2010-03-11: A Very Long Day


Mike_icon.jpg Rashmi_icon.jpg Robyn_icon.jpg July_icon.jpg Doc_icon.jpg Forge_icon.jpg Magneto_icon.jpg Chezlie_icon.jpg Kael_icon.jpg Scott_icon.jpg

Summary: Over the course of a long day, Rashmi recovers from her boyfriend's love tap with a crowbar, Mike is found by someone and partly repaired by Forge, Magneto brings Kael and Chezlie back from a near-fatal encounter with Daisuke-the-Marauder, and Scott shows up in time to get into a slanging match with Magneto.

Date: March 11, 2010

A Very Long Day

Rating: R

Xavier Mansion - Medical Bay

The Medical Bay contains the latest medical equipment to patch up students and X-Men with the smallest and worst injuries. Six beds line the walls for injured patients. Equipment lines the walls, medicine in the cabinets, and more serious medical supplies locked in cabinets. One this about this room it screams sterilization.

Sometime around 3am, when the battery on his cellphone finally failed, an alarm went off. Mike Drakos had been spending every spare minute in the chapel, so nobody thought it was odd for his locator to say that he was there. But missing a day of classes, and then not responding to curfew, that set off an alarm somewhere, and eventually, one of the teachers found him in the underbrush, about 12 yards off the path, where he had crashed when the EMP blast of a petulant Magneto blew out those parts of his body that were susceptible. Like his engine. And his eyes.
He's been placed in one of the medbay stations.

Rumours fly like crazy around Xavier's. Lucas and Police, Cloud missing, Jordan, Rashmi in medbay, and a few more interesting ones, which is why as soon as Robyn got a chance he's rushed down to the medbay for two reasons. One, to see how Rashmi's doing and two, to ask what happened. The first is the more important one though. Digging up a couple of cookies, oatmeal raisin, and microwaving a can of soup, he's come down to visit his friend, hoping she's awake. Seeing Mike laid out though, causes another surprise. He didn't hear any rumours about him….yet.

Not particularly feeling full of energy following her little explosion the night before, Rashmi had simply curled up on her bed, content to pass out and make the day end that way. The 3am hauling-in of the robotic teen creates noise enough to break through for a moment… but it's not until she wakens this afternoon, and gives the Medbay a bleary-eyed once-over, does his presence on the Magic Fixit Thingy register. And this is how Robyn finds the medbay; a truly spent-looking redhead, tangled in the medbay sheets as sleep-borne lack of coordination wars with the urge to Get Out Of Bed Now What Happened To Mike.

The medbay Mike is in has been configured to "maintain and monitor" rather than "repair" … mostly because there's some suspicion that if they wake Mike up he'll be in pain, and either Hank or Forge should look at the damage first. However, the medbay's "maintain" has decided that the robot's battery is getting low, and the medbay starts doing something. A robotic arm lowers down over where his navel would be while another in the headrest activates unseen, and his "unlatch" is operated. With a ker-chunk, his faceplate pops upwards and his chest opens along a hitherto unseen seam, revealing a mechanical framework. A sphere the size of a basketball sits in the middle of his chest, and the mechanical arm extrudes a plug that inserts into that sphere. One of the readouts starts to show a 'charging' animation.

"Hey Rashmi…I brought you something to eat." Robyn says as he puts a bowl of Campbells Chicken Noodle Soup down next to her the cookies, and sits down. "How you doing Rash?" He asks as she doesn't look to good. He's worried about her and like she's been there for him so many times, he wants to be there for her. "What happened to Mike?"

"I don't know! I just woke up and saw him and… and… get… me… out…. ARRGH!" Deciding the struggle is utterly lost, she flops backward onto the bed, watching Mike's face and body open up, a touch of green on her cheeks. "…I'm…. not so good, I think," she says faintly.

Of course now that Mike's main processor has a steady energy feed, it can finally reset. And does. One of the readouts, a dial-shaped icon on the medbay screen, has been at just-above-zero, and pings twice to 100 percent, then wobbles back and forth for a good second and a half before settling at a 60% mark.
The collar on Mike's neck has been removed, but the voicebox Hank built has been left on his neck, and it activates.
"Whherre am I? why isz everythin ggin black and whiiite? I can't move." That's a Mike voice, sounding a bit less queasy than Rashmi.

Robyn stands up and puts a hand on Rashmi's head and starts brushing her hair back. "Rash…what happened?" He's not asking to find out about Jordan, he's asking cause he's worried about what happened to her. "If you really want to get out of here, I don't think it's a great idea, but I'll help you get out." He looks at Mike for a few seconds and answers. "You're in the medbay Mike. I..I don't know the answer to the other two."

Rashmi opens her mouth to reply, but falls silent at the sound of Mike's voice. Throwing a meaningful glance at the robotic mutant's bay, she draws in a deep breath. "…I don't know what happened, Mike… um… you're sort of plugged in… I guess your battery ran low, or something?"

"Oh," Mike says, and tries again to do …anything really. A set of status indicators he cannot normally see with his conscious mind appears and tells him that his engine is offline, that his sensory coprocessor is offline. No information about the cause of the problem.
At least, though, his emotional processes were reset so he's not having to deal with that rage function running overtime about Sinister mindraping Jono. He tries to remember what happened.
"That'z odd. I wasz coming baack from the chapel to meet Rashmi in the library and something was very bright. That'zs all I remember. Exzept I remember mud."

Robyn doesn't know what happened and just nods. "Are you okay Mike?" Meaning, are you going to be okay. He looks at Rashmi and watches her for a long time. He doesn't say anything though, just kind of looks at her with a worried expression on his face.

Rashmi looks terrible, to be frank. Baggy, red eyes, hair a mess, overall just… worn out. But even still, she frowns at herself, eyes flicking back and forth as she links up events in her mind. "Mike," she says slowly, "it's… it's Thursday. …When did this happen?"

Wait, what? URK. Mike says in a bemused sort of buzz, "Am I zzeeing thingz or iz my chezt rreally open and what iz with my faze?"
He answers Rashmi's question though. "It shoulld be Tuezdaay aat juzt beforre niine, I wwaz running szo I woulddn't be laate for currfew."
The charger indicator shows about a 50% charge.

"It's Thursday Mike, right around lunch time." Robyn says quietly. "And yeah, your chest…its…open." He says before looking at Rashmi. "What happened to you Rash, you look horrible. Do you need anything?"

"Just a break," Rashmi whispers, closing her eyes. "Just… for everything to stop and be normal for a little bit…" With a heavy sigh, she opens her eyes again. "Um… I… think I know what happened… Um… That's… about a little after James called me… He… said he thought he killed Jono. So… we went to get him, and Jono was there, all cut open… Then Magneto came down. Told us to get back to the mansion. …. I guess… I guess Jono got away from him… So…. he sort of pitched a fit."

Ah. That explains it. EMP. Why did you not think of EMP hardening when you were designing your ultimate car, Mikey? DUH, because it's not something you run into a lot, and I was twelve? NO excuses. Next design gets EMP hardening. Of course, next design is already much cooler anyway.
"That makesz sennze then. SZomeone shoulld send hiim a 'F' iin power conntrol." That last bit might be humor? The rest of the story… good lord. Mike goes quiet for moment while he processes the other stuff. James the Unstable Beast, and Jon playing with him? No good can come… well, OK, it could, but WAY too much pain on the way.
"Hwwhy are you in heere Raszhmi? Oh. You haave a bummp on yourr head. LLarge one. Heey Robyn, iit'z good to szee you, iii wiszh I could show you hoow this looks. Eeveryting izz surfaces.s."

"How about once you can get out of here Rash, we'll do something normal, so that we can stay on school grounds." It's probably a good thing that Robyn hasn't heard what happend last night except that Jordan was scene. "We can have a picnic by the stables, okay? Try to let something be normal. Maybe get Lucas and a few others to join us." He looks over at Mike and nods. "Well, I'm glad you okay Mike. Even if I didn't know you were hurt initally."

Rashmi's face crumples at the well-meaning statements given by her friends. "We can't," she says, voice tightening. "We can't do anything normal… It'll always get ruined… Lucas and I just wanted to get a *Cinnabon*… And… and then he knocked me out and stayed behind for when the cops came…"
July has connected.

"OKay? I wiill be, I thiink … rrepaairz to do."
Normal. Picnic by stables. Why does normal always have to involve food? Right, because food is what always brings us all together ever since we were hunter-gatherers wandering the plains … or robo-gatherers? Nah, that's just weird.
"Raszhmi? iit'll be aall righht. Eeverything will eevenntually."
The robot arm of the medbay remains in place, feeding a trickle charge, but the chestplate is closed down MOST of the way.

Robyn looks down and shakes his head. "No, we can Rashmi. We can." Robyn's more trying to tell himself that, he's not going to get caught up in the never ending cycle that is mutant hell. Then his head pops back up. "What…Lucas knocked you out? And Cops…what do you mean? Why did Lucas knock you out?"

July sighs as she comes into the medbay, wearing her blue-and-yellow X-man generic costume, given to all graduates. "Man, I'm beat…" she shakes her head while stepping inside, and then is quite surprised to find quite the crowd where she expected to find just one, maybe two people. "Wow. Oh, hey everyone." the rubber girl says, smiling a bit and waving, before just slumping her shoulders again, tired. "how are you doing, Rashmi?" she asks softly.

Rashmi closes her eyes as July enters, curling back up around her pillow. "Hi, July… Um… d'you think you could tell them what happened last night? I… don't really have the energy to, right now…" By the looks of it, Rashmi's not doing well at all. Frazzled hair (and there is a hell of a lot of it), baggy, red eyes, weariness in every line of her face… The girl looks like she's been juggling two college majors, a major breakup, and being fired from work, all at once.

Mike "peers" around but can't quite tell … "Whoo juzt caame in? I caan't zee them"… Too far away until she gets closer, and when she does Mike can't tell her from anyone else, not knowing her all that well.
Mike-the-robot-student is in a medbay near the one Rashmi is in. He's banged up and his eyes look like smashed headlights.

To Robyn, Rashmi has always been the strong one, the forceful one. The one who is willing to be there for anyone who needs it and to see her like this, it's hard on him. He leans forward and gives her a tight hug, if she lets him. "If you need someone to talk to Rash, or just need someone for anything, I'm your friend okay?" He looks over at Mike and answers his question. "It's July that came in. July, hey." He says giving her a small wave.

July smiles and waves to Mike, "Hey there." she says, "Name's July." she nods softly to the guy, before looking at Robyn. "have you heard about Jordan yet, Robyn?" The girl asks as she makes herself comfortable on a chair, letting out a long sigh as she relaxes. "I've seen some bad news, and some worse news, back at that incident…"

Rashmi's head lifts, a faint frown touching her haggard features as by the look of it, July either missed her question or ignored it. Snuggling into the pillow, she squeezes her eyes shut, nodding in answer to Robyn's reassurance.

Mike would perk up with interest and probably dread if he could. Jordan? Instead, he lays there like a lump of metal. Most of his attention is focussed inwards, but he does issue a polite, "good to meet you July, too bad iit'z in szuch rottten zircumstaanzes."

Robyn reaches over to take Rashmi's hand and gives it a light squeeze. "No July, I just heard that some people ran into him last night. Something about Lucas and Police and Cloud but I really don't know anything."

July nods softly, "Yeah, I saw a guy made of pure white threaten someoen in a house from the gates, and just walked in through the bars of the front gates. He has intangibility as well as glowing white, and being slightly translucent." she explains. "When we confronted him, he turned around to reveal himself as Jordan. It's him." she then bites her lower lip as she frowns softly. "He says he's working with Mr Sinister, and willingly at that. He was there to recover something from the computers of the guy that lives there. Lucas rushed in and destroyed all the computers of the house. He made an object intangible and then solid again, but inside the security guard's hand, and I was left to take care of him, since I couldn't touch Jordan. Rashmi, Cloud and Lucas went in after that." she explains. "When Jordan left, Cloud went after him, but, as Jordan teleported away, he took Cloud with him."

Rashmi simply lies there, squeezing Robyn's hand. Perhaps she's merely resting her eyes, perhaps not. It's difficult to tell, but she's evidently not in the mood to do much in the way of moving at the moment.

Oh swell. Another one. Mike turns off his emotional process again before it can start grinding on this one. No energy to waste on being upset. At all.
His voice, not terribly loud, is as precise and accurate as it is only when he's praying. "None of them was willing, July. This much I learned watching Lorna. Read about Stockholm Syndrome and then think about telepaths. Their free will is compromised."
And without speaking it aloud, he returns to the work of praying for them. After all, he doesn't need to be able to move to do that.

Robyn gets really quiet and after a while he finally speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. "He didn't do it willingly. Just like Jono isn't." He can't believe that the two of them are doing it willingly, something is changing them. He's not sure what but it's something. He stays quiet just telling himself over and over in his mind that Jordan isn't doing it willingly, neither is Jono, or Skyler or Brian or Daisuke. He'll process the other changes later.

July frowns softly, "He said he's gone to Sinister willingly, that Sinister did a job for him in exchange of his services…" at least that's what the rubber girl understood from the quick banter back at the crime scene. "And that he's tired of some shit brought to light with all that demon chaos that happened some time ago."

"Stop it, July," Rashmi murmurs wearily. "You don't know. You're just… hearing. And he's all messed up in his head, but you're calling that the truth." An eye cracks open, eyebrows drawing down as she orients her gaze on the rubber girl. "Just… stop it."

"Perhaps he believes that to be true. It is not. Do not be deceived by the works of the Enemy and his servants, for he is the father of lies." Mike's response carries tones of conviction, though no other recognizable emotion.

Robyn stands up quickly and looks at July. "SHUT UP! He didn't do it willingly! He wouldn't have!" Robyn can't believe that Jordan would have done that willingly, no. It would make it even harder and he can't face that. He gives a look to Rashmi that almost says 'thank you'. "I'm sorry, I…I'll see you later Rashmi, Mike. You guys rest." He says before rushing out of the medbay. He needs sometime to be alone, to think. To get away from what can't be true.

July looks at Rashmi as the girl calmly, tiredly say for her to drop the subject, and she was about to say something to her friend when Robyn explodes, surprising her, causing July to jump in surprise and end up falling backwards from her chair. Ow. If she wasn't made of taffy she could have hurt her head on the floor. "Um… sorry?" she says as she picks herself back up and stands up, putting the chair back up as well. "Sorry, Robyn." she says softly, before the guy leaves the room. After a few moments of silence, the girl says again, "More than with Jordan, we need to worry about Cloud. He's there, with him, at Mr Sinister's place… god knows where…"

"…You were talking about Robyn's boyfriend, July," Rashmi says as Robyn storms out. "I thought you knew." As July directs the topic to something of greater import, the redhead nods a bit. "Has anyone told the Headmaster yet? He should really know."

Mike's voice comes again, flattish. "He's going to be all right." Dead weight of conviction there. No idea why or how or what the circumstances. No reason. Blind faith?

July sighs softly, and then she stretches an arm longer to get a cup of water for herself as she sits back down, "Yeah, I guess that slipped my mind. Damn, I suck." she shakes her head softly as she retracts her arm, and then takes a sip of her water. "Can I get you anything, guys?"

"A time machine," Rashmi says quietly. "Other than that… I'm okay I guess. Just…. tired."

Time machine. That's an interesting mod/upgrade. Having run through the whole set of prayers thirty times now, Mike has decided that it now verges on 'vain repetition."
"I woulld aalszo like a tiime macheen aand, aa wrrking enngine." Still no emotions, but that's almost sardonic phrasing. If only it didn't sound so much like the male version of GLADOS from Portal.

July blinks softly, and then chuckles, "I think a time machine upgrade is a little bit bigger than what you can hold in your body." she says, smiling, but then she blinks as she music start being played. And it comes from… within July's body. She lifts her shirt a bit to expose her belly, and then her flat belly opens a hole where she holds her cellphone and wallet in. She picks up her ringing cellphone and checks the message left. "Bah. She can't wait, can she?" she mutters to herself after reading the message she just got, while the hole on her belly seals shut again, seamless.

Rashmi cringes as the cellphone rings, burying her face in the pillow. "…Hate cell phones," her voice floats up from the sides of her head, shoulders shaking.

Right now Mike's vision is entirely the strange sense of 'surface' that vaguely resembles a radar sense. He sees INSIDE the pocket, and it would be disturbing if he had his emotional process running. Instead, "Oh, that'z innterezzting. Ii szhoulld szee if I caan get a glovve boxz insztalled."

July blinks softly, "What's interesting?" she asks, looking up from her cellphone, as she was writing a message, to Mike, not sure what he's talking about. "What is 'interesting'? My cellphone?" she asks, while pressing the button to send her message, and turns off the music, leaving it just for buzzing as she puts it back into her belly pocket. "It's turned off, Rashmi." she says, smiling.
Huh? Hmm? Bad player. No biscuit.

Rashmi continues to cringe for a moment, even after the reassurance. A few moments later, she sighs, slowly relaxing. "Sorry," she murmurs lifting her head from the pillow. "Just… I'm very tired. … …I think maybe I should go rest. Mike… Are you going to be all right?"

Mike would gesture but, cannot. "The oopenning you juzt made, Julyy. Sztorring things iinzide you rr boddy. Razmii, pleaze to stay where you arre. The mmachinne can heal you fazzter than you would inn your room. I alszo need to rest. My baaterry isz draining faszter than iit should."

July nods softly. She reaches a hand to gently brush the hair off Rashmi's face, and then smiles, "Alright. I'll let you two relax." she says softly, before standing up, "Nice to meet you, Mike, despite current situation." she chuckles gently, commenting on Mike's current situation. "I'll come back tomorrow to see how you're doing, alright?"

Rashmi nods quietly, burrowing under the blankets. "…All right… Just… there's nothing wrong with me that needs healing. I'm just… worn out, I guess. Thanks, July…"

"Thaat woulld be better. Haave a nize day, Jullyy."
Mike's voice is getting fainter too. Blasted battery. Or is it just mental fatigue?
July nods softly, and then she leaves, while stretching a bit from tiredness. Damn cops.

Four hours later

In the number two medbay, Mike Drakos looks like ten miles of very bad road rose up to meet him. His usually-shiny outer shell is badly dented and scratched, his face is … up and away from the part of his head where the sensor cluster and fuel line lives. His chest-plate is partly open, with a robot-arm sticking down inside. On swinging open the cover one would see a cylindrical motor-looking device where the lungs should be, a fuel tank where a heart might be, and a basketball sized sphere where the liver would be. All this would be shiny metal if it weren't for the reek of burned insulation where the smoke got out. The robot arm is plugged into the basketball, and a power gauge on the display reads '51%'.

Rashmi is, currently, sacked out on one of the other beds. Not *quite* the worse for wear as her friend (though, honestly, only Jono could match Mike's current lack of face) she nonetheless looks, even in sleep, overworked, overtired, and utterly exhausted.

And, naturally (as it's his job, anyway), Doc is watching over them. He's done what he could for those of us that are organic. Mechanic? Well, that's somewhat out of his expertise, we suppose, and so he's left well enough alone. Best not to touch anything and cause any worse damage than Mike's incurred. On the surface, or superficially. Who knows, and Doc isn't want to try his hand at that. He'l leave it to the professionals.

Speaking of, that's exactly what Doc's waiting for, too. He's seated not too far from the door, observing those on the beds between looks at clipboards, furious scribbling (not angry scribbling, but just really fast doctor chicken scratch scribbling that physicians are famous for!).

Tonight, Forge is taking a break from his Jet project to run a couple of errands. THe one that brings him here happens to involve refilling his First Aid kit. That's the problem with working around machines, you can never have enough gauze, liquid bandaid…sutures. With him he brings a rather military-looking plastic box, no doubt where all the bits and pieces he's about remove from the med bay go, "Evening Doc." There's a friendly smile, a nod to Rashmi, unconscious or not…and a sudden stop in the man's pace as he comes to a rather abrupt halt in front of Mike. He turns to the practitioner of the medical arts and raises an eyebrow rather high, "Is 'that' Mike?"

Doc glances towards the door as it opens, and he nods at Forge with as warm a smile as he can muster. Needless to say, he seems a bit on the tired side tonight. "Evening< Forge," he offers, looking back down at his clipboard, scribbling. At least, until Forge turns back to him and asks his question. He glances up at Forge, stares at him for a moment, then seems to realize something. "Oh, yes, that's him," he sets the clipboards down on a table near him, and moves to a stand, stuffing his pen back into his coat. "And while you're here, I really need you to look at him." He admits with a chuckle. "Mechanics are outside of my expertise, unfortunately."

Mike wakes up slightly. The voicebox unit is sitting (collar removed) on his throat, and his voice is especially electronic, sounding a bit like GLADOS but male and teenaged. If something can be said to sound 'teenaged' without cracking.
"Hello? I can hhear you but you''re too farr away to see."

Forge makes a disappointed sound and puts his box down, sliding it to a foot-traffic safe location, "I really need to get with Scott on things of this nature. I'm still out of the loop on school-side issues." It's probably as close to irritated as any has heard from the man in awhile, an irritation that isn't directed to anyone in particular. But, after all, it is a student. No someone's iPod. "What happened?" He begins to look over the readout of the machine MIke is attached to, "Hello Mike. It's Forge. Everything will be alright." He lifts that gloved hand to his chin and processes some information internally.

"I'm not entirely certain outside of that, but from what I've heard from other students, he was hit by some kind of EMP. I'd imagine this is bad for electronics," Doc offers. Y'think? Goes to show you how often he cares to ride in cars or anything. Then again, not like he's ever seen what happens during an EMP, so that's one area of expertise he doesn't exactly shine in. So he can only hope that Forge has an idea of what to do. Everything else potentially on the outside? Well, Forge only has to look to see if there's any more surface problems.

Mike would shrug if he could. "I wasz runningg baack fromm the chaapel to get baack in time fooor curfew. Szomething veery bright hiit aand I remembeer mud annd waking heeer thiisz morninng, Rashzmii said it waas Maagnetoo haavinng somme kiind of fiit."
His voice is, if you listen for that, rather emotionless, and if the readout can tell this, he's turned OFF a third of his main processor for some reason.

Forge sighs and rubs his fingers across his eyes. "Magneto." It's a singular statement, filled with a little bit of exasperation. "That's one of the reason everyone has shielded phones. I'll be sure to bring this 'tantrum' of his up to him the next time we meet." Ohhhh, Erik is going to get such a talking to!! "Buddy system 'Is' still in effect, no?" the man says dispassionately, "And that is why." He goes back to staring at the readouts and begins to type something out on a touch panel, "Imagine, if you will, Doctor, defibrillating a perfectly healthy human male who had just finished a marathon. 'That' is what EMP does to machines." No anger there, just fact. It's the world Forge lives in.

Now, THAT is definitely a way of talking that Doc understands. As soon as Forge describes it as such, Doc lets out a quiet 'ah..' of enlightenment, and he slowly moves back to his seat, picking the clipboards up again. He doesn't want to bother Forge any more than he has to, anyway, as the guy probably has a job ahead of him. He seems annoyed enough as it is.. "I understand now." Except, Doc figures, the person would die, where-as the machine could most certainly be fixed. Maybe this is one of those situations.

Mike's response is somewhat subdued, "I have no ezzcuse. Onlyy Rashmii goes out there wiith me aand she was busyy szo I allowed myy reaszon to be overridden by impaaitience. Which iiz not neceszarily an emotion, I haave learned."

Forge hmmms, looking data over, quiet for some time, "Well, what I can make sense of is that 'some' of these parts have the potential to both be 'here,' and 'not here' at the same time." Lay mens there. Mike speaks and Forge makes another noise, "Patience at your age is usually through a series unfortunate lessons. I'm just sorry to see you had to suffer that 10 fold." He rubs his chin, connecting up some dots, "Mike is the student that can mesh with other vehicles, right?" Forge gives Doc a look, "I 'might' have an idea. But it's nothing I'm willing to try until after he's stabilized and I've read his files."

Doc nods slightly at Forge. "I can give you access to Mike's file, but yes, you're correct. I don't think you'll learn too much more than you've already ascertained, but you might glean more from it than I did. I never suspected he'd be brought down here, so you can imagine that I was a bit at a loss," he admits with a helpless shrug.

Forge nods, "I can believe it. This, honestly, is more of a repair bay sort of thing. No offense Mike." He begins to type on the touch pad again, fingers moving quickly as he gets at home on the piece of equipment he was fortunate enough to have seen installed years ago. Photos, graphs, readouts, vitals appear in rapid succession the man's eyes glancing at each one before he gives the boy's structure a hard stare, as if expecting something to pop out any moment. Diagnosis time for the Maker.

"No offenze taken, szirr. Iif I haad accezz to aa repair baay thaat worked asz welll az this iit would be great."
As the readouts go on, different parts are explained, and the way that they don't really work right if restricted to standard 3-space. Some of those gears matchings are impossible without the rotation into other-space. The information on the main processor reveals two things about Mike that aren't obvious from first glance. First, he has a schematic, a rather improbable (in the sense that parts of it seem to describe breach-physics) diagram describing his body, the various parts, and the way they work together. The second is that he has a backup system for his brain, in the event of serious structural damage. A set of something resembling CDs deep inside that basketball, or rather, inside the thing that the basketball expands into.
The damage: the drive motor is bad. All the electrics are burned, since they all existed in 3-space. The sensor system is even worse. The main processor, probably just some fuses and basic wiring that could be gotten from the supply bin.

Well, Forge sees at least one standard part. Not that the others can't be figured out. But, as seeing is how this is a student and not a pocket calculator, Forge isn't about to go experimenting with out more information. The fuses and wires? Well…that's something he 'can' do with out worry of causing further damage, "Hold on Mike. I think I can stabilize you until I've had a chance to read the rest of your files." He nods to the Doc and runs off to get some parts from downstairs, "Should only be a moment."

Mike doesn't go anywhere in the interim. Naturally enough.

Rashmi stirs in her bed, eyes blinking slowly as her head rises. "Wh…? … ….Oh. Right," she mutters, scrubbing at one eye blearily. "…Who was that, Mike?"

"That wasz Forge," Mike answers calmly. "He caan fixz some of my brokenn. More thaan that iif he waaz nutzz like Miszter lame-naame."
Mike would be quite happy that Forge isn't nuts like Sinister if he were running emotions at the moment. But if he were running emotions he'd be terribly embarrassed about being naked in front of Rashmi (with his hood up and everything.)

"Oh… well that's good to hear," Rashmi replies, attempting a smile. "I guess it's a good thing he isn't, then. ..Nuts, I mean. Are you going to be all fixed soon?"

Mike's answer comes after a fairly long pause … "Dunno. I'm cuztom built. Haard to find spaarez."

An answer which freezes Rashmi in her tracks, head rising slowly to stare at where Mike's faceplate would normally be. "…But this is *Forge,* right? He can fix anything, so… there's really nothing at all to worry about…. *right?*"

In short order, Forge has resurfaced, carrying a small plastic case of sorts and a rather scientific set of welding goggles. It's a stiff jog that brings him back, he's not screwing around, "Alright. I'm back." Truth be told. It was just down the hallway. He leaves his crap all over the place below the first floor. He smiles over at Rashmi, "Awake too, I see." He leaves her chart alone, after all, Rashmi's in better hands than he may be able to offer. But he does add, "If you require anything, miss. Please ask."

Mike's answer is lost to the presence of the Maker. "I think szo," he says, noncommitally. He's pretty sure that if the guy could mcGuyver a jet out of a pair of panty-hose, a bin of copper tubing, and a jukebox, he could make ANYTHING. Of course, that might only be a rumor.

Rashmi blinks as the aforementioned Mr. Fixit himself returns to the Medbay, attempting a smile for his benefit. "Just fix my friend, sir," she says, her voice small. "…That's all I think I'd really like…"

Forge nods to Rashmi, "Don't worry about Mike. This machine he's connected to is something I'd trust my own life to." And he has. He pops open the small case and fishes out some parts. He pulls the goggles over his eyes — just what is it with the mechanic types and their goggles? He presses a button on the side, and the lenses glow a soft green, a small LED blinking on the side, "Ahhhh….there we go." Out comes a pair of tweezers, a small soldering iron, wire, and more. "What I will do, Mike," Forge starts, "Is the work I know will have a positive effect and then try some simulations down stairs before I commit to anything more…permanent?"

Mike emits a quiet hum for a moment, before saying in an only slightly electronic voice, "You're the master mechanic. I trust you."

Rashmi falls silent, fidgeting with the sheets but determined not to bother Forge at his efforts in repairing one of her best friends.

It takes a few minutes before he's ready to go. But, in short order, there's the soft 'whirr' of a portable pen-TIG, the smell of hot solder from a separate irons, and even some sparks as Forge makes a manual re-route path out of some wires, a paperclip, and bubblegum. Well. Not quite. OUt comes an old fuse, in goes a new one. But, it being Forge, it's hard to stop there. Before he knows it, he's doing what his mind is telling him to. A little drop of molten metal here, another there. Without saying a word, the man tightens one CPU, loosens another, tosses something, adds something else. It's a rather frenetic amount of movement for one so calm. Then…with out warning the man stops, "Well..maybe that helped."

And whatever it was that was shorting and draining Mike's battery is no longer doing so. The CPU movement … that's a very strange feeling for Mike, almost an out of body experience, and his voice says "oh that feels different" in an almost stereo-shift as it's accomplished. The really surprising thing for Mike (at least for the subconscious part of him that knows what's going on) is that it was accomplished without a full d-shift. When it's over, the part of him that's emotion is emulated on the chipset that his consciousness was running on before, and vice versa. And it feels … odd. Like his feelings are less likely to overwhelm him. A subtle thing, but welcome.

Forge steps off the quasi ladder he has to be on to work on Mike and his the floor with a *thump*. "Well, until I think of something else, that may have to suffice. Sorry, Mike. But you're a new system. Even us adults still learn on a curve. But I'll be back when I have enough time to ponder any further advancements." Translated…that means he'll walk out of the room, get back to his office, and then turn right around to try something else. And repeat. For the rest of the night….."Once I read your student File, I should be of more use." He dusts off his hands.

At least a half hour passes with Mike and Rashmi resting. Forge has finally gotten into reading schematics and is no longer running in every minute.

The Medbay is quiet, little surprise at this time of night. Rashmi, huddled under the sheets of one bed, her familiar spill of red hair pooling on the tile. Making use of one of Shi'ar's finest cybermedicine bays, Mike rests in another, still in the midst of repairs following his experience at the fringes of Magneto's displeasure.
Lights! Sirens! Laser beams! ACTION!

Magneto comes striding through the door into the med-bay, trailing a head of steam and two steel-wrapped, man-sized balls. "I thought I told you to adjust the security systems, McCoy!" snarls the Master of Magnetism, crushing ceiling-mounted stun guns as he speaks. "This is a medical facility, not a danger room!"

This rant would have been far more effective if Hank McCoy were actually in the room. As it is, Magneto comes to a stalking stop in the middle of space and glowers at its (near) emptiness. "Computer: code Lensherr A-111 QS." He grunts as the lights, sirens, laser beams and action spin into quiescence. "Damn fools, every one," he mutters, though exactly who those fools are is anyone's guess. Also, once the ruckus calms down, the steel balls unspool, revealing Chezlie, who is ambulatory, and Kael, who is not.

Kael has looked better in the past. At the moment, the aerokinetic's stomach is rather soaked with his own blood. Thankfully, his stomach was punctured. But it's still a hole that is bleeding. He also just looks like he got beat up real good.

<OOC> Magneto says, "Mike? When Mags spoke that code? He also gave off some sort of magnetic pulse. NOT another EMP."
Mike's not able to move (because some utterly random high magnetic field induced electrical surge seems to have destroyed much of the wiring harness of the electrical parts of his drive motor, along with his "normal world" senses, parts of his processor unit (currently showing signs of insane genius repairs by one Forge) and oh yeah, his eyes blew up. He's currently partly open on the medbay bed, with a trickle-charger hovering interestedly over the power inlet as the machine watching him tries to decide whether to give him more juice. When the magnetic pulse washes past him he emits an "oof" through his (McCoy variant design) vocal unit, which rests on his throat, and then murmurs an "oh, we must've said it thrice," before realizing he's SPEAKING. Oh, joy. Magnetic field has boosted the sensitivity on his voice unit.

Well, it's not quite an alarm clock, but the cacophony that heralds Magneto's entrance is enough to get Rashmi diving out of bed before she can even manage to open her eyes. Peeking up over the edge of her bed with wide, panic-stricken eyes. One doesn't have to be a telepath to discern her thoughts, currently running along the rails of (Ohgodohgodohgodohgodit'sMagneto what's he doing here HOW DID HE TURN ALL THAT STUFF OFF ohgodohgodohgodohgod)

Magneto glares around. Kael is deposited into one med-bed while Chezlie is escorted to another. A wave of his hand and the beds light up with telemetry: a distressing amount of Kael's is color-coded red. Magneto stares at it a moment, even as various items around the room start to move — drawers opening, doors unlocking, bottles floating onto a treatment cart that wheels itself to the foot of Kael's bed. "Miss Chezlie," he says, taking his helmet off and pointing it at a counter — it obediently flies over to said counter to rest there, "I am afraid that you will have to wait for treatment. This shouldn't take too long." He's paying no attention to either Rashmi nor Mike, both of whom are either well enough, or at least stable enough, to take care of themselves for the next few minutes.

Kael doesn't make a sound as he's put on the bed. But he does lay there rather rigid, as if his body is not wanting to move cause of the pain. Though the hang atop of the wound does grip just a bit.

This is an interesting quandary. Mike can "see" Magneto moving in the far edges of his perception-sense, which probably means that Magneto can FEEL him watching thanks to that odd power interaction thing. Kael, he "saw" for a moment as he passed through the radius, Chezlie, not at all.
"What happened to them?" Mike wonders in another unintentional out-loud. Perhaps switching his processors around DID make it a little to easy to talk. Thanks, Forge?

Rashmi's head rises slightly…. enough to make a credible variation of the old Kilroy doodle, at least, and Mike's unintentional question is supported by a meek, inquiring noise, and a nod of her head. This, at least, a safe enough question to throw her weight behind.

Magneto glances at the two of them — ah. Miss Eep and the Motorcycle Boy. "Sinister happened to them," he says, and he steps up beside Kael. "Take your hand off the wound, boy. It's time we saw how bad it is." The cart rolls up beside him, laden with everything he needs. In fact, he peels his gloves off and douses his hands in disinfectant. No sense killing the kid with infection when he's going to put so much effort into saving his life…

Kael moves his hand, putting it down to his side. There's a hole in his shirt, underneath would be the wound. Inflicted by a spike of sound.

"Couldn't be Sinister, he's too busy making playthings out of people weaker than he is. Has to be one of his victims following its program. Damnit. I'm sorry, the gain isn't adjusting right on this thing and everything I think too hard is coming out as speech. Which puppet was it? Ignore me if you have to please. This is embarrassing."
Mike isn't precisely _babbling_ but he's doing the next thing down the list.

Magneto will, indeed, ignore Mike, making a mental note to 'fix' his speech centre later. (Won't that be a joy?) Meanwhile, he leans over Kael and examines the wound — it's so convenient, being able to MRI someone and plug the results directly into one's own personal senses. "I'm going to give you a local anesthetic, Kael, and then I'll be doing surgery on you. This will not be comfortable." He turns to the cart and selects several items off it, pointing them toward Kael — and they soar over him, building themselves into a sort of bridge around his middle.

Rashmi, by contrast, remains as silent as a churchmouse, watching the de-helmeted Magneto closely. By the looks of it, it's the first time she's ever seen the infamous mutant bare-headed, and finds the lines of his face, the stark whiteness of his hair the object of terrified fascination; almost like picking out the details in a fancy European car, speeding toward a schoolbus. Possibly on fire.

Kael lets out groans of discomfort, and his legs writhe just slightly. But, he doesn't really have the energy to really do much else by be vocal.

Mike already figured out that Magneto was going to tamper with his body, or what he considers to be part of his body, and that's about as terrifying a thought to him as being grabbed by Sinister is to some of his friends. He makes a strong effort - in his humanoid body and without his engine running, he's really having to use his power in a way that taxes him on a profound level - and jams the slightly mud-clogged selector back DOWN to the original expected target level.
"testing," he mutters. Good. It's stopped. "Got it. Sir? Why are you doing surgery directly instead of letting the medbay do it?" That's possibly a silly question, since Magneto was headmaster here once, he SHOULD know what they can do, but that's no guarantee.

Magneto actually answers that last question — with a snort. "I'm not. I'm building a microsurgery suite suited to young Kael's personal biology." He turns his head as the 'bridge' around Kael's middle continues to shift and grow. Inside the arch, needles protrude and give Kael the first dose of anesthetic.

Now that he's looking around, he actually sees everyone else in the room and one white eyebrow arches. "What an interesting configuration you have gotten yourself into, Mr. Drakos. What happened?"

Rashmi remains silent, behind her bed and playing Reverse Ostrich, a role she'd become rather adept at following the discovery of her mutant abilities; if nobody can hear you and you don't call attention to yourself, you won't matter enough to be *paid* attention to.
Kael lets out another groan before he just grits his teeth. If he can't feel the pain as much, then he can be silent for a bit. To let Magneto do his work.

Oh, how to say this. Speak truth to power? Sure, but how to do it. Especially since it isn't CERTAIN that it was Magneto's EMP surge. It might've been someone else's. Mike's energy field pulsates slightly as a wave of delayed fatigue hits after doing that tweak to the voicebox. He waits for it to steady again.
"I was running back from the chapel to the school to be inside by curfew. Something very bright happened. That would have been Tuesday, just before 9pm. I woke up here. Forge has been making repairs, so there's some good came of whatever it was. I've learned more about how I work from his muttering and tweaking."

Magneto turns his head to study Kael; he waves his fingers, and slender, tape-like tentacles emerge from the bridge. They snake under Kael's form. He will feel a sharp pain near his spine, and then a blessed numbness will spread over his lower body. The rest of the bridge will crimp inwards to seal off the surgical site from the outside air. "Bright? And Tuesday. I see." And Magneto files away a factoid: Mike is vulnerable to EMP events. "Miss Rashmi, I doubt that your current posture is doing anything for your recovery. I suggest that you get back into bed."

Rashmi's mouth opens, all set to deliver the first thought to come into her mind… and snaps shut as the rest of her consciousness revolts against it. Meekly, she crawls back into bed, looping the sheets over her, leaving only her eyes visible. That the entire arrangement is quivering faintly, not something she's able to control. Clearly, the redhead simply does not do well in Magneto's presence.

Kael lets out a soft breath at the numbness, and he just lays still as Mags does his work. Or has things do his work for him.

Mike is vaguely disappointed. The veneer of courtesy is only a veneer after all. Well, he won't let it lower his opinion. Right?
"Sir? How is Kael doing now? He had some kind of slippery surface around his fist, what was that?"

"He had blood on his fist, Mr. Drakos. He was stabbed in the stomach. I am making repairs to his body as we speak." Magneto levels a frown at Mike, sparing him more attention, now that the surgical device is mostly completed. "You did… I see. You have been blinded." He sweeps across the room, passing the foot of Rashmi's bed to do so, though he doesn't so much as twitch in her direction. "Bright… and Tuesday. You aren't armored against an EMP, boy. Why not?"

Rashmi's eyes track Magneto's movements carefully… veeery carefully. Perhaps it's to her credit that her powers aren't in evidence… Shocked out of a fitful sleep by sirens and alarms, watching Magneto stride about the Medbay as though he'd never worked anywhere else, terrified for her life *again,* it'd be tempting to give that white-crowned head a good knock… Fortunately, she still has that much control, so nary a peep is heard as he passes by. Coccooned in hospital-issue sheets, the redhead simply watches, silent and relatively still.

"I'm not really sure, Sir. I never thought about the need for it when I was originally fantasizing about the ideal car. Except for the color, most of my physical features are a composite of that fantasy and the need to be humanoid. It was the strongest image I could hold when my father called me back."
He thinks about Kael, stabbed.
That's so wrong, Kael is like a wolf puppy, so fierce but simultaneously teeth-achingly cute. Why would anyone do that? Mike murmurs out loud, "… so that's what blood scans like. Why did whoever it was stab Kael? What does Mr. Ludicrous-name get from making people into assholes? I'm sorry, sir. Uhm. Making them into stereotypical thug lackeys?"

Magneto sorts through the information Mike gives him and grunts. "I will strongly suggest that you improve on your design, primarily by not allowing your shell," he taps the nearest piece with a finger, "to be the prime source of protection. If you are within my vicinity, such events will happen — and that was not the strongest event I could produce." No, Mike. He is not apologizing to you. A warning is all you get.

He paces back to Kael's bed and adjusts a few things — Kael may be getting a crawling feeling in his gut, now, from where the microsurgery tool is tracking along the stab line. Then he goes to Chezlie, who has, startlingly enough, fallen asleep. (Shock will do that.) He looks up at the bed monitors and makes a few adjustments there, also — but otherwise, he leaves Chezlie to sleep.

Kael writhes just a bit as he feels the crawling feeling. Oh that's going to make him have some strange dreams. Other than that, he's laying rather still on the bed.

"Um…" Rashmi speaks! "Sir…. why *does* Mr. Sinister do what he does…? I mean…. what could you get out of taking people away and… messing with who they are?"

Mike's energy field twitches with that finger-poke. "Of course, sir. I was already thinking about that."
Yeah, what DOES make Sinister tick, besides the clockwork he's installed to replace his heart, in a totally gratuitous display of victorian-era misattribution of the function of organs.

Magneto says, without turning away from what he's doing to Chezlie's monitors, "Sinister is a monster." He finishes, and when he does turn around, his eyes are almost burning with rage. "He has no regard — none — for anyone save himself. People — humans, mutants, aliens, whatever — are all toys, to be picked up and played with, bred together, and altered to his whim, whenever and wherever he pleases. He regards the whole race of mutants as his breeding stock in his never-ending search for the perfect mutant." The last two words are said with plain scorn. "Your companions were taken because he decided he needed new tools. A screwdriver, a hammer, a cold chisel… simple tools, to be used. He'll discard them when he's finished with them."

Silence reigns from within the cocoon atop Rashmi's bed, as the redhead digests these words. "…But he can be stopped, right…? I mean… It sounds like he's done all this before, and never gotten away with it… so…. how'd they do it?"

Mike's immediate thought is, there has to be someone stronger, obviously, or some specific weakness. He doesn't say anything, but his attention is clearly focussed now. The readout above his head indicates his main processor is running faster.

Magneto gives Rashmi a shuttered stare. "What makes you assume that he hasn't gotten away with it?" He stalks across the room and things rattle on the treatment cart as he passes. "He has gotten away with it, more times and in more ways than any of us know." A sudden, vicious twist of a smile appears on his face. "Ask your headmaster about him. Beating Sinister is the exception — not the rule."

The pile of sheets shrinks backward as Magneto approaches, the girl within, presumably, listening to the elder mutant's diatribe as much because it's a smart idea as because he's answering her question. There's silence, for a time, but eventually it's the smirk that causes her to shake off the sheets covering her head, a contrasting frown on her own face. "…Rules change, sir," she says, just loud enough to be heard. "…And we want our friends back."

Mike's primary processor unit is running even faster now. Almost at 40% recruitment of the compute bank, 30% of the associative nodes, and easily a terabyte of memory are engaged in some sort of analysis, if one could read the Shi'ar notations on the display. Which, apparently, Forge could, as he was USING the thing earlier. When his voice comes, it's rather distant, and faintly echoey. "What were the parameters of the previous successes? Is there an identifiable resource which manifests one of Sinister's weaknesses?" The tone of the voice is completely unlike Mike's polite self, and not much like his relaxed-at-school self either.
Note: this is Mike's subconscious, the part that can conceptualize and create machinery out of nothing.

Magneto's gaze leaves Rashmi and returns to Mike, and he ends up pacing in that direction. "Parameters." He pauses for a few moments, crossing his arms and apparently glaring at the boy; if he had a Shi'ar med-bed showing readings over his head, they'd be similar to Mike's. "He's confident to the point of over-confidence. He's obsessed with the Summers and Grey lineages. His minions have all of the usual quirks and failings you'd expect of people who work for someone smart so they won't have to think."

He snorts. "On the other hand, he's an acknowledged mastermind with a complete competency in cloning technology. Kill him and he'll pop up somewhere else. Kill his minions and THEY'LL pop up somewhere else. His plans are well laid and some have been more than a century in the making. There are no simple solutions to Sinister — he's warded himself against them. And against most of the not-so-simple solutions. And he LEARNS."

"…Then the best way to approach the solution would be to learn *what* his plan is," Rashmi murmurs to herself, eyes dropping, the bulk of her attention clearly beginning to wander away from the here and now. "…Jordan went to that house to get something… notes? Documents? *Damn* it, I can't remember… Something like that… but what else? What would he need *those* five for?"

Kael clenches his teeth a bit more, his hands flexing a bit. Apparently, he's bottling something up. Maybe it's the fact HE HAS SOMETHING IN HIS STOMACH!

Mike's strange analysis responds. "There are solutions. Triggering the sun to nova will delete him, but it will also delete the embed and therefore should be avoided except as last resort. Beating him at his own game would require the use of temporal or crosstemporal technologies to develop equivalent technologies to offset his advantage. Optimally, reverting his minions and corrupting his clones so that he is either less generally dangerous, or beneficial to popultion at large. Alternately, use of temporal technologies to implant weaknesses. Do not recommend attempted temporal attack, as this is likely to backfire due to entropic weighting of timeline. Exploit weakness afterwards. If no attempt to beat him at his own game, then thwarting him is problematic."
There's a momentary pause. "Working. Query analysis complete. The use of Xavier Institute members is 90% probable lure to acquire Summers."

Magneto's attention is focused on Mike… at least until Kael makes that little sound between his teeth. Yes, the one he thought he didn't make. Magneto gives Mike one last stare, then returns to Kael's bedside and checks the surgery unit. "Finishing the last stitches… now." He looks back across the room as the machine cleans and disinfects the outside of Kael's stab wound and applies a waterproof bandage over it. "He plans in layers," he says. "If the lure for Summers does not work, there will be another goal. There are likely sub-goals attached to what he has each of his captives doing. For instance, the one today was breaking into a pharmacy. Nathaniel Essex is a doctor — he has legitimate means of acquiring just about any drug he needs. Why would he point one of his tools at a pharmacy? Is there something special about that pharmacy… or was he laying a trap for someone — or several someones?" He waves a hand at the room. "You are not accounting for enough variables, Mr. Drakos. You do not have enough information to conceive of where to look for the variables you do need."

Kael opens his eyes, hazel ones burning with a bit of anger at Magneto before he looks down at his stomach. This is where Kael just stares for a moment or so. And says, "… Cool." Then he realizes… That's been wriggling in his body and healing him and he closes his eyes. "And very nasty."

Rashmi looks up, blanching at Mike's analysis, eyes widening. "….Besides, um, beating him at his own game…? That's sort of stupid, Mike… I mean, what's the point of stopping his plans if we have to act like him to do it? No… no…" Looking back down, she tries to snatch at the thoughts flashing past, multiple lines of inquiry a difficult thing to concentrate on. "….If you're right and he plans in layers… then there's also something important about the people he picked… I mean, Jono and Skyler and Brian he had before… but he didn't go after Lorna this time. That *means* something, I *know* it does. ….Jordan, he made it so he could walk through walls and stuff…. phasing, he kept going on about…. Like Ms. Pryde?" As Kael speaks up, Rashmi's head snaps up, eyes wide and bright. Hopping off her bed, she pelts toward the Magneto-brand surgery unit. "Kael! You're okay!!"

Mike answers Magneto in a bland voice. "Use of multitasking for different goals is obvious efficiency. Query was specific to use of Xavier Institute members. Additional probabilities: convenience of acquisition, sadistic enjoyment of long term torture, application of specific genetic traits especially including omniadaptive DNA copying. Completeness of analysis is based only on information at hand, and goal to stop Sinister. Provide complete data if possible, or more complete data if not, but warning: Forge's next upgrade will make it impossible for me to operate in this mode directly, and that upgrade will be necessary for motor control to be restored once engine function is restored. Rashmi:: It is not necessary to become a twisted sick fuck like him in order to acquire greater mastery of his technologies. However, if temporal operation is not feasible, then analysis of his strengths shows that he may be unfamiliar with or incapable of using metaphysical systems of attack. Ergo: arrange a deus ex machina."

Yeah, Mike's subconscious is good at coming up with whole-cloth fabrications of new stuff, but as you've doubtless seen, it's sometimes lacking in the fine details. Like, a voice. Healing. EMP protection.

Magneto steps away from Kael's bedside to make room for Rashmi; he takes the remains of the surgery unit with him. "Torture is secondary to tertiary; Sinister doesn't care enough about tools to actively torture them, in most situations. As for his choice in captives… of course, most of the people he has were chosen for the task at hand. Do not assume that all were; one or more may have fallen into his hands unplanned, and he made adjustments as required. He is capable of that, too."

He stalks to where he can see Mike, Kael and Rashmi without having to turn his whole body and calls his helmet to him. The surgery machine is sent to sit on the counter in its place. "Deus ex machina, however…" He peers at Mike. "It may not be practicable in the near future to eliminate Sinister, but it is possible to make his operation so expensive that he is forced to retool it. This slows him and ameliorates his negative effects…" His eyes go distant as he chases those ideas off into the wild blue yonder.

Kael looks over at Rashmi as she just… appears at his side. And the aerokinetic, up close, looks really tired. "Yeah… I… think so." He blinks a bit, running a hand gingerly over the bandage and stitches before he looks over at Magneto. "…Thank you."

As soon as the surgery unit is pulled away from over Kael, Rashmi bends down to throw a tight hug around his shoulders. "Oh thank God, I'm so glad…" Looking up and over her shoulder at Magneto, she seems to remember *who* it was that got her chewing on these lines of thought earlier. At least, if slight paling to her cheeks as the helmet is replaced, seems to say as much. "Thank you, sir…. Um…. Can I… Can I ask you a question, if it's all right…?"

Mike does say one more thing, without the apologetic glance at Rashmi that would be there if he could. "If you do manage to immamentize the eschaton, please to try to do so in a fashion that returns our friends to us in a healable state. Jonothon Starsmore was the first friend we had at this school, and none of the others deserve to be made something they don't want to be."
Of course in the best of possible worlds, any positive changes might be kept. Like Jono having his face back.
And at that point, something in Mike's processor says, "Backup starting in 10 seconds. Shutting down secondary consciousness processes."

Magneto says, "Starsmore is almost impossible to kill. Even for Sinister, even for me. We won't worry about him. The others…" His eyes narrow. Then he realizes that Rashmi asked a question. "You may ask me anything, Miss Rashmi. I reserve the right to not answer, of course."

Kael erks at the tight hug before he smiles a bit, hugging her back. "You can't keep me down for long." He looks over at Magneto and asks, "Do you think… I'm well enough to head up to my room? I… would rather sleep in my own bed." With the way he's talking, there's also something else that he wants to have. But, he doesn't want to say it.

Rashmi bobs her head, swallowing nervously. "Um… I just wanted to know, sir… um… I mean, I grew up in New York City, so…. I just wanted to know… Why? Why did you keep attacking, for so many years…?"

Magneto looks at all three young people again. Mike has done… whatever it is robot boys do when they're in the middle of recovery. He can check on him later. As for the other two… "New York has the United Nations, young Rashmi, and a more corrupt body of useless layabouts was never invented." Which is nowhere near all of the truth, or even a significant portion, but it should give her enough to chew on for the time being.

As for Kael… "You, young man, have fresh stitches, and you are not walking anywhere. However, you may sleep in your own bed." The 'tentacles' reappear and Kael floats off the bed. "Show me the way, and I'll take you there."

The Headmaster hadn't received word about the incident until after the fact, but he got to the mansion as fast as he could from New York City. The X-Man runs immediately to the Medbay as soon as he can, so he can see…Magneto, holding a student in 'tentacles'… Cyclops looks to Magneto with a questioning look. "I heard a bit of what happened." He says, looking to everyone in the room.

Kael looks over at Magneto, and is about to say something when Scott comes into the room and his mouth just hangs open a bit. It slowly closes before he mutters, loud enough for Rashmi to hear. "I… think I'll sleep here tonight." He gulps a bit and then says, "Sorry for not telling you sooner, sir. But…" He was dying.

Rashmi, for her part, clams *right* back up again, but for very different reasons. Of Magneto, the girl is terrified, but the Headmaster is Authority at the school, and one does not even chance drawing the ire of Authority unless specifically told to speak. So, she simply clasps her hands in front of her, tries impossibly to will herself invisible, and says nothing.

On the other hand, Magneto has no qualms about confronting 'Authority'. He crosses his arms and the room temperature drops a metaphorical ten degrees. "Summers. You show up at last. Tell me, Mr. Headmaster: is it your policy to be absent for so long that Sinister has had the opportunity to make not one, but two separate attacks on the students? And those are just the ones I know about!"

"Absent? I go out into the city, to try and get something to help Mike, and you have the nerve to ask me that?" Scott's…eyes can't help but shine more energy from behind his lenses than they do normally. Scott hasn't the time, nor the inclination to take Magneto's harsh words. "You want me to lockdown the school again and have more than a hundred students go into revolt over us not doing anything again? I have students, friends out there being nothing more than puppets for that monster, kids constantly down my throat saying I am not doing enough to help their friends. Trying to find out what hole Sinister's hiding in is enough of a challenge in of itself."

Kael gulps a bit. He isn't feeling too safe in those metal tentacles that Magneto has him in. He looks down at Rashmi, a bit of fear in the aerokinetic's eyes as he just stays silent now. His mouth staying quiet while these two yell and argue.

Rashmi returns Kael's gaze, eyes wide. As unobtrusively as it's possible to do, she edges closer to the aerokinetic, mini-step by ministep, glancing all around her to make sure she doesn't touch anything that could possibly make the *slightest* noise.

Kael doesn't have too long to feel uncomfortable; the tentacles drop, bouncing him on the bed, then fall away, pouring off the edges. The metal flows around Rashmi's feet, avoiding her.

"Help young Drakos? He was struck by an EMP! His design is faulty and I have told him as much! HE designs himself! Did you know that much?!" He's leaning forward, glaring. "I was in New York myself, earlier this evening, and imagine my surprise to find three wounded students in the aftermath of a Sinister attack! Shatterstar disappeared on his own errand, but the other two are HERE." He sweeps one hand out and the lights over Chezlie's bed go on like a Christmas tree. "Miss Chezlie has a broken shoulder!" Another wave and the lights over Kael go nuts. "Young Kael was stabbed and almost bled to death! AND WHERE WERE YOU?!"

"You don't think I know that?! I know vehicles, I can help fix him." Scott takes a deep breath, glaring at Magneto. "I'm not going to indulge your bullshit." Gasp, a curse word. "If you want to go up on a cross and make me look like the betrayer, go right ahead, but you look at any of those students, they know you, and they know what you do." There's no question there was already tension between Scott and Magneto, and right now if this wasn't a medbay, Scott would take off his glasses and give Magneto a good look.

Kael lets out a grunt, but it's a very short one before he tries to make the covers allow him to disappear. Sorry, Rashmi. But, Kael's frightened at the moment. Every man (and woman) for himself! Though he does let out a hiss of pain as he stretches the stitches slightly. "… Ow." A very quiet word from the blanket.

Rashmi can't dive under blankets without making a fuss… so she simply throws an envious glare at Kael, and stands there… still practicing her invisibility… under…. wildly flickering…. bright white lights…. so, probably not really all that successful, but she can't be faulted for effort.

"What these students know, Summers, is that when they needed you, you weren't there for them… but I WAS." Magneto knows absolutely that Cyclops wants to smack him around — but what sort of example would that provide? "I don't have to 'make' you look like anything. You're doing a perfectly adequate job on yourself."

The Headmaster breathes through his nose calmly. "Fine, you win old man." He says before starting to take his leave, he's had enough of this crap, and the students in the medbay certainly don't need to elevate their blood pressures any higher right now. And honestly, he's just catching the short end of every single stick in this Sinister situation. Something in this basement is going to get broken on the way to the war room. Average drive time for a car to get from Manhattan to Westchester: 45 minutes, Scott's time: 30. And still it was not fast enough. The question he really wants to ask: Where were the other X-Men?

At the words of Magnus, Kael goes silent for a bit before he sits up. Slowly. He gulps a bit, shaking slightly before he pulls the blanket down. He's biting his bottom lip slightly as he says. Loud enough for the two adults to hear. "Mr. Summers has done more for me at this school than any other teacher. He's the one who well… first helped gave me confidence for my powers." He looks at
Rashmi, then back at the adults. Gulping a bit more before he says with a shakey voice. "And… he can't be everywhere at once." He bites his lip a bit more before he then just shuts up and looks down at the ground.

Rashmi glances down at Kael, nodding once, then looking back up. "Um…. Headmaster…? Actually I… Wanted to tell you a couple things… If it's… y'know… okay… Just… Maybe it'll help a little…?"

Magneto glares at Summers' retreating back. He doesn't feel like he's won. But before he can say anything, Kael pipes up. His lip curls as Kael talks; pure frustration. And then Rashmi almost says something, and no, he can't help himself. "Just tell him, girl. Don't beat around the bloody bush. If the information is useful, he needed it yesterday."

Not only will Magneto confront Authority, he'll confront Non-Authority. Egalitarian, what?

Cyclops stops as soon as Kael says something, he hangs his head slightly, the only one to know it would most likely be Magneto himself. "It's perfectly fine right now, Rashmi." His voice is back to his grave, dead-pan inflection. He really wants to say how much Kael's words touch him. But he's not in the best of places right now. As if he hadn't already felt that he let down the abductees, he now feels like he let down the victims. But of course, in true Scott fashion, he doesn't show much more than a smidgeon of that emotion.

Kael falls silent as he sways a bit on his bed. "Nngh…" He thuds on his side, the blanket just barely half covering him as the air manipulator can't really stay awake any longer. Though as a bodily reflex, he curls up just slightly. Hopefully someone'll let Max know where he is.

Rashmi glances at Magneto, then Kael. "Um… Yeah but… I think Kael really, really needs to get some rest, now… Heal up and all that. Besides, it's… kind of a long story. It was a really long day, after all… Besides, um, I don't want to bore Mr. Magneto any more than I have to, so… maybe I could subtly hint that I talk to you somewhere else, Headmaster sir?"

Magneto's lip continues to curl. "Fine. Talk to each other. I am going out to look for Sinister." Not that he's had any luck so far…

The cape swirls dramatically (that's what it's there for) and Magneto leaves, trailing steam. He still wants to talk to Scott Summers — about other topics. But right now is a really bad time, so.

"Alright, then. Come to the War Room." Scott tells Rashmi, before heading that way himself, before he turns and looks to Kael for a second, and lets out a small sigh as he sees one of his own training squad sitting in the medbay, nursing a wound that could have killed him. All that, before he turns around again.

Rashmi pauses to tuck the sheets over Kael, then follows Scott out of Medical, frowning quietly at the vapor trail left by the elder mutant. "…Don't listen to him, sir," she says, a bit into the walk. "Mike wouldn't even *need* Forge's help, if it wasn't for him… besides. You've got like over a hundred kids to look after… Like Kael said, you can't be everywhere, right…?"

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