you attack him? That's just going to give people here a bad name they don't deserve."

As the ball of metal and crushed sensors falls to the ground, all three tons of it Samson reaches out to catch it with one hand like it /were/ a basketball rather than let it hit the ground and cause any damage to the alley… not that the alley really would notice, all the junk around might actually have provided a buffer.. but better safe than sorry. "Sometimes people need to be helped whether they want it or not, because it is unsafe to others. The easiest way to think of it would be like a person new to their powers, who had the ability to destroy whole blocks with their ability but lacked control over it. It's not their fault they haven't received training or practice yet, but the amount of death and destruction they could cause would be incalculable. In that situation even if they want to be left alone the hazard they are to everyone else means we must do what we can to help them. It is the same with my friend, his powers are not something he can control and the devastation he can cause is tremendous. I just want to help him."

Straightening his labcoat Doc Samson looks down at himself, "Hmmm you are probably correct." He says to Vesper, "I had just finished putting the gamma tracker together with enough shielding to not get false positives from my own hands and wanted to put it to work. It picked up not a specific frequency of gamma radiation, but specific /amounts/. There is a baseline amount of gamma radiation of course through the dispersal of cosmic rays throughout the solar system but the amount that my friend puts off is well above that and anywhere he has been for any length of time would be detectable if I got close enough." He does however take off his labcoat and folds it up over one arm. "I do not fault her for wanting to protect her community." He gestures over towards Lorna, "No harm was done that cannot be undone. I can always build another one." He smiles, "Might I get your names?"

Lorna shot Vesper a hot tempered look, her lips twisting as she scowled. "Because someone has to keep an out for men in labcoats and unmarked black vans showing up. Or would you prefer that mutants keep getting picked up by whatever mad-house lab wants new test subjects. If you're so interested, I'm sure it can be arranged for you to be on the steel table next." She snapped back, arching a green brow. Her hands shoved into her pockets as she barely with held her contempt.

"And you can talk about how much reputation matters to the next kid that doesn't come back home when he goes out for a walk 'cause he looked mutant. I'm sure their parents will be thrilled to listen." She continued, waspish in the extreme. Then green eyes, narrowed, turned on the man that was far more than he first appeared.

"What does your friend look like? I don't know everyone here, but I've made it my business to know when new people show up. And you can call me Polaris."

"Because men in labcoats could not possible be medical or clinical staff, practicing proper hygiene, or required to wear such a uniform even here. I would, in most official capacities. People would expect it and keeping clothes clean and easily washed is important." Brisk and quiet in reply, she doesn't back down her backbone. "Your concerns are probably not without a basis. They are not common to everyone. People aren't being snatched off the streets every hour by someone in a white coat. The black van and the apparatus are unfortunate additions. Context, monsieur. For your future endeavours, managing something a bit more discreet? This may surely help you."

She doesn't remotely look impressive or suggest any powers at hand other than the scalpel of logic and the razor of wit. Both are moderately well employed. "Neither is it appropriate to apply your experiences, madame, on everyone else here. Do you randomly attack everyone you meet?"

Doc Samson frowns and looks towards Vesper, "You are not helping." He says softly, "When a person or culture has been abused and victimized it becomes second nature to defend ones self against abuse and to expect it especially if it has become systemic. Unfortunately our society has become systemic in the abuse of people who are considered 'outside' the norm, and until that day when the entire idea of 'social norm' has become extinct in the public eye it is a very real problem for those whom society has determined to be outside that social norm. This whole situation is entirely my fault and could have been prevented if I hadn't been so wrapped up in my research and in my desire to immediately try and help my friend. The only blame rests with me."

Looking over towards Lorna, Leonard says seriously, "I apologize Polaris for making you think I was something I am not. My friend is in his mid thirties, skinny, black hair, very unassuming in appearance so he will be able to blend in easily almost anywhere if he tries. That is why I needed the gamma tracker."

Lorna inhaled a sharp breath as she glowered at Vesper, her teeth clenching until they creaked. "You want to try to lecture me? Go for it, but I'll make you sit down and listen to each and every family memeber that has lost someone here. I got snatched less than six months ago. And you know what I saw there? Dozen of mutants being taken. And my story isn't unique in the least. You can get off your damned high horse for five minutes and you'll see why I am so protective of the people here." She snarled, her features twisting in more anger.

"My entire family has at one point or another been at the wrong end of a labcoat's inspections. My father's family is entirely dead because of that same hatred that fuels them." She looked thunderous and almost to the point that her anger would take over before she exhaled and took several pacing steps away down the alley and back. Her hands curled into fists before she was calm enough to listen to the otherwise chill guy in a labcoat.

She swallowed a breath, giving him the time to talk and then she slowly nodded. "Sorry about your machine." She glanced back toward and then to the man again.

"And yeah, I think I've seen him before over in Central Park. He told me was a scientist, he was meditating. He helped me with some of my anger issues. Nice guy. He didn't seem like he was going to go off anytime soon."

"You are not the mayor of Mutant Town, madame. You do not speak for every last member of the ghetto. Assuming you do is a dangerous beginning, as you shut out viewpoints that may not be your own and marginalize those perspectives that do not match your own. If the prevailing opinion becomes that Mutant Town is hostile to physicians and doctors, do you think anyone in the profession will come? Is there a greater danger to immediately reacting by hurting something? Yes, Doctor, maybe you feel this is a sacrifice you could afford to make but not everyone is either so successful or so wealthy. Vials of medicine shattered because they could be rumored as harmful cost something to replace. For all you knew, he could have been doing something critically important for the good of the community. You didn't check to make certain." She meets anger with that rather quiet stoicism much more common on the continent than in North America. Self-possessed and quiet, her.

"You are not the only person who hurts. Society cannot function if the first reaction is lashing out. Yes, monsieur, you made an error but that does not justify the reaction. Or else do I take offense to her being so reckless and end that threat in kind, because I have experienced my own form of persecution and fear? That sort of thinking becomes terribly dangerous."

Doc Samson drops the metal ball that was his gamma tracker and catches it on one foot like it was a soccer ball, holding up his hands palm forwards to both of the women, "I think this entire thing has been a miscommunication, and no real harm was done this time so we can at least be thankful for that." He smiles, looking back and forth between Lorna and Vesper, "This is a debate that has perplexed psychologists for over a hundred years and most likely isn't going to be solved today here and now." He laughs softly with a wider smile, "Not that I mind a good debate on psychology, that was my first Doctorate. Psychology. I just think if we are going to get into a deep philosophical debate about the different types of responses to different socio-economic and historical factors we should do so with a nice cup of coffee, tea, or your beverage of choice and comfortable seating. So do either of you know of a good coffee shop or diner nearby?" He tries to defuse the situation as best he can.

Looking back towards Lorna, "Central Park? I don't know if that's him, he would normally avoid crowds… but I will definitely take a look." Doc Samson says to her with a smile, "Thank you."

Lorna looked about ready to lose it on the woman right there in the alley way. Her cheeks reddened and she took a step toward her, only to find the Doctor interceeding. A sharp look was leveled toward Vesper, but nothing futher happened. Lorna reached up to drag her hand through her hair and glanced back to the Doctor. "No thank you." She muttered stiffly, her lips thinning. "Talking does nothing."

A rough exhale followed and Lorna twisted around to pace, rocking her weight back onto her heels. "I saw him a month or so go. Maybe more at this point. He wasn't around others. He was in a clearing out beyond where the park normally allows people to be. I was cutting through." She shrugged.

"I came tromping through."

Vesper smiles. No more and then no less. "I would disagree, madame; talking is always welcome. Especially as someone of your study clearly has a broad educational background. Though if the thinkers of a century did not have a breakthrough, we are endowed with the tools now to reexamine the situation. Maybe the right viewpoint will overturn conventional wisdom, and open different corridors. However, I don't believe madame there has anything to contribute towards me except violence, so I shall take you up another time. I won't put you or others at risk."

Her sunglasses haven't moved. A good thing. It keeps that mild persona. "I prefer less contentious company. At least I prefer company which listens. Au revoir."

"Communication is the basis for understanding. Without communication we are acting on nothing more than instict, nothing better than base animals. Talking can solve nearly any problem if all those participating are willing and open to understanding." Doc Samson says simply, "If we cannot even attempt to understand the other, then all we are doing is perpetuating the same attitudes and activities that are currently happening. We must, as a culture, as a society, as civilization, be willing to communicate if we are going to solve any problem for good." He sighs and frowns, raking his hands through his hair and pulling his ponytail out there and shaking his hair loose. "Enjoy the rest of your day ma'am." He says to Vesper and then looks back towards Lorna, kicking up his ball of metal into one hand he tosses it gently up and down though it hits his palm with a crunch each time. "Are you hungry Polaris?" He asks curiously, "Can you show me the best place to eat here in Mutant Town?"

Lorna huffed a breath, her lips peeling back as she fought off the urge to spout off again. Instead she shoved her hands into her pockets, and hunched her shoulders, scowling as she turned away. She glanced toward the gentleman that remained and arched a brow. "There's not much in terms of fine eating establisments." She drawled with a dry, sarcastic lilt of her voice.

Though she started forward down the alley toward the street again. "But there's a diner a few streets over that won't kill you. I guess. The chef that runs the place has four arms. Which is pretty neat." She scratched the back of her head as she walked, pursing her lips together.

"Are you sure you want to grab food with the crazy, angry mutant girl? Because I've been told I'm a real bitch to be around. And I did sorta attack you." She glanced back to him. "Granted it wasn't quite as bad as when I first came to Mutant Town and the Brotherhood was still active here…"

"Absolutely." Doc Samson answers immediately, "For nothing else you have an excellent taste or just the benefit of awesome genetics in your hair color." He holds a bunch of his own green locks out. "See I don't consider that an attack since you were just trying to protect your own. I was the one who destroyed the gamma tracker." Those broad shoulders of his roll in a slight shrug and he smiles down at her. "Four arms does sound pretty neat and I'd rather talk where you're comfortable. So as long as it doesn't kill us… or interrupt conversation with emergency trips to the restroom it should do just fine." He carries the ball of ruined machinery out of the alley and towards his van, where he puts the remains of the machinery away. "Is it walking distance, or should we drive?"

Lorna eyed the van as they came out of the alley and shook her head. "Walking is fine." She offered dryly, arching a brow as she looked back at him and shrugged.

"I was born this way. At least, as far as I can tell. There's no one left alive from when I was born, it looks like. It's what happens when Nazis storm small Polish towns." She offered a thin smile as she walked, figuring that he'd follow regardless.

"Why is your hair green? You born that way or was it some experiment gone wrong?" She shoved her hands into her pockets. Still keeping an eye on him. Just because she was being civil didn't mean she trusted the man. Not yet.

"I suppose you could say it was an experiment but it definitely did not go wrong." Doc Samson says to Lorna with a chuckle, "Everything actually functioned perfectly, though I did get lucky. I am entirely certain that it takes a certain genetic marker, probably not dissimilar to what makes you a mutant, to survive the amount of Gamma Radiation that I absorbed. Most people would simply die from it, pretty much instantly." He considers, "You ever heard of The Hulk?" Locking the van after putting the remains in there he also stashes his labcoat, and takes off his button up shirt leaving him just in a red tank-top with a golden lightning bolt horizontal across the chest. Displays a lot of that broad expanse of shoulders and chest, but he doesn't look like a scientist at all anymore.

That done he rakes his fingers through his hair again to shake it into the loose curls that it normally is and Samson moves to catch up with Lorna, walking along beside her but not trying to invade her personal space. "A lot of horrific things have been done, and are still being done. Not everyone is like that though. Not everyone is a monster."

Lorna fell silent as she listened, slowing her walk enough to at least give the guy an easier time of catching up to her as he tended to locking up the van. She smirked faintly at a thought that seemed to amuse her in regards to it, but otherwise she didn't say anything. At least now he looked less like some labcoat and more like some guy that might be out for a walk. With the green hair beside her? He could easily pass as a mutant. There wouldn't be anymore strange looks aimed their way now.

"Yeah.. heard of 'em. Big green guy, right? He trashed some part of New York last year." She shrugged, "I just figured he's a mutant or alien.. or never mind. There's too much out there." She frowned faintly, and folded her arms as she walked.

"No one is a monster. They're just people. And people are scary on their own. Because no one ever does something they think is wrong." She pursed her lips together and glanced his way.

"Same thing that made the Hulk into what he is, is what made me into what I am. I just don't have the misfortune of turning into a giant green rage monster. I did get this awesome hair color through it though." He smiles over at Lorna, "So all things considered… I think the experiment was a success. It could have been much worse, I could have gone /bald/. Don't think I have a good face for that." Doc Samson reaches up and places his hands on his chin and cheeks, "Nope. Dodged a bullet there." Another chuckle as he walks down the street with Lorna to wherever it is she is leading him. Diner, or wherever. He wouldn't know the difference.

"People do stuff they /know/ is wrong all the time. They just justify it until it becomes 'acceptable'." Doc Samson says conversationally, "There are those cases where people believe something isn't wrong for whatever reasons, but usually that is due to fear or education and the lack thereof. Most people are inherently good and decent individuals, it's just when they are afraid they react poorly, they lash out. They might even think they are doing it for the right reason, like protecting their own, but the real /monsters/ are those who perpetuate those ideas, they reinforce them, either to give themselves power or out of hate."

Lorna led him up to a greasy spoon diner, the sign having long since given way to decay in corners. Though there was no rust anywhere in sight. The magnokinetic prided herself in helping out in small ways. Such as clearing out rust where she saw it in Mutant Town. Reinforcing fire-escapes and rebuilding pipes that burst or never saw a single day of maitence.

Still, as she came up to the door and held it open for Leonard. A green eyebrow shooting upwards as he moved from joking to indept analysis of people's natures. She frowned, and made a zooming motion over her head. "Are you a teacher? Because you really should consider that line of profession. You're good at talking a lot. You know that?" She blinked and turned around to greet the hostess with a grin and a friendly wave. The two were escorted over to a booth and left with menus before being left to look over the plastic encased and coffee stained menu.

Doc Samson chuckles and offers a smile and a nod of greeting to the waitress as well before he looks back to Lorna and answers her question, "No, I am not a teacher. I am a doctor and a scientist." He places meaty forearms on the table after he waitsfor Lorna to sit and then slips into the other side of the booth at their table. Taking up the menu he looks at the offerings, "I do talk a lot at first… but really I am better at listening than talking." He turns the menu over to look at the back and then opens it up to glance inside. "I think it is always better to talk things out if you can, a lot of misconceptions can be broken, a lot of misunderstandings cleared up, if people just talked first." He lifts his right shoulder in a half a shrug, "What do you suggest Polaris?" He asks, tapping the menu lightly with one fingertip.

Lorna pursed her lips together and shrugged, "You remind me of a teacher I had once. He's technically a doctor too. That's all." She murmured off-handedly and dragged a hand through her hair. She glanced over the menu, but clearly already knew what she wanted.

"Burgers are good. So are the fries. Avoid the meatloaf. The shakes are good. And all the pies are great." She muttered and set the menu off to the side by the edge of the table. Clearly, she was done with looking over it or making the appearance that she was.

"I don't talk things out anymore. Not since I got told to shut up." Her voice and expression equal parts bitterness and anger. "It's not like I have anything good to say these days."

"Anyone who tells someone to shut up is perpetuating all the problems that exist… or at least, they can be." Doc Samson says seriously, "Telling someone to shut up indicates that they aren't even open to new ideas. They actively oppose them. Now, that's not to say that people shouldn't stop talking, they should, because if you're talking you're not /listening/ to what anyone else has to say. Communication is a two way street, anything less is just dictating." He sets the menu down as well, on top of Lorna's so that the waitress knows they are ready to order, "Order whatever you like Polaris, my way of saying thanks for showing me the best place to eat in this part of town." He smiles softly but then folds his hands one over the top of the other and rests his chin on the back of his hand lightly. "I'm never going to tell you to shut up Polaris. That is the opposite of who I am."

Lorna exhaled a breath, arching a brow, even as she folded her hand atop the table and leaned forward slightly. "Look, I'm sorry that I wrecked your stuff and I wish I knew more about your friend. You're a good friend to care enough to go find him." And there was a crease of her brows as she spoke. An old hurt flashed over her features at that and she shook her head.

"I don't have the network the Brotherhood had here. I can't tell if he's been around here or not. I just try to do my best to keep out for suspicious people lurking in Mutant Town and try to stop them." She rubbed her temples with both of her hands and leaned back. "Do little things here and there. I don't.. I really don't have much to talk about anymore."

Doc Samson looks at Lorna with concern briefly touching his face at the mention of his friend, "I'll find him. I just hope I find him before he has another episode." He sighs, "As for the stuff… it's just stuff. It can be rebuilt, and I should probably rebuild it smaller and less obtrusive." He smiles a little wryly, "It is just expedient to build something large when you don't really care about the mass and dimensions of something." He looks at his hands, shrugs, "You're pretty impressive yourself, you moved a lot of weight easily. I am assuming, based on your name, that it is ferro-kinesis… magnetism? I noticed that all the objects being tossed around in the alley were metal." He smiles, "I am sure you do a lot to help people, more than just little things. You shouldn't sell yourself short."

Then the waitress is coming over to get their orders and Doc orders a double cheeseburger with all the trimmings, a large fries, and a large chocolate milkshake for himself. He'll wait for Lorna to place her order and the waitress to depart before continuing, "I think you have a lot you want to talk about. A lot to get off your chest. Hit me with it Polaris, let it out, get it out of the way and clear the air." He smiles gently, "I can take it. Free of charge."

Lorna blinked, not having expected the Doc to catch exactly what she was able to do. "Magnokinesis. Yeah. I can do anything that the magnetic spectrum can do. Manipulate electricity.. iron, nickle, colbolt and so on." She flexed her fingers briefly. "I've been able to a lot of different things with it." She mumbled, and shrugged, looking down at the table top.

Then the waitress was there and Lorna ordered a slice of apple pie, and a burger, milkshake and fries. Then she turned her gaze back to the gentleman opposite of her. She clearly wasn't going to hold back on food because some stranger was going to pay for it. Still, as he offered to be a willing ear she shook her head.

"I don't like to talk about it. I dropped out of therapy for a reason."

"Fair enough." Doc Samson says after a few moments, "I am sorry to hear that you quit though. You seem like a strong woman who can handle just about everything life throws at her. It's often the hardest things we do that are the most rewarding and worth doing though. If it were easy… everyone would do it." He lays his hands down flat on the top of the table, "If you ever change your mind, I will always be available Polaris… unless I am off saving the world or something." He smiles, "It does happen occasionally."

Lorna arched a brow as she considered the man opposite of her. "It's real nice and all that you want to play therapist to a messed up mutant. Really. You're a cool guy. And I appreciate the sentiment." The waitress came back with the milkshakes and Lorna flashed her a smile and thanked her. Then her attention returned to the chocolate confection and she sipped at it for a long moment.

"But trust me when I say that I'm not worth the time or the effort."

Doc Samson smiles wider at that, "Well I guess we'll just have to disagree on that. I definitely don't think it would be a waste of my time at all. I think the opposite as a matter of fact." He takes his straw out of the milkshake he'd ordered and uses the long spoon to stir it up since when first made they tend to be super thick and stirring helps break it up. "If I could help everyone in the world, I would. Everyone has value." He gestures around with his spoon to indicate the establishment, or maybe the area, or the city, or everything. "We all touch other lives every day. We all deserve the opportunity to be happy and content. I've never met anyone who has had a perfect idyllic life, or has gone through everything without needing help, or companionship. It's a basic fundamental need for emotional beings. Your being a mutant doesn't matter to me at all." He takes a spoon full of his shake and places it in his mouth to savor the flavor. "This is good." He says after a few moments of enjoyment.

Lorna rolled her eyes at his first few words, as if she'd heard them before. Still, she sipped at her milkshake and fell silent as Doc Samson spoke. She let the moment settle before she spoke, and when she did her voice was quieter than before. "Trust me when I say that I'm not worth your time or effort. I don't want to become someone's pet sympathy project. I know you mean well and all, but I don't want it. There's no point." She swirled her straw around in her milkshake, her gaze averted.

"I'm better off alone. I get more done anyways."

Doc Samson listens and is silent for a few long moments, either letting her think she had headed off the conversation or taking the time to come up with a response. "That's fine. I can't make you and I wouldn't want to in the first place. I'm still going to disagree on whether or not it would be a waste of my time though. At the very least, it'd give me an excuse to get to know you that wouldn't come across as 'Oh my god this guy I just met is totally a creeper'." He smiles when the rest of their food shows up and then takes a fry to dip into his milkshake and eat after thanking the waitress. "I do think it is a bit silly to think you can get more done alone than you can with help and support though. I can do a lot, I still can't be everywhere at once, and do everything I wish I could. There are wrongs being done right now that I probably could do something about if I were there. Same for you." He points a new french fry at her, "But we're still mere mortals capable of only being in one place at a time." Another dip into his shake and he eats the french fry.

Shrugging, Doc Samson picks up his burger and turns it around to study it from all sides before he picks one to take a bite, chew, and swallow before speaking again. "Definitely not a pet project or a sympathy case either." He says mostly to himself with a frown following that.

Lorna shot him a look, even as the food arrived and she reached for a fry for herself. "Why do you want to even know me? Again, crazy green haired mutant. Not exactly the poster child for 'lets be friends'." She drawled, and reached for her burger.

"Because it gets to a point where you're ignoring common sense in even wanting to get to know me. That or you're idealism is really out of whack." She trailed off after that, falling silent as she ate her food and sipped at her milkshake. Either something she'd said bothered her or something she'd thought of certainly had.

"Lots of reasons." Doc Samson says without missing a beat, "One, you've got green hair, it's sort of a rarified trait and not something I have in common with a lot of people. Two, as someone who's family was persecuted and killed I actually /do/ know a lot more about how you feel than you think. Three, I may not be a mutant, but I am mutated. I'm not normal by any stretch of the word to most people. You said it yourself, just because of my hair people would just assume I was a Mutant right? Four, you could have attacked me with intent to do harm when you thought I was here to kindap mutants but you didn't. You're not an unreasonable person you're just hurting. I don't like to see people hurt when I can do something about it and I think I can. Five, I think I'm one of the few people on this planet that you don't have to worry about accidentally hurting and that is something that I think you could use. Six, beneath everything you put forth for the world to see, I think there's a lot more to you than that and I want to know /that/ person." He asks, "Shall I continue? There's more, if you're interested."

Lorna hesitated in speaking again as she listened to the good Doctor Samson. She let the silence settle between them after he stopped listing his various reasons and she pursed her lips, averting her eyes. "No. It's.. it's cool." She mumbled, picking up a fry and shoving it around on her plate in the ketchup. She lifted those green eyes of her's that matched her hair color so well.

"I just don't think it's a good idea. No one wants me around after they get to know me." Her voice small and faintly brittle in quality. "None of my friends came to check up on me when I dropped out of school. No one in my family wants me around anymore. I just hurt people that spend time around me."

"One of my good friends is The Hulk." Doc Samson says softly, "When he has an episode, we fight, I've fought him several times… and yet. I'm still here." He smiles over at her, "Please don't take offense to this, your power is amazing, I am sure you can be terribly dangerous to most people, but…" His smile grows a little wry, eyes sparkling with amusement, "You're no Hulk. You're not going to hurt me. I think I've proven that I'm just a bit to stubborn for my own good too. So… I'm afraid you're stuck with me Polaris. I can't change what happened to you, it's our past that makes us who we are today but… I can say I'm not them." And then he picks up his burger again to take another bite, enjoying the meal for what it is, and the company apparently.

Lorna glanced up from her burger as he spoke, and offered a faint curl of her lips in return. She let the silence hang between them for a long moment and she seemed to enjoy the food at least. A few moments later she shrugged. "I'm not just talking about power. I just happen to be a mentally unstable, inconsiderate bitch to put it frankly. Even managed to piss off my sister enough that she said we're not family anymore." She grimaced at that and looked down at her plate.

"Think I've managed to push away anyone that I ever cared about without needing any iron to do it."

"Oh ho…" Doc Samson says with a small smile, "I would take that as something of a victory. Being able to push someone away means that they care enough about you that what you think, what you do, /matters/ to them. It means that they don't want to be hurt anymore, which means… they still care. While there is life, there is hope for the future, there is no bridge that can't be rebuilt as long as both sides are willing to put forth the effort." He takes a french fry and eats it in silence for a few moments, "Besides… what can you really say to hurt me or push me away? Have to get to know me first. I'm willing to take the risk."

Lorna frowned, finishing off her fries and clapping her fingers clean on her jeans. "It mattered. And then they cut me out of their life. It's better that way. I'm better without them. I don't need to rely on them and wait for them to fail me. Or for me to fail them.." She rose, flashing the Doctor a pained smile.

"And I'm not particularly willing to take those risks anymore. I'm already mental and I barely function. I don't think I can handle losing anything anymore." She nodded to him.

"It was nice to meet you, thanks for the food. Good luck finding your friend. I hope you find him."

"Polaris." Doc Samson says softly when she gets up, "Don't let the pains of the past control your future." He looks up at her, "Don't let fear control your life. You're stronger than that. Here." He stands up and fishes into a pocket to pull out a small case of business cards, fishing them out he hands one to her, "If you ever need /anything/. Anything at all. Call me." He smiles, "Don't make me into a creepy stalker." He says playfully.

Lorna considered him, pausing as he too stood up and fished around in his pocket for a business card. She took it, looking somewhat dubiously at it then back toward the green haired man opposite of her. "It's easier for you to track an electromagnetic than trace amounts of gramma-radiation. At least, I think it is. But then again, I'm a bit biased."

"Not really. There's more interference from electromagnetic fields due to all the electric power lines and electronic devices that are in the city. Less pollution on gamma rays." Doc Samson says, "I am sure I could figure it out if I had to, but I am really hoping I don't have to." He considers, "Or we could just make it easy on ourselves, I'll take you out for dinner. I won't bring a big black van, I'll use my personal vehicle, I won't wear a labcoat, and it won't be anything more than a friendly dinner. Deal?"

Lorna blinked up at him, arching a brow and then tucked the card away in her own jean's pocket. She grinned and took a step back, "Mmm, guess I just cheat in sensing all of that." She laughed as he made the offer about a friendly dinner. About showing up without a black van, or a labcoat. And she shook her head slowly.

"Thanks, but I don't do that whole planned dinners thing anymore. Bad shit happens when I try to actually make plans." She held her hands up flat toward him and shrugged. "And that's my past, and my bad luck. But I still have nightmares about mushroom soup. So yeah.."

"Note to self, no mushroom soup. I will remember." Doc Samson says with a smile, "Then I'll see you soon then. Dinner or no." He pulls out his wallet and leaves enough for the bill to be paid twice. Money is apparently not an issue for him. "I am very happy to have met you Polaris. Don't be a stranger." He then offers a wave and sits back down to finish his meal at least.

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