475/A Royal Request

A Royal Request
Date of Scene:	13 March 2020
Location:	Upstate New York
Synopsis:	Mystique barks at Lorna who begins to snarl back.
Cast of Characters:	Raven Darkholme, Lorna Dane

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Raven Darkholme has posed:
    The snow from yesterday has for the most part melted away and the clouds over head are beginning to thin, yet there is still a bite of winter in the air before the first official days of spring arrive. Xavier's School has opened up this morning to a simple and beautiful morning, one where Lorna was left a message on her pillow, "Find me at the Hole-In-One, inside against the south window. XO"

    The donut shop has been open a couple hours by this point and at one of the few tables in the place sits an older gentleman, against the south window with a tweed flat cap on his head and a pair of large circle bifocals on his nose. He lifts his coffee to his lips while reading the heavily folded news paper in his lap, his pointed dress shoe tapping against the faux wood floor while waiting for the verdant mutant to show up.

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna did not enjoy cryptic messages, no more than she enjoyed being told what to do, particularly by someone she did not fully trust. Vaguely, she knew Mystique, and the woman's previous ties to the Brotherhood, and through that her father. But in Lorna's mind her father had long since distanced himself from that time, he had been King of a country, and a successful one at that. Why would Mystique try to contact her?

Still, the green haired woman arrived, having borrowed a car in one of the first and only times she'd left the Mansion alone in the past few weeks. No one had wanted the fragile magnokinetic to go out alone, much less have a break down beyond an area where someone might prevent her powers from going out of control.. should she utterly lose it.

Lorna entered the donut shop with a warily glance, wearing a pair of jeans, black boots, and another black turtleneck and jacket combo. The chill in the air was still less than desirable, and she longed for the tropical climates she'd lived in for the past few years. Slowly, she made her way over to the old man, inhaling a breath, and exhaled slowly.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
    "Please, have a seat. The jelly filled are delicious here." Says the man, lowering his paper to his lap and sliding the paper plate with a couple of donuts still on it towards Lorna. "I know we didn't interact much." The shapeshifter begins as he scooches his chair forward with a rather loud screach sound from the chair and the floor.

    "I know you have zero reason to trust me, but you should at least know I helped your father." He says, taking his glasses off in his hand and taking the time to pull out a pocket square and begin to scrub away the smudges and scuffs on the surface. "I did far more than what you might have heard about me." Andrew explains as he leans back to look up through the glasses into the light.

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna arched a green eyebrow upward, but reached out and pulled the plate toward her, picking a donut at random and shrugging as she bit into it. She dusted her fingers off on a nearby napkin as if waiting to see how Mystique gauged her nonchalance with eating what was offered to her. "Not too bad." She murmured, and rolled her shoulders back.

She finished another bite and set the half eaten donut down. "I don't entirely feel comfortable with you coming onto the Mansion grounds. There are kids there." She started, and exhaled a breath, her lips pursed together. "Nor did I entirely appreciate getting a lecture from my dead father's voice. That's not your's to use." She bit out, and crossed her arms as she leaned back in the seat.

"Even if you had a point... and I am well aware that my father didn't tell me everything."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
    "I don't want to lecture you." Says the man as he places his glasses back upon his face, and he blinks a few times while looking through them again until his eyes adjust, "You know I have kids of my own right?" The man smirks as he watches her take a bite of the donut and sets it back down. "I told you they were good." The spysmith is excellent at keeping small talk in the converstation, "I'm not here to make a point. I'm here to make sure everyone is considered when you make any decision. Not that you aren't, but the actions you've taken do not appear to be those of someone in a leadership position." Carefully chosen words to not give her position away to those walking by, this is on purpose and he is crafty in his choices.

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna exhaled a breath, crossing her legs as she leaned back in her seat. A shrug followed Mystique's comment that she had kids. And she looked irritated more as the mutant shapeshifter continued to speak. Her gaze narrowed faintly and she finally leaned forward once more, her seat creaking beneath her. "I was lost in a wasteland for two weeks, after surviving the worst genocide to date. I saw people blasted to nothing in front of me. I was covered in their ashes." She hissed, her voice low.

"So pardon me if my head hasn't been on straight while I deal with not being able to sleep without hearing their screams in my ears at all hours. My father had decades to deal with issues. It's been less than a month." She bit out, anger flaring hot and at the surface. The same old anger and manner of speech that her father often fell back on. It would seem, like father, like daughter.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
    "Yes he had time, but he wasn't attacked on his soil so openly and so devistatingly, and no, I will not pardon you." Andrew says, still sounding clam as he can be, like he's just having a simple talk with his daughter. Then he calmly reaches out and takes one of the donuts and states, "Glad you didn't take this one, this is the best. Lemon filling. Yum." He says before taking a large bite.

    "This is the time where people will remember what you did, and how strong you were, or weren't. Crying isn't a luxury you get to have any more. Not if you want to actually help people."

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna shook her head, her teeth grinding together as she pushed away from the table. Irritating flaring out right rage as Mystique spoke. Anger was easier to think through than fear and panic that had clouded her mind so much in the past few weeks. Anger and rage were just harder to summon to the forefront of her mind.

"Screw you, you don't know jack about what my father went through or what I've been through. It's easy to sit there and tell me what to do when you didn't go through it." She snarled, her face twisted with her rage and she physically trembled from it, her face turning reddened.

"I don't have anyone to help, they're all dead! How do you expect me to do //anything//!? Genosha was destroyed! I have //nothing//!" Her voice raising as tears of frustration stung her eyes. No doubt if others had been in the shop, they'd have looked over in concern by now.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
    "We collectively put millions of fists in the air and say: No! They will never silence our voices, and they will NEVER win!" Andrew says, lifting his fist as he speaks and stands at the same time to look taller than Lorna, "I was there when your father recorded that." He says, lowering his hand, and leveling his bespecticled eyes at Lorna, "I know exactly what your father went through, and you have thousands of misplaced people that are looking to you for guidance and leadership and to protect them and you're here, crying in your plush duvet in a climate controlled mansion." With a look up and down at Lorna, and a scowl like she's covered in some filth or grime, "You have more than your people who are suffering in tents. What a petulant child."

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna fell back to her seat, looking drained and exhausted of what little spark of anger she had had. Instead misery took hold, like a cloud crossing over the sun and darkening it immediately. What had burned hot moments before was utterly extinguished with Mystique's words. "He chose wrong. Pietro is out there seeking revenge, and Wanda is out there making appointments and speaking on behalf of the Avengers. He should've chosen one of them. Not me." She whispered, and shook her head, pressing her hands against her temples and wilting.

"And you're right, I am everything you say. Fighting? What good did that do anyone? It got sixteen million people slaughtered by the humans. Humans made those Sentinels. And it doesn't matter who sent them, because there's dozens of countries out there that would've gladly done it, and would do it again. I couldn't protect them. I couldn't protect anyone. Nor could my father. What's the point? They've won. The humans won." She threw up her hands and her lips trembled with barely restrained tears that clogged her voice. That stung her eyes.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
    "And you're still crying." The man says as he keeps standing. "You may be correct in the words you're saying, but the actions you keep taking, they're that of an entitled brat. Not that of the heir apparent of a nation. Not the words of a woman who was chosen by her father not because of what order she was born in, but because of what she can do. You can do better than Erik, but not if you sit and wollow in your own grief. In the grief of your nation."

    Andrew remains standing, "You can hate me if you have to, but I'm going to get you to work, one way." As he reaches his hand out to Lorna, the hand reaching for her looks impossibly familiar, and soon the voice she hears is eerily familiar, as green hair piles at her shoulders and Lorna looks back down into Lorna's eyes, "Or another."

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna blinked up at Mystique, blinking back the very tears that the other mutant slung insults at her.. All of which had none of the intended affect meant to spark her rage and anger. There was simple exhaustion left as the bout of grief went just as quickly as it left. She was //tired//, to her bones, tired. As her emotions cycled around her over and over again.

All of which vanished as the older looking gentleman vanished and Mystique shifted forms to one of a mirror image to the herself. An image that had been oh so carefully crafted for diplomacy over the years. One that she'd taken pains to keep positive and in the public eye. And now Mystique wore it as easily as a coat.

Lorna was on her feet in seconds, and within a breath, a handful of forks and knives zoomed over toward the other woman, threateningly. "People will know rather quickly you're not who you say you are." She snapped, "Don't you //dare//."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
    "I could say the same to you. You dare throw a pitty party, and when I offer you a chance to continue, and serve your people, you dare to stop me. Genosha will have its queen. You pick one." Lorna says in the same voice back to Lorna, without the metal shifting powers, Mystique however isn't so concerned about Lorna's threats. She has been in Hydra cells and labs for the past two years, this is a cake walk, or at least a donut walk.

Lorna Dane has posed:
Nor was Lorna hardened to the point of hurting someone that had done her no direct wrong. She was still a trained member of the X-men, and her father hadn't tried to break her of that particular quirk. As a result the knives and other utensils floated back down clattering softly to the table as the green haired woman turned away with a sigh.

"What would you have me do? I've been to Wakanda's camps.. the memorial in Mutant Town. People are healing, counting the dead, and trying to get through just one more day." Her shoulders slumped.

"Tell me what you want already..."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
    "I want you to stop hiding and go do, not what your father would do, but what you would want him to do." Mystique then shifts once again into a less twin look and into a raven haired woman with a bob haircut that curls around her chin. She keeps her hand held out towards Lorna, "We want the same thing, and I am going to help you." She says, wanting Lorna to look to the future she wants and start taking actions to make it reality.

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna heaved a deep and weary sigh, turning green eyes onto the woman that Mystique shifted into once more. She glanced briefly around and back, her eyebrows furrowing sharply. "I didn't want to be Queen, not like this. I always thought.. if would be years. Decades even. That I'd inherit a Genosha at the height of her power and prestige. That I would be able to show the world what it truly looked like... for mutants and humans to live together in peace. I wanted the rest of the world to be like that..." She whispered softly, her voice low and careful.

"Not the ashes of a broken, murdered people.." She measured her breaths carefully, pulling back any further tears from falling again. She eyed the hand, pursing her lips, and rolled her shoulders back.

"If you work with me, we'll need to set some serious ground rules..."