and all that nearness turned to stone...

[Laurie Collins]

It had happened so quickly that Laurie hadn’t even had time to blink. After the chaos and panic of the fight they’d been grouped together-she and Miss. Munroe, and Bob, and the wolf-girl- and herded towards transport vehicles and then in a practiced, smooth motions had been separated. No time to panic or struggle or even, had they been so strangely inclined under the circumstances, to wave goodbye. Even Laurie hadn’t been able to help but notice that the robots- Sentinals she’d heard them called- and the humans who had come towards the end of the fight to help with the transportation had done this before, separated prisoners in such a way to minimize the risk of scenes and struggles.

Now she’s sitting in this cell, a dense construction of some glass-smooth metal with a window high in the door, too high for her to look out of from where she’s huddled into the back corner, making herself as small as possible. She’s vaguely scared and vaguely worried but nowhere near as much as she should be. Everyone she cares about is either missing, captured, or back at the Institute under attack and she herself is locked in here, alone for now, but the guards had said something about “analysis” and the way they’d looked when they’d said it tells her it isn’t something to look forward to. Yet the strongest emotion she can manage after the past few hours, the past few days, is a sort of wonder that just under four hours ago she was sitting next to Matthew on the piano bench in the music room, alternately doing her Literature reading and playfully humming off key to try to distract him from his tune. It never works, she thinks idly, he could keep a rhythm through World War III and as the cell door opens again she doesn’t even raise her head, just closes her eyes and tries to imagine herself back there, tiny vibrations shuddering up and down her frame in a steady beat.

[Rahne Sinclair]

(( ooc: for those following along at home, this picks up a while after the entry thread; laurie and rahne were both captured by sentinels and imprisoned. ))

Rahne says nothing to the guards who “process” her, does not respond to their taunting or their insults or their threats or their leers. She just makes note of their faces and their voices. It would be better if she could mark their scents, but she can’t.

She’s accustomed to this: she did it for years while in Reverend Craig’s care, until the Beast came to balance those scales. And it was more difficult then – she was young, and she did not know her destiny. Now she does, and armored with that knowledge she can withstand anything.

Still, it is more difficult without the Beast. She is not certain how it was banished… the man-shaped machines spewed out a noxious gas, and all at once she was simply Rahne again, weak and half-deaf and blind to scent, her bare knees scraping against the stones until they came to collect her. No doubt Primer would have an explanation, involving mutations and cells and genetics, but he is not here to ask.

No matter. She does not need an explanation to know the task ahead of her. Whether furred and clawed or in her frailer human form she remains the Lord’s Hunter, and she has faith that those she is meant to take will reveal themselves to her as they always have. Admittedly, she is ill-equipped at present to render the Lord’s judgment on them, but when the time comes, weapons shall be provided – of this she is sure.

Finally, their humiliating processing is complete, and she is led into a small cell with a familiar-looking occupant. "Yer the lass who protected the ice man, aye? The daughter?" Primer had not specified who they were rescuing, but it had taken no more than a single scent of that woman, and the girl he had warned them not to injure, to make the relationship obvious. "I had nae expected t’share a cell w’ye."

[Laurie Collins]

"Yer the lass who protected the ice man, aye? The daughter?"

Laurie looks up slowly, blinking rapidly and squinting a bit as if the first not-unkind voice she's heard is a shaft of light on eyes accustomed to darkness. "I...yes." she says softly, sliding her knees from a hunched position, gathered to her chest, to lie extended flat in front of her. "Laurie. That's, um, that's my name." she adds. "You're...were...the wolf?" She's looking Rahne over with a good deal more curiosity and a good deal less wariness than she normally would considering that this is one of her father's underlings, the wolf who had attacked her friend. At the moment, though, she's only another prisoner, not too much older than herself and she looks weary and scarred but collected and much kinder than any of the guards who she hasn't had much to do with yet but already knows to be wary of.

After the day she's had Laurie's rather inclined to respond to any non-hostility she receives no matter what it's guise. That's why, when Rahne expresses her surprise at a cell-mate, Laurie gives her a small but genuine smile and answers, "It's good though. Better than being alone." When almost any other reaction would have been expected from someone affiliated however loosely with the Institute upon meeting Rahne.

[Rahne Sinclair]

(( OOC: I’m gonna start phasing out Rahne’s dialect-transcription, because I can’t do it well for any significant dialog, and because it’s annoying. But the accent is still there. ))

> " I...yes. Laurie. That's, um, that's my name. You're...were...the wolf? "

"Aye, I was. Those machine-things sent it away, though." She looks the girl over, sniffing out of habit and scowling at the meager information provided, then sits on the floor next to her. "Rahne*," she says, then adds helpfully "My name, that is. Rahne Sinclair." She’s noticed that Americans tend to think she’s talking about the weather when she introduces herself.

> "It’s good though. Better than being alone. "

Rahne considers that for a few seconds, then nods. "Aye. "

The silence stretches from companionable to awkward to punishing, and she finally adds "I was alone for a long time. Before meeting your father an’ his people."

* -- pronounced just like “rain”, especially with her accent.

[Laurie Collins]

"Aye, I was. Those machine-things sent it away, though."

Laurie cocks her head slightly at the odd phrasing, her by now hysterical humor conjuring a picture of the Sentinals smacking a wolf with a rolled up newspaper until it runs away leaving only the rather diminutive red haired girl as it dashes off amongst the ruins. "My pheromones are gone too." she responds softly, biting her lip. She hasn't even really begun to think about that yet. Anyone with the technology to build giant robots might be able to develop a permanent cure and then if she ever got out of here she'd be normal again, would never have to worry about emitting or the ethics of mutation or anything like that. But her chances of getting out of here in the first place seem slim without her pheromones...

She nods as Rahne introduces herself and then settles into the silence, having endured enough of those long stretches without conversation in her short but extremely awkward life to be used to them. When Rahne breaks the long quiet with- "I was alone for a long time. Before meeting your father an’ his people." Laurie starts a little and bites her lip, unsure of how to respond. It's a surreal situation, even aside from the giant killer robots, being here with the wolf she'd seen attacking Bob, almost killing him, and working under her father besides, and having her instinctual response be to turn eagerly towards her simply because Rahne wasn't actively engaged in hurting her. So while her first impulse is to snap something derogatory about her father, to quickly disassociate herself with him, the desire to have a connection to the only approachable person around and genuine curiosity about Rahne win out and she merely asks "How did you meet him...them?" her usual soft voice positively whispery now.

[Rahne Sinclair]

The girl isn’t comfortable with her; Rahne can sense that much even without the Beast. Not surprising, if she and her father are enemies, but Rahne doesn’t like it. There’s nothing wrong with this girl that she can tell; she seems likable enough. Why should they be enemies?

> " How did you meet him...them? "

"I was taken by hunters near my old home, in the Highlands. They sold me to some men here, in America… scientists. " The unfamiliar word stumbles on her tongue, but she has learned some things in the months since her arrival. " They caged me, filled me full of drugs. I slept. I woke." Her voice is cold and angry as she remembers those days.

"They thought me still asleep, opened the cage. Foolish. I killed them and escaped." She says this without a flinch or a trace of guilt in her voice.
"He found me, after. Offered food and shelter." She shrugs, vaguely feeling like there should be more to say, but there isn’t. She’d agreed to the offer, is all there is to say about that.

"And the others… the Brotherhood… well, ‘tis the only family we have."

[Bobby Drake]

(( OOC: Timeline is handwavey, but this is after Disenchanted and before Bob talks to Warren. ))

Drake activates his communicator with an angry poke of his thumb when it goes off. "Yes, what is it?" He listens for a while to the account of new mutant prisoners, then cuts his assistant off "Wait, stop. That’s got to be a database error, Sinclair is already in custody, has been for years… what? two of them? That can’t be – ok, fine, just hold them, I’ll be there in a second. "

He’s about half-way to the holding cells when the priority signal rings again. "Yes, I’m on my way, what -- WHAT?" He almost drops the phone at the news that a recently arrested mutant identifies himself as “Bobby Drake” and has cryogenic abilities. "OK, hold onto them, put security on high alert. Initiate a complex-wide room-check and make sure everyone’s where they belong – and nobody’s in more than one place. High-fidelity scan on all shapeshifters and illusionists, especially Sinclair. I’ll be in holding cell thirteen; hold all calls until I’m done"

By the time he gets to the cell, his mind is whirling in circles. He wants to head directly to the shielded cells to check out this so-called “Bobby Drake,” but two cases of identity confusion in as many hours can’t be a coincidence, and he decides to check out the Sinclair case first and find out as much as he can before interrogating “Drake Jr.”

So by the time the cell doors open for him, he’s not at all surprised to see Rahne there. She’s a lot younger than he remembers, granted, but for a shapeshifter that’s not as surprising as it could be. What throws him for a loop is the girl who was taken with her, who nobody bothered to warn him about. No reason they should have, really… her genetic sequence isn’t on file.

"Laurie? Laurie Collins?" He feels stupid after saying it; clearly it can’t be her… this girl is a teenager. But the resemblance is amazing -- she looks just like Laurie did in high school. "No, of course not. What are you, her daughter?"

In the back of his mind, a little warning light goes off. A young “Robert Drake”… a younger-looking Rahne… and this girl? Something freaky is going on here.

[Laurie Collins]

Laurie's hardly had time to process Rahne's response, to deal with her feelings about dually victim and killer her cellmate is, before the door is thrown open and she's scrambling back against the wall as if it will hide her. They're back to take me for analysis she's thinking fearfully, because though she has no idea what that entails it definitely can't be good. But...who is that? There's something...

"Laurie? Laurie Collins?"

"Y-yes?" she stammers, puzzled suddenly, as this strangely familiar man stops short and looks at her like she's some sort of ghost.

"No, of course not. What are you, her daughter?"

"I...what? No, I'm...me!" she blurts out a bit lamely, suddenly looking like she's going to cry. Everything is going crazy all around her, teleportation and killer robots and prison and being cured, this man denying her identity is the last straw and she's suddenly, frantically, desperate to have it confirmed that she's still herself. "My mom's name is Gail." she adds, latching on to the 'daughter' thing, and then looking horrified and scrambling to her feet, "But she isn't a mutant! So don't-" she stops suddenly as she catches sight of the name emblazoned onto his uniform- "Drake?" she mutters out loud, hands rising a bit and then falling in one of her customary, abortive, nervous gestures. "What is this?" she whispers, completely lost now, looking up at the man she's realized looks just like Bob with a couple decades added. Her face holds an echo of the expectant trust she has in the Robert Drake closer to her own age to have the answers, because there isn't anywhere else to look right now, because she's so desperate to get an answer she'd give that look to a three headed monster at this point.

[Bobby Drake]

> " My mom's name is Gail. But she isn't a mutant! So don't- Drake? What is this? "

It’s the expression on Laurie’s face, the same desperate wounded trust he remembers from the old days, before his life fell apart, that makes Drake believe her… that, and the way this Laurie talks about her mother so protectively, in the present tense, as if she was still alive. Rejuvenated, somehow? With amnesia? That would explain the younger-looking Rahne, as well.

If so, Drake doesn’t want to be the one to fill her in on what she’s forgotten… not to mention whatever she’s been up to since she went underground that he himself doesn’t know about. And it doesn’t really matter that much, does it? Amnesiac or not, she really is a mutant criminal – not just the way some of these guys are, because the new laws make being a mutant practically a criminal offense on its own, but because she’s been using her powers to commit crimes. Yeah, and since when is making people happy such a bad thing? Her pheromones aren’t harmful, aren’t addictive, and she uses them consensually… what’s the problem?

But of course his superiors wouldn’t see it that way… and, to be fair, there’s no way to be sure it really is consensual. That’s the most disturbing thing about her power, and her father’s. And yes, part of that is that Drake still carries a grudge about the way Garrison manipulated him, half a lifetime ago, but it’s true just the same. She’s not one of the ones he intends to let loose.

And as for Rahne, well… that just goes without saying. The redhead has her back against a wall, glaring at him silently as if wondering if he’d be good to eat… which, given her capabilities, she might very well be doing.

All of which is relatively clear on his face as he replies. "”This” is the Northeast Mutant Containment Facility, where you’ve been brought for evaluation and containment. Which you ought to know, unless something has been affecting your memories. What were you doing visiting the Institute ruins? That’s a restricted area."

[Laurie Collins]

Laurie, after her initial straightening into a defensive posture as she'd attempted to protect her mother, shrinks back at the look this man with her friend's name gives her so coldly analytical, as if she's a puzzle. The disturbing thing, or one of them at any rate, is that she's seen Bob make almost the same thoughtful face, but that could never have been called cold because he hadn't made it considering people. Then that puzzling-look seems positively friendly as he shutters his expression away, shutting her out as if he's weighed her up and decided her fate, and speaks in a voice that seems to her as cold as his expression.

"”This” is the Northeast Mutant Containment Facility, where you’ve been brought for evaluation and containment. Which you ought to know, unless something has been affecting your memories. What were you doing visiting the Institute ruins? That’s a restricted area."

She gapes at him for a moment, unsure of what to respond to first, if she can even bring herself to respond at all. "Look, please, I don't know what you're talking about." she manages after a moment, "I was in Ma-...my friend's room at the Institute and an alarm went off. Primer- Sean Garrison- was coming after my mom and there was a fight and then the next thing I know I'm in a pile of rubble with Bob and Miss. Munroe and the others and then I got taken here and we didn't do anything." she finishes, obviously nearly hysterical until another thought jumps into her mind to distract her and she seizes upon it desperately. "Oh,um, we had Bob, um Robert, Drake with us when we were taken here and you have to be related to him don't you? I mean you look just like him and you have the same last name and I know he doesn't talk to his family but he got hurt a few days ago in a Brotherhood attack and if they cure him he'll... well he's your family right? You can at least get him out of here, to get treatment?" And when he gets out he can tell the others what's going on and they'll fix this. This has to be some mistake, something like the Neverland Camps, but we haven't done anything wrong. They'll have to let us go once everything's explained, she thinks as punctuation for that breathlessly nervous babble before sinking back against the wall and hunching herself defensively, obviously having used up what courage she had left on that quick jab at speech.

[Bobby Drake]

Drake listens to Laurie’s recitation with a growing sense of bewilderment, although years of practice with interrogations keeps it from showing on his face. Her version of events makes no sense at all, so much so that he’s fairly sure she’s not lying so much as deranged in some way. But pieces of it float around in his mind, trying to connect into a coherent story.

> " I was in Ma-...my friend's room at the Institute… the next thing I know I'm in a pile of rubble… "

So… all right. That means she’s not talking about the original Institute. Which means someone has set up a new Institute somewhere that SHIELD hasn’t found out about yet. Which is no huge surprise, really… they pop up fairly regularly. So, she got knocked out and taken to the original Institute site… or maybe teleported… just in time to get picked up by SHIELD.

> " Primer- Sean Garrison- was coming after my mom"

So, she is Primer’s daughter, which makes her Laurie’s half-sister, which explains the resemblance to a two-decades-younger Laurie. But she’d said her mother’s name was Gail… and both Gail Collins and her ex-husband – no, actually, Laurie’s parents had never gotten married, he remembers that – had been dead for over a decade.

Or, well… presumed dead, anyway. Could they have faked their deaths and run off somewhere, had another daughter, given her the same name? Gail would have been, what, in her late 40s by then? Something like that. Kinda crazy, but not impossible, and Primer was just the sort of twisted to do it. Maybe he’s trying to recreate his youth, get back at all the people who messed with him, like… Oh, dear God.

Drake’s mind skids off the tracks as he puts some pieces together, and his disgust at the theory he’s considering is extreme enough to show on his face. That would explain “young Rahne”, also… and the other “Bobby Drake”… and the Storm we supposedly have in custody with him... and… oh, fuck. What if he’s got a whole building of brainwashed stand-ins just like this girl stashed away somewhere?

It doesn’t take a lot of imagination to realize that if someone as twisted as Primer went through the effort of assembling a horde of dopplegangers like that, it would not be for innocent reasons… and Laurie Jr’s description of Primer as “coming after” Gail is consistent with that. Come to think of it… something like that really did happen, back in 07 or so, just after we found out who Primer really was.

> " we had Bob, um Robert, Drake with us [..]I know he doesn't talk to his family but he got hurt a few days ago in a Brotherhood attack"

And that earns a double-take, because Primer’s attempt to kidnap Gail from the Institute really had come a few days after Bobby had been hurt pretty badly by a Brotherhood attack… by, among other people, Rahne herself if he recalls correctly. He hadn’t had his ice-form very long at that point, and hadn’t really learned to rely on its reconstructive abilities. Jesus, the bastard really is trying to “replay” his life!!!

He gets himself back under control with an effort. Without a lot more evidence there’s no way his superiors will believe his theory… hell, he doesn’t really believe it himself. So he needs to find out more.

> " you have to be related to him don't you? I mean you look just like him and you have the same last name and I know he doesn't talk to his family but [..] he's your family right? You can at least get him out of here, to get treatment? "

"So, you’re a friend of Bob’s, huh? Well, that’s interesting." He’s not a good enough actor, even now, to keep his skepticism and outrage from bleeding into his voice, but he hopes it will come off as more general skepticism of her claim. "Supposing you tell me a little about him, and your other friends? "

[Laurie Collins]

"So, you’re a friend of Bob’s, huh? Well, that’s interesting. Supposing you tell me a little about him, and your other friends? "

Laurie flinches a little at the anger and skepticism in the man's tone, looking up at him for a moment uncertainly. He hadn't done anything really threatening yet, there were no iron maidens or racks behind him at any rate, but this obviously isn't a request no matter how it's phrased. Still, what if I tell him something that makes it worse? We haven't done anything wrong, and even if we were somewhere we weren't supposed to be trespassing is a minor crime...but Miss. Munroe and Bob are X-men and who knows what they've done that these people might consider a crime? She starts to look over at Rahne, but stops herself at the last moment, the other mutant seems to have no better idea of what's going on than she does and the idea of looking to her for guidance as to what's best for the Institute is beyond laughable.

Finally she settles for gnawing on her lower lip for a moment, wincing as her teeth cut through skin and raising a hand to press against the small cut for a moment before looking up at this 'Drake' again. "W-what do you want to know?" she asks, making an effort to look collected and prepared, but the fact that she's too scared to even look at his face now undermines the effect. "And if I answer your questions can I call my mom? I mean I get a phone call...right? That's how it works?" she asks hopefully, obviously basing her knowledge of prison procedure on a few too many episodes of Law&Order.

[Bobby Drake]

> " W-what do you want to know? And if I answer your questions can I call my mom? I mean I get a phone call...right? That's how it works? "

"Oh, you know… anything that comes to mind, really. I just want to know you and your friends better, is all. How long have you known, um, Bob? Are you close? What, um… what classes is he taking? Who are your teachers?" It’s more than a little absurd talking like this to a recently arrested mutant, about a hypothetical relative of his that he doesn’t have, and who certainly isn’t a student where she thinks she’s a student, but it seems the most efficient way of getting information out of her.

"Look, I realize this all must be pretty confusing for you… there’s a lot going on you don’t know about, I guess. Just relax, and tell me about what you’ve been up to before we picked you up… I’ll handle it from there."

The question about her mother he just lets go by without a response. After all, what can he say? If her mother isn’t dead, he certainly knows no way of getting in touch with her.

[Laurie Collins]

"Oh, you know… anything that comes to mind, really. I just want to know you and your friends better, is all. How long have you known, um, Bob? Are you close? What, um… what classes is he taking? Who are your teachers?"

Laurie frowns a bit at his instructions, puzzled. Bob’s class schedule? My teachers? What happened to the…secret codes? Or…or…jet fighters? I mean we actually have those! She’s barely gotten over her surprised consternation at that before Drake is off again, something about ‘this must be confusing’ and God this guy changes tracks as fast as some people go through tissues- surprised, disgusted, angry, and now vaguely reassuring, or at least trying to be. It’s like he’s as confused as me. That thought startles her so much she almost misses Drake telling to her ‘relax’ which for the moment drives away all fear and worry as she blinks dumbly at him, mouthing an echo of the word silently before letting her gaze sweep around the cell, smooth as glass and cold as steel, to her arms with their bruises shaped like grasping fingers, to his uniform. If she were a little less or a little more afraid she would laugh hysterically. As it is she just swallows then whispers, “Okay…” and clears her throat but doesn’t add anything, her mind running so blank she couldn‘t supply her own name if it were asked.

All she can think of now is some snippet of a poem. It’s been running through her head since she’s been in this cell and now, suddenly, it comes to her. “…so deep that I can see no ending/ and no horizon: all in nearness blending,/ and all that nearness turned to stone.” She does laugh then because maybe she is a bit hysterical after all, but she sobers quickly, giving Drake a nervous, contrite look as she realizes disregarding and probably unnerving the instructions of the person holding her in a cell might be a bad plan. “Um,” she adds hastily, “That’s, um, that’s sort of how I met Bob.” she connects, looking surprised at that rather smooth transition she’s managed. “I was reading Rilke poems in the chapel, down in the basement of the Institute, and I scared him while he was…” she pauses for a moment, she values emotional privacy too highly to talk too much about Bob’s state of mind at the time but she’s not sure how much omission she can get away with, after all she has no idea what Drake even wants from her. “He was upset,” she resumes after a moment, “but he was still nice to me even though I sort of pheromoned all over him and made him have some impromptu discussion about the…the ethics of mutation and Rilke while he was, um, upset. That was, um, about a year ago now I think. I don’t really know what classes he’s taking. Senior-ish stuff I guess? Power use? And I… I guess we’re close? He stuck around for some whole analogy about killing a goldfish while listening to Frank Sinatra while I tried to work out some way to make sure I wasn’t going to do anything terrible with my pheromones. It was his little hypothetical scenario to begin with, but, uh I guess you don’t stand around talking about that sort of oddness with someone you hate.” She runs out of steam there and stops to bite her lip again, wincing as her teeth encounter the cut from the last time she’d tried that. Drake hasn’t responded to any of her requests so far, not on Bob’s behalf or about calling her mom and she’s given up even trying, just leans against the wall and starts to look a more resigned shade of scared.

[Bobby Drake]

> " That’s sort of how I met Bob. I was reading Rilke poems in the chapel,"

Drake feels the room seem to drop away, and a cold numbness that has absolutely nothing to do with his mutation spreads through him, as Laurie tells the story.

He remembers that night vividly – he’d just been rescued from Magneto’s little dungeon, just been dosed by John, who’d just started pretending to date Rogue, and he hadn’t come to terms with any of it. He’d actually been praying, sorta. More like ranting. And Laurie had been there, and Kurt.

"Try to love the questions, rather than look for the answers. You need to live the question, and perhaps you will, some day, find yourself living the answers." He’s not talking to Laurie; he’s not even entirely aware of saying it out loud, and he knows he’s getting the quote wrong, but the sentiment has stuck with him ever since the Professor gave him “Letters to a Young Poet” to read.

He hasn’t thought about it in years… but it comes back to him powerfully. Twenty years ago he really had been living the questions, but if these are the answers… well, screw that. I might as well not have bothered.

And she’s still talking, about that, and the whole crazy Goldfish Killer conversation in the gym when he got his powers back, and it’s not possible, but his gut is telling him that this really is Laurie, except somehow Laurie from before she left the Institute.

She’d been one of the first to leave. He’d tried to talk her out of it, he remembers, though there’d never been a chance of succeeding. Hell, she’d walked out on Matthew to do it, and they’d been tight back then. Then she just disappeared. He’d heard rumors since, apparently she was some kind of high-powered mutant callgirl now.

But this is crazy, he tells himself, pulling himself back to the present. What’s the idea, that she’s been in some kind of suspended animation while someone else has pretended to be her all these years? And what about Sinclair? The redheaded woman has refused to answer any questions, just glaring at him as if prepared to bite his head off. She probably would, too, if it weren’t for the Cure.

The next hour or so is incredibly tedious for both of them, as he interrogates her on the details of events that took place twenty years ago, hoping to find some clue in the patterns of what she does and doesn’t know about them. By the end of it he’s emotionally exhausted, and hasn’t learned anything worth knowing – she knows exactly what the Laurie Collins of that era would know, no more and no less.

Finally, he decides to switch tactics. Ordinarily it’s a bad idea for him to give information during an interrogation session, but this isn’t an ordinary situation, and it’s not like the information he’s going to reveal is anything like secret.

"So, here’s my difficulty, Laurie… perhaps you can clear it up for me. You keep talking as if it were 2007. It isn’t. It’s twenty years after that. Your ‘Bobby Drake’ isn’t some long-lost relative of mine; I am Robert Drake… Frank Sinatra and Rilke and all. Laurie Collins, who is now in her mid-30s, went into hiding years ago. Xavier’s Institute in Westchester was demolished not long after that. So maybe you can explain to me how a teenager claiming to be Laurie turns up in my facility remembering twenty-year-old events as if they were yesterday?"