18084/The Fire In Which They Burn

The Fire In Which They Burn
Date of Scene:	19 May 2024
Location:	Hammer Bay
Synopsis:	While she recuperates from her brutal encounter with Purifiers toting beyond-cutting edge tech, Domino is met by the Queen of Genosha and encouraged to embrace the righteous anger that burns in her gut.
Cast of Characters:	Lorna Dane, Neena Thurman

---

Lorna Dane has posed:
Genosha has regular, wholly conventional hospitals dotting the island, and Domino doesn't wake up in any of them.

On the palace grounds, there is a low-lying structure full of open spaces, vast windows, and the persistent, distant babble of water over stones; it isn't the only one of its kind either, but it is the Queen's. Regular hospitals are for solving regular problems through regular means; they're there for every day needs. Cottages like this one are for everything else. They're for healers more than doctors; wisdom more than raw scholarship. Knowledge is power, and knowledge comes in many forms; so, too, does power. After the assault on the Twisted Helix, Domino was brought to the island and promptly flagged due to irregularities in the local probability field centered on her-- irregularities beyond the bounds of what her X-Gene talent would normally imply.

So instead of a hospital, she's in a Cottage. Instead of beeping, hissing, wheezing machines, there are several leads running from points on Domino's body to a single silent monitor. Instead of bland, inedible obscenity, she's fed with fresh Genoshan produce.

And she has her own room, with a view of Hammer Bay.

Some hours after arrival - once Domino's had a chance to recuperate somewhat, regain consciousness, eat, and so forth - there's a perfunctory knock on the door before it creaks open. Walking a fine line between simple and not, Polaris - Queen of the island - enters draped from shoulders to ankles in what seems at once to be a single huge, sprawling length of diaphanous green fabric and numerous carefully arranged layers of the same. Either way, the result is the same: a light and flowing gown that hugs her figure just so, silhouetted in enfolding fabric. Two pairs of silver chains running from a small, steel skull diadem centered on her forehead wrap around her otherwise wild, flowing green waves.

"This isn't exactly how I'd hoped to run into you," she exhales, looking the mercenary over with slightly narrowed eyes and black, green-cored lips pursed in concern.

Neena Thurman has posed:
Life from the moment Domino had crashed through that bookstore had been accelerated into the fast lane. First from the resulting battle against some particularly high ranking jerks to being whisked away to a vastly different corner of the globe to /then/ end up within The Palace of Genosha. She's no stranger to getting special treatment on count of having money or connections, but this... This is something wholly different. Frankly, it's the closest she's ever felt to being royalty.

As Lorna enters it's also as close as she's ever been to actual royalty. A visit from Lorna Dane, while expected, didn't have a set time and thus still manages to catch her a little off guard. Clearly not in her prime and feeling all too out of place, the albino's attention snaps toward the green themed mutant and a prompt attempt is made to sit upright. Luckily for her, it proves to be largely successful. Thank goodness she hadn't been shot in the ribs.

"Trends and I aren't always on speaking terms" she says with an impish smile. "Polaris. Uh. Queen..? Highness? I'm not sure how things work around here." It seems safe to think they work a bit differently from when she had occasionally hung around on an asteroid, a lot has changed since then. Much of which she had up to this point been deliberately keeping a healthy distance away from.

"I appreciate the assist." Things for her would have gone much differently without it and it had been all too clear at the time.

Lorna Dane has posed:
"Thank the Blob and Exodus," Lorna answers with a brisk wave, "for ensuring that you made it here safely." Gathering a bit of material close, Lorna folds an arm across her midsection and takes a seat on the edge of the bed, twisted to keep her eyes set firmly on Domino. She leans inwards, silent; neutral--

"This isn't an official meeting," she softly says, a smile suddenly touching her lips. "'Polaris'; 'Lorna'."

She gingerly squeezes the albino's shoulder for a moment then draws back and folds her hands in her lap. "I would have been there in person, but every teleport vector we tried, bounced. The interference didn't break until Exodus brought you back."

The smile is gone. There's no trace of there having been a smile. The idea that there could have been verges on antithetical, given the cold and stony fury that builds with each word of explanation.

"Needless to say: there'll be opportunities for reciprocation," she lowly promises.

"If you have a taste for them."

With lowering lids, she takes a long breath to steady herself somewhat; upon letting it out, she lifts her chin slightly and opens her eyes to look into Domino's.

"... and I understand that there are more eyes to take besides those," she then utters, soft and steady. "Alaskan eyes."

Neena Thurman has posed:
"I'll do that" Domino offers, leaving out the bit about 'if I happen to bump into them again.' Though one of those two names happens to be on her short list. How convenient.

This not being an official meeting brings out a more mischievous look from the pale lady, along with a soft, knowing "Oh. Straight to the covert ops, you know how to make a lady feel special."

Smiles exchanged, a squeeze to Dom's shoulder which isn't resisted, the exchange of pleasantries is brief but they cover all which might need to be covered.

Interference... It brings a frown to Dom's face, the cuts there all but completely gone by now. "Something screwy was going on there, for sure. I never felt anything like it." Something terrible, something frightening. Something which she'd really rather never experience again, having her very power taken, then turned, on her. All without warning. It was a violation like none other, instilling an anger which Lorna would well know in that pale blue stare.

"As a matter of fact, I do" she confirms in a cool tone.

An ace still hides in Lorna's sleeve. The moment she mentions Alaska Domino's expression hardens further as she carefully watches the Magnetrix. "You're familiar with that operation, then." A statement, not a question. "Blink, I assume." The most likely candidate to have shared such intel. More in a preemptive measure, she assures Lorna "Not upset. Not with her, anyway. Though I suspect our friend Blob might hold a slight grudge somewhere."

Lorna Dane has posed:
"The Blob is a proud man, and I don't think he'll take all that kindly to the idea of Humans making shitty copies of him," the Queen agrees. Despite a broadly even tone, there is a palpable edge of menace which runs beneath the very idea of him learning what was done to his image. His body, albeit in fractional form.

"Blink and I talk," she then adds, softer-- fondly, even, at least for this moment in which they're talking about their mutual friend/acquaintance. "She was bothered by what she saw too; it... well, it galvanized her, I think." She breathes deeply; slowly.

"Reminded her all over again of what Genosha is, and what needs to be done to protect Her," she exhales. The full weight of Blink's ties to the island - her origins dating back to before Magneto's conquest - sit on the tip of Lorna's tongue before being swallowed, lending a deepening air of outrage to her bearing all the same.

"What did you see when you were there, Domino?" is what comes out instead, the verdant queen curling her leg onto the bed as she scoots nearer.

"What'd it make you feel?" she wonders, dipping towards a lethal whisper.

"What did you want to do about it?"

Neena Thurman has posed:
"As he shouldn't" Domino agrees. "No one should ever be okay with what happened there, regardless of whether it had been done to them."

Lorna's sudden shift in demeanor when Blink's name is mentioned is noted and filed away for later. "She saved all of us down there. Everyone took part of course, but without her none of it would have been possible." It's a happy coincidence Blink and Dom had been drinking pals on the asteroid beforehand. Clarice was an obvious choice for being hand-picked for the mission.

"She's doing alright, then?" As well as can be expected? Gosh, being around Lorna can be /intense./

Doubly so when the conversation is turned to focus on the mercenary. Lorna's questions come quickly, calculated. Each one carries significant weight behind it, enough for the albino to pause and consider them in full.

"I saw atrocities. What any decent nation would consider war crimes. It ..."

She bites off her own words, turning away from Lorna for the first time as fingers curl into fists.

"It reminded me of where I came from. One of two survivors, though I almost wasn't."

A deep, calming breath. "Scared. Pissed. Betrayed. /Used./"

She turns back to meet Lorna's watchful gaze. "I want to burn the whole fucking operation to the ground, and I want to find the man who hired /mutants/ to clean up his bullshit and throw him out of a very high window."

Here she slowly dips her head to one side. "Assuming Blob doesn't have any plans of his own on how to deal with the project head. I've already got someone assisting with the hunt. Giles is a dead man."

Lorna Dane has posed:
Domino dips her head to one side-- and with hardly any delay, she's met with two outstretched fingers grazing against her jaw.

"There's no shame in surviving, Domino," Polaris assures in a steel-clad whisper.

'Don't run,' she commands with bare, wordless pressure encouraging the mercenary to hold eye contact with her.

"Or in burning for years afterwards, whether you keep the fire grated off or not. They use us all the time; they take us, they joint us, they peel back the layers of us and bury themselves up to the elbow in us in the hopes of finding what it is that makes us."

True to her word, Lorna lets the fire that so readily rises in the presence of predation and exploitation glow hot and true beneath her assurances-- in the dim, roiling, crackling radiance of green eyes.

"They want to be us, but they don't want to be us," she states, bitterly. "They want to wield us, then throw us away when they're done. And it isn't ALL of them..."

The queen approaches, measured; deliberate. Once her lips are right near the mercenary's ear, she finishes reiterating the secret they both know all too well:

"... but it's enough."

The secret that carved one of them into unyielding marble, and taught the other that the real world's more complicated than dreams.

"You have my hands to help you pull this man out of the hole he's rotting in; the same goes for his collaborators," she continues. "Their co-conspirators. Their names and their works will be cast into the fire, and turned to ash-- less than a memory.

"A warning," she promises.

"... and then what?" follows after a beat of weighted silence.

"How does it make you feel, to know that Giles and the people who enabled him won't be the last ones to use us? Exploit us? Strip us for parts and weaponize us--?" she asks, so softly as to beg greater proximity even when she's inches away.

"What do you want to do about that?"

Neena Thurman has posed:
Not an opportunity is missed with Lorna, catching both Domino's jaw and her stare with ease. At first she's silent, watching and listening. Subtly nodding when Lorna speaks the ultimate truth.

'But it's enough.'

Something changes in the injured warrior as Lorna offers her resources to help completely bury the Alaskan project and every last name associated with it. 'A warning,' indeed.

Again Lorna digs into Dom's emotions. How does she feel, what does she want to do about it? Her response starts by tracing the outer edge of the blackened dot circling her left eye, knowing exactly where it marks otherwise pigmentless skin from years of staring at her own reflection.

"It was a project like that which made me. They wanted a killer they could control. An assassin they could use to hunt down and exterminate my own kind. I know better than most what lengths they would go to. And what I've found after years of coming across these situations?"

Lorna's stoking the fires like a professional. With her charm and resolve she could have risen to such power regardless of familial ties. But Domino doesn't see it as being played so much as being confronted to finally look into a mirror and say that which she had been trying to forget for all of her life.

"Humans never fucking learn."

The emotion in her words is a flash in the pan, pushed back down as she reaches for Lorna's hand. But in that brief moment her ultimate desires on the subject are laid bare. Her vote is for scorched Earth. Leave nothing but ashes behind.

"Hey, uh. There's...another matter which has been troubling me, and...well, you might understand. A few weeks back I was part of another mission, one where we were supposed to /protect/ some famous singer who is ...very outspoken against mutants."

The sentence ends with a humorless smirk, nearly accompanied by a chuckle at how absured it all sounds. "Wasn't my idea. In fact, the moment the guy came out on stage I /wanted/ to take the shot. Had him dead to rights. But it would have gone completely against the job."

"Thing is, shortly after some rift opened and a bunch of nasty looking powered sorts poured through, and /they/ wanted to kill him. Something about preventing horrible things from happening to mutants in the future. I still feel like I could have prevented a lot of this if I would have blown his damn head off when I had the chance, despite obvious collateral damage. I probably would have made a lot of powerful enemies in the same instant, but..."

Dom slowly shakes her head. "I don't want to be in that kind of position again. I have better things to do than risk my own life to protect some bigot who wants to see us all destroyed."

Lorna Dane has posed:
Other than a slight shift of her fingers to brace them beneath Domino's chin, Lorna doesn't really move much as the albino mutant answers. She certainly doesn't speak; the persistent, writhing gleam in her eyes are enough to confirm she's listening.

The electric heat thrumming across her skin, pulsing in and out of tangibility - stoked by each new sin shared, each coldly voiced truth, each indignation - confirms that she's listening.

And the seething silence in Domino's wake--

The slow, permission-seeking movement from Domino's fingers to her face as Lorna tries to gently brush her thumb through the brand that gave the mercenary her name--

Those confirm that Domino was heard.

Loudly, in near-silence; clear as the waters lapping at the rocks outside.

"The Mutant Liberation Front," she offers, drawing her hand back to her lap. "I have reason to suspect that the leader's using brainwashing to grow his ranks and make his message more appealing. Even if they weren't exactly the breed of idiot to throw gas on the fire just WEEKS after every major government in the world reminded us how little of a shit they give about us," in their violent claiming of the Atlantic Starport jointly operated by a smattering of non-sapiens nations-- and the X-Men, among other independent teams, "that ALONE would be a problem..."

But they're not quite the point here, are they? The bitter edge and slowly shaking edge certainly didn't suggest that it was a story about the dangers of unchecked extremism.

"... but an asshole clock is still right at least a couple of times," she thus concludes before clenching her jaw briefly. "I get the urge: to rip out every tongue that would dare say a foul word about us, break every finger that's ever been lifted in disrespect... I get it.

"And you aren't wrong to feel it," she softly assures.

"But SOME Humans - SOMETIMES - can be taught. Even the ones who don't WANT to learn, they can be taught-- if not to accept us, or even to tolerate us, then to understand that we're best left alone."

After pulling away entirely, Lorna stands and paces from the bed. Her left ring finger curls briefly inward as she walks. "Someone like that - some idiot with a guitar screeching off-key racial slurs... it's infuriating that he exists. And putting a hole between his eyes, in front of all those people who'd paid to see him... it'd feel amazing. Electric-- right?"

Pausing, Lorna pivots to shoot a questioning look towards Domino.

"... but like you said: there'd be collateral damage. Not stampeding; the cross-fire of a posthuman fight, none of THAT-- the outrage AFTERWARDS. The talking heads," she continues as hers turns away. "The police departments strapping up with their new, surplus mutant-killing tech straight from Siancong, hard and ready for a chance to feel like heroes. The mistrust; the scorn..."

As she nears the entrance to Domino's room, she's met by a finely dressed young man carrying a fresh bottle of deep, brown liquor on a polished silver tray. Lorna snags the whisky and gives the servant a firm, grateful shoulder-squeeze.

Lorna Dane has posed:
"You were in a deeply, disgustingly, unfairly fucked up position," she says once he's gone. Turning on her heels, she begins circling back around to the mercenary's bedside. "And even though killing him wouldn't have been the best choice - for any of us - it doesn't mean you should be trapped that way again." The cap screws itself free and flies away as Polaris retakes her seat. She brings the bottle up for a brief, but decisive slug as she draws her leg back onto the mattress; by the time she's done edging back up to Domino, the bottle's lowered again.

"Or that you HAVE to be."

And then it's offered over to the mercenary as Lorna swipes the back of her hand across her mouth.

"They don't all need to be hunted, burned, punished-- just some of them," she tells Domino, settling back into secret-sharing distance.

"The worst ones. The ones that use us, murder us, and perpetuate all of us..." glows red hot in the narrow space between her lips and Domino's ear.

"Just enough, for the rest to learn."

Neena Thurman has posed:
Domino has said her piece for the moment, a rare occasion where she vents frustration and attempts to lift an unseen weight off her shoulders before it can join the other long buried memories within the dark void of her mind. She has her coping mechanisms and she will always find a way to soldier on, but there's frequently a raw wound left before she has a chance to drink these thoughts down into her personal oblivion.

Sometimes, every now and then, one is worth hanging onto. If not for closure, then for guidance.

With this piece said, she listens. Attentive Arctic hued eyes never stray from Polaris, complete focus given now as complete focus had been received.

Another slight nod when Lorna calls out the group responsible. The timing of it all had been particularly callous, though it seems probable that's exactly why they had acted when they did.

A thin smirk graces matte black lips when Lorna speaks of the correctness of an asshole clock. When she explains Domino's not wrong for feeling it the pale woman's gaze falters, momentarily flicking down to the bed as she explains some are worth saving then returning to watch the now pacing Magnetrix.

"I know" she says with a faint sigh. "Seeking genocide wouldn't make any of us better than the worst of them, and one shot in the wrong moment is enough to start a war." But, and Lorna gets it perfectly well, it doesn't stop the /feeling/ from occasionally taking root. To allow one's self to be consumed by the rage the other side had instilled, to be the hand of vengeance which would execute without remorse.

But Domino still possesses a conscience, beyond what manner of professionalism she happens to retain. She's typically more of a wildcard on her own time, not on a more global stage. Probably why she's avoided so much of this for so long, it'd be a bad combination of unpredictable elements.

Still, she'd rather not be the loose cannon everyone else needs to keep an eye on. Her pride alone wouldn't stand for it. Her luck... That's another matter. But her head needs to stay in the right place.

The next distraction comes from the way the cap unthreads itself and departs the scene. A cool trick, and the smallest demonstration of what degree of power Lorna happens to possess.

When the bottle is offered Domino glances down to it, reading more into the offer than merely a drink between friends. This bottle feels like it carries extra baggage. A commitment. Not one to be carelessly tossed back.

Dom refocuses on Lorna. "The worst ones" she agrees. "Just enough."

The bottle is taken and brought to ebony-stained lips. It's a different war. One where she's still a soldier. But not a monster.

Lorna Dane has posed:
It's smoky and smooth with a bitter finish, bottled on the island and made from local produce. Lorna doesn't lift a finger towards the bottle; she lets the mercenary drink all she wants and then some, encouraging her with silent, intent eyes not to limit herself.

"Just the cancer infecting the body of humanity," she simply says, draping her hands over her curled up leg, "and the rotting evidence that they ever existed to begin with. The weapons; the labs; the money... all of it. That singer...? Might be harmless; pull that thread long enough, hard enough, though... and there's no telling what you could find dangling on the other end of it--"

There's a brief pause as green-cored lips twitch. One hand moves so Lorna can squeeze the other mutant's knee.

"What we might find," she corrects. "All of us. You've spent time on the Asteroid; you've taken jobs, and been a fine friend... and if you WANT more--"

Now she lays her hand on the bottle, whether Domino's still drinking from it or not.

"-- if you'd like to be more than a gun hired to brighten the odd dark place with a muzzle flash... if you're ready to help us help them learn that their only options when it comes to hating us are 'Change' or 'Die'... then you're welcome, Domino.

"We want you," she finishes, drawing back just enough to meet the other woman's eyes in full, "and nothing about it will be simple, easy, or pleasant... but it will be necessary."

Neena Thurman has posed:
As seems the case with everything on this island the brew carries a distinct regional uniqueness. A bit bold, a bit subtle, notes of complexity without overpowering its own layers. Domino swirls the liquid about, thoughtful, then goes for another swig. Not that it's distracting her too much from the real business at hand.

Much like when dealing with Jared Banks it's important to keep personal emotions in check, though none of this is new to her. "'Follow the money'" she says with a dip of her chin. There's always something worse the further along one ventures.

When Lorna reaches for the bottle Dom hands it over. By now there isn't much left for her to consider. Lorna's already proven there's a home here for her, if she wishes. Polaris may have sweetened the deal, best impressions and all, but as it is Domino's been feeling in a transitional period lately. 'Rudderless,' as it were. Being honest, the timing of all of this is pretty damn convenient. Blame it on her luck if you want to.

"Complex, difficult, and unpleasant are familiar pals. I think we can make this work." And being wanted? Always a nice feeling.

"There may be some complications if word gets out I've joined the Genoshan Movement. I'd expect more than some hurt feelings, but I can't keep following ideals I don't believe in."

The X-Men? Already a distant memory thanks to limited exposure and her work schedule. X-Force? A tricky one, but they've already brought in known members of the Brotherhood. Personal relationships... Those are already complicated. But she's too caught up in this mess to turn her back on it any longer.

Another glance down as she considers, then she subtly nods once. A look back to Lorna confirms her decision.

"I'm in."