Players: Magneto and Rashmi
Summary: Magneto has learned about the Carmen Flores killing, and consults with Rashmi about what to do about it, among other topics.
Date: February 17, 2011
Log Title: About Miss Flores
**Rating: G **
NYC - Genoshan Embassy
The neo-classical building was built to the style of the late 1800's and is one of the few buildings in mutant town that resembles old New York Architecture. The facade is colored and textured like high-grade marble, but is actually made of steel. Inside there is a large foyer with a sweeping staircase that leads the second floor where many doors lead off to public offices (such as taking applications for emigrating to Genosha). The Embassy is complete with a medical facility and Grand Ballroom, where official functions occur.
Magneto is coming down the main stairs, cloak billowing, just as a certain redhead is coming in through the main doors. Ice blue eyes glint from within the shadow of the helmet. "Miss Franklin. How good to see you. How are you?" He steps down onto the floor of the foyer and several of the staff seem to wake up from watching him, scurrying off to their duties. Magneto normally wears a three-piece suit in the Embassy during 'working' hours. It's not the best of signs that he's not doing so now.
Rashmi blinks sharply as her name is spoken… few things, after all, can freeze any intelligent person in their tracks quite like the voice of Magneto in full costume. Straightening, she turns her attention toward the stairs. "Um… yes, sir? …Oh! Papi wanted to make sure it's okay to come by next weekend, to thank you in person."
Magneto's turn to blink. "Whyever would he wish to thank me? I do not recall doing anything that would warrant such a response." He pauses near Rashmi. "I am interested, however, in how you are doing. I have not had the opportunity to ask, since the events in Africa. That you are here, I take as a good, though not definitive, sign."
Rashmi's cheeks grow ashen as Africa is mentioned, her gaze dropping to the floor, one hand coming up to scratch her startlingly short pixie-cut hair at the neckline. "…Um… he wanted to thank you personally for helping bring me home, sir…? And… well… I'm doing better. You know… good days and bad…"
Magneto's eyes glitter, watching Rashmi's response. Both hands flex. His tone is normal, however, as he says, "I am very much a minority player in those events. You may tell your father that he does not have to put himself out; I consider you to be a member of the Embassy in good standing, and to assist you is my duty." He glances at the super-short hair. "And my privilege." He returns his attention to Rashmi's face. "Meanwhile, thank you for coming. I would have a word with you on a matter concerning Mutant Town."
Rashmi bobs her head slightly. "Maybe, sir… but… Mami and Papi were terrified, when they'd heard. And when I came home… well, it's Papi, sir," she finishes lamely. "He wants to thank you personally." As the words 'Mutant Town' register, some of the tension leaves her shoulders. "Oh… Carmen, you mean?"
Magneto bows his head. "Then your father may do so, if that is his wish. Please convey to him that next weekend is fine. And yes, the topic I wish to bring up with you is Miss Flores. I received a message from Bruce about the matter, and in the interests of all concerned, I believe I should touch base with you." He gestures. "Shall we repair to a meeting room?"
Rashmi nods slowly, falling into step beside Magneto. "I've spoken to Bruce too, sir, not long ago. …I just hope I can get some headway before the week is up. His heart may be in the right place, sir, but his methods are dangerous to a lot of mutants here."
"Dangerous? I would say that they are exemplary of the sorts of consequences that encultured disrespect brings upon bigots who try to ply their trade." Magneto's own opinions are far closer to Bruce's than they are to Rashmi's… as Rashmi has cause to know. "However, I do agree that using a howitzer on a hamster may not be the best use of our resources." He waves open the meeting room door ahead of them. "And this, of course, is where you come in. How have your efforts been proceeding?"
"Maybe, sir," Rashmi says, letting out a breath and taking the tones of one who knows the argument's lost regardless, "but what happens when the situation escalates? I mean the last thing we want is *another* Mutant Town war… anyway. I go to the Precinct tomorrow, sir. If I can't talk them into launching an investigation?" The redhead shrugs a shoulder, running a hand through her hair. "Then I be a loud and noisy activist. After that, I get Goodman, Lieber, Kurtzberg & Holliway involved. Their specialty is superhuman law, after all."
Magneto enters the meeting room in a swash of cloak. The lights come up and the computer screens come alive around him. As they cycle through their warm-up routines, he turns back to Rashmi. "Isn't avoiding an escalation the point of not using howitzers? In any case, yes, another war would be counterproductive. Using the law would, in my opinion, be a more permanent solution to the current problem." Screens bloom into life as the computers finish waking up. "Have you considered using my name in your efforts? I give leave for you to do so, as you see fit."
Rashmi's eyes flick over the screens as they brighten in sequence, chewing idly in her bottom lip. "Perhaps, sir… but in what capacity? I mean, I *could* go with 'do what I say or Magneto's going to flatten you,' except that wouldn't be me. Does she have dual citizenship? Probably could make a case that way… or if she was on the Embassy staff." An eyebrow twitches upward, and a trace of actual humor shines through. "After all, then it'd be your duty to get involved, sir."
Magneto bows his head again. "Indeed. It would. And I do so love doing my duty." There's a certain dark humor running through his tone. "However, Miss Flores was not Embassy staff, and to the best of my knowledge, had not applied for Genoshan citizenship. I have asked the emigration office to check through their applications for her and for any family members." He glances at a screen and frowns at it; it flickers and ends up displaying a map of Mutant Town. "I have been considering giving pre-emptive Genoshan citizenship to any and all mutants. Miss Flores was definitely that."
"Yes, she was," Rashmi murmurs, bowing her head. "I went to Nowhere, to talk to Bruce, and ended up asking everyone to say something about her. …I think I would have really liked her, had I known her."
Magneto regards Rashmi for a moment. Behind him, news blits regarding Carmen Flores' death appear all around. "I think there are a large number of persons in the world who we would like, had we the time and opportunity to know them. There are also large numbers of persons who we would prefer to never to have to deal with. Shall we concentrate on maing this society one where the former are encouraged and the latter discouraged?" He looks away toward the screens. "Do you have a plan, beyond going to the precinct?"
"Aside from doing everything I can to reason, shame, or demand that an investigation get underway? Not… really," Rashmi admits. "Mostly I just want to make it clear that while I'm being reasonable, it's only because everyone *else* in the precinct doesn't want to take Options B. And who knows? It may even end up that it was simply a stupid and horrible mistake, rather than a mistake of horrible stupidity. I'm not holding out a *lot* of hope, after that 'redeem your people' crack, but."
"Have you considered using that against them? After all, Miss Flores' death means that the police need to redeem *their* actions." Magneto crosses his arms. "High ground, Miss Franklin. Which reminds me: what witnesses were there to the events? Are there video records, for instance?"
"Bruce gave me everything he had." Settling back in her chair, Rashmi scrubs her face, sighing between her hands. "The cruiser's license number, which I can bully the station into coming up with the names of the officers in question, and a bullet. From Bruce's body. And the man himself as a witness. The only worry with *that* is, he's wanted for a couple dozen counts of destruction of public and private property, assault, battery, obsctruction of justice… I think he's not wanted for being an international terrorist, but *that* probably only because he doesn't take his show on the road."
Magneto turns his head to look at Rashmi. He knows a few things about Bruce that she doesn't… and which he won't enlighten her on. "The license plate of the car is something that we can check independently, to discover which precinct it is registered to. The precinct itself will have the schedules of the officers who were assigned that car at the time in question. I do think that if we choose to go law-abiding on this situation, we should be sure to cross all our t's and dot all our i's."
"Oh, yes, sir," comes Rashmi's reply, "I agree… thanks for thinking of that, too…" Pausing, she shakes her head, taking a deep breath. "…Sorry, sir… I guess you could say I'm not at my best at the moment. I *should* have thought of that…"
"I understand, Miss Franklin. You've been under some pressure of late, and I gather that you are taking on this particular task by yourself. Please, be sure to take advantage of the resources of the Embassy. Miss Flores's death is a situation which concerns me, and therefore, which concerns the Embassy; you are within your rights to delegate as you see fit. AND…" he leans on that 'and', "I will insist you do so. For the sake of Miss Flores, as well as yourself."
Rashmi nods her head quietly. "I'll remember that, sir," she murmurs. "It's not that I'm not up to it, just… lots of my mind gets… occupied, sometimes. Hard to shut it out when it starts. Thanks for not mentioning my hair, by the way."
"Of course your mind becomes occupied. That is the natural result of the events of the last several weeks. It takes time, and other events, to set those events in perspective. That is another reason why you should take advantage of the Embassy staff to assist you in this effort. Their heads are not… occupied, the same way yours is. They will think of different approaches, because of this. And that, too, is an advantage."
Magneto then smiles a thin smile. "As for your hair… it is an unusual choice of style, but I must say that a lady has the right look splendid regardless, and you most certainly do."
Rashmi looks up, the corners of her mouth twisting relatively upward in return. "Thanks, sir… but you didn't ask. That's what I'm thanking you for. You didn't ask, so I didn't have to stop and remember and make it all awkward, you know? I'm still getting used to it like this, my neck's used to all the weight."
Magneto considers for a long moment, and then he takes his helmet off. A yellow swash of healing bruise marks his face. "Sometimes, the weight of a question is more than one can bear. And if there is an alternative? There is no reason, to my way of thinking, to bear that weight until such a time as one wishes to take it up." He sets the helmet on the meeting table. "Your new look is, as I mentioned, unusual. But I was serious when I said that you look splendid. I believe that is an innate trait of you, and quite independent of your hair."
Rashmi looks up, eyes lighting on the bruise momentarily, then drifting up to look the Master of Magnetism full in the face. "He didn't scare me, you know," she whispers. "His gun scared me, yeah… the cane scared me… but not him. How could he, you know? I've argued at top volume with *Magneto,*" she says, looking like she thinks she should attempt to laugh, but seeing little point in faking it that thoroughly. "And there was that whole Limbo hanging-in-a-cage-over-a-lake-of-fire thing… Hard to top, you know?"
Magneto rolls a shoulder. "As jumped-up warlords go, he was a puling child." Contempt rolls off him in a wave. "Cheap guns, cheap help, cheap theatrics… the most amazing thing about him was that he lasted as long as he did." His attention focuses on Rashmi's face. "You were right to not fear him." Amusement touches his eyes and the corner of his mouth. "For the reasons you have stated. I do appreciate ranking above Limbo and a lake of fire, however."
"Well," Rashmi manages, summoning up another attempt at humor, "If I'd been falling *into* the fire, it'd probably be different… but… there's a special kind of concern when you realize you might just be waking your, um… temper, sir…"
Magneto raises an eyebrow, the humor still lurking in his face. "Yes, I can imagine. I have cultivated the accompanying reputation for that exact reason." He glances again at screens. "You are a brave young woman, Rashmi Franklin. Further, you back your bravery with intelligence. It is an effective combination."
"Thank you, sir," Rashmi says quietly. I mean, really, thank you… It's nice to hear those kinds of things sometimes… Um… What *are* you looking up anyway, if I can ask?"
"At the moment? I'm looking for all references to the incident on the 'net. I'll set some experts on it later, but for now, I'd like to know if this goes further than the news. If, for instance, the individual policemen have written about it." Magneto steeples his fingers. "The amazing thing about secrets: most people cannot keep them. But telling them to the internet *feels* like keeping them."
Rashmi chuckles, levering herself up from her chair. "That is kind of funny, actually… Let me know if you find anything, sir? I'd really like to stay, but, it's getting late and I have training in the morning…"
"Of course, Miss Franklin, and thank you for this opportunity to speak to you. I have found the conversation illuminating. Good luck in your endeavors, and do remember to make use of the staff." Magneto waves and the door opens. "And give my regards to your parents. I look forward to next weekend."
