5262/Good and bad are perspective

Good and bad are perspective
Date of Scene:	19 February 2021
Location:	Recreation Room
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Erik Lensherr, Megan Gwynn, Wanda Maximoff

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Erik Lensherr has posed:
An impossible sight within the walls of Xavier's mansion would be that of Erik Lansherr seated near one of the windows reading quietly to himself. Wearing a warm sweater over a checkered button up shirt, slacks, and a pair of loafer, his long white hair and beard are all that prevent him resembling Mr. Rogers, perhaps. A comparison that he would find quite amusing, no doubt.

A pair of spectacles rest on the bridge o his nose, silver-blue eyes scanning across the page of his book. A book whose page he turns with the gentle dab of his thumb against his tongue to create friction against the paper.

Across the room there's a bored looking observer. One who has been tasked to keep an eye on the mansions guest. Which probably has a lot to do with why Erik is making it worse by being overtly boring.

Never let it be said that he's not petty, as he is egotistical.

Megan Gwynn has posed:
Megan Gwynn returns late to the mansion after a long day of studying, followed by a long night of shopping and plotting and plotting and shopping, and how did those lines of business and pleasure cross again?

Anyway, after finding the perfect dress for the Sadie Hawkins (which sadly had to be put on layaway as it was too expensive for her) she had returned to the mansion, tired but eager to watch her favorite movie which is on right about this time.

Soo a rather tired and ruffled looking Megan steps into the Rec Room, dressed in a black sweater draped over woodland green jeans and that bright pink hair and dragonfly wings that currently glisten in shades of grey and purple. She's tired but rather accomplished.

"Hmmmm, now where's that remote.." she mutters, heading for the sofa, totally unaware of the Master of Magnetism...For the moment. Give her a few..

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
It's not long after Megan's approach and subsequent entrance to the Mansion that Wanda appears on the front lawn of the X-residence. It's not by car, or by taxi or even walking that she appears. A deep-red hued hole appears in the front yard, and outsteps a diminuative young woman, dressed for the cold in a knee-length jacket, knee high boots, and jeans with a sweater.

Once through, it closes behind her, and without giving it a further glance, Wanda moves towards the front door, her hand poised as if to first knock. Her hand lowers, raises as if to rap, then lowers again in decided indecision. It's not a place she visits often; she hasn't been here since she'd seen Lorna last, and that's been months.

Erik Lensherr has posed:
Erik notes Megan's arrival, but remains silent for the time being. Paying full attention to what he's reading after a cursory glance at the young lady searching for the remote, a small smile yet plays across his face at the simplicity of such things. A casual gathering, a quiet interlude. The reality being that, once she is aware of him, he's fairly certain any simplicity or casual nature will evaporate as surely as does the snow once winter passes.

"I believe young da Costa left it on the table. Just there." He instructs helpfully. Pointing though she may not be looking his way at a table beside the couch with a hand extending up from the side of his book. He does not yet know the proximity to one of his children, only just beyond the doors leading to the front yard. Though it is rather inevitable that he would run into one or all three of them, the longer her remains here at the mansion.

Megan Gwynn has posed:
Megan Gwynn yawns again, stretching out lazily on the sofa. It's always nice to have the room to herself. "Ooooh oooh, is it still on? Hmm..Hmm..." she nods and smiles at the helpful voice, grabbing the remote and flips through the channels to watch her favorite tv show - Winx club! But it seems to be on commercials at the moment and she sighs, climbing slowly to her feet.

"Mmm, may as well fix me a snack.." Annnnd that's when Megan sees a familiar faces and realizes she's not alone. Waaait, a minute, isn't that.. "Gah!" she nearly hits the ceiling as she jumps. "Heeey, how'd you....Uh...Heey! Aren't you...Uh...Wha!?"

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Movement. Motion always catches an eye, and this is certainly the case. Green eyes flicker towards the backlit room, the window first showing a somewhat familiar silhouette, and as he turns away, there's a breath exhaled in perhaps relief that she still has a moment to herself with which to steel herself. She's not got her brother with her, and so?

This is a solo run.

With a murmured word under her breath in Sokovian, perhaps a curse, perhaps something to help her get through this next moment (or maybe both), she takes the less normal way in.

Stepping back off the porch, her hands reassume a softly glowing red hue, and in the next second, a portal opens, and the witch steps though. Once she's gone, it winks closed and reopens in the rec room.

In the recreation room, then, perhaps it's a surprise with a deep crimson-edged tear in the fabric of reality opens, and out steps a redhead, her hair loose and hanging down her back. She's dressed for the cold, and once she takes that single tread, the portal that she'd opened simply closes behind her.

"I could not knock." As if that's explanation?

Erik Lensherr has posed:
"Hm?" Erik gently places the silk divide between the pages and closes it with the snap of his fingers together. Gingerly plucking his spectacles from his face to set atop the book laid aside, beneath the light ont he table beside him. "I didn't mean to startle you, young lady." His hands come together at the end of his knee where it sits across his other thigh. Fingers linked like lattice work.

The reaction is not unusual... alright it might be a little unusual, but it's not off putting. "Yes, I am sitting here." Deciding to play along. Confident she knows who he is and just self indulgent enough to wait for her to admit it. His presence might be out of place at the mansion, but there are few people as recognizable in the mutant community as he is. Or so he tells himself.

So far as it goes, he raises brow at his daughters sudden appearance in the room. Surprised is relative to the situation, however. When your child can bend reality to her will, it becomes unsurprising to you when she does that. It'd be like a pilot being startled when a plane takes off. "Wanda." He greets her after several moments of quiet observation. Moments that last only as long as a few breaths. A great deal of time, really. "Nor should you have to." Knock.

Megan Gwynn has posed:
Megan Gwynn narrows her eyes on the old, white haired guy who...Okay, that's definitely Magneto, isn't it? Or like...Maybe he's just like, a really good double. It's not like she's ever seen him up close or in person. Only like, on tv, and stuff, you know, all that stuff a bout Genosha, soooo...Whyyy....

"Err. Oh! Haha! Sorry, thought you were someone else, you know..'That guy from Genosha..'" For once, Megan is careful with her words, careful not to say 'That crazy evil lunatic ruler of Genosha' or, y'know, something similarly...Crazy. Heh, she nearly got flattenned by Ilyana for 'accidently' dropping someone in limbo. No need to tempt fate ag--

Oh. There's another portal. Is it...Ilyana? Good grief, does she ever have the worst luck or what? Prepare to be squ--!?

"Oh. Oh! It's uh, Wanda, right?" she laughs nervously. Isn't she known to have like, scary powers like Illyana? Not that Megan has ever met her, probably heard of her, seen her around, but..Y'know...

"Um....I'm just....Gonna grab some...hot cocoa!" more nervous laughter as Megan ducks behind the cupboard door, searching for some cocoa. Or maybe a rock to hide under. Or something.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda looks as one would if she simply walked through the halls and landed in the room, she's so accustomed to that mode of travel. She glances at poor Megan, green eyes sympathetic. It's not often one sees open portals, is it?

"I will not hurt you," in case the younger mutant is actually afraid. Nervous laughter is usually a cover for fear. It wouldn't be the first time, certainly. She's not only a mutant, but she's a powerful one; something being an Avenger doesn't really help. Not much, anyway.

"Yes, yes it is." It's given in a friendly-enough tone, her Eastern European lilt definitely showing.

It's Magneto, however, that she turns to, foregoing the request for cocoa, and instead, she takes a step towards him, her head canting. "I heard you were here," Wanda begins. "From riot." To make the connection, it wasn't //that// hard. "At first, I could not believe." There's a ghost of a smile that shows, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes, "Why?"

Erik Lensherr has posed:
Megan's antics, while quietly amusing, are only a temporary distraction with Wanda's appearance through the portal. Erik's hands remained locked against the curve of his knee, eyes fixed upon his daughter, and a smile hidden somewhere in his groomed beard. One brow raises just so, looking from Wanda to Megan's chosen place of hiding, then back again.

If he's apprehensive to address the elephant in the room, it's a short lived thing.

"I should have done what, exactly?" He wonders of his daughter in regards to the riots. "I was here when those riots began.. I saw that they were underway on the television. I know it would be easy to blame me, certainly a common accusation to point he finger this way, but I assure you that I am not responsible." Noting that he did not say innocent.

"I went to assure that whatever /is/ happening did not lead to the death of mutants. And it's good that I did so, as the police were more than willing to pick their side."

Megan Gwynn has posed:
Megan Gwynn arches a thoughtful brow at Wanda and smirks, "Hah, I'm a teleporter too, no worries. For a second, I thought you were a certain *other* teleporter." she giggles a bit, still nervous but ducks behind the cupboard again, pulling out a couple of mugs, some cocoa and a bag of marshmallows..Ooh and some candycanes left over from Christmas, some milk and whipped cream from the fridge. And gets to work, warming up the milk on the burner in the kitchennette.

As the father and daughter have a shaky little reunion, she pretends not to listen, humming softly in the background as she works on the hot cocoas, stirring the pot occasionally, grounding up the peppermint with a rolling pin. Once the milk is warm enough, she stirs in some cocoa and adds just enough sugar and cinnamon to make it deliciously cozy and sweet. There's a hint of cinnamony warmth in the air by now.

She nearly burns her lips and squeaks as she tastes the warming milk with a spoon, blowing both pot and her mouth rapidly. And finally once it's done, she fills three cups of steaming cocoa, topped with whipping cream, crushed peppermint and just a drizzle of caramel and sets one down on the table in front of Wanda, Erik (?) and herself.

And listens quietly (Translation: Eavesdrops) as she pretends to busy herself with stirring and cooling her cup of cocoa. Right, the riots. Genosha. Killings. Craziness. Mutants dying..Hmmmmm........

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda offers the other woman a warm smile as she mentions 'I'm a teleporter too', and she nods as she drops her hands in front of her, fingers entwined. She watches the hot chocolate preparations as if committing it to memory for later. Hot cocoa on a cold day, in front of a fire...

Her head quirks, brows rise in quick inquiry, "Other teleporter? I think there are few of them," she returns with humor evident in soft, lilting tones. "One is blue.." and a hand comes up to tick off theatrically, but stops at the one.

Another step is taken forward towards Erik, and her eyes are on his now, his face, his eyes. "I know," she returns, "It is point of pride." Every mutant can be saved, should be saved. "There is no use for us to kill each other." Words often spoken.

There's a pause, the span of only a couple of heartbeats before she reaches out a hand. "Pietro and I speak of going to Genosha. There is too much..." and she shakes her head, "... is difficult here."

Erik Lensherr has posed:
Erik eyes the mug set near to him, reaching out for it with a nod to Megan, "Thank you, my dear." Hooking his index finger through the loop on the side of the mug, it's pulled around to sip the contents within. Making a sound like appreciation and delight, to accompany raising it in salute to the creator. "This is very good. Thank you again." It's not every day someone has hot chocolate with Magneto, is it?

Well, aside from Wanda. She's likely done so.

Whatever he is, he was a father. If not a very good one all of the time. "Not pride." There's some pride, "Nor just protecting Mutants. I protected those cops as well.. and those bigots." Which doesn't necessarily please him, but he'd made promises to Charles. So long as he was at the mansion.

The choice, as usual, was Erik's to make.

At the mention of Genosha, his expression sours. Only a touch, but he looks down at the contents within the mug now clutched between both hands. "Yes, well. Lorna is now in control of Genosha." For better or worse, Erik was no longer recognized as the ruler. He'd cast himself into a different role, constructing Astroid M from the corpse of the country he'd created. "I doubt that Lorna would be so pleased to see me. Though I hope that you might give her my love, should you venture there."

Pietro.

It's hard to say what his feelings are, with regards to the twins. He speaks fondly with Wanda, but Erik has always been good at manipulating the narative. His true intentions and thoughts oft hard to define. "You /look/ well."

Megan Gwynn has posed:
Megan Gwynn smiles and nods to Wanda. "Oooh, you mean Kurt Wagner? Yeah, he's pretty cool. And of course, there's..." She rolls her eyes. "Illyana...She's...Kinda scary.." Megan pouts a bit as she stares into her cup, taking a sip. Mmm. That hits the spot. So cozy. So full of sugar. Gah! Too hyper!

She arches a thoughtful brow as Wanda talks of saving mutants and sighs, nodding in agreement. "I guess some mutants can be..More complicated than others, but you have a point there." She smiles faintly as she carries her hot cocoa back to the tv, but turns the volume down a bit, not wanting to interrupt their little chat.

Erik is given a small (shy) smile and nod on the way. "You're welcome! I always say, hot chocolate warms the heart!" Megan sure seems to have a lot to go around as she flops tiredly on the sofa, but she's more intrigued with the conversation behind her than the tv show right now..

It doesn't take long for her to fall asleep though, softly snoring in the backgound....

ZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzz......

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda takes the proffered mug as well, a dip to her head as she thanks the younger mutant. "Thank you," and takes that tentative sip. Her hand thusly, undoubtedly, not noticed, she wraps it around the mug for that warmth. Another steps is taken such that she can take a seat opposite the larger than life man, mutant.

"Lorna is absent," Wanda laments softly. "I have not seen her for awhile now." She's sad, in a way, but as their meeting was much later in life, the loss isn't //that// great. There isn't a hole, not like if it had been her beloved twin. "Perhaps she is there. Is not the reason to go, though. Perhaps we can help, Pietro and I. More than as Avenger."

She nods as she tucks herself into the chair, the tentative sip leading to something a little more. She smiles at the compliment, looking down at herself unconsciously before she raises her gaze once more. "I feel.." Fine? Well? "I feel strong enough." She has her anchor, after all. Her brother.

"You.." she pauses before adding, "You look different." She holds up a hand, then to explain her words. "Different than I remember." Before, he was larger than life, there present, in all splendor and glory.. then, disappeared. And she hadn't the chance or the opportunity to help him. Not really. Not as much as she'd wanted, or would have wanted.

Erik Lensherr has posed:
It is true, Erik does look different. He feels different too, if he's completely honest. Not weaker, certainly not less assured of his path and purpose, but.. older. Wiser. Seeing things in a way that changes the light by which events are illuminated. Time in space, largely alone, seperated from friends and family will do that to a man. No matter how larger than life he may be.

"I shouldn't have left like I did." He'd torn Genosha apart to create that astroid sanctuary and left millions of mutants behind. It was not a proud moment. Yet something he cannot change, only make up for. Smiling, his shock blue eyes watch his daughter as she works through her words and examines each one before speaking it. "Perhaps we all three should go, then." To Genosha. A family reunited, seeking out to remedy the sins of their past.

With one more sip of hot cocoa, the mug is set down on the table beside the book he'd been reading. A humorous thought occuring to him, one that twinkles in his eye. Specifically at Megan's mention of Kurt. "There was a young woman here that reminded me a great deal of the Nightcrawler." In appearance, "She claims, in so much as anyone can claim anything, to be from an alternate timeline to ours. That she is my grand daughter. Your daughter... with Kurt."

The corners of his eyes wrinkle as the smile widens on his face, "Is there something I should know?" He hardly believes that Wanda is together with Kurt, but a part of him does delight in the idea of having grand children. Even if he might never say so.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda nods; she doesn't need to say anything more than Erik already has. She's not one to beat a dead horse, and she's not the overly skeptical twin; that award goes to her brother. She is, however, a little more cautious. "Perhaps we can," is given in return, a hint of a smile appearing behind the rim of her mug of hot chocolate. "I think I would like that." As she speaks those words, of course green eyes dance in the knowledge that her brother would not be quite as assured in the sentiment.

The switch of topic does gain a slight shift in the witch, and her feet touch the ground lightly, even if it is just her toes. The chairs are large, after all.. more suited to curling than properly sitting. "You met her?" It's a quiet exclamation; one that is born of knowledge of the topic. She honestly laughs, the sound subtle in her throat as she nods. "She.. was surprise. Showed on doorstep to Avengers Mansion." There's the touch of a fond smile on delicate features as Wanda continues, "She spoke of a warm family. And a father," she looks deliberately at her own, "that I have only met in passing twice."

A pause is given, the hesitation somewhat theatric, "She is lovely.. perhaps.." and she lets her voice trail off, her tones a touch playful. Shaking her head, she exhales in a puff and pulls her feet back up. "No, not him. No children. Nothing too serious to think of marrying and children." In a way, it's wistful. She does love children, and should her life have gone in another direction? She'd be happy in the caravan with other Roma, raising her own brood.

Erik Lensherr has posed:
"I did." Erik was content to let the horse lie where it had, his desire and enjoyment in hearing his own voice only as strong as the topic for which he speaks. He'd never grow tired of hear himself preach the praise of mutantkind, for instance. In that way, he and Wanda are very much alike. In others, his inability to trust, it is he and Pietro.

Skeptical about this woman who claims to be his grand daughter. He listens all the same. Mutant lives are often quite odd by the nature of their abilities. His own daughter can change reality on a whim and a desire... but so much as to create timelines adjacent?

That might be a bit much to swallow.

"There is something, then." His intention is one of teasing. He's not been a father enough to play the role of protector, though a small part of him would anyways. In this case, he doesn't. Wanda is a big girl and can absolutely take care of herself.

"It's never too late." He was nearly seventy when the twins were born, afterall. With that said, and his age remembered, Erik pushes up from his chair. "I wish that there were more hours in the day, but as it is... I must get some rest. At times I feel a man half my age and others-" Waving a hand, "-Well, more than that." Because lord knows he doesn't look his age.

"It's been lovely seeing you, dear Wanda."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda finishes the cocoa, and with a quick brush of her hand that holds a touch of the red wisp across the top, the mug is cleaned completely. She lets go of the cup, and rather than it heeding the law of gravity, it floats there in the air before she sends it off towards the bar only to have it settle atop. No sense showing off too much, that is, putting it away into the cabinet.

Not //just// a teleporter, but Wanda wasn't going to tell the mutant young woman that.

"It is not too late," Wanda agrees with a smile, "Perhaps one day." Her having children, while one of the most domestic conversations one could have, is not the ideal; she doesn't foresee a future with them, running the way they do. No single home, nothing that even resembles stability, either in home or in society. Their lot is to remain moving; such is the life of a mutant Roma.

One again, Wanda sets her feet upon the ground, and rises. "It is good to see you," she admits. "I will give Pietro your regards." And then watch the speedster explode, perhaps. All is well, however... no promises made, no alliances, no offers of 'joining forces' beyond the potential family reunion.

It will be okay.

"I will come again. Sleep well."

Before Erik departs for his room and slumber, Wanda turns to spin a quick spell, that self-same portal that will return her to her hotel room. Edged in the deep crimson, Wanda steps through, and in the next heartbeat, she's gone. The portal is closed, and other than the mug on the countertop, there's nothing left of her.