what's the MATTER? lost your MIND?

[Lorna Dane]

It was suppose to have been a sighting, but it turned out to be a two grown men playing dress up because they were believers of the mutant gods. A wasted trip. The two men were not even useful because the police had gotten to them first and taken them into jail. Upon hearing Magneto's speech on the television she had felt purpose and had direction for the first time, and it was just too bad that her direction didn't tell her were to go to find him. Making up her mind to join him had been easy, but finding him was proving the more difficult task. One that was only giving her more trouble then she had ever put into anything in her life.

There was still some fun to be had here. In protect of the believers the locals were having a rally tonight to show their unity in wanting the terrorist caught. She could make an appearance there. Politics didn't matter to her. She didn't understand them nor did she bother trying. Magneto told them to rise up, and rise up she shall.

Lorna pushed the sunglasses over her face to hide her eyes, and turned to walk toward the rally. There were chats and people holding signs, all either demanding hate or protesting love. Walking near one of the sign holders she reached out for it, turning it to her face. 'We are all God's children'. Oh hell. That hurt to even read. Lifting the sign she waved it with the rest of them, skirting the outside of the rally while trying to find it's center.

[x]

Charles had never really been one for religion. His family was traditionally Anglican, and Catholic before that, but neither of his parents had been particularly pious. Before his father died, his mother had made a point of attending church every Sunday—more for the sake of appearance than any actual piety, though. It was an apathy that took root in Charles when he was too young to understand what religious faith even entailed; the stories had always struck him as more akin to the fairytales the maid told him in fractured English while she went about her work.

However, he’d been in the minds of the faithful, had brushed against their thoughts more often than not as he struggled to control his powers. For many, there was such a sense of calm and peace that came from belief in a higher power that Charles couldn’t fully condemn religious faith. The political aspect was one thing; the people who simply believed and took to heart the best qualities of the religion were quite another.

Hank was an ever-constant presence behind him, hands gripping the handles of his wheelchair as he kept his eyes on the gathering crowd. People were chanting a variety of slogans and waving signs that read all multitudes of things, most commonly “We are all God’s children.” A nice sentiment, of course, and one that might get places with the more conservative percentage of the population, but otherwise a relatively hollow concept.

Sense anything, Professor?

Not yet, Hank, Charles replied, scanning the growing crowd. It may be possible that our query has decided to sit this one out after all.

Hank hummed a bit in understanding; unlike Charles, Hank had been raised by a mother who truly believed, even if she didn’t frequent church. They still spoke regularly, had done so even when Charles had been in the midst of his self-destructive downward spiral. Charles was pulled out of his thoughts by a sharp burst on his mind’s periphery. It wasn’t the mutant they were looking for—this one was about the same age, though, and she had a very specific goal in mind.

There’s someone else here, Charles projected to Hank. A young woman—green hair. She’s searching for Erik, it seems; his speech in Washington apparently resonated with her. He tried to keep the bitterness from tinging his thoughts, but he’d had quite the run of bad luck in his life.

Hank, blessed man that he was, said nothing and immediately angled the chair as per Charles’s instruction. Charles reached out and brushed against the young woman’s mind just a bit more. Her names was Lorna, and her mutation was...incredibly similar to Erik’s. Well, that was certainly unexpected.

[Lorna Dane]

This was it, this was the place she could have the greatest advantage. Looking at the stage, Lorna watched as the men spoke in heated tones about the dangers of believers and wanted to make an example of them. Ironic, because she agreed as well. Death to the pretender. Yet still she wasn't sure how to get to them, but she could get to this crowd. It allowed the best chance to get in and get out without getting caught. Perhaps this time it would even drawl the attention of the one man she needed to find Magneto. She knew nothing else about him other then what she had seen on the television. It was enough.

She'd learn more of what she could later, but from him rather then from humans. She hadn't met more mutants like, but she'd seen them, and heard of them. Soon she'd find them too, and the strongest of ones like her would be the ones who rose up like Magneto said, and Lorna would be the strongest. She'd be the greeted thing that human or mutant had ever seen. Eventually. First she had to fond the others. She began summoning up a plague from inside her, and turning it, shaping ti to do the most damage the quickest. Now all she had to do was pick which human to give it too. Which little sheep would best lead the others to slaughter?

[x]

Lorna’s mind was full of sharp edges and thinly veiled repulsion for the whole of humanity. She had plans, ambitions, and she viewed Erik as her ticket to fulfill them. The girl was working on an image aired on the television; she surly had no idea what Erik’s plans were for the future, of what consequences his actions would reap. What she wanted was strength, to rise up and be the strongest, to be the greatest mutant—her mind framed it in such a way that struck Charles as a competition one might witness in young children who had yet to learn to be anything but cruel.

And then he caught wind of her plans for the crowd. The metaphors she used were chilling in their own rights—sheep to slaughter, of all the comparisons—and Charles grit his teeth as he continued to keep track of her mind. He guided Hank towards her; Lorna’s actions would only cause greater turmoil, greater strife, and only exacerbate an already less-than-ideal situation. Raven’s actions in D.C. had turned into a ripple that could turn the tide of history if utilized properly, which meant plans such as Lorna’s could not be allowed to reach fruition.

You may want to rethink your plan, Charles projected, keeping an eye out for the body that matched the mind. I doubt it will have the effect you intend.