[Quicksilver]

There was something about the cold, silent halls of the Brotherhood that was a little less conducive to personal conversations with Wanda than the outdoors. It might be the fact that at any time, a Brotherhood member could effectively creep up on the discussion and ruin any sense of privacy they had. In truth, however, it had more to do with the outdoors - Pietro much preferred open land, spaces with trees and grass, versus floors that echoed under your feet and security locked doors that took an irritating amount of time to open.

The city itself was not Pietro's choice of living environment. It was an environment of necessity - the place he laid his head at night was with the Brotherhood, under the direction of Magneto and in protection of the cause he rallied behind. That was his life now, but it didn't mean he had forgotten the simpler times, when all he needed was all he had - the company of Wanda and his parents. Even in those times, where stealing was the only option and when the threat of discovery as a mutant was looming over his family, it was there that Pietro remembered a semblance of peace that could only be revisited with his sister.

And that sense of peace was one of the few reasons Pietro had requested that his sister join him for a walkabout Central Park, with the possibility of food from a Broadway or Seventh Avenue afterwards. Though it wasn't necessarily a rare day Pietro found himself in the company of the public, it was a rare day that Pietro's company was Wanda, and Wanda alone. This point, though nothing of monumental proportions, meant that there was no one to impress, and Pietro had found it within himself to relax a little. For right now, at least, he was content to be another face in the crowd as long as it allowed him time with Wanda.

So, here he was, dressed appropriately for a change with a scarf and a leather jacket to block the cold wind straining through the park. Wanda should be proud that he'd even elected to wear jeans instead of something else from his wardrobe that only added to the silver-white hair to increase the unfortunate 'old man' effect Pietro suffered through. That was the curse of his appearance - the twenty-eight year old was often confused for someone much older, and that was one of the few things that immediately irked him. That, and elevators, with their impossible slowness.

Thankfully, there was no snow yet this year, so the twins could meander around the walkways without the threat of ice patches or merely cold feet. Pietro paused by the lake, leaning on the concrete barrier to look out over the water and survey the little piece of New York that reflected in the surface. "It is fascinehting, t'e city," Pietro began, speaking to his sister while he watched the reflection of a plane pass over the water to the sounds of the city around them. "It mehkes me miss home, however."

[Scarlet Witch]

Like her brother Wanda had a certain amount of distaste for being surrounded by the towering buildings and press of people that characterized most cities. They'd been born into the wilds of Europe, spent their childhood as traveling gypsies -- first with their parents and then on their own -- and to be confined within the boundaries of a city could be suffocating at times. So many people, all rushing this way and that, clamoring to be heard...she really wasn't a fan. As with so many other things, however, Wanda put aside her own discomfort, her own uneasiness, to stay with her brother. Pietro chose the Brotherhood and she refused to be separated from him, and it really was as simple as that when you got right down to it.

The city wasn't always a bad place, mind you, and at least there were places like Central Park where she could pretend, however briefly, that they had managed to find their way back to a simpler time. It may not have been an easy life, meandering through Europe and stealing what they needed to live, but in Wanda's eyes it was a far cry better than being part of some terrorist organization.

At least today she was away from the questionable characters that filled their current home, perfectly content to wander her way through the park at her brother's side. When it was just she and Pietro she could relax, no need to constantly be on guard, and already a small, contented smile played about the Witch's lips. "Fascinating is not the word I would use," she remarked, though the words were laced with humor. "Dirty, crowded, smelly, these are more accurate, I think." Teeth flashed briefly in a proper smile as she leaned against the barrier next to her sibling.

Staring out across the water she took in the view without really seeing it, mind overlaying a more pleasing image from years ago. A quiet sigh followed, a wistful sort of sound, as she voiced her agreement. "I miss home too." She knew better than to suggest they return there; Pietro would never willingly leave the Brotherhood, not when he knew he could always talk Wanda into staying.

[Quicksilver]

Yes, Wanda was correct. There were parts of the city Pietro hated. The constant throng of people, of humans, milling about was an annoyance to Pietro. He disliked feeling crowded and boxed in above most other things, since his mutation was only useful if he had clear and stable footing, and clear and stable footing couldn't necessarily be found by stepping on people in his way. The garbage and the pollution were other irritating things that city provided, in mass quantities in Pietro's opinion. But even though the waters of the Central Park lake were laced with an oily substance on the surface and even though the walking paths were gravel and cement instead of natural dirt and grass, this was the only place on Manhattan Island that lacked metal and glass buildings to block the sunlight and the wind from passing through.

Pietro glanced over at his sister in the moment of silence that occurred after she spoke, fully intent on returning her quiet smile from before, but his attention was captured by one of the many passerbys walking and jogging and ambling behind the twins. There were probably hundreds of people in Central Park at this particular moment in time, but Pietro was focused on one in particular with a deadpan expression on his face. This likely flatscan had decided that it was completely necessary to stare rudely at Wanda's backside and had unfortunately caught Pietro's eye in the process. A pointed look towards the man redirected his attention and allowed Pietro to focus once again on his sister.

Like everybody else in the world, apparently.

"Fascinehting doesn't hehve to include t'e people. T'e innovation of simply mehking towers of steel ehnd glass, structures t'eht can be eit'er ugly or beautiful depending on t'eir design, is fascinehting." Pietro drew his gaze back onto the surface of the water, wishing that the sky was a bit clearer, but that wish was better met with a summer afternoon instead of the wintery day they had at hand. "Dirty ehnd smelly ehs t'eir cities mehy be, humans hehve managed some great accomplishments, ehnd hopefully t'ey'll continue t'e survival of t'e fittest to evolve into bigger ehnd better t'ings."

Pietro didn't have to define what things he was referring to. It was their life in the Brotherhood, everything the organization was fighting for. The dominance of mutantkind.

[Scarlet Witch]

Pietro did not often pause in conversation. One of the side affects of his powers, one that Wanda had long grown used to, and sometimes she could even manage to follow along when he became so excited or agitated that he removed the spaces that normal people put between their words. Only sometimes, though, and it required a rather ridiculous amount of concentration on her part. So for him to look at her as if to say something and then not say it? She watched his eyes slide over behind her, brows lifting in a silent question even as her own gaze turned to follow his, but by the time she'd turned her head she saw nothing but the usual ebb and flow of people passing by.

"Did something catch your attention?" This she would not find surprising, given how flighty Pietro's attention tended to be. She knew he was paying her plenty of attention as well, but the very nature of Pietro's mutation had always made him a little...twitchy. Like a child with ADHD but multiplied a hundred times, and she only inquired after the shift in attention out of idle curiosity. If it had been something truly important he would have already been talking about it.

Ah, but then they were back on the subjects of humans and their cities, and it was clear in the downward turn of her mouth that Wanda disapproved with what her brother had to say on the subject of evolution. The words seemed harmless enough on the surface, to someone who was not privy to knowing that the man was a mutant and what his feelings were towards those who were not. Wanda, unfortunately, knew precisely what her brother actually meant with such a statement.

"I do not understand why you hate them so much," she commented with the lightest of sighs, turning to rest her back against the barrier and therefore observe the people in question. "They are not so different from us. So they cannot run faster than the wind," a glimpse of a teasing smile, which then became somewhat rueful as her gaze flicked briefly down to her own hands, "or spread chaos in their wake. I hardly think that automatically makes them inferior to us." For a moment that almost wistful air was back, this time directed at the hum-drum lives of the people passing before her eyes. Wanda's relationship with her powers had always been a little tumultuous, and there were times where she'd give up almost anything to trade places with someone 'normal'.

But that would mean leaving the Brotherhood, which would in turn mean leaving Pietro, and they couldn't have that, now could they?

Her gaze shifted back to her brother, and though this argument was a tired one between the twins Wanda stubbornly persisted. Someone had to be Pietro's conscience. "We are not better or worse than they are. Just different."

[Quicksilver]

It wasn't often that Pietro lied to his sister, but in this particular case, he felt it was justified. "I t'ought I recognized someone." There was no need to explain to Wanda the creepy intense need to protect he felt for her, especially when she already knew about it. Telling her that some flatscan was disrespecting her would only bring up an age-old debate about how she appreciated his concern but she didn't need his protection and other details that Pietro simply zoned out.

No, she didn't need his protection twenty-four seven, but Pietro was going to give it anyways. If anything, he was arrogant, and this allowed him to assume that because Wanda had a questionable control over her own mutation it was his duty as a brother (and as the only family his sister had) to protect her. This argument had holes in it the size of mountains. Though the phrase is 'love is blind', allow me to alter it for this instance to say this. Arrogance is blinding.

Pietro listened his sister's words with a uneasy feeling in his head and stomach, worry biting at him as fast as he could think it. He responded with a half-hearted smile, the intention behind it clear that there was no happiness lurking. It was a blank gesture. Instead, Pietro had decided not to argue with his sister about something that would have normally set him off. The presence of so many flatscans was irritating to him, and he longed for somewhere only the two twins knew, somewhere they could talk without worrying about the Brotherhood listening or flatscans interrupting or anything like that.

Somewhere like home, but then again, that memory contained mixed emotions. Happiness with death and the threat given to the young mutants before Magneto had protected them. No. Pietro would not turn a blind eye to what the flatscans had done and continued to do. There was a moment of silence marked by lack of movement from Pietro, who was usually doing something to pass the time, then he spoke again, quietly and almost sadly. "You haven't forgotten what t'ey did to us, what t'ey did to our family, have you?"

[Scarlet Witch]

Thought he recognized someone, eh? That was more than good enough for Wanda, who nodded absently at this perfectly plausible explanation. She honestly wasn't all that concerned with it; she knew her brother well enough to know when something was worth pressing for details on and this certainly wasn't one of those. Of more concern was the empty sort-of smile he offered after her spiel on the humans, and the stillness in his silence even moreso, and there was a note of suspicion in the way she narrowed her eyes fractionally at him. Something was brewing in that overactive mind of his, and she doubted she would like it.

And she was right.

Her first reaction was one of guilt. Even after all these years the feeling was as sharp and heavy as it had ever been. "Of course I haven't," was her immediate response, unhappy memories casting sorrowful shadows on her face. Normally she was very careful not to allow her emotions free reign in her expression but with Pietro she had no reason to hide; he wasn't likely to take advantage of emotional displays in the way that some of their cohorts might (or so she liked to tell herself, at least). "How could I?" Grief and terror had been seared into her soul by those events, she was hardly likely to just forget them, something her twin should know well enough.

But Wanda wasn't the type to blame all humans for the actions of the few, either, and though acceptance for mutants was, well, practically unheard of it often seemed, she didn't think that should stop them from hoping for it. Besides, since when had meeting violence with more violence ever worked out well for anyone? So after that initial spike of guilt the witch squared her shoulders and straightened her spine, turning serious and earnest eyes on her brother. "So we react to their fear and hatred with hatred of our own and accomplish nothing. We have been with the Brotherhood for how many years now, Pietro? And nothing has changed, for the better or for the worse. How much longer will it take for you to realize that we would be better off on our own?"

[Quicksilver]

(In which Pietro proves he has some humanity... and then pretends to be Magneto.)


Once again, there was silence, but it was not because Pietro was ignoring his sister. He was thinking, as fast as he could and as carefully as he could. There was a careful balance here, something to be upheld, if not strengthened. It was both the bond that kept the twins at the Brotherhood and the connection between Wanda and Pietro’s themselves. There was a quiet resignation in Pietro’s voice, an almost calm that was unexpected from the temperamental speedster, and had this been anyone else, he would have immediately jumped to anger. But not Wanda, never Wanda. ”Humans are going to continue to be hostile toward mutehnts forever. T’ere is no escaping it.”

Another pause, but this one was shorter. Pietro had found his foothold, and he was running with it. ”You cannot place two predators in t’e same space ehnd tell t’em not to fight wit’out one of t’em ending up hurt, or dead. T’ey are t’rehtened by us, ehnd t’ey should be.” There was that mutant supremacy coming out once again, a long-instilled ideal that would hold a place in Pietro’s life until someone convinced him otherwise. ”Humans may be predators, but t’ey are outdehted, an old model of t’e future. Mutehnts are evolved, an improvement upon t’e human... species to create somet’ing better, ehnd for t’eht we hehve t’e right of elites.” That was that. Straightforward, no arguing supremacy.

But then, there was something a little different. Pietro would not dare back down from the Brotherhood message with any of the members, but with his sister, he could speak his mind. Life had not always been about controlling flatscans, and Pietro was not ignorant enough (or at least he had more time to think about things) to discount the time before all of this. It showed, sometimes, quietly and briefly, but it was there. ”T’ere was eh chance, long ehgo, when mutehnts were first coming into t’e light for humans to ehccept t’e fact t’eht t’e genetic construct was changing for t’e better ehnd ehttempt to join our ranks, but it was met wit’ fear ehnd loat’ing.” This time, Pietro was not speaking carefully, but it was slow and more paced than his usual. A sign that Pietro was having to think and bring his thoughts into words at the same time, a sign of consideration. He continued after another pause. ”T’eht fear ehnd loat’ing continues todehy, ehnd t’ough you’re right, hehtred begets hehtred, t’ere is no ot’er choice for protection, Wanda.”

That careful humanity was steeled as soon as Pietro realized that he had faltered, and as is proper for every logical challenge to an illogical belief in an arrogant man, he reacted quickly with a firm resolve. ”You are my fehmily, all I have, ehnd if we choose to back down to humanity, t’ere is no guarantee t’eht t’ey will do t’e same, in fehct, it is guaranteed only t’eht t’ey will continue to murder ehnd kill our own simply because we are more ehdvehnced t’ehn t’em, ehnd t’ey cannot hehndle being t’rehtened. I can choose to protect my own, or I can stand still while I wait for eh bullet to strike.” Pietro did not do well for waiting for something to happen. He wanted action, he wanted motion. He certainly was not going to stand idle while a war was being fought against his own people. He’d seen what happened the last time Pietro chose to let things be and not protect what was his.

”T’ings hehve changed. We hehve power, now.” Power that the Brotherhood wished to maintain. ”Humans are less likely to ehttehck an obviously stronger mutehnt, t’ough t’ose weaker are still eht risk. We hehve made an impehct on mankind t’eht sends t’e message t’eht we are eh force to be considered, t’eht we are stronger, better, smarter, faster t’ehn t’em, ehnd mutehnts deserve t’e tribute of simple power ehnd respect.” He leveled his eyes at the skyline once again, a hard look on his face, an unforgiving look that was completely resolved to the cause at hand. ”T’eht’s ehll we’re ehsking for, yet t’e humans continue killing. T’eht’s ehll t’ey understand, Wanda, so t’eht is t’e force we need to use. Words are only more powerful t’ehn t’e sword if people are willing to listen.” This resolve circled back around to bring the mutant supremacy back into the conversation, an edge of steel against humanity rising up as Pietro’s anger returned. ”Humans are stupid and can’t listen. Won’t listen. Peace isn’t an option. We hehve no other choice.”

[Scarlet Witch]

"You don't know that," was her immediate response to his first retort, her tone as quiet and firm as his but lacking that resigned air. None of them could tell the future, least of all Pietro, and there was no telling what mankind would do in the coming years. To even review the changes, the progress that had been made in the last fifty years was enough to give hope for the next fifty. Of course the changes wouldn't occur right away, the shift might be so small as to go unnoticed, but Wanda believed that shift, that change in thinking would happen. It had to. Everyone knew the number of mutants was growing practically exponentially, and eventually humans were bound to bow to the inevitable, right? No sense antagonizing them in the meantime.

She let him speak then, fixing hazel eyes on his face and studying both words and the expression that went with them. Her own expression remained mostly neutral, just the faintest hint of skepticism in the way the corners of her eyes were ever so slightly scrunched, a subtle tell but one her brother would no doubt notice. The look became more pronounced at his talk of them as two predators, her face so clearly displaying her disagreement. The world, the relationship between mutants and humans, was not so black and white as her brother would have it. There were a thousand shades of gray to be considered, to be weighed and measured, you could not just apply these blanket statements to either species.

"We are not animals, Pietro, driven by nothing more than instinct and the basest of desires. Do you consider us all like Catseye, incapable of being logical and reasonable? Of seeing more than what is directly in front of us?" She shook her head, a soft snort following his proclamation of them as 'elite'. This wasn't some Elizabethan monarchy, with humans the commoners and mutants the ruling class, no matter how people like Magneto, like Mystique and Pietro, might try to make it so.

Though she could tell that he was thinking through what he said before it left his lips, even more so than usual, he wasn't saying anything different, not really. Phrased differently, a little softer than usual, perhaps, but it was all the same sentiment, the same views that Magneto had hammered into his skull. "Sometimes I wonder if you even hear yourself," she told him, sorrowful shadows lurking in her eyes. "There was a chance for them to 'attempt to join us', you say. Attempt, as though even if they had greeted our kind with open arms they may not have been welcome. To join us, like we are the conquerors and they the conquered. And you blame them for not wanting to fall in under those who have no respect for them no matter what they do?" How could he not see how, how arrogant that was? To assume that you were better than they just because some strange quirk of fate gave you a gift (or a curse). "Were you human, would you submit to those who claim to be better than you? Without any proof that they would treat you justly, or kindly? With, in fact, every evidence to the contrary? I would not." And even if Pietro denied it, even if he claimed it didn't matter because he wasn't human, Wanda knew her brother well enough to know the answer anyway.

Of course he wouldn't.

Hazel eyes rolled at his talk of guarantees, and again she was shaking her head in disagreement. "That is not a guarantee, that is a prediction you make to justify your actions," a finger jabbed in the direction of his chest for emphasis, "because as long as you can convince yourself they will hurt you, then it is okay for you to hurt them first." It was a ridiculous policy if you took even a moment to consider it, but why bother doing that when you could be wreaking havoc instead?

Protection. That was always his reasoning, always his excuse. He was protecting her, he was protecting their kind, protect, protect, protect. "Sometimes I think the world could do with less 'protecting'." Heavy, sarcastic emphasis on that last word, because no matter how he tried to dress it up he wasn't protecting anything. He was, the Brotherhood was, attacking. The Americans had a saying 'the best defense is a good offence', or something along those lines, but Wanda thought that sounded like nothing more than a great excuse do whatever you wanted in the name of 'defending' your own. It was clearly the theory Magneto subscribed to.

"We don't have power Pietro," she countered with a sigh, the fire of her previous retort slipping away just as quickly as it appeared. She angled her body away from his to lean her elbows upon the barrier again, chin cupped in one hand. "We have a wariness driven by fear of what might happen if they push us too hard, but that fear can just as easily make them more determined to hurt us as it can make them cower before us. Is that really what you want? To be feared?" Wanda did not, and that much was clear in the unhappiness that was painted all over her face.

She did not expect to wake up one morning and have everything turn into sunshine and rainbows overnight, for everyone to love everyone else and the world to become some sort of utopia. There would always be those who disliked mutants, who hated them or feared them, but that made them no different than any other minority that had struggled to have the same rights as the majority. There were always those who remained stuck in the past, who clung to outdated ideas, but change could happen. And it was not likely to come about through blowing up rallies and killing bigoted men. That, she felt, did nothing more than prove their fear of mutants was a valid one.

Wanda said nothing in the space after his last words, let them linger there, heavy and unforgiving as she stared out over the water without really seeing it. When had her brother become this man? He had always been prone to arrogance, to a rather black-and-white world view, but to be so solidly assured that violence and bloodshed were the answers to his problems? It made her feel that somewhere along the line she had failed him, somehow, that she should have spoken and did not, that she should have pushed back instead of letting him have his way. Now maybe it was too late. "There is always a choice, Pietro."

She was starting to realize that she would have to make one, and soon.

[Quicksilver]

Pietro heard everything Wanda said. He listened, and her words did mean something to him, but there were only a few that hit home, throwing a blockade into the road Pietro ran and forcing him to think a little differently. Due to his overwhelming arrogance, Pietro both cared and did not care about what she actually said. He heard the words - they existed to him - but it was the tone he actually heard, the content blended together to create a general disapproving air. Only those few pieces that caught his interest stood out, and there they overtook his thoughts in favor of the whole.

He could have picked up on the animal note, that mutants were not supposed to be brutish and dominating and instinctual - except for those that were, of course, but they were exceptions to the rule. This was true. Mankind advanced very little in the modern age with violence as a ruler, and even though it was boring and slow and often frustrating, politics were the better option if mutants wanted to live with humans in peace. Conquerors either won or lost. They either subjugated the conquered or were destroyed by their own devices, and often times, the latter was still the case as years passed by, even if by some chance the conquerors were victorious.

He could have picked up on the suggestion that Pietro would give in to someone better than him, had he been human. No - that was the answer. Absolutely not. There was absolutely no way of imagining Pietro as anything other than the arrogant man that he was. His mutation had long been a part of him, and even before that he was a proud little boy, and in some ways that immature view of bigger, better, invincible life had never left Pietro. It was probably more that he refused to let it go. There was no admitting weakness for Pietro, because that meant he was somehow unable to defend himself and his sister, that meant that his ability to protect failed, that somehow the destruction of his family could occur again. And, which species posed a greater threat to he and Wanda, the ones who actively threatened death or the ones who... less actively threatened? (Here, the logic fell apart, but Pietro refused to consider his own species as an equal threat to his and his own as the humans.)

He could have turned here to the idea of less protecting, but Wanda was, again, right. That was Pietro’s excuse. It was his reasoning. They’d been through being unobtrusive mutants, quiet and content to live on their own, without the majority of humankind. That was met by fire and hate, and it was a mutant who saved him, not the kindness of humanity. Perhaps that was one situation of many, an exception, but when exposed to anger and pain, you came to expect anger and pain, especially when it was taught to you from one considered more noble and right than yourself. (Teenagers were impressionable, after all.)

But, he didn’t choose to dwell on any of these. He chose something more selfish, yet still important, to think about in the blank silence he wore. Wanda asked him a question, simple enough - did he want to be feared? No. No. That was what Mystique did, that was how she ruled. Fear, not respect, not anything that made Pietro want to listen to the woman, want to follow her Brotherhood in the absence of Magneto. The man had his respect, but that was years and years and years in the making, the blind loyalty that left Pietro so arrogant and vulnerable. That was ingrained as badly as the hate of humankind, without enough evidence to back it up. That was brainwashing (not that Pietro would note it), but Mystique? He understood how much he hated the unfounded claims she made of power, manipulating by fear of her mutation rather than anything else.

Did... did Pietro want to be feared by anyone? No, he would rather respect and acknowledgement, for what or of what, he didn’t know. He didn’t want the other Brotherhood members to fear him. He wanted his opinions counted as more than just the impatient (and wholly arrogant) ramblings of the speedster, only to be ignored by those “above” him. If you could take away the “flatscans” and Pietro’s hate toward them, he wanted to be himself, Quicksilver, Pietro, whoever, but he wanted to receive just looks of curiosity - for arrogance did mean an overwhelming sense of vanity and pride - not those looks that automatically counted him as a mutant and reacted in kind.

Fear turned to hate. Something both mutants and humans had in common. That thought did pass through Pietro’s mind, but it was the curse of the speedster that it did not linger any longer than any other thoughts, and the mutant simply stood where he was in silence. The thoughts moved on, back and forth between topics, never staying on one idea, and eventually he moved on, keeping his silence and choosing not to argue with Wanda. Pietro didn’t necessarily agree with her or disagree with her entirely, and that was what saved him from arguing, that was what turned his path slightly, placing not doubt, but change in the mind of the man.

And it was his mutation that allowed him to make this kind of change. Normal people spent time making decisions, normal people had time to think slowly and carefully. Pietro was hasty, and his mutation afforded him plenty of thought, but the decision and the change were made almost instantly and almost unconsciously. He still disliked flatscans, but the words “dislike” and “distrust” jumped to the forefront of his thoughts, not “hate”. He still valued mutantkind over humankind, but maybe there was a bit of kindness left in the man, if it existed at all, something that kept him from placing the humans in the same lot as animals at the moment.

Would this last? Perhaps it would, but this was Pietro, this was Quicksilver. He could change again, and he probably would change again. But for now, Wanda was right.

Even if he wouldn’t admit it.