18019/Have Faith That Things Will Correct Themselves

Have Faith That Things Will Correct Themselves
Date of Scene:	21 May 2024
Location:	X-Men Base (Sub-Basement)
Synopsis:	Lorna and Bishop trade intel about ongoing situations involving the Mutant Liberation Front and Purifiers while sharing frustrations and reassurances.
Cast of Characters:	Lorna Dane, Bishop

---

Lorna Dane has posed:
"-- what the fuck--"

        ACCESS DENIED
        ACCESS DENIED
        ACCESS DENIED

Lorna jerks her badge back, squinting at it; drawing it up until it's just inches from her eyes. Nothing's changed on her end--...

After pocketing the badge, Lorna takes a beat to pinch the bridge of her nose, shut her eyes, and sighs. Why are these protocol rotations always so damn buggy--

"-- hey," she says into the badge maybe ten seconds later, having fished it back out. "It's Lorna; I wanted to talk about your report, and I was GOING to check the internal dee bee for a few extra details, but..."

~*~*~

"... the man is my father," Lorna Dane murmurs, arms folded and eyes narrowed as she paces away from her benefactor, towards the Danger Room, "and the last thing I could ever imagine wanting to call him is 'Daddy'-- what the fuck is WRONG with Husk--?" A frustrated huff is followed by a quick glance back towards Bishop. "What is happening around here, Bishop? I leave a report about there being a goddamned Sentinel deployment, and it's crickets," comes with snappy, agitated gestures. "The codes are fucked up; we have alumni running around hooking up with-- I don't know, knife perverts--? Who the fuck even IS Stryfe?? I--"

Another, heavier sigh as Polaris takes a few beats to bury her face in her hands, rubbing fiercely.

"Thank you for meeting me here," she finally thinks to say, quietly.

Bishop has posed:
"I have to admit. The choice of 'Social Justice Daddy' caused me to raise my eyebrows but I obviously had other things to prioritize before going down that rabbit hole. If I needed any more reason to just drop the issue, her suggesting we call the MLF, 'Milf', or something to that effect pretty much took care of that."

Bishop's own access to the lower levels is, of course, unimpeded and he leads the way down into the main hallway and towards the security center without batting an eye

"This happened shortly after I put my report in about Paige. It may simply be that you haven't checked in, awhile or maybe Gambit's not quite as dexterous when using a computer console as he is with playing cards and accidentally locked you and some others out while resetting Paige's status.."

The large man then shakes his head, his mass of heavy braids swinging back and forth as he finally turns to look directly at the Genoshan queen, "And it's not a problem. Always willing to help. To be honest, I'm not sure why there wasn't a more immediate response to the report about the Sentinel but it could be that the attack on District X by the swarm of smaller Sentinel-Like robots occupied everyones minds and the two incidents were conflated. I was on another assingment when all that went down and so wasn't here to grab people by the ear and drag some priority into them. In my opinion, the balance between maintaining the school and actually attending to duties as the X-Men are pulling people in too many different directions."

There's a pause and he shakes his head again and looks back to the door to prepare to enter the access code to the room. "...If The Professor was here ...it'd probably be a little more ....organized but...he's not so we're just tyring to make due. Trust me when I say there are others involved that aren't waiting for everyone here to take action on some of these matters..."

Lorna Dane has posed:
"You'd think they'd at least give more of a shit about an army squatting in our symbol of community and togetherness," Lorna bitterly says of the Starport, "even if the one Sentinel apparently doesn't get the same amount of attention as the swarm." Her eyes shift to watch Bishop key in new codes; she shifts from foot to foot as her arms tighten across her tee-clad chest.

"But at least they're on top of student event planning."

A beat.

"... I still get the newsletters in my Stateside PO box," she mutters with a quick, dismissive gesture.

"Don't you feel alone here?" she wonders a moment later, flicking her eyes up to Bishop himself as she leans near the doorframe. "Lately?" follows, softer. "You-- I don't even--... ... it isn't like they're IGNORANT. Incompetent-- they know what they're doing," she tries to explain, grazing her teeth against her lower lip. "I learned so much of what I know next to some of them, but lately, it just... it feels like they've given up on trying. Like they're getting comfortable..."

Less of a sigh and more of a long-winded release follows, as Lorna lets her eyes lid and her chin dip.

"... which reminds me that I have an AAR to. I guess. Fuckin', dictate to you, now, because I'm pretty sure someone's moving SERIOUS firepower to the Purifiers, lately--" Another deep breath in--

"... it just-- it must be strange," she finally murmurs, "to have come from where you did-- been met by who you were-- and now, seeing them get complacent. Slipping..."

Bishop has posed:
That..may have struck a chord. Not a nerve, no. He takes no insult and does not grow agitated....but he does pause. Fingers hover just over the last key input of the access code and he seems to freeze for a moment as if his mind has drifted to come other place and time all together.

It doesn't last long but...it lasts long enough to be noticable, especially as he doesnt' look at her and instead just stares at the door for seconds that stretch on for a longer then they have any right to.

Then he pushes the final key stroke and the door slides open to the security room.

"I'm not alone." he affirms, first. "There are those here who are more proactive then the others and...others who aren't here who remain active and invested in the priority matters. Like you."

He finally turns to look at Lorna, expression serious but not hardened or dour.

"In my time, you all were the stuff of legends. What you represented, what you did, it inspired hope and gave us a standard to strive for. The very rebellion that saved mutants and humans alike was not called The Summer's Rebellion for no reason. But now that I"ve been here I'm reminded of one inescapable truth..."

He pauses and then finally allows a mild smile on that dour serious face, "...You're all only human.."

He turns and then steps forward, starting into the room. "I have to have faith that the ones that inspired those legends, led those rebellions and served as the example for the X.S.E. are here, now. Times of faltering and losing their way doesn't mean that the future I grew up in wasn't valid. It just means that sometimes a wake up call is needed and a back to basics approach encouraged."

Upon entering the room, lights flickering on at his arrival, he takes a seat at a terminal, "..And I'm all ears."

Lorna Dane has posed:
"Being human isn't an excuse not to try," Lorna murmurs back, doing her best to mirror the smile and not quite making it. "I-- I know they're trying their best. That everyone means well; that we all want, broadly, the same things..."

Following Bishop inside, she hardly bothers with looking around, having long since grown used to the arrangement of things-- not to mention the agitation that keeps her steps brisk and her hair endlessly aflutter amidst subtle magnetic distortions.

"My perspective isn't what it used to be," she eventually adds. "Ever since life began returning to Genosha-- ever since I promised that every mutant on Earth could count on Genosha to be their safe haven in their time of need, it's-- I can't handle thinking small, and patient anymore." As Bishop sits at the terminal, she keeps walking until she can climb onto a corner of the desk, crossing one denimed leg over the other; in short order, it begins bouncing, quickly.

"So I really, really hope that this is a temporary break, and they find the pieces of themselves we both know are in there," she softly adds to tie the thought off. Sweeping her hands through her hair, she takes a beat to collect her thoughts--

"-- okay. It started in Brooklyn..."

At the Twisted Helix, a local meta-friendly bookstore, during a book signing/reading event featuring the latest work from metahuman theorist Donnell Youthers. Just a few minutes into the event, explosions ripped through the rear of the store, and the police providing security in front of the store were killed, allowing two groups of armored operatives to invade. They were identically armored and armed, but their guns were strange: they could fire seemingly anything, to counteract the abilities of whatever metahumans they came across. They nearly suffocated the Blob with self-replicating goo; Exodus was hit with some kind of psychic virus; nobody even knows what happened to the mercenary Domino, just that she suddenly went down as everything went bad around her; two of them were firing drill-tipped bullets to try and shatter Emma Frost's diamond form; others somehow had guns shooting beams of light at a man made out of shadows.

It was ugly.

And while the casualties were mitigated by the aforementioned plus Negasonic, the end results were gruesome, and the shop is in ruins. Emma had custody of one of them. Another was left debilitated on the scene. Almost all of the rest escaped, despite some of them suffering major injuries that should have crippled them; some of them seemed to move in noticeably stiffer, jerkier ways after taking especially bad hits.

They moved and fought like they'd been training together for years. The only words they ever said were 'Purity justifies our Hate', always in unison.

"... and the fuckers had the densest signal filtering-- NOTHING but psychic activity could get through, and that was a stretch," Lorna continues, jaw clenched and eyes simmering. "I tried over half a dozen teleport vectors; every single one was shut right out." Climbing to her feet, she paces behind Bishop to lean over his shoulder and squint at the screen for a few seconds.

"... the one that shot Exodus-- his gun disappeared for a second when he did it. Everyone I've spoken to who was there, who saw it-- they swear it just. Wasn't there, all of a sudden. The rest of them, their guns kept changing..." she notes before pacing back to her corner of the desk and sitting back down.

"We were a stroke of luck away from a fucking massacre, Bishop, and I don't even know where to start figuring out why."

Bishop has posed:
The large man listens as he accesses the computer systems and begins to pull up the security files and access codes. His eyes survey the roster and the status of listed affiliates and members with a practiced eye and a sense of familairity. There's no telling how often he's done this in his own time..let alone the present.

When Lorna finishes, he first returns back to his earlier statement, "To clarify, I didn't mean that to say that they aren't supposed to try. I meant it to say that I had to accept that these are flawed people. We all are...and that in their flaws they're going to make choices and do things that aren't the ideal. When that happens we can't simply let the ship come to a stop nor can we not hold them accountable. I'm sayign hat I'm saying because the future I come from supposes a past where the good the X-Men did left enough of a mark that they were remembered as heroes and as mar--"

Bishop pauses there, frowning at himself now and suddenly clamping shut less a word he doesn't want to utter escape him.

"....All I'm saying is to have faith that things will correct themselves and to make sure we do our part. That includes holding our friends and associates accountable when they drop the ball, believe me."

He had his say there - but - he also had marked on the rest of Lorna's words as well. His other hand had already activated a second terminal and had begun calling up information about the attack. Media reports. Social media comments. Police and medical reports and more. Multi-tasking and seeing the information fly across the screen including images of the chaos and the aftermath . The violence and horror of the event flashes across his face as video images play and flicker on the monitors and Bishop narrows his eyes as he concentrates, thinking.

"Adaptive technology is at the very core of Sentinel tech. Their ability to change tactics and generate weaponry upon anaylsis of mutant and meta power use is what makes them so dangerous but...nothing this small or mass produced has ever been seen before to my knowledge. Stands to reason that even your magnetism wouldn't impact it. There's not many with the technology to even begin to create something like this, let alone...mass produce it to hand off to thugs."

He turns to open up another database, "Obviously if we could get our hands on some of the equpiment, even a piece of it, it'd be a lot easier but we'd have to start by tracking the activities of the big-tech weapon developers and contractors...and that doesn't preclude organizations like AIM or Hydra...."

Lorna Dane has posed:
"You can see if Emma's willing to share," Lorna notes, nodding after Bishop explains the equipment conundrum, "and I'll see if I can turn anything up on my end. I thought maybe Adaptoid tech, but there were people in those things-- AIM's never been able to make a biomechanical one right? Not to mention adapting it into weapons, and armor, and..." Her head shakes and she waves the thought away.

"Why don't we have an intelligence division--..." she mutters half to herself, knuckling at her temple momentarily.

"Okay..." follows more audibly, after a puff of air. "Pin for now." Tipping her chin towards the terminal, she asks, "Back to Paige-- what do we know about this MLF? Do we have anything to go on for-- I don't know, IDing them? Tracking them down?" Regardless of its content, Lorna studies the screen for a couple seconds, quiet and intent--

"Do you think she's going to go to them at some point?"

Bishop has posed:
"Then it looks like I'm going to need to talk to Emma. If she's got something we can look into then it stands to reason that should be our first step to avoid guessing too much. We've seen far too much in our time to go down that mind trap. It's exactly as you said.. the tech you've described seems beyond Adaptoid technology. The more advanced things become the smaller they become and the more easily reproduced. It's almost as if....this might take a particularly unique mind to pull it all together, maybe even hodge podge it from various technologies. Multiple sources serving as the basis but...until we have something concrete to go off of it's all guess work.."

Bishop actually pauses to rub the bridge of his nose. Perhaps even he's feeling overworked and stressed and the slightest signs of it have peeked through.

Or perhaps it was just the mention of Paige's situation. He grunts abit., "I still need to get to the NYPD District X office to deal with the mutant in their custody but I'll see about reaching out to Emma as well....but yes as far Paige goes.."

After a pause he then says, "It's funny you mentiont he need for an intelligence division. I think the issue at hand is that a group like the X-Men don't necessarily want to be perceived as a paramilitary outfit..despite all of ..." He does a vague gesture to indicate the high tech base, "This.."

He pauses and then says, "So...others exist to do what they can't. X-Force has had some success in that. Cable received a tip that a concert being put on by a famous anti-mutant recording artist was to be targeted so several of us infilitrated to keep watch. When they arrived they called themselves the Mutant Liberation Front, led by a man in white armor. THey attempted to capture and kill the band members and members of the audience and were able to port in and out. Their members were organized and honed. Trained mutants with the use of their powers."

He pauses and then says, simply, "Stryfe's rhetoric...would probably sound familiar to you, if a bit 'classic' ...if you get my meaning..."

Lorna Dane has posed:
"Short-sighted, self-destructive, and dangerously tempting," Lorna supplies.

"Like my father's."

She catches the future cop's eyes for a beat, her fatigue with the very idea of dealing with more Magneto's palpable.

"... if you can't get a hold of Emma," she then says a touch quieter, "after a couple of days, come to Genosha. You can log our sample," is offered as her eyes skate from his. "Assuming we make any headway on disassembly by then."

This is punctuated by a nose-wrinkling frown and a soft groan before she lifts her eyes back to Bishop.

"You want company? When it comes time to interview this mutant the NYPD has?" A smile just large enough to flash a peek of white touches her lips.

"If these guys are as hardcore as it sounds, then you could use a bad cop."

Bishop has posed:
"If you can tolerate Quentin Quire." responds Bishop, "The mutant perp who was used by the MLF to incite the situation and control the police was snatwched up by Ghost Rider during that mess. He..did something to him."

Ah, the supernatural. Magic. He can absorb it just fine but don't ask him to make much sense of it, even with his particular ancestry not being all that distant from it.

"Put him into a catatonic state. Considering j the potential risk and psosibly needing to bring him back out of that state I 'recruited' Quentin. He showed some responsibility when I encouraged Paige to come back here to get checked out, along with Surge. I thought I'd reward that...."

He flicks off the security monitor now with Lorna's access now restored.

The monitor with the data on the attack he leaves up, clearly intending to start pouring over it.

"The Blob at a book signing.." he notes, absently, having not missed that little detail, "Looks like I need to do some re-evaluating there. Not exactly something I'd have assumed would be on his radar."

There's another pause and he adds, "..And Domino as well?" Seems he knows her or of her, "...Is there anyone else The Queen of Genosha is keeping company with these days that I should know about or should it be a surprise for later?"

Lorna Dane has posed:
"A Queen can't pick favorites among Her people," is all Lorna says of her recent company, smiling gently.

"Quentin shouldn't be a problem," follows as the smile mutes. "Just let me know-- and."

Lorna slides from the desk and paces towards the seated officer.

"Thank you for listening," follows quietly, accompanied by a firm hug around those broad, powerful shoulders. "And the rest, too. We'll figure this MLF bullshit out together, ASAP; I won't sit back and let a bunch of blood-drunk morons ruin what the rest of us are working towards with their non-existent grasp of strategy. I'll keep you in the loop about the Purifiers, too; they need to be ripped out from the root," she swears, softly.

Thunderously.