Long Island, New York
Late November
After a while, it was made known to a great many trusted mutants that there were a couple of places on Earth that would always welcome and be a home to those who were born - different. Xavier's School was the first established home, but following Carter Blaire's demise, his daughter Alison decided to use her inheritance to never bar mutants from her family land. They, the mercenary team of gifted people, code named X-Men, were her true family now. Alison's origin story and rise to fame would be earmarked with plenty of turning points that shaped her into the hero she became. Even in the horrible times of being rejected by her parents and by some of her initial fans, she still thanked the universal grace responsible for the teachable moments. Her father loved her, but he was also a public figure. No matter how much Carter begged and implored her not to go down her true path, it eventually taught her that love is sometimes conditional even when ideally it should be always without conditions. The years after his death, Alison coped with the contradicting memories of a father whom she loved dearly, but took strength to forgive his prejudicial tendencies. Can a parent still love their child while still disagree with their lifestyle?
At the Carter Blaire mansion, it became a home to those always welcome. Alison would have it no other way. "You are always welcome in my home," she said to her guests. It was her special blessing to those who entered it. She knew how much it weighed on her to not be welcome in her own home with the freedom to express herself with special abilities. She changed all of that with polar opposite house rules. She powered others to share their light. On one particular evening in November, she opened up her father's mansion property and invited ALL X-Men able to come for a feast - and maybe a little concert.
Alison was fashionably late to her own party. But that was how she made her grand entrances. As a public celebrity and solo artist, she turned heads walking past adoring fans. Her style and grace was a part of the show. Even then, she loved to keep them guessing. Just what fashion plate would she promote? What hairstyle would she flaunt? Would she even coast in on her signature bejeweled roller skates or update the look with her in-line skates from time to time? She took the luxury limo from a concert at Madison Square Garden and came right home. Alison exited the vehicle in a very low key ensemble. A navy blue blazer, pearl blouse and a rather sharp pleated khakis. Clop, clop, clop went the navy high heels through the front driveway and up the stairs to the grand entrance of the Blaire Mansion.
Once Alison reached the large front door, an assistant security doorman had turned to open the door for her. She chuckled. "Oh, please!" Another house rule of her own was to always open her own doors - especially the ones to her own home. She might have assistants, but she's also reminding herself of never becoming too big that she couldn't do anything for herself. "I know you're just doing your job, but please just let me open my own door."
She reached the grand foyer, a second set of cascading stairs swooped upwards to the living room, entertaining room, the guest bedroom, and a mini balcony along the side walls. Already some party goers noticed her entrance and saluted her with their champagne flutes. It was an elegant affair as each guest mingled with delight. However, there was one figure already conspicuous with his lack of refined fashion. Even as revered as a teammate and friend, he also was still welcome, despite his casual dusty leather jacket, blue jeans, broken in leather boots. He picked up his eyes at her from underneath his outback brim hat.
"Nice little shindig ya got goin here."
"And it is so nice of you to come, Logan." Alison smiled at him with a pleasing grin and spectacularly white teeth. Her friend Logan had been gripping a bottle of wine by the neck and drinking it straight on the grand staircase. He looked out of place and yet made the very best in the spirit of the party. Alison Blare's house is his house. "You know that's a $400 bottle of Château Margaux you're guzzling."
Logan continued his glassy-eyed gaze at the performer. "Well worth the waste. I'll pay you back."
"Did Charles and the guys arrive?"
"Yeah, I think they're in the dining hall. This is some sweet digs ya got here, Ali."
Alison walked up to him and looked past the staircase to the horde of guests all huddled around the archway to the dining hall and the kitchen prep room. She could see the caterers in their fancy white coats and several servers patrolling the upper chambers of the mansion with varied appetizers, hors d'oeuvre, and booze.
"Have the guests of honor arrived yet?"
"Yeah, I think they're in the Disco Room."
"Thanks," Alison said as she placed a hand on his shoulder. She let a gleam of light come from the back of her hand and rest gently on the nape of Logan's neck. "You are welcome in my home."
At the top of the stairs mingled a few more of her familiar teammates and friends: Dr. McCoy, Jean, Scot, and Warren. They were all dressed in their Sunday best with Dr. McCoy taking slightly more attention to himself as a bastion of sophisticated refinement. Weather or not he did it consciously or subconsciously, it was to overcome his mutant beastly blue body hair transformation.
"Doctor McCoy! So glad you could come too! You are always welcome in my home."
The other teammates gave Alison big smiles and head nods. She tried to make her rounds welcoming the guests lightly as she was sure they were perhaps already waiting 'till her holiday concert and subsequent appearance in the Macy's Day Parade. They were all starvin' for the carvin'!
"This is such a swanky event, Ali! How did you pull this off? Who is that over there? Do I see the Piano Man at this party?" Jean pulled Alison aside hoping to talk with her.
"Oh, that's just my friend Billy. He from the Island and agreed to play for us at the party."
Amazed that Alison could still have some celebrity pull, Jean Grey persisted to ask her more. "So, I bet you didn't make all of this by yourself?"
"No, this is just a little thing I had my craft services cook up this weekend. They're a company my dad used to call out to for catering when he had to entertain his private practice clients. But, hey, Nothing but the best for my team and my friends. Right?"
"It all smells wonderful from in there!" Jean Grey could feel the welcoming spirit psychically off of Alison. "What's on the menu? Does Scott have to eat the cranberries?"
"Sure thing! And if there's more, you can take some home in the gift foil!" Alison Blaire already tried to coast her way through the receiving line of guests stepping away and deeper into her multi-million dollar mansion. "It's going to be buffet style, but you have to let me introduce my guests of honor. I promised them all the first helpings!"
Alison stepped over to the series of doors on the north side of the mansion. This is where she liked to be most in her home. After she took over her family mansion, she converted some of the guest rooms and office into a disco themed dance floor and recording studio. How else would she live with her music career? The Disco Dazzler keeping alive the style and sound that started her singing star career! The bay doors swung open as Alison the Dazzler immediately started grooving to the disco synthesized beats. In this room, she found a familiar foes turned fellow mutants Toad and Pyro loafing on the Art Deco couches. They both looked pretty glum to her perhaps isolated and bored watching a flashy disco ball illuminate the empty parquet dance floor.
"Com'mon, guys, get up and dance if you're going to be in here." There was little to no response from Toad or Pyro. "Did you bring the Morlocks like I asked you to? Where are they at?"
"I don't think they want to be found." said Toad. "It took us forever to heard them all on to the shuttle van." Pyro, still disinterested, managed to motion with his fingers pointing that the mutant Morlocks could be found huddled behind another high-backed couch furniture.
The Morlocks were a subsect of the mutant race of beings. Whereas the mutant team known as X-Men were all blessed with stunning abilities, the Morlocks got the short end of the genetic stick. They mutated beyond normal, to be seen in public society on par with other handicapped deformities. Where one Morlock might have the power of impenetrable skin, it was still riddled with nasty colored veins on the surface. One Morlock could have superior bone structure, but only if those bones weren't so pertuding outside for everyone to see. They were different than the superhero mutants. The X-Men got all of the glory and recognition and still some place in society while the Morlocks lived as hermits in the dark crevasses to the planet.
Alison still tried to be the life of the party in the room. She gyrated her shoulders to the beat and put on another mini-show for her guests. "What 'cha guys doin' back here. We're going to start serving Thanksgiving dinner for everyone." The potential mere mention of food to the misanthropic Morlocks got a few of the group to pay attention. Alison eyed them all up. There were male and female and maybe some other various anthropomorphic humanoids in the mutant group. Where the celebrity guests had all dressed for the occasion, these were not. Some weren't even dressed at all. One mutant had been given a brown trench coat to cover his bright pink naked skin. He looked like a child's size, but with very large alien eyes the size of door knobs.
"Okay, maybe we'll come back into this room and dance the night away after dinner. How's that sound?" Alison still shimmied her way around the room as if she wanted to be a pied piper of party poopers. Her body bounced to the beat bringing back all the lights she used to do for her concert crowds. "Wheeew!" She tried her best to encourage a good time and even grabbed the little naked pink mutant's hand leading him back out doors. But there was a contrast from the disco dance studio simulation to the outside gathering well-to-do, the Morlocks winced at the brightness they weren't used to. They shied away from the glitzy glamor angling their faces downward as others averted their eye contact.
Alison Blaire, the Dazzler, marched past the upstairs foyer guests hand in hand with her new Morlock friend. "Okay, everyone, we're going to start serving Thanksgiving dinner". The house guests had suddenly gone stark silent once the surprise guests had appeared from the dark disco ball room.
"Oh, my God! What are THEY doing here?" Said a disembodied voice in the party crowd. Alison perked up at clearly hearing those words and glanced the room at who possibly could have blurted those words. She looked past it and shouted through the crowd.
"We've got white meat, dark meat, dino meat, dressing, soups," While Alison was calling out she still had to slip into entertainer mode like she was on a concert stage. She made a stroking motion along her calves up to her thighs. "And we have oh so PLENTY of legs! And thighs!" The quick tease prompted a few catcall whistles and a delightful stare from the adoring pink overcoated Morlock.
"What about the breasts?!" said another cat-calling guest. To which Alison the rock star sensation obliged them with a shimmy of her chest in the anonymous voice direction.
"I hope you've been enjoying yourselves so far and maybe tonight I'll drop a few MORE surprises tonight."
The Morlock social graces were non existent. Perhaps this was their first time in a million dollar mansion receiving a professionally cooked meal in sterling silver crock pots. The silverware was so shiny they could see themselves in the catering trays. They were led into the dining room, got in single file, and looked with starved faces at the tables lining the walls filled with another chafing dish filled with delicious Thanksgiving food. This didn't change their behavior, though. Despite being shy, the poor Morlocks grabbed with their meaty hands some of the food for their plate and quickly made their way down the single-file line. No cutlery among their hungry habits could be found. Some of the group grabbed the turkey slices while others splashed the gravy tureen on nothing but an otherwise clean plate.
At first, Alison wanted to regret inviting the Morlocks to the party. Their uncouth nature might actually spoil the dinner for the remaining guests. Hopefully, they had enough of reserves to replace anything along the serving buffet line. But her big heart of good intentions still rhythmically beat to the spiritual reminders that she was doing the right thing. They too were welcome in her home. While monitoring the hungry mutants sloppy lack of manners, she felt a gentle tug on her arm. It was her 4 foot tall friend who was still gloriously naked underneath an gaping trenchcoat.
"Miss Alison, can I tell you something?" The little mutant begged with such adoring puppy dog eyes and a wider than usual mouth. She replied with an affirmative head nod. "This is my first thanksgiving with people. A thanksgiving that I actually get to eat a hot meal."
"Oh my, what did you do before?"
The little pink-skinned mutant broke his eye contact and felt shame of having to admit his poor diet. "I don't get to eat much. I don't seem to need it as often as normal people do. But this one guy I know, we were staying warm around this trash fire and he gave me his slice of pizza that we found in the dumpster. I was still thankful for it though." The sudden sad story absolutely broke Alison's heart. Was this the way that the Morlock mutants had to survive? Sure he was freakishly different, but did that have to doom him to a life of vagrancy? "Today, Miss Alison, I'm thankful that you brought me here for this party." He continued to avoid making eye contact with his party host. "I'm thankful for you," he said sheepishly.
"Well," Alison said trying to choke back a stream of tears. "I'm thankful for you coming to my party. What is your name, little one?"
"They named me Artie."
When Alison the disco Dazzler rocked into her stage persona she downshifted into a matronly emotional state. She felt like she had to help the little pink mutant out by showing him to a more suitable dignity. She gathered Artie the 4 foot mutant's coat around him and cinched it closed with a cloth belt. She ran her palms over the jacket to check for dirt or lint. It tickled demure Artie. He giggled like a kid though a larger-than-human mouth. It looked like he was more of a puppet than a real living mutant Morlock. Alison pulled Artie in closer to her and kissed him on the forehead. If a pink skinned mutant could blush, Artie would be doing it.
"Artie, you are welcome In my home."
Not soon after that moment, the sound of a crashing dinner plate and a tray of cheeses spilled all over the serving tables.
"NORMIE!" One of the larger Morlocks yelled. "NORMMMMMMMIIIIEEEEEE" Alison looked back at the party line still making their way through the Thanksgiving line. What was making all the ruckus was another Morlock guest that she didn't recognize. He was a stout bodied man with long dark black greasy hair and a leather punk rock jacket with the sleeves missing. He seemed to be experiencing some kind of mutant power manifestation. His beady black eyeballs were excreting a thick black smoke from the corner of his eyes and from his fingertips. Alison didn't know what agitated him, but now the party was on the brink of ruination.
Dazzler went back to the start of the buffet line and confronted the generic Morlock. "What's wrong?"
"I ain't eatin' no food that come from some stinkin' Normie."
Alison sighed. The other X-Men teammates had followed in to the catering area to observe the commotion. "I just wanted this to go right." Alison the Dazzler mumbled to herself. "It was going to be a nice catered meal with my friend mutants and non-mutants alike for Thanksgiving holiday and look what happens."
"What is the matter with you!? I PAID for that turkey. I paid for that dinner. I invited you into my home because I heard some of you don't have anywhere to go for the holidays and you want to throw a hissy fit?" Alison began to present her own mutant power forming a randomly placed sparkle lights around her. "So what if the catering staff aren't who you agree with?" The mansion got quiet to observe the developing drama.
"I do not tolerate that kind of talk about another person. You are simply going to have to find a way to co-exist with someone who's life you don't agree with or who's different from you or who has a different point of view. Learn to get along!" Dazzler fired back.
The annoyed Morlock turned his attention to Dazzler. "So, I'm supposed to take food from this normie? He probably spit into it somewhere. I know their type! Look at him. He's probably some lazy jerk trying to get by on some minimum wage job and the only way he could get his jollies is by dirtying up the pot roast or taking a shite in the dressing. All them normies. Don't even cover their mouths when they sneeze."
"What would the Professor do in this situation," Dazzler wondered in her mind. She startled herself when she got an unexpected answer back. In a male voice originating from what seemed like her own head, it was that soothing cadence of Professor Charles Xavier, the man who became a mentor to all mutants. "Why don't you just let me handle your guest and go back to doing what you do best!"
Dazzler heard the motorized wheelchair sound moving closer towards her and the Morlock. Professor Charles made his way to help the situation. He made a simple hand gesture along his temple and the mutant Morlock stood helpless. Perhaps a more forceful lecture from Charles, the perennial father figure, would work. Dazzler stood her ground, but opted to fade out her mutant light show sparkles.
"Oh, Professor! Maybe you're not the only one who knows how to soothe the savage beast!" Dazzler continued to allow Charles to communicate telepathically to her by reading her thoughts and feelings.
"Yes, Ali. I can't wait to hear a new song from your new album."
"Thank you, Professor!" was what she was thinking, but only smiled at him in front of her dining party guests.
Blaire Family Mansion
Long Island, NY
Later that evening
Dazzler excused herself from the dining hall and threw on one of her old costumes that she used to wear on tour. It was an elegant black cocktail dress, slit up the right side, that sparkled in even the dimmest of lights. She had her choice of wigs, but instead let her short blond bob flow with the sound. And while she was about to perform again, it was going to be special for her friends. She grabbed the classic cardioid microphone from the stand. She had her friend Billy from Long Island playing chamber music on piano. He was a balding man in his early 70s dressed to match the star of the stage in a sparkling performers sport coat and collared shirt. Even though they were indoors, he still played it cool with some stylish sunglasses on.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to present to you my sidekick for the evening, He doesn't have any super powers himself, but you all know him by his code name The Piano Man." Dazzler paused for applause for her co-performer. "So, while I have you all here I'd like to sing a few songs tonight. Some you know, but another that will be coming off the new album headed straight to the top of the charts"
What came next was somewhat of a surprise to her guests. The first song was one of her more popular disco hits, but changed with a new classical piano arrangement. She hoped that the song would catch on with a deeper meaning.
Believe what I tell you what I see
the human that made me feel to be free
your heart beat synchronous for me
to show others in this world you oversee
Once she was done with that song, she transitioned cleanly into a new song.
The room with four walls and a roof isn't containing my love.
You're all family now, it's the bricks and mortar of what molded into who I am.
I let you in to embrace my true self
So be kind while you visit for YOU ARE ALL WELCOME IN MY HOME.