October 15th
Midnight

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He stood alone at the farthest point of his father's property, his violin tucked under his chin. This place was going to drive him mad, he realized, the loneliness, the misery.

Pietro Maximoff played a song known only to his people, and known only to the master musicians of his people. It was something magical, something mystical, something that could only be played from the very depths of the violinist's soul, and what lay there in the deepest parts of a man was what dictated the shape of the notes, the color of the music. Pietro played in deep blood red, in scarlet, and at a speed that began to grow faster and faster, the bowstrings scraping the violin strings like in an attack, forcing the music to speak of what he had lost at his own hand.

Not just his place in X-Factor, not just what little respect his teammates had once had, not just his friends, sisters, his father, his mother...

Pietro played this night for his lost humanity, because he knew that the more he fell into this doctrine of his fathers, the more his anger was going to lead him from his path.

As he played, the crystal of the watch he wore flashed in the strangely colored lights of the abandoned amusement park. His sister had given it to him the day they had evolved beyond what they were, and though it no longer worked after such a long time, he wore it today because he needed to be closer to her. The music began to careen into something beyond darkness, something inhuman and ethereal. He closed his eyes, and she was in front of him... no... not just Wanda.... his mother was there too...

The fire burned orange highlights in Mama's hair, and made the many colors of her skirt seem to shine in the darkness. He was playing the violin, but he was dancing with his mother too, a dark haired boy, moments from being a man, moments from losing his humanity. Wanda laughed and he spun away from his mother, to take his twin in her arms and she was whole in mind and happiness, dressed in red, dripping with bangles that sang in time with the music. She planted a sweet kiss on his dark cheek and twirled away, Lorna taking her place, younger than he had ever known her to be, and though she could not be here, here she was indeed. He moved to kiss her forehead and she teasingly moved from his arms, to dance with Alexander Summers, who was no longer grey of skin, and haunted of expression. They looked at each other with love and that bothered him, still. He wanted to protest, but a heavy hand rested on his shoulder, then and he looked up into the face of his father. He turned to look back at his family and realized that Wanda was no longer with them. He took a step towards where she had been and his father's hand clenched around his shoulder, holding him back. Magneto placed his helmet on his son's head, and the world went black.

*SNAP*

The strings of his violin suddenly snapped at once, unable to withstand the force of his emotion. The spell... hallucination... dream... whatever it was broken, and Pietro was on his knees...

The music had told him nothing, nothing that he was ready to know, nothing that he was able to discern.

He couldn't even see the fading red wisps that surrounded him.

And then, they were gone.

The red headed Acolyte tried to keep her eye on her new brother. She reasoned that Erik’s word was law and if the former X-Factor member was good enough for Magneto’s ranks, it was good enough for her. It was not her place to question Magneto. She had learned that the hard way. Perhaps there had been a sense of nepotism in the decision but that did not matter. Amelia hoped that this could be a boost for the morale of the team of misfit terrorists but she feared it could serve to drive a wedge to splinter the group.

Amelia Voght also hoped that perhaps Pietro’s presence in the Acolytes, Magneto’s lieutenants could keep things on an even keel for the Brotherhood. The four Acolytes had different personalities and tactics to achieve their goals. They were all loyal, or appeared so, to Magneto. Saint was charming yet sadistic. He was so devoted to the plan that he willing got captured to be taken into CAGE. Primal was malicious and downright venomous. There was nothing to stand in his way once he chose a direction. Then there was Amelia. She had originally joined Magneto because she knew that Xavier’s plan for salvation was a failed one. With his passive approach and mollycoddling means, mutants would be wiped out by the humans that feared and hated them. Quicksilver was going to be a wild card.

The red head had been going about her own business since Quicksilver had joined them. It was this night however that she took a vested interest in the young man. She had spied him on the grounds, near the edge of the park, with his violin. There was a pensive look on his face. Amelia phased into her vapor form and followed him. Here at the edge of the property he set into a violin solo. He was well practiced and played the song, a Romany inspired melody it seemed, very well. He was very passionate. That was evident by the way he moved. The very sound of the instrument under his command was passionate.

With the final note, though, Pietro’s passion proved to be too great and the strings snapped. He was on his knees and just looked at the broken instrument in his hands. He looked as if he had lost something very precious to him.

Amelia coalesced from the air into a solid shape once more. She stood behind the young Maximoff. “You play beautifully,” she said. “I doubt everyone would complain if you played inside the compound.”

“You play beautifully,” she said. “I doubt everyone would complain if you played inside the compound.”

Pietro was on his feet in an instant, spinning around with his full speed, the violin bow coming up as if to run the intruder through. He lowered his hand and brought himself back to a more sociable speed when he saw that it was Amelia, a fellow acolyte and the one person in his father's inner circle that might... not be as vile as the others. The one who might help Pietro in his quest to save the mutant race by saving his father's soul. He bowed his head slightly at her compliment, and said, "When I was an addle brained child, there was very little I could do right. I could not run without tripping. I could not learn without being distracted. I could not talk without my words running into scattered fantasy. But I could play the violin, because music was something my too slow body and too quick mind could do together. One must learn where the fingers, the hands go, which is something to learn by rote. It is the mind, the imagination, the spirit that guides your hands once the positions are learned. I am only better now because now that I know the basics of music, my speed allows me innovations. Many days in Transia, we ate only because I could play and Wan..." He realized he was revealing too much and his jaw closed so quickly it was with an almost audible click.

He looked away, "It is not for them to hear. It was not for you, but you have heard so there is no use in complaining now."

He tucked the violin in its case, slipping off the watch Wanda had gifted him so long ago, and placing it safely inside. "Besides, do you not think men, and I use the term lightly, like Primal or the Juggernaut would not think such a thing as weakness. It is already clear to all that I am afforded this position simply because I am Magneto's son. Should I compound that softness by revealing I play my violin alone and lonely in dark shadows of this prison I have sentenced myself to out of a duty to the man who gave me life, even if he cares little for that life now?"

The former nurse was not surprised with Pietro drew the violin’s bow back to strike against her. She had come upon him without his being aware and without his consent. It was a natural reaction for him, for anyone. Once his eyes sent the signal to his brain and his mind registered that she was an ally he relaxed slightly. Thank goodness for his quick reflexes. His reaction time was as amplified as his running ability. She was slightly surprised, however, that he related a small part of his history to her. She had judged him to be a proud young man and did not guess that he would reveal little tidbits from his youth that some might consider a weakness or a blemish. She wasn’t ashamed though, that was ancient history. He had evolved.

He had taken offense to the intrusion, yes. He was playing for no one but himself. Amelia didn’t apologize or make excuses. She had followed him after all in combination of innocent curiosity and not so innocent fealty to the Brotherhood. The silver haired youth knelt down to pack away his violin. He packaged it inside the velvet lined case with great care. Amelia gave a small smile. “No, I doubt Primal and Juggernaut are fanciers of the arts,” she said. “To speak frankly, though, you are correct in thinking they see the weakness from you being accepted into the fold without proving yourself. They also don’t trust your loyalties seeing as you were once in X-Factor. But, you were at the meeting just as I was so I am not telling you anything you don’t know.”

The red head looked down to him and said, “But that is something you and I share. We have been soldiers on both sides of this war.”

It was almost a lifetime ago but Amelia had been at Xavier’s side. Sometimes she wondered if things had played out differently if she would have stayed at the mansion with him and his growing team of X-Men. No, probably not. Even if he had not abused his power to try to sway her mind she would have left. She feared that bringing mutants into the limelight would doom them all. Charles and her ideas for the future of mutants were just too different. Now she followed Magneto in his proactive stance and committed atrocities in the name of mutant rights. She’d come a long way from wanting mutants to remain hidden.

Smirking at her assessment of Primal and Juggernaut, Pietro tossed his head with the youthful false arrogance of a man who believed he was someone superior, but had no idea who that someone really was. "Frankly, I could not care less if I am seen as weak by those evolutionary dead ends. They are the worst of our kind." He narrowed his gaze, looking at her sideways, "My father's philosophies are not always my own, but my loyalty to our people cannot be surpassed. It will be noted when it is time for it to be noted, and those who doubt me can go straight to hell. I will see them there when all is said and done."

He rose, swiftly, moving at a rapid speed because he could, because he needed to show that there was a reason to be here other than some clinging to daddy's coat hem. The violin case was tucked under his arm, his other hand running through his hair, trying to time his ridiculous cowlicks, trying to look a man and not a boy. She continued to speak to him and her words gave him pause.

Pietro held up his hand to stop her, "You were on the other side of the war, Miss Voght? I have only been in this country for two years, so perhaps I missed it, but were you with the X-Men? Or Charles Xavier perhaps? I know very little about the history of those people, so forgive me if I should be aware of this before now. Why are you here then? Terrible things were done to you for very bad reasons. You did many bad things because of what was done. Do you think you can find redemption here with the Brotherhood, with this band of murderers and thieves? Or are you merely so broken that you fear no one else will take you? Why would someone like you be here with these people? If you were with Xavier's people then at one point you must have had hope."

Pietro smirked at what Amelia had said about the two men of the Brotherhood. The young Romany wasn’t about to let what others thought about him dictate his actions. He admitted that Magneto’s ways and ideals were not always his. That indicated to Amelia that Quicksilver followed his father’s philosophies some of the time, otherwise, he wouldn’t be with the Brotherhood. But Amelia wasn’t one to throw stones. She herself, did not follow everything that her family tried to force upon her. She didn’t want to be a doctor. She was more than happy to be merely a lowly nurse. A nurse wasn’t prestigious enough for them, but most children don’t grow up to be what their parents intend. Amelia was now a warrior in the name of mutant rights. Are you proud of me now, mom and dad?

Pietro was up quickly and tucked the violin case under his arm. He stopped her words with a hand. There was a slightly confused look on his face. He couldn’t understand how she had been on the other side of the war before and now fight alongside Magneto. Amelia shouldn’t have assumed the young man knew her history. She was so used to people knowing her background in the Brotherhood that she didn’t mention it before. The Brotherhood tried to learn as much as they could about X-Factor and the X-Men. The Brothers knew that most likely it would be one of those factions that they’d have an encounter with.

She gave a small smile as she remembered back to that time. “No, I was never one of the X-Men. I was more of a paramour of Charles’ that got away before the X-Men formed. But I joined the Brotherhood before I was ever converted by Apocalypse,” she explained, suppressing a shudder at those darker memories. “Charles and I didn’t see eye to eye on mutants. I hid from the world for a long time but I joined Magneto originally to find Charles when he was missing. Slowly, I realized that Professor Xavier’s passive plan was flawed. A more proactive strategy is needed for true progress.”

Pietro jumped to the conclusions about her. She should have expected. It was hard for him to be on this team that was so violent and stood against much of what he tried to accomplish in X-Factor. He must have thought she had given up hope. She was not a broken woman. She knew what she was fighting for; she knew the direction her actions were taking her. “In life there is not always a single road to follow. There can be two roads to a destination. It is my hope that I’m on the path that ends the quickest with the less spoil in my wake,” she said sincerely.

The woman revealed something that Pietro had difficulty imagining, having never known Charles Xavier before his strange return and only now having the barest of interaction with the youthened man who was once the peer of his father, the love of this woman. Her tone harshened slightly on his name and Pietro cocked his head to the side quizzically. Whatever had driven her from Xavier, there were mixed feelings towards it... There was plenty of time for him to puzzle it out, but Pietro Maximoff was not much for prying into others lives usually because he simply did not care. He was self centered, indeed, having spent so much of his life as the complete focus of another person, his darling twin, and having focused so much of his life on her in return.

Besides, he was afraid to get to know these people. He was afraid they would turn his frailties on him, they would use his loves against him. He would not grow close to monsters...

But Amelia's words seemed to make such sense to him. She did not believe in wanton mayhem. She wanted to lead their people to salvation, as did he. He looked at her, his silver blue eyes filling with an almost childlike pleading, though he was unaware such a thing was happening to him. "You see that this is a pathway to destruction, do you not? That my father's way is going to kill us all if we do not find a way to temper his anger with hope?"

He risked much to ask this. He prayed she understood.

Pietro realized that following Magneto was a path that would get all of them killed. This had crossed the Acolyte’s mind before. She had begun to think that neither Magneto nor Charles were correct in their endeavors. She wished there was some medium between the two but that didn’t seem possible. She had hidden before, run away, but that wasn’t going to fly now. She was too involved. Amelia had entrenched herself. She had seen what humans could do, the violence and the destruction. Then she had witnessed firsthand the pain and anguish caused by Apocalypse, the mad warlord. She knew that mutants were the rightful heirs of the earth. She had her trial of morals before but was still trying to find her place within the ranks again.

“We are all likely to die, whichever road we choose Pietro,” Amelia offered. “The Brotherhood could die in an ambush on mutant hating bigots like those in Genosha. On the other hand, if a zealot got creative enough they could suicide bomb X-Factor headquarters and kill everyone in their sleep. They aren’t particularly low-key you know.”

Did this young man leave his friends and Xavier’s dream in order to try and sway the mind behind the opposition? Was Pietro hoping to stay his father’s hand or temper his actions in policy? “Your father is not without reason. He is understanding to our worries and concerns as long as they are expressed in a respectful manner. He is not as mad as the world thinks he is. Many people do not understand him,” she said. After a short pause she added, “Some may also find it a surprise that not all Acolytes desire the genocide of humanity, either, but our rightful place in the world.”

She pointed out things he already knew, things he had already thought of. What did it matter really? No one truly understood his reasons for being here...

Not even himself.

"I am one of those who do not understand," Pietro admitted, looking away from the woman. "I do not know if I ever will understand, and part of me fears what will happen on the day when do." He closed his eyes, "I hate this place, and I hate everyone who exists within its walls..." Realizing what he had said, the young man looked quickly to her and said, "Forgive me, Amelia... I do not know you enough to hate you yet, and you have been surprisingly gentle towards me. I did not wish you to hear my frustrations and loneliness expressed in musical form, an overly dramatic past time that comes from my skewed remembrance of what a gypsy man should be, who he should be. All my notions of honor, and passion, and courage, and strength are colored with a scatter brained child's recollection. It is why I cannot be here as the others are. My life has lead me here for other reasons."

When she spoke of genocide and revealed that not all of them wanted this violence, his silver blue eyes returned to Amelia. "Is there any way other than this? The others will not rest until we are the last ones standing. How do you temper monsters? You say there is more to my father than being a tyrant and a terrorist, but what more is there of Primal or Pyro? Exodus? They want bloodshed because bloodshed appeals to them. They will slaughter mutants as well as humans because it is fun, not because they believe in the furthering of our cause no matter how they have deluded themselves into thinking it."

Poor Pietro was so confused. He counted himself among those that didn’t understand. He had been thrust into a strange and new situation. It was all foreign to him. He had been on the outside looking for so long and his point of view had been skewed. Yes, Amelia had been on that side of the fence as well. When she was at Xavier’s side things looked terrible for mutants. She had nightmares of men coming to their home and dragging Charles and her out to meet their death at the feet of the mob. For him to say he hated them was easy. He didn’t understand.

Quicksilver spoke rather quickly and then he caught his words. He had said he hated everyone within Murder World then apologized because Amelia had tried to help him understand; he didn’t know her well enough to hate her yet. In her mind, Amelia likened Pietro to a boy who hated school and everyone there because it was new and he didn’t know them. He was feeling alienated, although, Amelia did agree with some of his argument. Many of them took great pleasure in the murders they committed. Some of the Brotherhood members were borderline psychotics or worse. “All of our lives have led us here for different reasons. Perhaps, you and I are here to try and place the reins on the chaos because we can see the middle ground.”

“How do we try to temper them? Like you said they may be willing to kill mutants as well. That is not Magneto’s vision. Mutants are the future of the race. We are the better beings. Your teammates, for example, may be seen as traitors to the species. In this war, every mutant life is precious. We have so many gifts, many of them are truly unique,” Amelia said.

It was true that she tried to temper Magneto’s wrath when she could. She was devoted to the mutant cause but there were some deaths that could be avoided. “But as for tempering, you may realize Pietro that we are in a position of power. As Acolytes we stand at Magneto’s side both chosen and trusted. In his absence our word is his word. Our orders are to be followed. Magneto also trusts us enough to consider our judgment on plans of action delivered in a respectful manner.”

Amelia blushed then almost forgetting herself. The mood had gotten so serious. It was true, she tried to keep the needless death to a minimum the best she could but she was still loyal to the Master of Magnetism. “That sounded rather like conspiracy, I’m afraid,” she said.

Listening to her words, Pietro realized that she felt as he did in many ways. It seemed as if she understood what it was that he was so concerned with. He looked at her with surprise and said, "I did not expect to find a rational voice here. I expected to be very much alone here... I am more alone than I have ever been in my life without my twin, but perhaps, at least in this, I may have someone who understands."

He lifted his hand, offering it to her, "My father can save the world. I have seen it in what he can do, what he does in the face of such horrors as Apocalypse. I fear men like those he has gathered will encourage misdeeds, that they will give humanity the reason to eradicate us without hesitation. We are evolved, but few of us are immortal. There are millions of humans, possibly billions, I do not know a number," he waved an impatient hand at this lack in his education, clearly finding accuracy much less important than hyperbole, "But there are how few of us active at this point, able to use our powers with great ability and control? We are outnumbered, and as they are desperate, we are in danger far beyond their own. Humanity is not interested in integration..."

Lowering his head, he said, "I fear we are doomed, and this anger in me grows with every passing day. I wonder often if I will succumb to it, and become just another dagger for Magneto to aim into humanity's heart."

Amelia was pleased that Pietro found her to be a voice of reason. It wasn’t a facet of hubris, it meant that she wasn’t going insane amidst all the chaos. They went out into the world from their base and eliminated threats to their goals. That usually meant that people lost their lives. She knew that people thought she was a hypocrite. Being a nurse, sworn to heal, but cause murder and destruction was an oxymoron, a contradiction in terms. Amelia looked at it as if she was saving more lives. A prolonged war would only produce innumerable corpses. Lives extinguished when they could have flourished and provided something wondrous to the world.

“Your father is one of the most powerful mutants that the world has ever seen. But he may still be influenced by those around him, for either good or ill will. There are definitely those that would like to see his cause wipe humanity from the face of the earth. Our numbers are small now but we are growing. Who knows how many mutants are out there, how many are in hiding, Pietro?” Amelia asked.

Other mutants that were like Amelia as she used to be. They chose to remain in hiding and not take any part in the affairs of the world. For some it was safer to hide their powers. Times were dark for those with strange and unbelievable powers. They were only trying to stay safe. In a way, it would work, but their inactivity would not help their kind whatsoever.

Pietro expressed his fear in just becoming a tool for his father to use to destroy all of human kind. The speed demon hung his head in shame. Amelia touched him lightly on the shoulder. “What if you chose not to let your growing anger consume you? What about the possibility of channeling your anger. You could still be a dagger, but not aim for the heart of humanity, but rather for the dead branches, to prune away the decay? What of that option?”

"And what does that entail, Amelia Voght," Pietro spat, his accent growing thicker in his disgust, "I will not kill anyone, and that makes me weak, does it not? Because I will not murder in cold blood." He put his hand to his head and he said,"My sisters would be very disappointed if I did such a thing... my love would think..." His mouth closed with finality, and he turned away. "I speak too quickly. When I was a child, my body was too slow for my mind, now it is too fast and I am brash and cause so many problems for myself."

He took a second to calm himself and then, turned towards her again, his chin lifted, his eyes red rimmed, "I made this bed, I suppose there is no reason I should be crying about lying in it, right? I will be what my father needs me to be, whether or not that is what he wants me to be. I am a horrible person to want the approval of a man so many see as a terrorist, a man who sees me as little more than cannon fodder. Yet, I do, Amelia, I want my Dada to be proud of me... even though he has never done anything to deserve that title. His sole attempt to be a parent was to try and steal us when we were strangely transformed into children. That left many innocent people dead, and still I wish him to be my father. Perhaps I am fooling myself when I say that I am here for the good of the world. I might just be a selfish and clinging 'daddy's boy' after all."

Heading back towards the main building, Pietro extended an invitation to Amelia to join him, "Let us head home before rumors are spread. You do not wish to be thought of as a dalliance, do you?"

Amelia had hoped that she could be the voice of reason for Pietro. Maybe to help him calm down or even see that all was not lost or as bad as the young Romany had imagined. He had gone out into the night with his violin looking for something. Whether he was looking for answers, absolution or something entirely different she had no idea. She preferred to talk things over generally to jump to conclusions and brash action. Maybe it was hubris, perhaps she did enjoy thinking of herself as the calm one among the maniacs. Sometimes you just didn't have the words for everyone.

"From what little I know of you, Pietro Maximoff, I believe that you would not do anything that your heart didn't tell you was the right thing to do. It seems you want to please everyone, even the father you claim Erik never was, yet still keep your heart true to your own feelings. That is most noble," the red head replied.

When Amelia was Pietro's age, she wasn't doing anything quite so noble. She was already through with her "tour of duty" in Tibet and clinging heavily to the arm of Charles all doe eyes and fawning. If only she had been so driven when she was young. Quicksilver turned to the compound and began his walk back to his quarters. "Let us head home before rumors are spread. You do not wish to be thought of as a dalliance, do you?"

Amelia smiled gently with a chuckled. "Yes. I don't think that would benefit either of reputations," she said. "Good night, Pietro. I hope that you can find what you're looking for."

Amelia Voght gave a cordial nod and then dispersed into the night. She vanished on the winds to reappear in her private quarters. As she got ready for the night she wondered if perhaps Pietro would be able to temper his father as he wanted or the youth's attempts would be for naught.