6614/Sentinels: Conference for Two

Sentinels: Conference for Two
Date of Scene:	22 February 2019
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Forge and Storm talk about what Sentinels mean to mutants.
Cast of Characters:	Forge, Storm
Tinyplot:	Sentinels

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Forge has posed:
    Forge returned to the security center, to partake use of the giant table. He's moved most of the chairs into the side of the room, stacking a few of them, and has taken over the table with an array of things that he's working on while he focuses on this project. It's fully approachable by anyone, to come and get a look, and Forge has done what he can to make it so that it isn't too technical, and can be read.

He has several big multi-layer blueprint style layouts of the robots themselves, parts lists, distributors involved, groups connected to the factories in a spider-web on the monitors: it's a LOT of work.

Forge himself is bent over the table, his back to the door, arranging some new data on the holo-displays with a dance of left hand over a console. Since it's three in the morning, he's dressed very casually: he probably left bed to come do a 'few more things', his dark hair loose on shoulders.

Storm has posed:
Ororo has been thinking about the notice posted by Forge all evening. Sleep is a tedious bedfellow, when she cannot turn off her mind, so she had come to see what she might be able to learn about the sentinel situation where Forge has been working. Little did she expect Forge to be front and center when she arrived at 3am.

So she pauses as she enters, tilting her head and wrapping a thin black robe around her more tightly. More likely than not, Forge hasn't even noticed her arrival yet. His work immerses his mind - submerges, even. She looks over the scene, and Forge, bent over at the table. "Well. This is more exciting than anything going on upstairs."

Forge has posed:
To his credit (or exhaustion), Forge doesn't jump, but he does draw his hands back, and turn his head to smile at her over his shoulder. "I should hope so. It should be silent upstairs, on a school night of a Thursday," Forge agrees. He pauses. "Or is it not a school night? I don't keep track of when their breaks are," Forge says, turning some and straightening up, with give her a warm but tired-eyed smile during the small-talk.

Storm has posed:
"Oh, it's a school night. But there are always children who refuse to sleep." Ororo leans in to lightly brush back Forge's hair with the backs of her fingers. "And technical geniuses who refuse, as well. I read what you posted, and I can't say I'm not somewhat terrified of this situation, as it stands."

Forge has posed:
"And for a moment, I feared that I was being called a child out of bed," Forge chuckles. He looks at her wrist and hand as she moves her palm close to his head and neck, a curiosity there, but no resistance.

His expression sobers even more than it usually is (as Forge is usually wearing a serious, thoughtful expression much of the time), "No. And I have since received a message from miss Rachel Grey... in her future, these Sentinels have dominated and subjugated all mutant kind. Our future could align with that one, if we don't change the path."

Storm has posed:
With a light gasp and a sigh that is barely audible, Ororo takes a moment, and nods slowly. Well, I can't say I'm entirely surprised by the possibility. Humankind has a long-standing tradition of genocide to uphold, after all. They never stop to realize the benefits of a diverse population, and this is no different. If they had any idea how beneficial it could be to unite with mutants and work side by side with us..." She trails off at that, her own gaze somewhat lost in thought.

But there has to be millions of outcomes that can also be achieved from here. We only have to sway the timeline by a fraction to avoid it. It will simply be a matter of doing everything we can, and hoping that it's enough."

Forge has posed:
Forge's jaw tenses as his teeth clench, and he stares into the table. Through it, maybe, through the data. It's a common look for him, when his mind pitches out into what a thing could be. He closes his eyes after a long silent moment, and turns away from the holograms.

"Yet it also does no good to not take a rest, and return clear-headed. I appreciate you coming to remind me of that; sometimes it is hard to recognize how tired you are," Forge says quietly.

Storm has posed:
"Even someone like you needs rest. I know it's difficult, because there's just so much swirling in your head." Ororo pauses for a moment. "No, I don't suppose I can even fathom how hard it can be for you. There is so much more in your head to try to shut off, I'm sure. I have concerns. Fears. Hope." She shakes her head, looking back up into Forge's eyes. "You have all of that, plus...all of /this/." She gestures to the table, the displays, the schemata, the plans. "I understand why you can't sleep. But even you have to rest sometimes, if you're going to handle it all."

Forge has posed:
"I have some ways that I use to center and calm," Forge responds, perhaps using some of those methods in his gentle answer. "I think it is... something of a /need/ to troubleshoot, for me. To solve the layers of this; but also, it needs to be done, and it cannot wait. It is balance, like anything else. If there is something urgent, it cannot wait for me to rest, but I will be more clear if I do..." Forge winks at her, a sudden playful spark in his otherwise reserved front.

"I must be tired, talking in a circle." Forge is usually direct. "Was there a question you brought with you that I can help with?"

Storm has posed:
Ororo smiles, her gaze flitting over the table again, briefly. "I came, quite simply, to see how I can best be a help to you. Because you're our best hope. But because you're also /my/ best hope." She leaves that there for a moment, before continuing. "There is so much to be done, that I know only you can do. But there is going to be much more along the way, to allow you to do what you need. Is there anything as of now that I can do for you, Forge? You know that you only have to ask. If it is within my power, it will be done. Whether it's to do with the school, the systems here, the students...or just you."

Forge has posed:
The depth of those statements and the weight of it isn't missed on Forge. He doesn't bend under it or look overwhelmed; Forge gives her the thoughtful, even look he approaches all problems with. The man is prepared to do what he can.

"Create some extra hours. Perhaps back in time, to have caught this sooner," Forge smiles, his suggestions deliberately 'outlandish'. His way of saying there isn't really a way, yet.

"Being available if we need to move against one of these facilities or protect a population such as mutant town is what I'd ask of you. Prepare the teams, train for these. I'll put them into the danger room.... because I think without training, they will terrify some of the X-Men. They need exposure to what these things will be, and do." Forge moves to lift a hand to gently set it on her shoulder, if she allows.

It's his flesh-and-bone hand, so it is warm. "We can't avoid a fight, I fear. Not anymore."

Storm has posed:
Ororo nods dutifully at every suggestion, even the outlandish ones. "We'll get the team into the danger room with these as quickly as possible." Then, nodding thoughtfully for a moment, she adds, "You know, we've been engaged in this battle for as long as either if us has been alive. It's just evolved. Like we have. It'll continue to evolve. The fight isn't new. Just the methods, and the opponents. Whether we know it or not, we've been training for this our whole lives."

Forge has posed:
It saddens Forge, to some extent, for some reason. He has some resistance to that statement. He lets his hand fall away, troubled. "Perhaps. This is a fight we selected, though. I don't believe anyone is born to a specific destiny. We choose to continue to move to counter it, or to not. And in the way that seems best to us. I spent too many years being pushed one way..." Forge trails off but looks away from her, back to the table of tech. He seems to relax out of his strange mood quickly enough.

"I'm tired; I apologize, Ororo," Forge says finally.

Storm has posed:
"Whether or not we chose it, Forge. We've fought all this time, and we'll fight awhile longer. It isn't a matter of destiny. It's a matter of the fact that we have made this choice from the beginning, and it has culminated in this. What you see here. And what we'll face when the time comes. Because we'll face it. We'll fight it. It's what we do, and what we've always done." Ororo steps back as Forge turns back to the table. "Yes, you're tired. You've been at this for entirely too long. You should rest. We can discuss it further tomorrow, with refreshed minds, and perhaps perspectives. For now, get some rest, and I'll try to do the same." With an uncharacteristic smirk and playful tone, she adds, "And if you need someone to come watch you while you're bent over that table hard at work, you know where to find me."

Forge has posed:
Forge laughs softly, enjoying her teasing joke, and appreciating the rarity and candor she's willing to show him. "I think it is a fight we can't and shouldn't avoid... perhaps our choice is in our methods, more than anything. /How/ we do it." Forge IS tired. He lifts both hands in a mix of surrender, and starts to move out of the room.

"To the elevator, then, for both of us," Forge suggests. "I had an upgrade I wanted to install there." Yes, he's kidding. Maybe.