15215/Temp Title Jun23

Temp Title Jun23
Date of Scene:	24 June 2023
Location:	Ororo's Attic
Synopsis:	Ending old scene from previous player.
Cast of Characters:	Lorna Dane, Ororo Munroe

---

Lorna Dane has posed:
     It's been a few days since Lorna started telling friends that she's expecting, she hasn't quite worked up the courage to tell her 'family' but that might be because she doesn't exactly feel close to them. At least at the moment she's been feeling awfully isolated in life. But there's a few people in her 'chosen family' that she feels she can truly rely on when she knocks on their doors.

    One such person is the door she's standing in front of now. Pausing. Hesitating to reach up and breach the silence she knows the woman enjoys. The solitude that can be so alien in this mansion, but Lorna bites her lower lip in contemplation and to work up her courage.

    A deep breath reminds her that she's still growing into the woman she needs to be. For herself, her baby, and for her country. That draws a sigh and she starts to lift a hand to knock, but as always, Ororo's perfect timing has the door opening before Lorna can actually knock and she's standing there a hand in the air awkwardly. "Um. Hi?"

Ororo Munroe has posed:
"Hi." Ororo flashes an unapologetic grin at Lorna. Ororo /always/ seems to know if someone's at the door. Or on their way. There's even a kettle on, and it looks like she's rearranged her little conversation pit so Lorna can partially recline and take the weight off her lower back.

"You have perfect timing. I have scones in the oven and they will be ready soon," she promises. Her hair is done up in hundreds of beaded cornrows, with the front rows pulled backwards around her temples to act as a corral for the rest of her wealth of white hair. Beads of blue and silver add flashes of color as she moves.

"Please, get comfy. How are you feeling today?" While she speaks she moves to her little kitchette to finish preparing a small tea service. It's hard to tell if she's dressed up or dressed down, wearing a sleeveless white maxi dress that hangs to her lower calf. Little geometric trapezoids break it up and add some color, and the way it drapes on Ororo prevents it from looking too stern.

Lorna Dane has posed:
     Lorna is certainly dressed down, wearing an old black band t-shirt over her swollen belly and chest, obviously a borrowed shirt as Lorna never seemed the type to enjoy listening to 'The Butthole Surfers' but here she is advertising for them. She looks down at herself after looking down at Ororo and feeling like she's lack luster. "I'm as comfy as I can be." She says, the tight worn jeans left unbuttoned at top to allow her swell to not be restrained. "I'm at least past the morning sickness, for the most part." Lorna says with a smile and she steps up without asking to wrap her arms around Ororo.

    The hug is something Lorna needed as she would hug Ororo from behind or awkwardly at the side. She just needed that kindness she knows Ororo would give if asked. "I was feeling good about myself but seeing you always makes me jealous." Lorna says with a smirk and a hand through her mess of British racing green hair.

     With an involuntary grunt, Lorna sits at the conversation pit and while she's not huge by any stretch, she's really just now starting to show, she's seemingly out of breath and a sheen of sweat is on her forehead. "Tea sounds wonderful. How are you always so ... prepared and unsurprised?" Lorna asks casually as she coos softly to herself, but loud enough to be heard.

Ororo Munroe has posed:
Ororo returns the hug firmly, along with a warm affirmation. "Jealous? You're carrying life itself, Lorna," she reminds the woman. Ororo helps her get settled and goes back to gathering up the tea service. "There is nothing in this world more beautiful than motherhood."

She says it with such simple determination that it sounds rather profound, like some deep-rooted axiom of universal truth. "I have a black tea which is lower in caffeine, and should be safe for you," she explains. The service is carried over to the little table and Ororo kneels down smoothly to start dishing out the scones and decant the kettle into a little, well-loved old teapot. Like most of Ororo's things, it is weathered with honest use and good care. "You should probably avoid herbal teas," she suggests a moment later. "Some of them have unpredictable amounts of caffeine or other substances. It might make you feel sick." She lifts a shoulder at Lorna in an apologetic little shrug, as if the inconvenience is something she should apologize for.

Lorna Dane has posed:
     Lorna has sat, and in the washed tight jeans, and embarrassing t-shirt she feels is stretched onto her, she feels like she's quite done with moving today, if she can avoid it. Ororo doing all this and being so loving and caring and uplifting and so damn positive, is making Lorna feel like she's ungrateful or undeserving of the kindness of one of her favorite friends. "You sound like you've been reading more maternity books and blogs and websites than I have." Lorna says as she leans forward to try and at least help take some burden off Ororo, but she knows that would never come to pass. Not the way Ororo is kindly.

    "I hope you know I'm going to feed you the same lines and do my best to care for you like this when you are pregnant." Lorna notes with a smile and her tongue sticking out before she leans back and spreads her arms wide to relax against the back of the cushion she's leaning against.

    The near apologetic shrug from Storm causes Lorna to fret, her eyebrows furrowing softly, "What're you being all sorry for, c'mon, don't make me stand up again. You'll certainly regret it if I do."

Ororo Munroe has posed:
"Goodness, Lorna, I'm being sympathetic," Ororo explains, and dismisses the concern with a roll of her wrist. "I've been a doula many times over. Among the tribal people the custom is for only women to deliver the babies. They don't trust doctors, particularly foreigners. I've been helping expecting mothers since I was six."

Just to reinforce it, Ororo puts a hand out and gently but irrevocably pins Lorna's shoulder to the cushions. Lorna's not gonna stand up unless she's willing to arm wrestle 'Ro, and the weather shaper is a lot stronger than most people think she is.

"I mean, I assume you're here for some prenatal care." She glances over at Lorna and ensures all the goodies, snacks and accoutrements are in easy reach. "If not, we can just sit and chat about anything you like." She decants her own cup of tea and takes a long, slow sip, disregarding the heat filling the cup.

Lorna Dane has posed:
    "I know you're being sympathetic, I just." Lorna takes a deep breath and then sighs softly, "I'm sorry Ororo, I'm just, snarky lately. You know I love you, and I know you're the best person to talk to. Flat out. I don't trust anyone like I trust you." Lorna says, before coming out and saying it. "Pre-natal, psychological, stately. I just feel so..." Lorna pauses, not for dramatic effect, but to actually find the word she wants to use with Ororo.

    "I feel like I'm simply a place holder. A stop gap. Borderline unimportant, like a victim of circumstance and fate." Lorna says with a deep, soul revealing frown. She doesn't reach for a cup, or anything, but her eyes are almost hollow. Terrified in that eldritch and ancient way of feeling lost in being and purpose. And she's now here in the room of the one woman she expects and hopes could really help.

Ororo Munroe has posed:
Ororo listens attentively to Lorna. There's no judgement or impulsiveness in her attitude; it's something quiet and cool in her presence. Like the shade of a tree by a slow, still pond. The lamplight dances around the room and makes the art and plants seem alive, rustling with healthy vitality. Even the tick of an old mechanical clock serves to add to the sense of being somewhere profoundly warm and secure against the world.

When Lorna's eyes drop, Ororo purses her lips. Wordlessly, she takes Lorna's hand in both of hers and gives it a gentle squeeze. That palm is placed on Lorna's swelling stomach and Ororo stares into her face as her eyes begin to glaze into empty whiteness.

The baby kicks and abruptly Lorna can /perceive/ the child inside her. Not just as a weight or a necessary burden, but the very spark of life gestating in her womb. Lorna can almost sense the fire from the candles, too, the rolling winds against the walls, the creak of floorboards, the world all around her. Perceiving exactly where she is and how she fits into the world around her.

Then Ororo lifts her hand and the connection fades. Doesn't disappear-- just slips away like waking from a comfortable dream. "You are the most important person in the universe, Lorna," Ororo says with a quiet but firm tone. "And you have the most important job in the universe." She nods at Lorna's baby bump. "For your child, there is nothing else you need do except love and protect them. What could be more important than that?" she wonders, and her tone declares it a frankly rhetorical statement.

Lorna Dane has posed:
     Lorna lifts a hand to brush the heel of her palm against her face and wipes a tear away from her cheek but she uses her other hand to hold onto Ororo's hand against her belly, and even if the feeling and power in the moment fades, she isn't ready for her friend and confidant to pull away. She needs another few moments of closeness to another person.

     Lorna swallows hard at the nothing caught in her throat, keeping her words unspoken for a few moments, and allowing her tears to fall as they will. A smile breaks through her wall of emotions and the green queen lingers in silence a moment longer, "I know you're right 'Ro." She doesn't speak the 'but' part, keeping that to herself for now in this moment of vulnerability.

Ororo Munroe has posed:
"Yes, I know," Ororo agrees, with the serenity of absolute authority. The expression on her face is regal to the point of divine authority. Then a little grin teases at the corner of her mouth and the mask breaks away entirely.

She claps her hands softly against her thighs. "If all you know is that you love your baby, then you know you are on the right track. Anything beyond that is details," she reassures Lorna. "Rulership, marriage-- important things, things your friends can help you with, but this should be a bedrock for you to build from."

At that she scoots back a bit so she's not in Lorna's personal space anymore and rocks onto her hip, bare feet kicking out to the side and leaning on a propped arm for support.

"That said, I suspect things other than motherhood are bothering you," she observes, and gives Lorna a direct look that practically screams 'don't beat around the bush'.

Lorna Dane has posed:
    "I mean, yeah, motherhood is scary, and all, but that's the problem I can find others to help me solve." Lorna says with a resolve that says that she's thought about this a lot and yet, she's not able to think herself out of this problem. She's missing something. Some advice, perspective, maybe even a flaw in herself?

    "I'm certain that this baby will be a better leader than I ever could be. I mean, they hopefully can learn from my mistakes. I don't have any example to look to. Not saying my father was a good example in any measure." Lorna then reaches forwards to put a hand on the kettle and lifts it up, pouring herself a small cup of tea, and then plucking up a scone.

     Smelling the scone softly before nibbling it and pausing. "Holy crap. 'Ro, this is amazing." Lorna says around a bite before devouring the remains. "You constantly surprise me and I don't know why I'm just not in awe of you constantly." Lorna compliments and then leans back down pulling her tea cup with her to rest on her chest before she's ready for a drink. "Okay, no beating around the bush, what should I be doing to make Genosha a better country?"

Ororo Munroe has posed:
Ororo smiles at the praise. She's not a talented cook, but there are a few recipes she has pretty well dialed in. Plus, the old wood-fired oven (which is a serious safety hazard, really) gives the baked goods a faint aroma of earth and smoke that makes them all the more authentic.

"Your father is a good leader, in some regards," Ororo suggests, dancing around the question Lorna puts to her. "He is shrewd and insightful. I'd describe him as passionate. When he speaks, people listen to him because of the conviction he has. That it is right, and proper, for him to lead them." Fingers flex in the air and limp again, in a 'take that for what you will' gesture.

"I don't know if there's any one thing that would make Genosha better, over any other thing. What have you been considering doing?"

Lorna Dane has posed:
     Lorna looks at Ororo and then her face is flat and almost annoyed. "He may be a good leader, but I never saw it, and he sure as shit, pardon my french, wasn't a good father." She says with a sternness to her tone that that topic is finished and not one worth exploring.

    "The idea of moving the island has crossed my mind." Lorna says, her eyes and voice totally serious as she looks to Ororo to gauge her reaction to such a wild idea.

Ororo Munroe has posed:
Lorna's ire washes up against Ororo's implacable calmness and breaks against it. Ororo doesn't voice any furthur opinion about Magneto-- but she doesn't offer any criticism of Lorna, either.

"Moving the island is... no small feat," Ororo says. She shifts in place and brings her little plate closer so she can nibble on one of the scones without getting crumbs on the floor beneath her. "Setting aside the logistics of doing so, though-- where would you move it to?" she inquires. "And, to what end? Some... friendly country, who is willing to umbrella Genosha from other nations? Or so far out to sea that no other nation comes near it?"

Lorna Dane has posed:
     Lorna lifts the cup of tea from her chest and takes a small sip, eyes fluttering briefly. "Incredible." She mouths softly to herself and takes another sip. "My initial thought is to bring it to the US in a show of force and in a bid to become a territory. Even at the expense of my own monarchy." The queen says, concern about her people more than evident even if her idea is flawed thought it may be.

    "I know it's a lofty goal, but it is one of the few ideas I have. We mutants are strong. We need a strong place to be and to show the world that we deserve not only our freedom, but also respect." Lorna says, frowning down to her own belly, softly risen from her previously trim form. "I ... Am I crazy?" She asks, looking to Ororo's eyes and feeling like she might be teetering on some brink of insanity.

Ororo Munroe has posed:
Ororo shrugs again, rolling one shoulder in a subtle little gesture that's neither agreement nor dissent. "That is an... ambitious idea," she concedes, after thinking it over. She straightens her back out and sips her own tea, carefully, and sets it aside again.

"But, I do not think it is wholly unreasonable," she adds, rolling the syllables around with her warm, careful diction. "Mutants have been terribly put upon for decades. In no small part, by the government here." She gestures vaguely in a way that paints Washington, DC as the problem. "The mere act of moving Genosha, would be as strong a show of force as any military display. Do you see the people of the United States taking it as a gesture of strength, or as a show of aggression?" She lifts a brow at Lorna, pointedly. "Even well-communicated good intentions can cause much angst, if taken the wrong way."

Lorna Dane has posed:
    "I would like to have a meeting with President Luthor, but I feel like I'd be ignored rather soundly." Lorna says, frowning briefly before looking back to Ororo, "But yeah, the mutants who want their freedom are trying to get away from bigots and assholes and me bringing the island close to the US would mean those that got away would be upset at me, and that's a trouble I can handle, but you have a point. I see people here thinking of moving the island as an act of war even." Lorna takes another breath and adjusts herself so she can tuck her feet under her bottom bent at the knee. She then finishes her first cup of tea and smiles back towards Ororo. "Do you have any ideas that I could copy or am I so out of touch?"

Ororo Munroe has posed:
Ororo laughs gently, shaking her head. The beads woven in her hair click together like a waterfall of glass. "Lorna, I am not a secular ruler," she reminds her friend. She lifts the kettle, pausing to look at Lorna for assent, before she refills Lorna's cup. It's a small thing, but done with the care that Ororo always exudes. A big believe in the big things being made up of how one does small things. Even pouring tea.

"I am a voice for and of my people. I reconcile tribal disagreements, I visit villages in drought or famine. I tend to the sick and injured, and encourage the old and wise to raise the next generation."

"I would say, you are a better governor than I could ever be. I know I can always fall back on my authority as the voice of The Mother. You have no such recourse, and in the end, it makes you all the more fitting," she observes.

"Forgive me, but is it possible that this idea of moving Genosha is... galloping in all directions?" she says, very careful not to make it sound accusatory or patronizing. "I mean, the desire to do *something*, anything, in the face of stress."

Lorna Dane has posed:
    "So you're saying my desire to want to do something useful, meaningful is getting of the way of being useful and meaningful?" Lorna asks, holding her cup up and accepting the newest pour from Ororo. "You're so kind to me." Lorna says a sorrow in her eyes. "I know I haven't always been a great friend, while you have. I am sorry for that Ororo."

     Lorna starts to try and push herself up off of her bottom and grunts at the effort. Again involuntarily. "Please, do tell me what you think would be a good idea? Anything. I need ideas. I need advice." Lorna asks, almost begs even as she stands.

Ororo Munroe has posed:
There's a /little/ flicker in Ororo's eyes. Just a hint of thinning lips. "Lorna, the first thing I think you should do is stop apologizing for yourself," she says, and there is a crispness to the words that Ororo usually avoids.

She looks at Lorna, then sighs, eyes lidding. "I'm sorry, I did not mean to snap," she apologizes. "Lorna, I am torn. Part of me wants to give you instruction. But the other part of me, the larger part, is looking at the bigger picture. Genosha desperately needs leadership. A vision. A queen, or president, or tyrant. /Someone/ who is thinking objectively about Genosha's best interests, both the nation and her people."

Her palms turn up and rise to mid-chest, a supplicative gesture. "If I start telling you how to run your country, if the X-men start telling you what to do and how and when to do it-- you'll never develop into the leader I know you can become." Her tone is gentle and earnest, overflowing with encouragement. It's hard to look into 'Ro's blue eyes and see anything that overwhelming, unconditional support.

"Now, like it or not, that is you. You have to /become/ the Queen. In your heart, and in your head. You are not a placeholder or a temp or a passing voice. You are not Magneto's daughter. You are Lorna Dane," she says, and her voice rings with the name. "And you are the leader of your people."

Lorna Dane has posed:
    Lorna visibly flinches, and recoils back into a seated position as she feels Ororo slapped her upside the head and shoved a vial of self positivity down Lorna's throat. "You're not wrong. And this is exactly why I come to you. I expect you to be so honest with me." Lorna says with a sigh. She's defeated but humbled by it as well.

    "Yes, it's a dumb idea, it's a dangerous idea, and it's an idea that will upset some people. But it will be for the good of all." Lorna says with a sharp controlled nod, her hair swishing a bit wildly.

    "I am still scared and I still want you to advise me. You know that right?" Lorna asks as she takes another sip of her tea, happy in this moment of self reassurance and kindness she needed and sought out from a dear friend.