(no subject)
=BH= Abandoned Mining Facility
Heavily rusted buildings rise up against the siege of the surrounding forest in scattered clumps, their boxy construction often caved in under the weight of time and the leafy growth that's already reclaimed much of the abandoned facility. Only a few remain habitable, and even then, from outside appearances, it would seem they are barely so. Freshly laid dirt stretches dark and soft in the open spaces cleared between buildings, with hard-packed footpaths already being worn slowly into the soil. Elsewhere, it appears that preparations are being made to pave over the single dirt road leading into the sprawling camp with cement. At the center of it all, a large fire pit has been constructed using rocks brought from the stream. At night, smaller cooking fires dot the landscape, along with looming flood lights mounted near the two warehouses, and more recently, the factory.
It's a cold day in upstate New York. A /cold/ day, well below freezing, with scattered patches of white snow still crunching fresh underfoot across the facility. So it is that Erik has a black knit cap pulled down over the tips of his ears, the sweep of his overcoat buttoned stiffly over the lighter grey of the ribbed sweater beneath it. Gloved hands work into his pockets, and he squints a little warily at the structure set up before him.
A robust wall of smooth-polished steel, it stands just over fifteen tall and ten wide. From the front, it appears to be a solid block of metal; from the back, a narrow catwalk is visible three feet down from the top. Wind howls around it, but it doesn't so much as budge beneath the wary eye of Magneto. He waits.
Wind and cold batter at perfection of posture, leaving Ellen's shoulders squared and hunched against the onslaught of both as she emerges from the warmer innards of the compound. Her hands are naked and pale in the grey light, worked to fists at her sides; the rest of her is shielded by the dark serge of her overcoat. She peers at the solid block of metal, as though better focus of vision will make it resolve into a more explicable puzzle.
Pyro shifts his weight, stamping his feet against the cold. Jacket collar pulled high, and breath billowing out in visible clouds, he eyes the wall warily. "What's that supposed to be?"
From the dorms comes a figure, fairly tall and broad amongst usual company, looking little more than stocky here. Ewen pulls a blue beanie down over his hair as he walks stompingly towards the wall, green gardener's jacket puffing up around his shoudlers as he folds his arms across his chest, tucking his bare hands against his sides to try and keep them warm. He frowns faintly at the wall as he approaches and waits in slightly suspicious silence for an answer to Pyro's question.
The wind whips more chillingly around Mystique, left bare to the elements by choice rather than by practicality, but her posture remains stiff and straight as she studies the obstacle before them with narrowed eyes. Her head tips just slightly, enough to allow to Pyro, "I believe it's a wall."
"A wall," comes the cold-gravelled reply - Erik's head angled a little stiffly after Pyro before he extracts his arms
Masia follows the crowd, hands pulled inside the ends of her navy construction jacket, and tucked up under her armpits. A multi-colored knit hat, complete with a pompom, is pulled down as far over her ears as it can go. "Points for observation," she mutters, coming up behind Pyro to shove him with a shoulder as she moves past.
Darra rubs her hands together vigerously, shifting from foot to foot against the cold as she tilts her head up to look at the wall from behind sunglasses. Her denim jacket is buttoned almost to her neck, sweatshirt appearing just over the top of that, other then that, her head and hands are uncovered. The wind blows her short hair about and pulls away her visible breath and the last trails of cigarette smoke before she drops the butt to the ground and stomps it out. That done, her hands disappear into her jeans pockets. "No shit it's a wall. What are we supposed to /do/ with the wall?" She comments as she steps in a bit closer to the others, still observing said wall.
Cain leans against the wall of the recruit dorm, dressed in leather body armor dyed blood red. The Juggernaut rolls his eyes at the exchange, sending a cloud of Cuban cigar smoke into the air.
"A wall," Pyro repeats dryly. "Now why didn't I think of that?" He takes a few steps toward the thing, glancing around behind it. "So what's a /wall/ standing here for?"
"A wall," comes the cold-gravelled confirmation - Erik's head angled a little stiffly after Pyro before he extracts his hands from his pockets to fold his arms across his chest. His eyes sweep quickly over the motly gathering, and a slow breath is patiently exhaled to cloud around his shoulders before the wind swifts it away. "You are going to work together to get over it in fifteen minutes." His glare flickers to Cain. "All of you. You will have..." Erik glances to his watch, remembers that it doesn't work, and gives no indication of this fact, "Five minutes to discuss a plan. Starting now."
Ellen turns in silence to her brethren, brows swept up. Her hands turn out away from her hips in a question that she does not voice.
Ewen too remains silent, watching the wall instead and estimating its height in comparison to his own and that of those around him. He manages not to make any extremely obvious comments, though apparently it is something of a strain, his mouth opening and shutting as he turns towards the group.
"Over it? Why not just knock it down?" Cain suggests with a narrow smile, striding over to give the wall a closer inspection.
"Or you could just, you know. /Throw/ us over," is Masia's contribution of the moment to the plan as she ambles closer in, tightening the knot of recruits near the wall.
"The hell?" Comes Darra's immediate response as her gaze sweeps from Magneto back to the wall. Her arms clench over her chest against the cold, a visble shiver running through her. "'Thing's flat metal!" She glances around, then over to Cain. "Oh yeah. Or just go /around/ it. Thinking outside the box and all that shit." One hand dislodges from her grip to tap her temple with two fingers.
"That'd be one way, s'pose," Pyro says, stepping up to it and running a hand along the smooth surface. He takes a glance around the group. "No way we're getting Cain over if we have to pull him up."
"Going around it would not fit the parameters of the exercise." Ellen's voice cuts flat, although she does not bother to so much as look at the newcomer as she speaks. "Throwing us all over would require more than fifteen minutes if that fifteen minutes were to include all the time I spend afterwards repairing damaged bone."
"Your orders are to go over it," Erik reminds evenly, another deep breath pulled in that puffs his chest and sets his shoulders. He is still looking at his watch. "There is a catwalk mounted onto the back that will allow those that have gotten over to assist in pulling up the others."
"Lovely," Mystique murmurs, and shifts herself slightly to the side of the group with a hitched step to cross her arms over her chest. Observing.
"Ok. That'd be easy enough. Get a couple people up there, Goliath here lifts, they pull. Easy peasy. Only problem is gettin' him," Masia jerks her chin at Cain. "Up himself."
"Melt a couple of holes in the wall, use them as foot holes and climb up," Cain suggests, giving the wall a few experimental punches.
Darras head tilts to one side as she looks at the wall. "Might work. How we gonna melt holes in /that/ though?" She asks, not taking her gaze from the wall.
"How good are you, Pyro?" Ewen wonders with a faint grin. "Melting point of steel's not far off fifteen hundred degrees. Centigrade," he adds for clarification.
The impact resonates through the metal, but the resulting dent is just that - a dent, shallow, smooth, and dished - not much use as a foothold in itself. "You have one minute," Erik informs, "and a half."
"Hah," Pyro shakes his head. "Don't look at me. No way I could bore holes through that in 15 minutes. Even on a good day. I think Cain's the biggest problem. Think we could get him high enough so he could pull himself up if we all push?"
"Think Ellen could lighten him up some first?" Masia asks, eyeing the large man with great apprehension. "I don't think I want to be /under/ him if we can't."
Cain glares at Masia. "/No/," he informs. "Two holes, that's all we'd need," he decides. Then, turning towards Ewen he adds "What about you, think you can dent this thing?"
"This much metal?" Ewen asks, staring at it with a wrinkled nose. "Not a chance. 'F it was /thinner/, maybe." He has nevertheless started charging up already. This could possibly be called cheating. Considering Cain with thinned lips, he asks, "How much do you weigh?"
The canvasy material of his overcoat grating against itself, Erik shifts his weight somewhat, and steps forward, closer to the wall. "That's time. You may use anything on your person, and you may keep talking, but the clock has begun ticking."
"How about I just knock down a tree and climb up that?" Cain suggests with a shrug. "Doesn't look like any of you stand much chance of helping me up this thing."
"Could give it a try," Pyro shrugs. "Worst he can do is say we can't."
Darra looks between each speaker in turn, but feeling like shes got nothing intelligent to contribute, merely observes. Her hands rummage in her pockets for anything of value, but only comes up empty-handed. Her jaw sets in irritation, she doesnt want to be beaten by a /wall/. "Never said we had to climb the wall /itself/." She finally shrugs in Cains direction.
"Maybe I could grow spider pads on his fingers," Ellen says with a sort of dreamy speculative tone, scratching her head. "And toes."
"Or make his legs three feet longer," Pyro smirks.
"You do not have a tree on your person," comes Erik's dry ruling, a pair of knuckles cracked as he watches Ellen, and lifts a brow. "How much do you weigh, Mr. Marko?"
"Increases in height take much longer to do. Spider pads would be relatively simple," Ellen says. She lifts her hands and rubs them together so as to use friction to restore warmth. "Perhaps we should get one of the stronger of us up there to see what we are working with."
"Picky, picky," Mystique murmurs from the sidelines, shifting her weight just slightly.
"About four hundred pounds," Cain informs, then dryly he adds "Pyro, you'd need more time to make suitable holes right? We have a /time/ manipulator here, surely you have all the time in the world."
"Hnh." Masia turns around to eyeball Pyro and consider the effects of an altered timeline on him. "What else are we gonna climb?" she asks of Darra as well. As long as she's speculating, right?
"Was just answering him about the tree." Comes Darras short reply. She glances at Magneto, pondering the effects of an altered timeline on him, but doesnt voice that thought. Not yet anyway.
At Cain's comment, Ewen's eyebrows suddenly lift. "Shit, he's right. You heat it up enough for me to punch holes in it, Masia cools it down, instant ladder in the wall. Failing that," he adds with a grin, "I could /maybe/ give Cain a leg up and then try and fire myself at the top of the wall, 'f the rest of you could catch me."
Magneto says nothing, but he does smile thinly to himself before his eyes flicker to Mystique, and he concedes to look mildly annoyed.
"I think that'd slow down how fast the fire melted stuff too," Pyro shakes his head, dismissing the idea. "There'd be better ways of using fire, assuming I could get it to cooperate. Four hundred pounds, eh?" He looks at Ewen thoughtfully. "Might work. Could try, I guess."
How nice of him. Mystique manages to avoid Magneto's direction entirely, focused on the recruits instead.
"Why don't I just speed the pair of you up?" Masia says, rolling her eyes. "Unless you're afraid?" That one is directed Pryo-ways, since Ewen had already undergone a first-hand taste of Masia's powers.
"I am certain that any damage inadvertantly inflicted would be reparable," Ellen volunteers helpfully.
"Sounds reasonable to me." Darra spreads her hands, the idea works for her.
"Whatever," Pyro says, not looking at them and instead digging the lighter out of his pocket. "Everyone else better stand back a bit. Gonna get bloody hot here." To Ewen, he adds, "Think if I just focus on the wall, you can figure out the footholds bit?"
No problem," Ewen confirms, holding out his hands in explanation of his plan: he intends to blast the heated wall really, really hard. He is subtle."
"I could completely have given him spider pads," Ellen mutters.
"I am sure," Erik says with quiet sincerity - a slow pair of steps taken back away from the hunk of steel to be tampered with. Arms still folded firmly across his chest, he maintains a stern composure, and keeps relatively quiet, all things considered.
"You know..." Masia interjects thoughtfully, glancing between the wall and Cain's substantial form. I could just... you know. Rust the pockets myself?""
"Rusted holes wouldn't be strong enough to support you, let alone me," Cain informs.
"Why not?" Ewen asks, eyeing the wall again. "'F she can rust just little patches of it, she could make us a ladder the whole way up, the rest of it'd still be pretty solid. Right?"
"You have ten minutes." That would, of course, be Magneto.
"They would if the rest of it was solid," Pyro says thoughtfully. "Rust it, heat it up, maybe punch through the thinner parts."
Ellen slants a look over all her assembled brethren and frowns. "That had better happen quickly. Even with the ladder punched into place, it could potentially take too long for all of us to scale it."
"You just speed it up in little pieces, instead of the whole wall?" Darra directs this at Masia, guessing her to be the time manipulator. "If it was just bits the rest'd still be like that." She jerks a thumb at the wall.
Cain taps his foot impatiently, lighting up another cigar.
Masia nods her confirmation at Darra. "Whatever, boys. I'll speed you two up together, and the bits of the wall in a separate bubble. Just stay close together and..." Whatever else is she was going to say is thought better of, and she shrugs. She sketches a circle around them, and suddenly, they are moving so fast, they almost seem to disappear. To them, however, time around them freezes.
"Very industrious," Mystique comments, and her head tips to study the process of Masia's gift in action.
Perhaps a little disconcerted by this sudden change in speed and action, Erik shifts his weight and works to keep lines from etching in deep between his brows.
Cains cigar makes Darra reach for a cigarette, but she stops herself, instead starting to jerk various rings off her hands rather vigorously to put away in some coat pocket. At the sudden jump in the mens speed, she starts slightly, staring with undisguised interest.
Talk about disconcerting. As the world outside, begins to slow, Pyro gives a look toward Ewen. "Bloody...well, here's hoping this works." The lighter is flicked open, and a scowl turns to relief as the fire jumps to his command. It's flung out toward the wall, enveloping the lower half, and his face tightens as he concentrates on increasing the heat.
Ellen watches antsily, scrubbing her hands against each other.
As they work, Masia concentrates, slowing and speeding their time in relation to the time bubble that encases the section where Pyro's flames kiss. It is not a precise science, and the effort of maintaining two distinct time flows drains the young woman quickly. In normal time, it is three, maybe five minutes before the trembling becomes pronounced.
"Once they're done, I can boost up the best climbers," Cain suggests. "Then they can help everyone else up from the top."
Ewen is not nearly so heatproof as Pyro, and as the mass of flames grows he first rolls up his sleeves, then takes his jacket off altogether, using it to mop at the sheen of sweat on his brow that forms and glistens thanks to the fire. Boredom sets in for the ginger man long before the steel has become malleable enough to blast, but eventually he raises his hands in front of him, both trembling as much as Masia's bubble, and fires a pair of shockwaves at the wall that are invisible until they distort the flames and impact against the metal.
Pyro continues to blast out the heat, beads of sweat forming as it gets more difficult, and the control starts to slip. "Keep punching at it," he calls out. "Gonna have to turn this off real quick, before it--" And the fire vanishes. "Better be enough," he says, peering at the wall.
Jaw clenched, Erik is keeping a close eye on Masia, now, attention drawn by the trembling. He does not, however, tell her to stop.
Willing the charge in his hands to replenish itself as quickly as possible, Ewen rolls up his sleeves and turns his arms sideways to blast thin planes of force at the wall lower down, not strong enough to create solid footholds but sufficient to provide a little grip to propel a climber up to the higher, more useful holes. With his charge returned, he aims carefully at the same points once again and fires off another set of shockwaves, shooting into still soft metal.
Masia sinks to her knees in the cold dirt and the bubbles collapse on their own, depositing Ewen and Pyro back into the slower timeflow with a dizzy jerk, rather like a merry-go-round gone wild that has flung them free. Behind them, the wall shows the results of their work.
"You have six minutes," says Erik after a wary pause, eyes flickering from the fallen Masia to take in Ewen and Pyro.
"Ellen," Mystique suggests quietly, gaze fixed on Masia after that exertion without bothering to look to the wall.
Cain strides over to the wall, getting ready to heft people up to the top. "Let's get a move on people," he mutters.
Ewen is just fine, if a little ripe to delicate olfactory senses, the expenditure of his powers having been minimal -- boredom has taken a heavier toll on him. He looks quickly aside to Pyro, offering a hand out in case he needs support, and calling across, "We're going to need you to cool it down as well, Masia."
"Anything I do will be stopgap," Ellen says, dropping to a knee at Masia's side as she glances up at the wall beside her. "I believe she has exhausted herself, metabolically speaking."
A slight bit of a grin plays across Darras face, she doesnt say it, but shes impressed. Her expression gives away that much. Her gaze flickers over the others, then to Cain. "Eh, might as well go first." She closes the distance, eyeing the footholds now in place.
"Do what you can," Erik directs to Ellen, jaw still working as he glances between both women. "She will be cared for more effectively once the task is complete."
Masia exhales a steadying breath and sits back on her heels, hands folding together between her knees to control the aneerobic muscle spasms. "I'm fine. Fine," she whispers quietly to Ellen and rests for a few more seconds. "Been a long time since I tried to hold two of them for very long." She carefully unfolds and rises, none too steady.
Pyro approaches the wall, standing to one side. "Go for it," he says to Darra. "I've got your back," he adds, palms extended to provide backup support.
"Perhaps more exercise of your mutation is in order," Ellen says quietly, eyes flickering shut as she runs a cursory scan of Masia's systems, her hand's touch on the younger woman's face. "Your system is not accustomed to this sort of punishment."
Giving Darra a leg up, which takes her half way up the wall, Cain spits the cigar to one side. "Lectures /after/ we're done," he snaps. He waits a few seconds, then motions for someone else to come for a boost.
Pyro might as well be next. He gives Cain a nod, scrambling up the footholds, and hefting himself up the rest of the way, where he waits at the top to give an arm to the next to come over.
Masia stills to submit to the scan, some of the outward signs of distress fading simply with the cessation of activity. "Probably. Not always been real easy to practice with though, you know?" Once Ellen has finished doing whatever cellular manipulation possible, she steps back and aims for Cain.
Darra, having scrambled rather ungracefully up moments before Pyro, gives him a slight nod before leaning slightly over the wall to watch for whoevers next to join them.
Magneto is half-smiling to himself less subtly, now. It is difficult to tell whether the lines creased in around it are proud or self-satisfied. Perhaps they are both. Regardless, he looks down only to glance at his watch when he remembers to, and then his chin is up again. Attentive.
Ellen acknowledges with a nod and some silence, and follows Masia to Cain's side.
It is Ewen who reaches Cain next, though, from his place near Pyro, and he steps forward, the better to aid others from the top of the wall. "So," he asks cheerfully, waiting for a boost from the large man, "Everyone good at doing the 'rolling when you land' thing?"
Cain heaves Ewen upwards with a slight grunt of effort, barely straining to lift even his bulk skywards.
Using mainly his own strength rather than risking overbalancing the pair waiting at the top, Ewen manages get himself to the top, grabbing the head of the wall and dragging himself over with whatever assistance the pair care to provide.
In no hurry to abandon his post at the wall's base just yet, Erik states nonetheless: "I will bring a ladder, if you are afraid."
Masia is next! Masia is slow. She is, also, lighter and easier to lift. "That would have been more helpful 15 minutes or so ago," she spares breath to say as she strains for foot and handholds above the middle of the wall to put herself within reach of those at the top.
Pyro grasps Masia by the forearm, waiting for Ewen to take the other, then giving a nod to pull her up, and help her over the top.
Once Masia is up, Ellen brings up the rear, last to go before the caboose.
Ewen joins Pyro in lifting Masia, grabbing her free arm and shifting his grip to grab her under the shoulder as soon as she's lifted high enough, helping her over with slightly more dignity than being yoinked up by her arms would offer. "You good?" he asks.
She appreciates the dignity. Masia scrambles over the top and rolls to the far edge to peer over. "Yeah, I got it. Down we go?"
With the others helping Masia, Darra in turn leans somewhat over the wall to extends a hand to Ellen to help her up and over, with a quick glance over her shoulder. Shed forgotten they still had to get back /down/.
Cain takes a few steps back from the wall, then with a run up he charges the wall. Using one of the hand-holds to spring up from the Juggernaut hauls himself up the wall with surprising speed. However the big man doesn't pause at the top, as he clears the top he continues up and jumps over the edge - dropping like a rock to the other side.
When the last is up and very much over, Erik exhales, glances at his watch, and informs, "With twenty one seconds to spare," ignorign the fact he actually has no idea when he lifts his head again to squint up at them. "All of you performed very well. Better than I had hoped, really." The last added as a mildly unflattering afterthought, he lifts his brows a twitch before continuing. "Within the next week, we will all be facing more challenges of this nature. Your leadership," he glances to Mystique, still wounded,"included. Consider it a character building experience. For now, however, there are steaks in the kitchen. And," his eyes fall upon the place that Cain vanished over the wall before they drift back to the others, "there is alcohol. Enjoy the rest of your evening."
Mystique meets Erik's gaze briefly, brows climbing at his glance before she turns to being the walk back to the compound proper, where it is warm.
=BH= Mystique's Quarters - Refinery Lv 2 - Abandoned Mining Facility
Mystique sits at the large metal desk in her room, working silently at her computer. Her bedside lamp fills the room with a warm, if dim, glow, and Styx is currently engaged in chasing a ball to and fro on the floor. Her door is not opened, but it is cracked enough to invite interuption
A solid, rapidfire series of knocks sounds on the door, then it is pushed further open enough to allow Pyro to step into the doorframe. "Hey. You good to talk for a bit?" he asks, waiting for confirmation before moving inside.
Mystique's head turns first, gaze fixing on the boy through the slit of her door before she spins neatly in her chair. "Come in, Pyro."
Pyro takes a step inside, shutting the door firmly behind him, then crossing the room. He's dressed in jeans and tee, his uniform draped over his arm. Uncertainty, perhaps, but there's no hesitation in his voice as he states, "I have some questions for you."
Mystique's gaze remains level as she notes the uniform, and then it rises to fix firmly on his face. "Then ask."
Questions or no, Pyro has a tale to weave first. He sidesteps first, settling onto the end of the bed to face her. "/He/ was the one that convinced me," he starts. "Convinced me something could be done. Convinced me that /we/ were the ones to do it. I wanted to believe him."
Mystique remains silent, eyes even and unwavering in a complete lack of expression.
"I did believe him. Do, I mean," Pyro corrects himself, setting the uniform beside him on the bed. "But even though we could be changing things, we just sit around. No explanations, just wait. I thought we were finally getting somewhere in New York, then we're all called back here. To climb a wall. Then he leaves." There's a brief pause, then he adds, "I know we're not always going to be jumping in and blowing things up, but if we're going to do this...well, it's like he only trusted you or him to be the ones to get stuff done, and the rest of us were just sitting around for whenever he needed some extra muscle."
"Is there a question in there someone, Pyro?" Mystique wonders mildly.
"Am I going to sit around here?" Pyro leans back, weight propped up against one extended arm. "Or are we really going to try to change the world? All of us, I mean. I didn't leave one 'Leave it to the more experienced people' prison just to jump into another."
"We are going to change the world," Mystique answers simply. "You heard my response to Cain. It has not changed. We fight battles with a purpose, and they will not always involve blowing things up. They may never involve blowing things up. And there will be a good deal of time spent preparing." Her eyes narrow slightly. "Sitting around here, as you so eloquently put it. This is something you need to be prepared to accept."
"Why?" There's a cautious edge of defiance in the word. "If we had a thousand people, maybe we could afford to bring people in, send a few out. We don't. There's so many things we could be doing that we're not because we're always here 'preparing.'"
"Such as?" Mystique wonders simply.
"You're not the only one that needs to work the political side," Pyro says, purposely jumping to the first non-violent idea that comes to mind. "Hell, Ellen could give any /one/ of us a new face and send us to Washington to do some pushing down there. If it's not all about the big things like when we assassinated the president, then why does it seem like all we do is prepare for those big things?"
"You wish to go to Washington? What will you do there?"
"Me?" Pyro blinks, having the idea tossed back at him catching him off guard. "No, not me, specifically. That's not my thing. But maybe someone's. It's the point, though, that I think we want to be doing the other stuff too."
"Then I am waiting to hear a useful suggestion."
"For me?" That's not a tough question for Pyro. "I like the scare factor. Think I'm pretty good at it. Just what I'd been doing--showing people they can't get away with discrimination against mutants."
"The scare factor does not limit itself to those who wish to persecute mutants," Mystique points out levely.
"Then give me some direction. What I could be doing better," Pyro counters, frowning. "But let me do stuff, not just wait for the next big event."
"If you wish constant action, you should not stay. You will not be satisfied." Mystique's voice grows quietly tight, her gaze accusitory.
"I'm not saying I need to do something every day," Pyro glares at the floor between them. "Just that I want to see a difference sometime before I die."
"Do you know how long I have been fighting this war?"
"Kinda. But not all of us will live as long as you."
"That is irrelevant."
"Maybe to you," Pyro looks up at her. "But not to everyone. Unless you really don't believe we can make enough of a difference."
"How long you live is irrelevant to whether you will make a difference. You could fall down a mineshaft tomorrow and die," Mystique points out smoothly. "You either believe that what you are doing will count, or you do not. "
"I believe it counts," Pyro says after a moment, rue to concede the point. "I just don't think we're doing enough. Fast enough. To actually see any change."
"And I am still waiting to hear a useful suggestion."
"Move back to New York. Let us work our way in. Knock off the anti-mutant people. Help out mutants that need it."
"Now stop to think about the difficulties with that plan."
"Like what? It was working before," Pyro shrugs, naivety showing through.
"Like the fact that all but perhaps three of our members are on federal most wanted lists and every time you enter the city, you put yourself and the rest of the Brotherhood at great risk. Like the fact that it requires money to maintain. Or consider the fact that every time you knock off an anti-mutant activist in a rage of fire, you create three more."
"Three more?" Pyro sniffs, disbelieving. "Then we take them out too. At least it's moving forward, instead of waiting for them to find us and lock us up, whether or not we've done something 'illegal.'"
Mystique's expression edges disdainful. "Then go, Pyro. Kill and maim because it satisfies your short-term bloodlust. I will be here fighting a fight that will make a difference."
"/How?/" Pyro asks, not making any motion to move just yet. "Because /they/ said exactly the same thing. Every. Bloody. Day. What difference have we made?"
"I am consistently amazed at the brevity of your memory. Tell me. What /have/ we done?"
"We killed the president," Pyro states. "And then we went back into hiding instead of using that to our advantage."
"Think back further."
"The blackout. And again, we disappeared."
"I will not say that there have not been lost opportunities." Mystique's gaze narrows. "But you speak like a fool, rash and uninterseted in anything but your own satisfaction. There have been moments when we could have pressed further. There have also been moments when we have pressed too far. But we have not been idle, and if you find that it makes you happier to whine like a spoiled child about the fun you are not having and the satisifaction you are not getting than to study and learn, than to find useful, practical applications for our power, then I do not want you here. We are having this conversation, here, now, because you have a week. After this week, if you remain, we will not have it again."
Pyro glowers, the retort on his lips taking all his restraint to keep from popping off. A moment later, his response is calmer. "I have done those things. I can wait. I can train. I can be ready. I just don't want to be left in the dark."
"You either trust your leadership, or you do not. Make your choice before Saturday, because once it's made, I will not stand for this." Mystique's chin lifts just slightly. "Those who have the most information are and always have been those who benefit the Brotherhood by knowing. You have just proven yourself to be exactly the opposite."
Pyro mouth hardens, a moment before he breaks the gaze and looks away. He gathers up the uniform, taking longer than needed to drape it over an arm before he stands. "That's all I wanted to ask."
Mystique is silent in reply.
"By Saturday, then," he says, giving a tight nod before leaving the room. The door is left open.