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Summary: Magneto calls Tabitha to task for not being as careful as she ought to be.
Date: May 30, 2011
Log Title: Door Crashing the Press Conference
Rating: PG
//NYC - Genoshan Embassy //
The neo-classical building was built in 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 the official functions occur.
Magneto looks up as the door opens. He's seated at his desk, in a good suit, and he's not smiling. "Miss Jones. It appears that I'm being blamed for damaging mailboxes along several blocks of Mutant Town. I do not recall hating mailboxes recently. Would you have an explanation?"
Tabitha enters, looking a bit like… not so much a drowned rat, as a rat about to be drowned. "Uhm." She closes the door behind her, and clasps her hands behind her back. "I… well, you, it, uhm." She coughs softly against the back of her hand, and shakes her head. "Your power happens to be the strongest one I've ever copied, I'm sure, I mean it's like… all of a sudden there's all this… stuff I'm suddenly aware of that I didn't know about before. So I was cruising down the streets on my motorcycle and got to thinking about it, and I wasn't… really *trying* to do anything, but I was thinking about how easy it was to bugger up that one guy's microphone, and the next thing I knew a bunch of mailboxes paid the price." She pauses for a nervous moment. "I tried to put some of them right again, but I just kind of… made them worse."
Magneto taps his pen end for end three times, and then sets it down, very precisely, in the middle of his desk. And then Tabitha's senses are going to go WOW as he flexes the electromagnetic properties of the whole room. Just to get her attention. "Miss Jones. Yes, I am one of the strongest mutants on the planet. I am not the only strong mutant on the planet, and while I can handle the annoying backwash of poor publicity from your blatant lack of training and rudimentary control, it is inconvenient on a number of levels, and most of those levels involve persons beyond you and myself. I suggest, since the twenty-four hour limit has passed, that your drop my powers. Now."
Tabitha squeaks softly at the sudden overload of electromagnet power, and steps backwards, right up against the door. "I can't!" She shakes her head quickly. "Hasn't… quite been long enough yet. It isn't always exactly twenty-four hours, believe me, I tried when I was on the way over here and I tried again just before coming through the door. It's not that I don't want to, I *do* want to drop them because I don't want to be an accidental terror to everything that happens to have metal in it, I just… can't. yet." She pauses, and clasps her hands protectively in front of her. "But I should be able to soon. I hope."
Magneto smiles. It isn't a nice smile. "Try again. Now." Because fear can be a powerful incentive, and he really doesn't think she was afraid before. She should be now…
And if her power goes whack instead? He's sealed the room. He's confident of being able to contain anything she can dish out, and make it dance the mazurka, besides.
Tabitha doesn't seem to outwardly change; she doesn't move, and she doesn't close her eyes or clench her teeth. She eventually just shakes her head no. "Not yet," she replies. "Let me try again in about ten minutes? Please?" She fidgets, and wrings her hands together. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause any harm, though Tony Stark will probably tell you that trouble seems to stick to me like white on rice, ever since I had to run away from home." She perhaps realizes that she's babbling, and shuts her mouth for a good minute. "You aren't the only mutant who can abuse mailboxes from a distance, though, why would people automatically think it's you? I mean, can't you just point out that umpteen people and their friends have seen you around here all day?"
Magneto sighs. "Miss Jones. Need I point out my own reputation to you? Or are you one of those young people with absolutely no sense of history, save her own?" His lack of patience is showing. She can probably feel the room roiling in response to him, despite the fact that to the eye, absolutely nothing is happening. "In addition, when you know I am somewhere nearby, and your metallic object suddenly does things it never did before, would you consider my involvement, or would you consider the possibility of some young lady chancing past on her motorcycle, and slopping all over the landscape by mistake?"
Tabitha blushes fiercely, the inside of her ears coloring. "No, my Dad made sure I knew all about you," she replies. "You and a bunch of other mutants, and people like Senator Kelly. I got the whole mutant history, though I got it from the wrong person." She pauses, and shakes her head. "I'm not a total delinquent, you know, I stopped and *tried* to fix the mailboxes, and I even owned up to it to one angry guy and offered to pay for it, but he just told me to get lost and stop trying to feed him porky pies. Look, I'll even go on TV and say it was me, it's not like people don't already treat me like a pariah in half the place I go to, and I didn't *want* to make anything difficult for you." She pauses for a moment, and abruptly looks like she's about to be sick, to the point of dropping down to her knees and doubling over, clutching her stomach. "Okay… gone… now," she gasps.
Magneto grunts and eyes Tabitha, without offering assistance. Yet more impatience showing. "Delivering yourself up to television would be pointless. Those who would believe you would believe you, those who would not would blame me anyway, and you would serve yourself up as a target for the mutant hate groups for no good purpose. I think you would do well to get yourself some more training before doing that, if fame is your purpose in life." He frowns. "You were wearing a Barnes shirt the other day. Are you attending that academy?"
Tabitha pauses, breathing heavily where she's kneeling, and mutters something about that being worse than losing the wings. Slowly, she stands up again, clutching at her belly for a few moments. She nods, but takes a moment before answering. "Yes, I got accepted there about a month ago," she mumbles. "Been studying very hard so I can get into learning mechanical engineering." She pauses again, and brushes her fingers through her hair. "Mr. Stark arranged it. Well, except for impressing Agent Drew enough to accept me, I guess. But he did seem to think I'd make a good agent, or… something like that, given my powers and stuff." She pauses, and sighs heavily. "Look, I don't know, I'm just trying to take responsibility for my mistake. I don't know what to do to fix it, and I didn't want to cause you trouble."
Magneto turns his head, and there is a pause; Tabitha can no longer sense what he's doing, although she can probably tell that yes, he is doing something. "Fixed." He turns back to her. "Telling me that you are having a problem is a good first step, and should have been the first thing you did when you realized that your power had gotten out of your control. I gave you contact numbers for a reason, Miss Jones. Should something like this happen again, I will expect you to use them.
"I don't expect perfection from you, Miss Jones. You're too young and still too new to the whole business of having powers to even think of doing it right the first time every time. However, you are not a foolish young woman by nature — I can see that for myself. So you will know when you need help. I trust that in the future you will have the sense to ask for it."
Tabitha nods her head quickly. "I will," she replies. "I was just… well, I was pretty upset, and I didn't think of it. I know that's stupid in the extreme, but I do try not to make the same mistakes twice." She thrusts her hands back in her pockets, and chews on her bottom lip. "I did make a present for Rashmi though, one of my roommates at Barnes. Took me all night last night… Maybe that's why I lost control anyway, I've been dead tired because of it. She warned me not to try copying her, either… well… at least, not without a day off and a reinforced room."
Magneto's mouth quirks. "Miss Franklin is not a foolish young woman. You would be wise to heed her advice. I've seen her in action, and a reinforced room might not be enough."
He leans back in his chair and steeples his fingers. "A present, though. What sort of present? How much control did you manage to have, when you were concentrating… and not wool-gathering while out riding?"
Tabitha shrugs the straps of her backpack off her shoulders, and pulls the teddy-bear likened bag off her back. She unzips it as she approaches Magneto's desk, and withdraws from it a box; and from the box, she produces a small, metallic model of what is quite obviously the Taj Mahal. "I thought about doing something else," she explains. "I was worried the Taj Mahal might be a bit… obvious. But I… realized I'd probably have an easier time with that." She steps back, and clasps her hands behind her back. The quality of detail she has on it isn't bad, either; it's not a perfect representation, and she has a couple of mistakes, but the less critical eye might easily miss them. "I was out on my bike because I meant to buy wrapping paper for it."
Magneto looks the trinket over, carefully, then picks it up and turns it to look at its other sides. "A good job, for a first try. You have good imaging capabilities." He puts the model down again. "It would seem that someone will profit by the … opportunity you availed yourself of yesterday."
Tabitha nods her head slowly. "Rashmi has helped me out a couple of times," she murmurs. "Like when she listened to me about my… confessions, I guess, about things that happened before I split from my Dad. And then again when I accidentally copied someone who had wings, and figured I might as well spend the week learning to fly." She pauses, and her tail flicks idly behind her. "I used ready-rod, from the hardware store. Twisted it into knots after I bought it so it'd fit in my bag, then spent the next three hours looking for pictures of the Taj Mahal on the internet… which was really fun when I realized that the mouse and keyboard have metal in them so I didn't have to touch them to use them."
Magneto makes a mental tick mark: did not blow out the computer while using magnetic powers. The girl does have skill and focus… she just has no experience at maintaining them. "Indeed." The toy Taj Mahal lifts off the desk and floats in front of Tabitha. "I will suggest a line of inquiry for you: check out the periodic table of elements in a chemistry textbook or on the internet, and count the number of metallic elements versus the number of non-metallic elements. Consider these numbers in relation to their ready availability in the local environment. If you should ever copy my abilities again… you will need this information."
He leans forward and picks up his pen again. "I think we have discussed what we needed to discuss. Unless you have any further confessions to make…?"
Tabitha nods her head quickly. "Oh, I know," she replies. "Chemistry is one of the things I've been studying up on. Even if you don't count the rare ones in those two lines they put down at the bottom of the table, there's so many metallic elements it's ridiculous." She catches the little Taj Mahal, and puts it carefully into the box once more. "Next time I copy anyone's powers, I'm going to be a lot more careful. This is the first time I copied someone where I could really… do serious damage, I guess you could say. Wings, conjuring glowing swords, sticking to walls, and stuff like that doesn't… really compare." She pauses, as she's backing away towards the door. "I do miss the wings though. They were fun, and it's not like I could possibly get any more funny looking than I already am anyway."
Magneto listens and nods as Tabitha reaches the door. "Fun is good. Control is better. Good evening, Miss Jones. Thank you for coming. Please do not make me call you in like this again."
Tabitha shakes her head quickly. "I won't," she replies, in a particularly reverent tone of voice. "Err… have a good evening." She slips out quickly, without waiting for any further reply.
~ Fin ~
