Clean Slate: Madin and Quentin
Sep. 30th, 2023 02:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsBack from a flying visit to Oregon, Quentin's Saturday goes south as he learns that Madin is currently being detained while their past is looked into in detail.
Trigger warning: reference to self harm
The Box wouldn’t have been Jubilee’s first choice to hold Madin, given that electronics needed specific shielding to even work inside but with the help of both Doug and Darcy they’d managed. She now sat at a small monitoring station in the room just outside, a series of monitors showing her images both inside and outside the box, along with a view of the mansion grounds and the corridor leading to the Medlab itself. It might have seemed overkill but given possible Brotherhood involvement, and given that Magneto had helped in the building of most of the mansion, it couldn’t be paranoid enough if you asked her.
Which they mostly didn’t, but whatever.
“Quentin, my Dude. Maybe come back later, hey? Like, maybe during visitor hours or something?”
Jubilee cracked another can of Monster and took a sip. Lucky for her, her mutation made sleeping a 'few hours at most' concern. It helped big time with long stakeouts or needing to be bright and cheerful at stupid o'clock.
"No." The raging telepath leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, the exertion of holding himself back from psi-blasting the entire goddamn Eastern Seaboard for this injustice clear on his face. "This is fucked up. You have to understand that, right? They didn't do anything wrong, and you're okay jailing them on a fucking cop's suspicion?"
“If you try any of that psychic woo woo on me, the first person you’re gonna see is Emma, Quincy. She’s a lot less amiable than I am, ” Jubilee noted idly, unbothered by the rage on Quentin’s face. She wasn’t particularly scared, there were a dozen things Quentin could do to her or make her do but he’d have to sleep eventually. You rolled with the punches till you got an opening, then you fucked shit up. “And it’s totally fucked up, this shit always is. But it’s as much to keep them safe as it is for us. Like, just what exactly is the other scenario you’re imagining here?”
"Keep them safe from whom?" he demanded as he stepped inside, turning to face the screens so he could witness this person (his friend?) locked up like they had done worse and less forgivable things than anyone else in this place. Like they weren't just seeking sanctuary, and the one place that could offer it was quickly turning into the exact thing Madin had been fleeing from in the first place. "I know X-Force is the best team around who does all the important stuff to save the world. You're the sole arbiters of what's right for the world and what's wrong. We'd all fall apart with you. But maybe, maybe, get out of your own ass for a moment and look at what you're actually doing." He sighed. "Ten minutes with Madin, that's all I ask. I'll even go in the Box so you don't piss yourself worrying that I'm going to mindfuck everyone."
“Dude. Get out of your own head for a bit.” Jubilee turned slightly, enough to put him in view without taking her eyes completely off the screens. She was glad this wasn’t someone else right now. Quentin wouldn’t have found any of the others quite so reasonable after that screed. “Like, remind me what you actually know about the Brotherhood.”
"Mutant terrorist organization, founded and led by an almost-centenarian Holocaust survivor," Quentin recited jadedly. "My business partner and two of the current roster of X-Men are former members, one ostensibly undercover, but tell that to Sooraya Qadir, that didn't stop her from almost being a casualty. They've recently expanded their operations to the Mutant Underground and are kicking our asses with recruitment because they present a message that's actually appealing to folks who are at the end of their rope. People with nowhere to go, who've lost everything, who just want a fighting chance to survive. The 'good guys' have consistently failed in that. So of course, of course a mutant stuck in a flatscan hellhole like Australia is going to go to them for help."
“Ten minutes, and like, you talk here in front of me. No physical contact, no going anywhere near that box.” Jubilee noted after a long measuring look. “I’m not unsympathetic Quincy but there’s like a bigger picture as well. Like, take a breath for a sec and remember not all of us get to say ‘fuck everyone but me and the person I like’.
Jubilee reached over and flicked on the two-way audiovisual device, allowing Madin to both see and hear her.
“Mads, you’ve got a non-conjugal visitor, your very favorite kind.”
Madin had been on the bed in the box, staring at the wall, not really thinking, not really doing anything. There was nothing to do, anyway. Nothing mattered any more. They'd been out and now they weren't. "Sure," they muttered. They didn't bother getting up.
"You don't have to be such a fucking bitch about it to them," Quentin rebuked Jubilee, unaware (or, more likely, not caring) that the mic was hot. "You wonder why people turn to the Brotherhood and then you mock them to their faces. Jesus." He turned his attention to the person he was here to actually speak with. "Madin. You OK, all things considered?"
Madin shrugged. "Yeah. I'm fine." They'd picked at the skin on one calf until it was raw and bled, visible where their pants leg had been pulled up to access it. "No one has hurt me or anything. You don't need to worry." They sounded completely defeated, unable to even respond to Jubilee's taunting. They should tell Quentin to leave. Everyone knew he was on shaky ground as it was. It wasn't right to let him get caught up in this, too. Madin opened their mouth to say something but couldn't get the words out. Hopefully, he got it telepathically anyway.
Fuck. Madin sounded like they were on death row and their execution date was coming up. "This is so fucked up. You shouldn't be in there, you didn't do anything wrong. I . . ." He almost said he knew the truth, had known since shortly after Madin came here months ago when they got to know each other over gin and tonics. But Jubilee was still there, listening to every word. Things would get worse for both him and Madin if that got out. So he kept that secret to himself for now.
"I'll get you out. I can get you out now if you want to go." Threats of violence, on the other hand, were expected of Quentin, so no one would bat an eye at this bluster.
Madin was tempted and was silent for a long time before answering. “No, you better not. Kane said no one is going to do anything, you know? It’s not jail yet. Maybe if they change what they want or …” Madin trailed off. “Do a jailbreak if it’s going to end up like that, will you?” They eyed the camera. “For legal reasons, that’s a joke and I am not planning to escape.
I'll make everyone wish I'd just joined Magneto if they take you away or hurt you, Quentin promised Madin, the oath falling on deaf ears as the psychic resonance of the Box dissipated the telepathic missive like a letter in a bottle that would never make it across the sea. "Do you need anything? Food, a book, new clothes?" A file baked into a cake?
“I don’t know. Um. I just don’t know…” Madin was quiet for a moment and then, artificially bright said “How about some dynamite?”
Jubilee raised an eyebrow but didn't otherwise make a comment on Madin and Quentin's choice of topics. She picked up her phone surreptitiously and connected it to the recording she'd been making of the current conversation, taking a moment to add a comment and then flicking it off to Marie-Ange and Kevin.
Text: [Rogue Leader 1], [Rogue Leader 2] Heads up, Quentin is here and being a little suss. Attached is the video feed, and audio. Attached: yumadinbro.mp4, itsabrandnewday.mp4
"Alrighty my Dudes, like, I know this whole situation isn't screaming warm and fuzzies but I can't, like, keep the lines of communication open anymore. You're gonna need to bid each other adieu until tomorrow during actual visiting hours."
Quentin waved his hand dismissively and turned to leave. "I meant what I said earlier," he said, halfway out the door. "You keep treating people like this and you're going to lose them. You're doing your enemies' work for them. Fuck around, fight out. You'll be the engine of your own demise. Consider that."
Trigger warning: reference to self harm
The Box wouldn’t have been Jubilee’s first choice to hold Madin, given that electronics needed specific shielding to even work inside but with the help of both Doug and Darcy they’d managed. She now sat at a small monitoring station in the room just outside, a series of monitors showing her images both inside and outside the box, along with a view of the mansion grounds and the corridor leading to the Medlab itself. It might have seemed overkill but given possible Brotherhood involvement, and given that Magneto had helped in the building of most of the mansion, it couldn’t be paranoid enough if you asked her.
Which they mostly didn’t, but whatever.
“Quentin, my Dude. Maybe come back later, hey? Like, maybe during visitor hours or something?”
Jubilee cracked another can of Monster and took a sip. Lucky for her, her mutation made sleeping a 'few hours at most' concern. It helped big time with long stakeouts or needing to be bright and cheerful at stupid o'clock.
"No." The raging telepath leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, the exertion of holding himself back from psi-blasting the entire goddamn Eastern Seaboard for this injustice clear on his face. "This is fucked up. You have to understand that, right? They didn't do anything wrong, and you're okay jailing them on a fucking cop's suspicion?"
“If you try any of that psychic woo woo on me, the first person you’re gonna see is Emma, Quincy. She’s a lot less amiable than I am, ” Jubilee noted idly, unbothered by the rage on Quentin’s face. She wasn’t particularly scared, there were a dozen things Quentin could do to her or make her do but he’d have to sleep eventually. You rolled with the punches till you got an opening, then you fucked shit up. “And it’s totally fucked up, this shit always is. But it’s as much to keep them safe as it is for us. Like, just what exactly is the other scenario you’re imagining here?”
"Keep them safe from whom?" he demanded as he stepped inside, turning to face the screens so he could witness this person (his friend?) locked up like they had done worse and less forgivable things than anyone else in this place. Like they weren't just seeking sanctuary, and the one place that could offer it was quickly turning into the exact thing Madin had been fleeing from in the first place. "I know X-Force is the best team around who does all the important stuff to save the world. You're the sole arbiters of what's right for the world and what's wrong. We'd all fall apart with you. But maybe, maybe, get out of your own ass for a moment and look at what you're actually doing." He sighed. "Ten minutes with Madin, that's all I ask. I'll even go in the Box so you don't piss yourself worrying that I'm going to mindfuck everyone."
“Dude. Get out of your own head for a bit.” Jubilee turned slightly, enough to put him in view without taking her eyes completely off the screens. She was glad this wasn’t someone else right now. Quentin wouldn’t have found any of the others quite so reasonable after that screed. “Like, remind me what you actually know about the Brotherhood.”
"Mutant terrorist organization, founded and led by an almost-centenarian Holocaust survivor," Quentin recited jadedly. "My business partner and two of the current roster of X-Men are former members, one ostensibly undercover, but tell that to Sooraya Qadir, that didn't stop her from almost being a casualty. They've recently expanded their operations to the Mutant Underground and are kicking our asses with recruitment because they present a message that's actually appealing to folks who are at the end of their rope. People with nowhere to go, who've lost everything, who just want a fighting chance to survive. The 'good guys' have consistently failed in that. So of course, of course a mutant stuck in a flatscan hellhole like Australia is going to go to them for help."
“Ten minutes, and like, you talk here in front of me. No physical contact, no going anywhere near that box.” Jubilee noted after a long measuring look. “I’m not unsympathetic Quincy but there’s like a bigger picture as well. Like, take a breath for a sec and remember not all of us get to say ‘fuck everyone but me and the person I like’.
Jubilee reached over and flicked on the two-way audiovisual device, allowing Madin to both see and hear her.
“Mads, you’ve got a non-conjugal visitor, your very favorite kind.”
Madin had been on the bed in the box, staring at the wall, not really thinking, not really doing anything. There was nothing to do, anyway. Nothing mattered any more. They'd been out and now they weren't. "Sure," they muttered. They didn't bother getting up.
"You don't have to be such a fucking bitch about it to them," Quentin rebuked Jubilee, unaware (or, more likely, not caring) that the mic was hot. "You wonder why people turn to the Brotherhood and then you mock them to their faces. Jesus." He turned his attention to the person he was here to actually speak with. "Madin. You OK, all things considered?"
Madin shrugged. "Yeah. I'm fine." They'd picked at the skin on one calf until it was raw and bled, visible where their pants leg had been pulled up to access it. "No one has hurt me or anything. You don't need to worry." They sounded completely defeated, unable to even respond to Jubilee's taunting. They should tell Quentin to leave. Everyone knew he was on shaky ground as it was. It wasn't right to let him get caught up in this, too. Madin opened their mouth to say something but couldn't get the words out. Hopefully, he got it telepathically anyway.
Fuck. Madin sounded like they were on death row and their execution date was coming up. "This is so fucked up. You shouldn't be in there, you didn't do anything wrong. I . . ." He almost said he knew the truth, had known since shortly after Madin came here months ago when they got to know each other over gin and tonics. But Jubilee was still there, listening to every word. Things would get worse for both him and Madin if that got out. So he kept that secret to himself for now.
"I'll get you out. I can get you out now if you want to go." Threats of violence, on the other hand, were expected of Quentin, so no one would bat an eye at this bluster.
Madin was tempted and was silent for a long time before answering. “No, you better not. Kane said no one is going to do anything, you know? It’s not jail yet. Maybe if they change what they want or …” Madin trailed off. “Do a jailbreak if it’s going to end up like that, will you?” They eyed the camera. “For legal reasons, that’s a joke and I am not planning to escape.
I'll make everyone wish I'd just joined Magneto if they take you away or hurt you, Quentin promised Madin, the oath falling on deaf ears as the psychic resonance of the Box dissipated the telepathic missive like a letter in a bottle that would never make it across the sea. "Do you need anything? Food, a book, new clothes?" A file baked into a cake?
“I don’t know. Um. I just don’t know…” Madin was quiet for a moment and then, artificially bright said “How about some dynamite?”
Jubilee raised an eyebrow but didn't otherwise make a comment on Madin and Quentin's choice of topics. She picked up her phone surreptitiously and connected it to the recording she'd been making of the current conversation, taking a moment to add a comment and then flicking it off to Marie-Ange and Kevin.
Text: [Rogue Leader 1], [Rogue Leader 2] Heads up, Quentin is here and being a little suss. Attached is the video feed, and audio. Attached: yumadinbro.mp4, itsabrandnewday.mp4
"Alrighty my Dudes, like, I know this whole situation isn't screaming warm and fuzzies but I can't, like, keep the lines of communication open anymore. You're gonna need to bid each other adieu until tomorrow during actual visiting hours."
Quentin waved his hand dismissively and turned to leave. "I meant what I said earlier," he said, halfway out the door. "You keep treating people like this and you're going to lose them. You're doing your enemies' work for them. Fuck around, fight out. You'll be the engine of your own demise. Consider that."
