Summary: Psylocke meets Bishop, and discovers dangerous information

Location: Holding Cells - Xavier Mansion

Participants: Cyclops, Psylocke, Bishop (NPC)

Rating: PG-13 for Disturbing Images

It has been about a day since the mysterious time traveler Lucas Bishop was brought to the mansion. It couldn't come at a worse time, of course, as new student orientation is going on at the mansion so the X-Men's usually busy schedule is even busier. Luckily, the lion's share of Scott's responsibilities are X-Men related, his handful of school duties including trig classes he could teach in his sleep and a few students he mentors. Add to that the fact that he has a genuine Time Travel device to tinker around with, and you can bet that he's ducking out of orientation.

Currently in the sub-levels of the Mansion, Scott is pouring over the gauntlet that Jean and he got off of Bishop. The device is about the size of the time traveler’s forearm, and while Bishop's bicep is considerably larger than Scott's he can still wear it with reasonable comfort. He snaps it on, watching it slowly boot up to flash the countdown until it send the wear back to the set year, in this case 2038. The countdown has reached 10 hour and 12 minutes, and stops every time the gauntlet is removed. There is also a keypad entry portion that seems to be used to set temporal coordinates. Scott has fussed around with that too much, for fear of ending up somewhere rather nasty.

Distant dreams of a tattooed evil cop with an El de Barge haircut haunted Betsy all through the night, in a rare moment of telepathic sensitivity left unbridled. While the woman known as Psylocke is altogether too professional to let a few bad dreams rattle her, they did at least provide sufficient motivation to send her down toward the holding cells for an answer or two.

In her traditional costume, having skulked and stalked her way downward through the Mansion to its sub-levels, Betsy emerges from the shadows in true ninja fashion, coming up silently behind Scott. Silently, until: "And what have we got there? Some new toy of Henry's?"

The sudden voice breaking the connection between Scott and his new toys causes him to jolt nearly dropping the contraption on the floor. He catches it on the rebound and is able to set it gently on the table before him, then glancing towards Betsy he offers a small smile to the bathing suited mutant. "Not exactly though sure he's dying to poke at it," he says. "Took it off of our guest, it’s the way that he travels back and forth in time it seems." He pauses for just a second. "Or at least, that's what it says; not really had the gumption to actually test it. It could be a rather impressive bit of sci-fi prop work, I suppose. But giving this guys story...I kinda doubt it."

The small smile is returned in equal measure, at which point Psylocke moves to pick up the gauntlet and look it over as if it were a piece of fine china. "Hmm. Have you had Nathan take a look at it yet?" Setting the gauntlet back down, Betsy gives her hair an idle flip, and leans against a nearby console. "This seems quite up his alley, assuming he hasn't blasted off to the year 3000 on some mission or other."

"Haven't been able to reach him," Scott says. "But definitely on my short list of people to get in touch with. This is his wheelhouse, more than most, and he might give us a chance to figure out how this thing works." He tosses the gauntlet aside and turns his attention towards the fellow X-Person. "So what are you doing down here? Don't tell me you're getting ready for a Danger Room session at this hour."

"Heavens, no," comes Betsy's reply, clothed in the respectable attire of her posh English accent. "I'd heard tell of a rather interesting prisoner we've gotten our hands upon, and thought I might get an update on that." The purple-haired ninja folds her arms, one side of her mouth rising a small bit. "Which is, of course, your cue, Scott."

Scott nods a bit as he pushes himself away from his workbench, leaving the time-traveling maguffin where it lay. "He's...rather unhappy, to say the least. Mostly to be separated from his toy, though I also think that he had a very-important-mission that we rudely interrupted. He was armed with a common revolver and this device, but has no other bits of identification. Or items of interest. We've asked him what his goal is, but he's...uncooperative." A short pause later. "Wanna meet him?" he asks, already moving towards the cell area, assuming her response.

Betsy pushes off of where she's leaning with an elbow, walking toward the cell area -- she doesn't even need to respond, as Scott's already moving. All the same, she comments, "I'm always up for meeting new faces. That, and the only excitement I've had all day has been sneaking about the campus unseen by any of the little orientation groups. Charles expressed concern that my attire would be disruptive amongst the children."

"Hormones raging and you're walking around like that? Surely you can understand the conflict," Scott teases as he makes his way towards the end of the line of cells. "Hell, I'm trying all I can to not stare, and I'm not 15 anymore." He rests against the far wall. "Hello Lucas. Had a friend of mine who wanted to meet you."

In the cell lays Lucas Bishop, leaning back and staring at the ceiling in the way that bored prisoners are want to do. He glances towards Scott, then Betsy and cracks a grin. "Oh good," he says, his voice a mixture of contempt and amusement as he sits up. "I was wondering how long it was going to be until you started treating me like a zoo animal. Congratulations on getting past the 24 hour mark." He glances from Scott to Betsy, snorting slightly. "Betsy Braddock, also known as Psylocke. Your brother is going to throw you a very nice funeral; closed casket though, as to not scare the children.

"It's functional," is Betsy's only defense of her costume, in spite of Scott's own candor -- which she seems to more or less ignore. Instead, the Japanese-ish woman focuses entirely on Lucas Bishop in his cell, hands settling on her hips. "Brian's always been extremely considerate, so at least there's consistency to be found in your bluster. So, Bishop," Psylocke asks, tilting her head to one side and looking unamused, "is this the end of the tantrum and the start of the big people talk, or do you still have a few more jabs to get in?"

Bishop makes a bit of a face, before he turns and lays down in his bed. "I've already told your fearless leader over there what he needs to know. I came here with a mission, him keeping me here is delaying that mission. You talking to me isn't going to change anything." He turns his attention towards Scott. "You tell her about the future?"

"I didn't," Scott says, frowning deeply. "But I also am sure that she's seen Terminator before, so she probably gets the drift." He seems to squirm, just slightly. He doesn't like Bishop, that much is easy to pick up without being a teep. What Betsy might be able to add to that is the fact that he doesn't like him precisely because of how uncomfortable his seemingly far-fetched, if rather specific, future proclamations are. "What you could tell her that I'd like to hear is what you're hear to do to stop it." Any mental peeking in Bishop's direction will give the portrait of a man who's calm, if vexed by his current situation.

Betsy is usually very ethical about telepathic prying. There's an unwritten code describing ways that are appropriate and not appropriate to use one's psychic powers -- where the line rests between being a hero and simply abusing one's gift. Unfortunately, Betsy has also been trained by a cult of ninjas, and before that worked in the disreputable world of covert intelligence. She's already been picking the lock to Bishop's brain, and has been since the conversation started. "I liked the second one better," Betsy asides quietly, before stating to Bishop: "Indeed. Has it occurred to you, in all of your time-traveling wisdom, that if your mission coincides with ours, we might actually assist you on it?" She is, of course, already trying to flip through the Rolodex of Bishop's mind to find the mission he speaks of -- the verbal exchange is mostly to pass the time while attempting.

Going through the muck that is Bishop's brain takes some doing. Past the nightmare vision of mutant culling and detention camps, giant sentinels prowling the streets, recon teams and fire brigades rounding up everyone with a positive X-gene and branding them. And past all of this, in the deepest folds of this tortured and scarred man's mind, is a list. A list of five high-ranking or soon to be high-ranking government officials that all have one thing in common: a link to the infamous Friends of Humanity group. The list is labeled quite simply: Those That Must Die.

"You're too soft," is all he'll offer. "Xavier never was willing to do what needed to be done, too caught up in the PR and good feelings of peaceful coexistence. You know what happens when you hug the one who hates you?" he asks, glancing directly at Betsy, as if he knows what she's found. "You get stabbed in the back. And you know better than most just how cruel this world, any world, can be." He actually cracks a grin. "You know the necessary times when ruthlessness is better than good intention."

"Enough," Scott interjects, stepping between Betsy and Bishop. He hasn't seen the list, but he can assume the sort of action that Bishop is talking about. "I get that you think there's no other way, no better way. But clear you remember us, you know us. Surely that must mean that we had some impact on the future you came from."

Bishop considers that for a second before nodding. "I suppose you could say the X-Men have a historical significance where I come from," he concurs. "They were the first ones to be swiped off the deck. The first blow. You start the movement..." he says, actually cracking a wide, toothy smile. "But as examples. Martyrs. The walking-talking Alamos."

The unrelenting horror of Bishop's mind doesn't cause more than a twinge of a frown -- that's Betsy's sole reaction as she dips into the catalogue and finds herself pulling up nothing but blood. With a silent breath, she extricates herself from the man's mind and glances over at Scott, letting Bishop's pontification wash over her like white noise. "He's got a hitlist," she notes, as calmly as if she were telling the leader of the X-Men that it looks like it might rain today. "Politicians in office. According to him, they're linked to the Friends of Humanity -- but then, I wouldn't be quick to take him at his word."

"We'll look into it," Scott says as he turns from Bishop to looking at Betsy. "You got the list? Able to transcribe it?" he asks. He doesn't want to be here anymore, clearly, but he remains his ground as long as Betsy needs to so she can gain the information.

"Sure take the list, but what are you going to do with it?" he snorts, shaking his head. "You're still stuck in the old way of thinking, still so trusting, so hopeful. How may people will need to be crushed before you change your mind." Bishop turns his attention to Scott. "I heard a rumor that you got a girl who just showed up. Do you want to know what happens to her? That one especially tears me right up." He sniffles for full effect. For his part, Cyclops looks away, not even acknowleding the man, just focusing on Betsy and waiting to get her confirmation that they can get out of here.

"Oh, be quiet, you insufferable bore," Betsy sighs, looking over at Bishop with a frown of utter disdain. "I can transcribe what I took, but I think I need to organize what I saw. There was... a lot to take in," she notes to Scott, beginning to walk away from the cells, in what is probably not an unpleasant view for the prisoner. "I want to meditate on it a bit. Make more sense of it all."

Bishop does indeed enjoy the view as Betsy walks away, laughing a bit. "I dunno, Cyke...think she likes me," he jokes before calling out to Betsy herself. "Hey, come back sometime. Got other bits of my imagination I bet you'll just LOVE." With that he laughs and leans back on his cell bed.

Scott is close behind Betsy, fuming slightly. Once he's out of the general vacinity, he slams a fist against a nearby wall. "Okay...remind me to not go see him anymore," he says through gritted teeth. "I may end up in a situation I deeply regret."

"All right," Betsy says, glancing over her shoulder at Scott. She waits two seconds, then says, "Don't go to see him anymore." With that, Psylocke takes her leave -- having announced her intentions, she makes good on that promise by opening the door and disappearing into the halls of the sublevel, no doubt to hunt down some quiet spot where she can be alone with her thoughts -- and those shoplifted from Lucas Bishop.

Cyke stands stark still for a few moments, breathing deeply. Eventually, he wanders down towards the Danger Room to blow off some much needed steam before he heads to sleep.

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