Despite it being a beautiful Saturday morning Principal Darkholme was in her office at school.. There was important paperwork piled on her desk, and her... immediate supervisor... was seated across from her, looking at the file folders
"Some interesting selections here," he mused.
The Principal tapped her fingers together, her eyes flicking to the pages on the desk before her from behind the sheen of her glasses.
"I had thought you might approve," she purred. "I've had my eye on each of them, save for the Connelly girl, for a while now."
"Yes, the Connelly girl. You mentioned a brother?"
"Yes, her twin brother." The principal leaned forward, her fingers tapping together. "While he was an interesting prospect at first, I recall seeing him getting rather friendly with a number of Charles Xavier's students. I worry he may have already been swayed. Especially as I've heard talk about his admittance to that sorry excuse for a 'school'."
"I see. Best to establish the situation with her first then, and proceed from there." He handed her back half of the folders. "Let's not delay any further."
000
A stranger lingered on the corner of an otherwise quiet and unassuming street, as the sound of people shouting set the nearby dogs off barking.
The ground under the stranger's feet shook, as the houses' lights flickered in concert with the shouting voices. A number of shouted words and phrases could be heard, though the context was lost in the squabble of voices and rumbling of the earth.
An older voice screamed: "Deadbeat punk" , "Freak" , and "regret ever taking you in", while a younger, angrier voice shouted back sharp retorts that culminated in the front door slamming open.
The young man with his long brown hair and jean jacket stomped his way out of the house, and into the jeep parked crookedly on the driveway, shouting back over his shoulder.
"At least I'm not trying to be something I'm not, you old bastard!" As he started up the car, he flipped the house off with a scowl. "Maybe I won't come back this time."
The car screamed out of the driveway, and began roaring down the street..and the tremors in the earth finally stopped.
The stranger watched the car go with interest- and then moved to follow.
A short drive later, Lance found himself down near the docks, in the dirty, hazy area of the nearly abandoned warehouse district.
Lance was angry. His foster father had laid into him again of course. Just like always, the argument started criticizing his friends, his outfit, his 'attitude' before launching into the real problem the bastard had with him.
And that was exactly the thing he was going to use to vent his frustrations. His mutation. Ever since he discovered what he could do, the old man's treatment had gotten worse and worse.
"A freak, huh?" Lance snarled, gripping his hands tight as he stomped one foot on the ground, throwing his fists out towards one of the old warehouses. The ground began to shake, violently, a crack jutting from his foot, out to the warehouse as it started to shake.
"Keep mocking me, old man, see what happens!" He hissed at the building as a number of already broken windows cracked and shattered in the quake.
A shadow slipped into view nearby, the figure's feet not brushing the shaking ground.
"I doubt that he would like what he saw," a sonorous voice declared. "I do, however."
Lance's hands pulled away, and he stumbled a few feet backwards as the rumbling stopped.
"W-what?" He turned to face the shadow, raising his fists "Look, I dunno who you are, but I'm not in the mood right now for someone to start shit with me, alright?"
"That is the last thing that I have come here to do, my young friend."
The man he turned to face was standing around a foot off the ground. The figure was a rather handsome man, of indeterminate age. Somewhere beyond forty, but difficult to tell beyond that- with piercing blue eyes and a lock of white hair visible. He was in a handsomely fitted maroon business suit and matching hip length jacket, with a purple tie. It would have been ostentatious, but fashionable, if it weren't accessorized by the odd helmet that the man was also wearing.
Lance stared at the man with an incredulous frown, crossing his arms firmly over his chest.
"...and who are you supposed to be? A Knight of the Conference Table?"
The man snorted, and descended to the ground, raising his hands briefly, before walking towards Lance.
"Not the most inaccurate accusation leveled against me I suppose. But no. My name is Magneto."
Lance tensed slightly as he approached, but made an effort to stand his ground in front of the stranger. He raised an eyebrow
"Magneto huh? Is that how you were floating? magnetic propulsion or whatever?"
"It is," he nodded. He tapped his shoe on the ground and Lance heard a subtle 'clink' noise. "Much as you have mastery over a certain element of the earth."
"..." Lance glanced off to the side "Guess it's pretty obvious when you see me doin' it, huh? Yeah. I can start earthquakes, I've been able to for years."
"An admirable talent," Magneto agreed. "And quite useful, in the right circumstances. What have you done with it thus far?"
"You think so?" Lance asked, looking down at his hands. "So far it's only been real good for a few things. Used it to steal some stuff in middle school, I guess...'cause Todd and I needed it to get by. I used it the other day to get back at some kids from school who were harassing the new girl, too."
"Noble enough causes," the older man mused, "If somewhat... petty. Perhaps you'd be interested in a somewhat grander cause?"
"Grander cause, huh?" Lance looked the man over "Now you sound like that guy who tried convincing Todd to join that weird school of his. How grand of a cause are we talkin'?"
"Hm," he snorted. "Charles Xavier and I differ quite irreconcilably in the matter of our philosophy. If you found what you heard of him lacking, perhaps you'll be more interested in my perspective. I'm here to extend you the opportunity to truely fight for the betterment of our kind. Of mutant kind."
"...For the betterment of mutants, huh? Yeah...yeah I can vibe with that. Someone's gotta do it, after all, and the humans sure fuckin' ain't." Lance stuck his hands in his pockets, looking Magneto in the eyes with the very start of a grin. "Alright, old man. you've got my attention."
Magneto's lip quirked to be called 'old man' but it was unclear if it was displeasure or wry amusement.
"I'm pleased to hear it," he said, crossing his arms. "I'm putting together a team that will be able to respond to human threats against our race, as well as to... anticipate and counter them preemptively. Make no mistake, this is not an invitation for... pacifists."
Lance laughed , waving one hand towards the broken windows of the warehouse and the shattered asphalt between them.
"You don't have to worry about that. I've never run from a fight that mattered. If it needs doing, I do it." He met Magneto's eyes. "What you're saying is you're gettin' a group together to fight back against the humans who've been trying to put us down, right? People like my foster dad. Or fucking politicians. The cops. all those bastards, right? Some kinda... rebellion?"
"Young man, that is exactly what I'm saying. Interested in joining the team?"
Magneto extended a gloved hand to him. Lance grabbed it without hesitation.
"You're damn right I am, sir." he declared with a broad grin "I'll shake down any bastard who even tries getting in our way."
000
Dorian had been at Calamity since it had opened at noon. He didn't really have anywhere else to be at the moment, and he was hoping to eventually find somewhere to spend the night. For the moment, though, he was just dancing. His coat tied around his waist, moving to the sound of the DJ's music.
It was one of those Saturdays at Calamity. It wasn't late enough that the real party had started, but it wasn't early enough that it was dead . It was mostly a sea of people just like him...people with nowhere else to be and not much else to do. People there were just looking for a good time.
The DJ's beats were playing, Susan-the owner of Calamity, was washing cups behind the counter and reading some romance novel on her tablet crowd small enough she didn't need to spend every moment taking orders.. So far, though, Dorian had yet to find a lead on his living situation tonight.
At least he was having a good time. But still, he scanned the crowd for interesting- and especially handsome- faces that might welcome a dance partner or someone to chat them up.
His eyes fell on a young man dancing nearby. He was dressed in a deep blue and white tank top and fishnet shirt with his skinny jeans clinging to his narrow hips. He was a handsome young man, with crimson-likely dyed- hair done up in a short, wavy style that fell partially over one of his bright and golden eyes. He was lithe, catlike, and wore a sly smile on his face as he danced a little closer to where Dorian was standing.
Dorian's smile widened as his gaze fell on the young man, and he made certain that their eyes met as he danced closer, looking for signs of interest. The boy made eye contact with him, his smile growing a little wider as his moves took him within a few feet of Dorian. There was definite interest in his eyes, if that smile was anything to go by.
It was he who spoke up over the DJ first. He had a nice voice, kind of breathy...husky even, with a slight purr to it.
"Don't think I've seen you here before, stranger."
"I was just thinking the same of you," Dorian purred, moving close enough that the two were nearly up against one another. "A mistake we should correct at once."
The young man danced with him, not shying away in the least as they moved to the DJ's music together.
"You read my mind, brother." he winked playfully. "You come here often? You're a pretty good dancer."
"More often lately. I'm surprised I haven;t seen you here. I know i wouldn't have overlooked you."
"Guess we just missed one another. Not surprised, given I've got a few haunts besides this one."
"Well now you have me curious," Dorian smirked. "I do love a mystery."
"Then you'll love me." the boy purred. "I've been told I've got kind of a mystique about me."
"How about we get a drink and you can introduce me to more of this mystique of yours," Doian offered. "And maybe you can find a little of mine too."
"Why don't we." The boy offered his hand with a smirk "I know a nice spot tucked away where we can have a little privacy too."
"Delightful. Lead on, handsome."
Two sodas and a brief chat with Susan later, and the mysterious boy had led Dorian to a round table on the second floor of the club. It appeared to be set up where the confessionals once stood, and even had a curtain that one could pull closed for a bit of privacy and to shut out the light and noise.
The boy drew the curtain shut with a smile.
"I hope you don't mind."
"Quite the contrary." Dorian slid into his seat gracefully and leaned his chin on his hand. "You're a well connected man it seems."
"You've got no idea." The boy settled into the seat opposite Dorian, looking into his eyes with his bright and golden stare. "But maybe you'll get to find out."
"Color me intrigued. You can call me Dorian, by the by."
"A charming name for a charming man… You can call me...Mystique." He leaned on his hand.
"Well, hmmm, I can't get you for false advertising can I? Maybe I ought to try introducing myself as Prince Charming some time."
Mystique pressed his hand to his mouth, glancing off to the side briefly. He may have been chuckling softly-or maybe he was just a little flustered, given how he caught Dorian's eyes and seemed to flush.
"Maybe you should. It'd suit you."
"Then feel free to call me Charming as often as you like, Mystique." He raised his glass to him.
"I may very well do just that, Charming." He raised his soda to him in return. "You know...I can tell just by looking at you that you're a very special man."
"Oh you can tell already hmm? I haven't even had a chance to strut my stuff yet." Dorian smirked over his glass.
"Have you ever wanted the chance to?" Mystique brushed his finger over the rim of his cup, looking at him with those smoldering eyes. "Have the chance to really strut your stuff?"
Dorian leaned down on his hands, watching Mystique with his own amber gaze.
"I can't say the idea hasn't crossed my mind. Color me even more curious, dear."
"What if I told you I wasn't being entirely truthful with you." He offered with a mysterious smile. "and admitted that I have seen you before...and I've seen what that lovely voice of yours can do."
Dorian raised his eyebrows, his lips quirking in amusement.
"Oh is that so? I have been known to carry a tune."
"How impressive. I like a man with perfect pitch." He leaned on his hands , and half closed his eyes "it's a shame that you're forced to hide it by people who simply don't understand."
Dorian's smile grew, as did his curiosity. He leaned forward slightly.
"I'm sensing that you may be a man of peculiar talent yourself. Or are you simply an admirer?"
"Why don't I drop the masquerade for you and lay my cards on the table-so to speak."
"I'd be delighted to peruse your hand, dear."
He chuckled, and in a moment, there was a strange ripple through his form.
Tanned skin gave way to deep blue, his form shifting strangely in his vision until the handsome young man was no longer sitting opposite him-rather, a woman with crimson hair, long and flowing as it parted around a small skull charm worn on her forehead. Her skin had a strange quality to it, aside from the striking blue hue, but it was difficult to tell exactly what it was in the dim light.
She tented her fingers again, smiling with ruby painted lips, her golden eyes still meeting his.
"I am Mystique-and I'm here to offer you a place where you can do some real good for your own kind."
Dorian looked her over with a fascinated gaze- an altogether different kind of fascination than he'd been eyeing her with a moment previously.
"Not exactly the reveal I was expecting, my dear, but striking nonetheless." He stroked the fluff of mustache on his upper lip. "As for your offer I am quite intrigued."
"I've got another trick up my sleeve I expect you'll find even more surprising, Mr. Conner...but there will be time for that later. For now..." Her smile turned just the slightest bit sharp. "Now, I expect you've already gotten quite a few lectures from that eggheaded fool Professor Xavier on the topic of Mutants and mutation so I'll spare you the grand introduction and cut right to the chase."
Dorian snorted- an almost choked sound of amusement.
"Ah I see you've met the man. Do go on."
"Unfortunately. We're well acquainted. And have been for years." She tented her fingers again. "Professor Xavier...no matter his intentions, preaches about unity and peace with the humans while refusing to address the very real problems so many of his own species face in the name of bowing to mankind. We, as Homo Superior, are feared and hated by the humans around us. Persecuted and hunted even now for gifts we were simply born with."
"So I have unfortunately noticed," he agreed. "Not exactly all sunshine and roses for us, mores the pity."
Dorian drummed his fingers thoughtfully on his chin as he listened, watching her. He'd initially entered the booth with nothing more than an evening hookup in mind, but this was- intriguing. Not necessarily more so, but in a different way. He had to admit, he hadn't been especially fond of the professor lately.
"But why should we have to bow to humanity and it's prejudices?" Mystique asked. "Especially now, as in the shadows they're already hard at work planning ways to destroy us?"
"You know it's a very similar argument that preceded my exit from the institute," he mused.
"Is that so?" she frowned "Why am I not surprised, given all I know of the man."
"Indeed. I've been growing less fond by the day of hiding and bowing to prejudice."
"Magneto and I are fighting for a world where we no longer need to hide or bow to those who believe in only their own power and the status quo." She smirked, and offered her hand with a proud purr to her voice. "We're forming a Brotherhood of Mutants. A group that will fight for mutant liberation, no matter who tries to stop us."
Dorian's jaw tightened slightly, and he hesitated, his hand partially raised, but not taking hers yet.
"Magneto, hmm? I was under the impression that he worked alone."
"His right hand wears many faces," she said with a sly smile. "I should know. they're all mine."
Mystique paid and shook her head before continuing.
"...he's been fighting for our cause a long time now, but the time has finally come...the mutant population is on the rise and the humans are looking to contain the threat they seem to see us as. It's high time we unite as one against it, don't you think?"
Dorian hesitated a moment longer as he considered. His friends at the institute would certainly consider this a betrayal. But did he really have friends at the institute any more? It didn't feel like it. After all, hadn't they let him on his own all summer after the fight? They hadn't exactly been banging down the door-he-didn't-have to get him back. And what did they really do for mutant rights in any case?
Dorian's fingers twitched, and he took Mystique's hand.
"High time, Mystique, dear. I think you're onto something."