1228/The Acolytes Return

The Acolytes Return
Date of Scene:	18 April 2020
Location:	Hammer Bay
Synopsis:	Exodus sparks some rather heated discussion in the Genoshan royal tent.
Cast of Characters:	Lorna Dane, Fabian Cortez, Paris Bennet

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Lorna Dane has posed:
Inside the tent city, which was slowly becoming more and more built up, as prefab buildings were put up in something more solid than a canvas walls, were the survivors. A few more from Wakanda had arrived earlier, as more necessary parts of life were put back into place. Electricity, water, and sewage were still on and off for some, but more was slowly coming back as workers cleared more of the rubble and rediscovered the parts of Genosha's infrastructure that were below ground.

A massive metal wall had been created to ring around the little area that was recovered, as much for defense as it was to make the inhabitants of the island feel better in general.

And supplies were now being shipped almost daily on the cleared runway not too far away. Though most of the city still had to be cleared away, and mountains of rubble still covered the landscape.. there was even now a path to the water and a small section of beach that had been opened to survivors as well.

Lorna for her part, still stubbornly refused to use the buildings that were created, and holed up in a tent. She was determined to show she cared, and that meant making sure those that lived on Genosha got something resembling a home first and foremost. The tent she took over was the same one Fabian had seen her in before, canvas walls, a drop cloth, and metal furniture. It wasn't glamorous, though a metal vase held a collection of green dyed flowers in it.

Fabian Cortez has posed:
His cane thumping on the packed-dirt 'road' (more like a glorified pathway) between his tent near the refugee city's 'headquarters', a prefab building roughly near the center of the gathered people, Fabian Cortez makes his way towards where his queen's tent is to update her on the current status of things. He was taking his position seriously, as always: he may be slightly culty but he is nothing if not entirely competent.

Under the arm not maneuvering the crutch he has a couple of actual paper manila folders with stacks of actual paper and actual ink. Resources like electricity and the like were too scarce at the moment to waste on bureaucracy, and what the generators provided Fabian has made damn sure was being siphoned towards health and living first and foremost.

He stops outside the Queen's 'door', then rustles the tent slightly. "Your Majesty? I have the reports."

Paris Bennet has posed:
Among the returning and the found, there are many mutants that wander, as if lost, looking for known faces, relatives, neighbors, anyone. Usually they find none. From sixteen million to a few thousands. What are the odds any loved one survived? If someone had a hundred friends, there is a now around a ten percent chance -one- of them is alive.

Among the crowd of wanderers there is a tall one wearing a dark, dusty, hooded cloak. Black clothes underneath, including gloves. He watches in disapproval the behavior of the shell-shocked mutant crowd, but says nothing. This ramshackle village is actually much better of the refugee camps he saw in his youth. The mutants should be grateful, they should be... not happy, but stronger. They should be rebuilding instead of crying.

Very few are doing anything useful. But he is looking for the woman that seems to be doing something useful. But she wasn't in the larger buildings, no. He had to peer into the minds of others to find her. Living in a tent, like a peasant.

Another minor irritation. It is not proper. It is not exemplar. Magneto was a proper king, but his American daughter had strange ideas. America is truly a land of heathens. "And I, on the other hand," he growls from behind Fabian, once the leader of the Acolytes is allowed inside. "I have questions, and rage." He has not spoken in over a month, so his voice sounds rough and strange, even to his ears.

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna looked up from reading another email on her phone, setting it aside as Fabian called from the other side of the canvas. She waved her hand and the magnets she'd sewn on the edges released their holds and peeled back. A little something she added for the illusion of privacy that the tent gave her. She nodded once to Fabian, gesturing to the metal table set sat at. "Bring them in." She offered, clicking 'send' on her phone and glancing up once more as Exodus entered the tent. Surprise flickered to life on her expression, and she blinked a few times as the man entered without so much as a pardon me. She remained seated in her metal chair, leaning back and crossing her arms as she eyed him.

"That's nice, get in line, so do most people. Now is there something I can do for you?" She offered, her voice clipped. She did not like the Acolytes, not in the least. But at least Fabian... well, he was doing something. Exodus... always eluded her. Why he followed her father or anything. He was strange and not a little bizarre. She hadn't even been aware that he was alive.

A glance over him followed, but she didn't bother to inquire as to where he had been.

Fabian Cortez has posed:
Fabian looks amused at the arrival of Exodus-- Sir Paris du Bennet, or was it Bennet du Paris?, or whatever he's going by at the moment. He had been there when the man had been reawakened and sworn his fealty to Lorna's father. To Fabian, he was a grand sword for their king to wield. Friend? Did Fabian even have those anymore? The Spanish nobleman muses for a moment.

"You're alive," he finally says, politely, but in truth not surprised. He doubted there was any force on this planet that could really do more than irritate his fellow Acolyte. "After you, then," he gestures magnanimously. More to allow himself a little more time to shamble in with dignity.

Paris Bennet has posed:
Lorna's rebuttal was not what Exodus expected. At lest she recognized him right away. Still, he won't be dismissed so casually. He pulls the hood back and looks at the pair, folding his arms across his chest. "I was not in Genosha during the attack," he explains. "And there was nothing to return. Or I thought so. Now I see a few... survivors. And I heard one of the king's daughters wanted to rebuild. Is that true?"

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna exhaled a breath, gesturing for the files that Fabian had brought to her and should he hand them over, she would start to flip through them. She seemed dismissive otherwise, her focus truly on the information given to her and the need to know if all was going as planned. A quick glance revealed what she needed, and she turned bright green eyes back to Exodus.

"I was here when Genosha fell, and I went through the massacre. My father is dead most likely, given the remains of the palace and my inability to sense his presence in the magnetic fields." She exhaled a breath, leaning back in the metallic chair she sat on.

"As such I'm doing what I can for Genosha and those that want to live here. I've been working to get money through donations for the rebuild, as well as our international ties and the alike. And I haven't heard anything either about who did what here." She muttered, waving a hand toward Exodus.

"Now, what is it that you want from me?"

Fabian Cortez has posed:
Fabian does hand the folders to Lorna, but for the moment stays out of things.

Mostly.

He does idly boost Lorna's abilities. She may not have asked, but he considers that she may feel like feeling a little more powerful at the moment, in front of one of her father's most powerful Acolytes. He had noticed she had often seemed a bit overwhelmed. He's here to help. For values of help.

Paris Bennet has posed:
"I want a queen," replies Exodus. "Not a diplomat begging for charity. Not a nurse that wants to help everyone," he gestures outside with his head. "Those outside need strong leadership. Your father would have them all working to exhaustion after inspiring them, giving them a purpose to strive to. They need to move on and right now they are still lamenting on what they lost."

He points at Lorna. Rude. "You are behaving as if you were still a princess. A princess can be a sweet diplomat begging for favors. A princess can be a nurse for the injured. But a princess is not the ruler."

Lorna Dane has posed:
Boosting Lorna's powers was problematic for a number of reasons, least of all that he did so when she was unprepared and without her permission. Her anger spiked as Exodus spoke, her and her powers rushed to her side. Usually her control was better than this, and well.. the effects of Fabian's work glimmered brightly. Green lit up her hands, her eyes, and the metal in the tent rattled. She stood, her features twisting sharply. "You dare speak to me that way? You weren't even here! You were off doing who knows what while our people died! You had //one// job. One duty. And that was that you fight for my father. And you didn't even do that!" She snarled.

"How I choose to act is for Genosha's best interest. " She snapped, and the metal in the room warped under her anger with a terrible screech. She exhaled harshly, and struggled to tramp down her powers and return the room to its rightful place. She sat, shooting a look at Fabian accusingly.

Fabian Cortez has posed:
Fabian shrugs apologetically, withdrawing his boost from his liege. He gestures lightly with a hand. "Your majesty, if I may... either of us would have gladly fought and died beside your father. Several Acolytes did. It so happens that both of us were sent away-- Paris here to Russia, and I on the other side of Hammer Bay-- by your father's command. We were serving him, to the letter and spirit of his requests, as any loyal to him //would have//." There is a bit of firmness in his tone... not quite as if he is speaking to a child, but the hint of lecture is there. "It is providence we survived, not malice, and certainly not a dereliction of duty. I do not believe my good friend Exodus here is capable of such a dereliction in the first place. If he is guilty of anything, it is of being too rough with your majesty in his words, however true that they may be."

He sighs, leaning on the Wakandan-made over glorified stick that he has assisting him in standing. "You are a Queen, and while you may not always feel like it, or perhaps worry you would be taking from those who pledged to serve you: there are expectations of royalty that have always held. Living in a tent hovel when there is a way that you might be in more permanent housing is beneath that expectation."

He glances to Paris. "But, my friend, I do say her political and social maneuverings are not for nothing. Much of the materiel I have been arranging the use and dispensation of has come directly from her diplomatic efforts. Her father was strictly a warrior, and one I believe wholeheartedly in. She is not her father. I do not think she is incapable simply because she is handling things differently."

See? Diplomacy. You're both wrong. And you're both right.

Paris Bennet has posed:
Exodus steps back to the accusation, but then frowns. "I was doing an errand in a place in Asia called... Irkutsk," he recalls the name with some difficulty. The name had been irrelevant. Russia, says Fabian. Maybe it was Russia. Fact is that as one of Genosha's most powerful teleporters, he often was sent to pick up groups of mutants from distant places. Particularly if conflict with the local humans was expected.

A high body count makes a stronger point, right?

The rest of Fabian's words are pretty much ignored. Friends? It has been a while since Paris had one. And that Lorna is not like her father, well, that is the problem! "It is not 'handling things' differently. A king or a queen need to be decisive and commanding. Otherwise they will not get respect from their subjects, much less from other rulers. Friendship, perhaps, or pity, but no respect."

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna sat back down, firmly holding her powers in check as the boost rode through her systems and she exhaled once again through her nose in a measured way. "Fine, Cortez. Fine." She bit out, waving her hand in his direction. The metal straightened itself out with her motion, and the tent was once again as it was meant to be.

"I stay in a tent here to show our people that I am every bit as willing to go through what they suffered. Despite my having been abroad a great deal of time otherwise. They deserve the comforts of what Genosha has, little though they are, first and foremost. I rarely remain here as it stands." She pursed her lips, irritation plainly written on her features.

"I don't really think your outlook on global politics is up to date, Exodus. My father was feared and hated by the international community, and Genosha suffered for it. I will not leave my people to do so when I can do better. Latveria and Wakanda have both worked with me, and have shown respect to me. More than you have, I might add."

Fabian Cortez has posed:
"Many things Paris believes to be true are a bit out of date," Fabian snarks quietly, amusement playing at his lips. He bows his head at Lorna slightly, and steps back a bit to let Exodus have his say, which Fabian is quite sure he will.

Paris Bennet has posed:
Exodus snorts, shaking his head. He knows nothing of Wakanda. But even he has heard of Dr. Doom. "You might be confusing the honeyed words of politicians with sincere courtesy. But perhaps Wakanda is ruled by saints, friends of mutants." No, he doesn't believe that for a second.

"I speak the truth," he states. "I am a knight, and I never lie," that is pretty much true. And part of the problem! "Magneto drew the hatred of most because most humans hate mutants. That has not changed, and forgetting it would be a fatal mistake."

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna rolled her shoulders back, glowering at Exodus with a severe look. She sat silently for a long moment, flickering a glance at Fabian briefly as the man commented rather snarkily, before her gaze returned to the Knight. She tilted her head back to him. "T'Challa has spent a great deal of funding to see our injured healed, he has personally worked with my siblings for years. He is a good man. I don't fear from Wakanda any sort of backstabbing as a result." She arched a brow, "Or are you saying my older siblings are foolish?" She let her hands fall back to the table, her green manicured nails tapping against the metal.

"Because frankly, sir. I don't think you are worth your salt right now. You speak of respect, and you grant me none. You criticize without having action to your name beyond past deeds. While you may certainly be correct that the world hates mutants, you have yet to propose a reasonable way of moving forward. We have a few thousand mutants alive. From the //millions// we had. The time for bravado has passed. We are a nation of the dead and wounded."

Fabian Cortez has posed:
Fabian grits his teeth a bit. "You're a knight, and she is your queen," he reminds Paris with a grimace. "We must rebuild the foundation before we may rise. It is the path put before us, Exodus."

Paris Bennet has posed:
"Your siblings are not here," points out Exodus, again gesturing outside. "They did not want to follow your father's steps. And I would call them fools for that alone, regardless of whatever other virtues they might have."

He puts aside the issue of Wakanda for now. As he has to admit to himself he would be talking from the ignorance. Perhaps later he will ask about this T'Challa, who must be the ruler.

Fabian words are listened to this time. And he considers the response for a few seconds. "She is not my queen. Not until I bend my knee and take my vow. She has not been crowned yet, so that is not an issue yet." Procedures! But the rite and tradition is very important for Paris, because they make the promises made feel real. "Yet I would..." he adds, "yes, I would help the rebuilding, as it is what Magneto would have wanted from me."

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna pursed her lips together as she shifted in her seat. "No they are not, and my father named no one else heir. He is dead. Coronation or not, I am Queen. And that comes from traditions far older than me, and should be something you're familiar with. We have no crown in Genosha to pass on. We have no cathedrals to have some ceremony in. So a coronation, such as you think of, will not happen until my people are housed, and clothed, and fed. If you wish to help with the rebuilding then I encourage you to do so." She waved a hand dismissively.

"But you will not disrespect me in front of others beyond this tent if you wish to remain here on Genosha." She turned back to the files on her table. "Now is there anything else you wish to discuss or are you quite finished?"

Fabian Cortez has posed:
"I actually did have a few details I wished to discuss with you, your majesty-- strictly, of course, the mundane sorts of things that are likely incredibly relevant to that rebuilding effort." Fabian smiles tightly. "And, Paris, if you are willing to assist... there is a building just past the southeastern quad of the encampment that has been giving us some issues on clearing. It is quite unstable, and it has been giving those of us not as singularly gifted as yourself no end of grief. We don't wish the remnants to collapse while we have people working in and around it... but... we may have little choice. You may have more luck than the foreman I have assigned to clearing it. At least keeping it from collapsing on those trying to remove it." He shrugs. "It's not a glorious battle, but it is //my// top priority. Once that building's rubble is removed, we'll be able to expand the camp's power grid, make it more stable." He looks to Lorna. "Get all the prefabricated buildings fully powered, not just intermittently."

He pauses. "Also, I've taken the liberty of reassigning a few of our surviving bakers, cooks, and other restaurateurs towards making a better go of the rations hall. We'll be renaming it to something more palatable." He chuckles. "Right now, they are calling it a 'tavern'. I don't think you've been inside since they've been given a free hand, your majesty... your people are quite imaginative. It feels less like a prefab inside and more like... well, something closer to home. There's a few entrepreneur types that have been spelunking the ruins on their off hours and finding bits of surviving carpet, furniture... more comfortable piece of home. It may seem ghoulish, but I didn't wish to dissuade them when the end result seems to improve morale."

Paris Bennet has posed:
"Crown yourself like strong monarchs do, like your father did," suggests Paris. "The symbolism is real. It is important for your subjects. You don't need bishop or temple, but it should be public. It is part of the rebuilding. And if you don't believe me, ask those kings you consider friends."

He sighs. "Nothing else, so," he glances at Fabian. "I'll see those ruins removed. I am no strange to hard labor." Was that a barb to Fabian? Exodus is not know for being subtle, but he is not stupid either. "Farewell," he adds, leaving the tent.