LORNA DANE (PRIME)

A chill hit him as she inched towards him. If he could feel his cheeks right now he'd feel the blood rush to him. He was excited or nervous. He didn't quite know why. Was it the thrill of the story? That made him feel alive most days when the world felt bleak. Could it be the danger? No it was more positive than that. If he were too take a second to truly be honest with himself, he'd realize he was having a middle school moment and was just excited to have this pretty girl approaching him. Her emerald hair drifting in the wind. To have those viridescent eyes set on him. It was all exciting. Sadly, Ben wouldn't accept that.

For the past few years he'd put relationships on the backburner. He considered himself married to the job. He'd worry about it when he was older. He's still in his 20's he needed to be a free agent and do the dangerous journalism, make a real impact. Not fantasize about building a life with someone. He needed to help build a future for those in need and serve as their voice and loud speaker. It's not that he didn't like the idea of being someone's person, but he felt he didn't deserve that till he achieved his purpose. Until he helped all the people he could. If he couldn't be proud of himself yet he didn't think another could.

He found himself drifting in her direction in the silence but took a step back at her statement. His eyebrows raised and his heart jumped in panic for but a moment. A cross between panic and and offense smeared his face before composing himself. "I'm sorry. You think I'm a mutant fetishist?" He replied as calm as he could but tone full of disbelief. "You just met me and you're already jumping to these weird ass conclusions? Not that finding a mutant attractive to would be weird, it's just weird to assume that."

Had she struck a nerve? That was Lorna: always ruining a nice thing. It's why she had never had any. She was destined to smash it up. Her mother, a chance at a childhood. All gone. All her fault. Still, she didn't want the conversation to end. They could turn it around.

"You have pretty thin skin for someone sitting out in the cold." Lorna remarked, her tone losing a sliver of the edge. "I have to ask, you know. You never know the intentions of random junkyard dwellers." A pause then, a small smile growing on her lips. "Into my mutant genes? Easy there. These are actually premium genes. We're talking cream of the crop here."

Wasn't that what being Magneto's daughter was supposed to mean? The best of the best? If he ever cracked and started his own nation, she'd be the princess to his king. Still, it wasn't anything Lorna wanted. She would've traded the family name in a heartbeat if it meant a millisecond of normalcy. She would have preferred a father over Magneto, but that was a story for another time.

"Unfortunately for us both, yes." It wasn't that Lorna didn't like Jono — she surprisingly did. He was one of the most tolerable Brotherhood members. He was, on occasion, even someone she enjoyed hanging out. Anyone was better than Toad. As he commented on John Mayer, Lorna couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Really? I'd expect more edgy from you than some white boy who literally dated Taylor Swift." Not that Lorna would ever admit to listening to Taylor Swift.

She didn't respond when Jono asked if he was being forced to do this, instead just gesturing to the table to show him that the floor was his. The enthusiasm that followed was unexpected. Lorna tilted her chair back, the two metal front legs stabled by her magnetism as one brow arched.

Quentin laughed quietly to himself, glancing at the person to his right. He usually tried to avoid peoples random day to day thoughts--more so to spare his own sanity than their virtue--but sometimes a thought may as well be shouted across the room.

"I will not allow my people to suffer the same indignities and atrocities here as we were once forced to survive. This is no threat, no speech of grandstanding, but a promise."

"Oh plenty. I'm a man of mysteries." Ben responded with an amused smirk as he took a sip of borderline cold coffee. He didn't see himself as the most interesting or secretive person either. While not exactly an open book, he wasn't the most private person. However, he needed to keep the conversation going. He needed to make sure Lorna wanted to talk to him. He needed this to be a healthy interview when they go there, and he needed her to be happy and willing to talk with him. Dammit Ben, you sound like a manipulative asshole.

His face didn't reflect his inner turmoil however. What he was trying to accomplish was set to do a lot of good for both human and mutant kind. The ends justified the means. They had to.

Her silence intrigued and concerned him. It was too dark to get a good read on her. Her body language was stiff but that could have been from the cold. Was she angry at him? Did he say something wrong? Was it inappropriate to make that comment on her mutation? Was it-? His worries came to a stop when she opened her mouth again. He had a half smile on his face for a moment that he swiftly hid behind a cigarette. He liked her attitude.

"I don't have the patience for mysteries." Lorna liked answers, and she liked them as soon as she could get them. Surprises, mysteries, and secrets weren't appealing to the girl whose entire identity had felt like a giant mystery. She had an unfortunate history of being reactive when she should have stopped to think things through. Even now, the image of her aunt's disappointed face was burned into the back of Lorna's eyes.

The ease of their conversation drew her a few steps closer so she could try to see him better. While she meant to keep her guard up, Lorna didn't always realize just how the years had twisted her. She had the fangs needed to protect herself, but she still moved slowly and cautiously like a spooked animal. It was protection. Self-defense. That's what she always told herself, at least.

Now, they were close enough that Lorna could make out more distinguishing features. He looked...normal. Or, at least, as normal as a man sitting alone in an auto yard alone at night could. Dark hair, a lanky frame, cheeks tinged red from the chill. Lorna knew she likely wasn't fairing much better. Her nose was running from the cold, and she quickly wiped at with her sleeve in embarrassment.

At his question, she nodded. "Of course. I'm more than a human flashlight. That'd be someone like Jubilee. She's the X-Men's human firework." All the bright lights were a little much for Lorna. His reply led to an arched brow. "A pretentious drop out? I only graduated high school because my aunt was all over me." Lorna hadn't wanted to be there. There was too much metal that rattled when she walked past. The other students had made fun of her cheaply dyed hair and awkwardness. It had felt like prison. After being arrested a few times, that still felt true. It was just lacking inhibitor collars.

You're not just all pretty lights.

"Make me sound pretentious? Well wouldn't want people to learn that right away, would we?" He replied wryly. She had spunk. This made his job all the more entertaining. This way he wouldn't have to force the conversation as much, he worked well with people like her.

A pang of guilt struck his gut as the green auroras faded into the night. It was beautiful while it lasted and his glance stole them from the world. With the green glow gone it was harder to watch her body language, harder to read her. That was a talent of Ben's. He could practically tell what his subjects were thinking during and interview just by watching them. People thought that you just had to be fancy with your words to make it as a journalist, but it took so much more. You needed to read your subjects. Know how each question made them react, if their phrasing revealed any potential hidden emotions or agendas, and you had to know just how far to push to get your answers. He'd be a good therapist if he only liked people.

This time, she didn't let herself laugh. Lorna caught the chuckle in her throat and quickly repurposed it into something that sounded like the bastard child of a scoff and a snort. She didn't often let her guard down enough to express humor — especially in front of a human. Well, an assumed human. It had been her first thought when they had stumbled upon one another, and while she had yet to confirm it, Lorna remained wary.

"So, you're hiding your pretentiousness. Is there anything else you're hiding?"

There was a level of privilege that came alone with her position. Lorna knew she wasn't the strongest mutant. She didn't need to be. Anyone who laid hands on her — human or mutant alike — would face the wrath of Magneto. She had convinced herself at this point it wasn't because he loved her. No. It had to be an ego or pride thing. Nonetheless, Lorna felt the buffer of her father's righteous anger.

He thought her lights were pretty. They weren't exactly lights (that was reductive) but they did create a glow. That wasn't the part of the statement that had caught Lorna by surprise. It was the fact that they were pretty. For most of her life, her magnetism had been something to hide. To resent. Later, with the Brotherhood, it was something to use. No one had ever called it pretty before.

There she was. Polaris. Officer of the Brotherhood of Mutants and Daughter of Magneto. He knew she'd be here but not yet, not now. He came here just for her but he was shocked all the same at the sight of her. Her emerald hair billowing in the wind, the aurora's encompassing her hands. He thought he'd be scared by it or at least intimidated, but it was beautiful. The raw powers of nature that she controlled, it was hard to pull his eyes from her hands.

"Or it's the perfect time. Warms the cockles. Whatever the hell those are." He responded as he flicked his eyes up to meet hers, taking in another hot and soothing drag.

His thoughts churned like a sea at storm, his heart raise, and stomach fluttered with excitement. Here it was. His chance. His time to get a real hard hitting story again. Write something that can make a difference, make people believe in humanity. Stop it Urich. He was getting ahead of himself. There were still plenty of chances for him to screw this up or get murdered for saying the wrong thing.

"What the hell is a cockle?" It caught her off guard. The question slipped out on its own accord, a chuckle almost accompanying the words. She actually did laugh as he finished his sentence, her head shaking. "Maybe don't use a word like cockle if you don't even know what it means. Makes you sound pretentious."

Not that she cared. He was a stranger, a potential threat. He was nothing and she needed to remain on edge. As his eyes flickered towards her glowing fists, a wave of self-consciousness washed over her. Growing up, her powers were meant to be repressed. Held in. She didn't want to be seen with them. Back then, she had wanted to fit in. Now, Lorna let the light die from her fists. She needed to conserve her energy to be safe. She took a step closer, eyes squinting to try to see in the semi-darkness.