Kwannon had been called by Sinister, told to come over to Bar Sinister for 'important business'. She obviously could not refuse him. She was scared of him, afraid of what he could make her do because of what he held for her, the copy of her daughter's DNA that sat somewhere in Bar Sinister.
She had been busy preparing for the Gala, choosing her outfit, a simple blue kimono adorned with bright pink flowers. She had made sure to check what Betsy was wearing, some pompous frilly dress with a big red X slapped in the middle of it, feeling thankful she wouldn't be seen dead (or alive) wearing anything half as stupid as that. This whole party was a ruse anyway, just so they could unveil Planet Arakko and shock the world with their might.
As if anything could shock the people they had brought there.
Avengers and Wizards and Great Men who could witness their narcissism before their talent. She would be there for the drinks, of course. There had been a short supply of alcohol on the island, made even shorter by Kwannon drowning her sorrows while she wasn't on some foolish errand with Greycrow and the rest of his sorry lot.
She walked through the Gate to Bar Sinister, wandering through the empty red halls, the crystalline structure looking as if it had been formed over thousands of years before the legion of Sinisters carved their way into it, worming through like parasites intent on making themselves the gaudiest home possible.
She knew the way to the lab by now. Take a left, a right, the third left and then down the stairs to the basement.
The thick metal doors were torn from their hinges as she burst into the room, pure rage coalesced into the form of a slim Japanese woman. She found Sinister sitting in the low light, surrounded by machines whirring and humming like bluebottles. There was laboratory equipment, all manners of beakers and vials arranged haphazardly.
"Hello, dear. How are we today?" Sinister stood up, his ridiculous cape fanning out behind him. The lights turned on then, stunning her for a moment. Sinister had a massive smile on his face as if he had something nefarious planned, which was very likely, all things considered. After all, why would she be here if not to facilitate him? "You know, those doors cost a lot of money... I'll have to take it out of your wages," he chuckled softly.
Kwannon didn't answer him, looking into his scarlet eyes with rage behind her gaze.
"Ah, giving us the silent treatment, eh?" A voice from behind her spoke with a smile on its lips.
She turned as another Sinister walked down the stairs.
The Sinister with the cape was in charge, so he spoke to her while the other Sinister was taking vials of dark liquid from a small fridge in the corner of the room. "You must be wondering why I summoned you here."
Kwannon said nothing.
"Come on, humour me a little. I know you're all business now, but at least play the part. After all, you're going to have to do it during the Gala."
"What do you mean, Sinister?"
"I mean, I have a mission for you. Espionage. Something you must be used to, considering what you did before that impostor took your body." He said scandalously.
"Tell me what you want me to do." Kwannon spoke flatly, uninterested in Sinister's shenanigans.
"Fine," Sinister put his hands up playfully. "I want you to seduce Gambit for me."
The request shocked her. She gave Sinister a look of confusion. "Gambit? Why do you want me to do that with him?"
"Why, to let me access Rogue, of course. If I can gain a sample from her, I could drastically enhance my research. Unfortunately, she hasn't died yet, so I have not been able to gain a new sample from her."
"You've been taking samples from her?"
"I have old samples, from an unstable Rogue that had no control over her powers. I don't have a new one from a Rogue in control, something which I dearly need and something that you cannot refuse me."
She held her tongue. "Of course, Sinister. What do you want me to do with him?"
"As long as you get him away and make sure my little project sees him leave with you, you can do as you please. He will likely weaken to you, as he has done many times to other, less beautiful women."
"What if there's no way to separate them? If they both win the vote, they'll be right next to each other for the whole night and I won't get a chance."
"Dear, I did the polling. I know who is likely to gain a spot on their superhero team," he smirked at the thought. "Either Remy or Rogue will have a spot, but it is unlikely both will be chosen, which may make it all a little tense between them." His smile had nothing but malice behind it, goading her.
"Now, leave, and understand that what you are doing is to save your daughter, and not only some nefarious scheme planned by the one and only Mister Sinister." He paused for a second. "Well, the only one with a cape, that is."
He walked past her, and she followed him out, her face like stone, masking her displeasure at the 'important business' she had been tasked with.
Before the Gala
Kwannon was in her room, preparing herself for the Gala. Her hair wasn't doing as she wanted it to, tangling and pulling at her scalp as she tried to twist it so part of it sat upwards on the crown of her head. She was looking at herself, making sure she wasn't showing too much skin (not that it had ever been an issue when she was in her costume, but this was a special occasion, so she had to be more careful with her look). She checked her lips in the mirror, making sure the plum-colored lipstick had been applied flawlessly.
Kwannon heard Sinister shouting for her and Alex, so she sighed and walked out to meet him and the rest of the Hellions. She knew where their eyes went, to the bare skin between her breasts, and heard their sordid thoughts with little effort. Greycrow was enamoured with her, but he wasn't the mission, so she had to keep her distance from him. Orphan-Maker was initially unreadable, mostly due to the exoskeleton, but once she had managed to penetrate it psychically, she found his child-mind, which was too busy and too aloof to keep her mind fixed on his thoughts. Wild Child unsuccessfully tried to keep his fantasies at bay, imagining himself dominating her, using her as his own, but remembering she was his alpha and quickly dismissing the thought, embarrassment pushing the dream away.
"Why are you sitting around? You should be training. If we have work to do tonight, then so do you."
Sinister interrupted, "That's enough talking of fashion don'ts, my fashion do's. Let's move!" He barked the last command.
She glanced over at Greycrow. "We won't be late. You're in charge."
His eyes widened and he nodded. "That's a nice dress, by the way," but his voice was trailing off and she was already walking away, not listening to his response. She knew she would have a bit of time to mingle, a few hours to enjoy herself before the votes were cast, but after that, she needed to do as Sinister told her and go after Gambit.
Kwannon stayed close to the bar, talking to Madrox's clones and keeping her eyes on the Cajun and his open shirt, swirls crawling across the surface of the black cloth and glowing softly in hues of violet. She smiled at him when he noticed her stare, letting his purple-red eyes drift from her eyes to her body and then away, embarrassed at his ogling. She saw Sinister trying to talk to the Great Men, who humoured him, letting him bluff and bluster his way through small talk. Richards was scornful and Stark was trying very hard to avoid him. He turned, as if he knew she was watching, his crimson gaze piercing her before she sipped at her sake, letting the last of the alcohol burn as it rolled down her throat, glancing over at one of the many Madrox waiters.
"Another sake, Madrox." She communicated softly with her telepathy, silently speaking in his head. One clone obliged her, sliding over to where she sat, carrying a bottle and pouring the clear liquid into the cup Kwannon was holding.
"Thank you." She smiled thinly at him as he departed, running off to some other call by some overpaid celebrity Emma had decided to invite purely for the spectacle of the act itself.
10:37pm
Cyclops had taken the stage, his face completely shrouded by his oversized visor, even in the glaring lights of the ballroom. Jean had floated down, elegant in a sparkling emerald dress, before she had taken a vote from every mutant in the world. Kwannon had chosen Sunspot, because Roberto was the strongest of those who had put themselves forward for the post. But Polaris had taken the final spot, joining the team in the centre of the stage. Kwannon mused that she would be a very good addition herself, if not for her post with the Hellions, as well as the preparations being made for her to take over as a captain, a warrior of Krakoa in place of Scott Summers.
She spotted Gambit kissing Rogue on the cheek, but stepped into his mind, hearing his secret displeasure at not being worthy of the team he had worked with for so many years, the team he had given his life to, sacrificed his past for, but had been snubbed at the final hurdle. Of course, he didn't show anything close to those feelings with his face, laughing with his wife and his colleagues about how he would be the one looking after their cat and of course, he was annoyed at losing out to his wife, but not especially bitter.
Gambit then wandered away, speaking to Storm and Bobby, hugging them as they told him how happy they were for his wife, to give her their praise as they would be busy over on Planet Arakko making preparations for the final event and would be missing for most of the night before Remy flounced away to mingle further.
This was her best shot.
She moved seamlessly through the crowd, avoiding eyes around her and specifically avoiding Rogue. She knew Betsy had her eyes on her, but there was nothing she could do to stop that. When you take someone's body, you know their shape unconsciously. The link Betsy had with Kwannon's body was too strong, strong enough for her to sense Kwannon even when she didn't want to be seen.
And this was certainly one of those times she did not want to be seen.
Betsy saw Kwannon flowing through the crowd, focussing on someone ahead of her like a cheetah seeking her prey. She couldn't tell who she was walking to, being distracted by Pete Wisdom informing her about the issues they were having over in England with Coven Akkaba, forcing her attention back to him and away from Kwannon's mission.
Kwannon smiled as she approached Remy, catching his attention. She knew he had noticed her, as his eyes flicked to her chest before they dragged themselves up to her face, seeing her smile and the feigned joy in her eyes.
"Give Rogue my congratulations, Remy."
He sighed briefly, "I will, ma Cherie."
"Is something wrong?" Kwannon enquired further.
"No, Kwannon, there's nothing wrong."
"Remy, you're a terrible liar. I don't even have to read you to see that," she lied flawlessly.
"I don't want to say anything here," Gambit said. "Let us move away from prying eyes and prying ears." He glanced towards where Rogue stood, talking to Sinister, laughing at something he had just said.
"Sounds perfect to me. Let me take you to a safe place."
"Lead the way." He put his hand in hers, Kwannon noting the scars on his palm and across his fingers, earned when Remy first developed his powers, a fact she only knew because of Betsy.
They moved out of the hall, Kwannon scanning to make sure nobody (nobody but Rogue, that was) had seen her. Betsy was busy upstairs, shouting at some British guy with a white beard, and Sinister was trying to seal the deal on his end. The coast was clear for her to make her stylish exit.
They walked back to Krakoa, Kwannon taking him away from the Gala and through a Gate on the third floor, away from The Cuckoos and their inquisitiveness, away from Rogue and Betsy and back to the Habitats.
Kwannon had made herself a modest home, akin to a Minka, a simple place flooded with light. She had no chairs, but a single table in the centre of the room. Her bedroom was far more extravagant, as she had certainly enjoyed the pleasures of a queen-sized bed during her stays in many an expensive hotel in many a country, making sure the Hellfire Company delivered her some luxury in this paradise. She took Remy to her bedroom, sitting him down next to her on the spacious bed.
"Did you want to stay at the Gala?"
"No, I didn't. People kept praising her and nobody said a thing to me. It's as if I'm attached to her and I don't matter outside of her."
"Well, you're not. You have to exist away from her, have something outside of Betsy's team that is your own and has nothing to do with her."
He looked at her quizzically, his puzzled look dissolving as he began to understand what she meant. "Like you?" he smiled widely.
"Like me." Kwannon agreed, kissing him, her hand on his chest as he kissed her in return, reciprocating the gesture, Remy's hand slipping beneath the kimono and caressing her left breast. They fell against the puffy blue blanket, Remy sinking into the bed as Kwannon kissed him again, her hand trailing to his hard abs and sitting against his waist.
She moved off the bed, turning away from him as she slipped the kimono off, the sheer outfit floating to the floor, allowing him to admire her bare ass and slim legs, his eyes wandering up and down her figure.
She didn't remove her indigo panties, knowing they would not stay on for much longer. While she did this, Remy flung his shirt off the bed, resuming his position and letting himself stare at her large breasts and small nipples before he looked away from her, his body sagging a little.
"Kwannon, I can't." Gambit looked at her forlornly, getting up with embarrassment etched across his face.
"You can't lie to me, Remy. I saw you looking and I heard what you were thinking. You can. I want you to."
"But Rogue-"
"What does that matter to us? We live in Paradise. How do you know Rogue isn't doing the same thing right now?" She hoped Sinister had been unable to use Remy's disappearance to his advantage, but that grey-skinned weasel certainly had a way of enchanting people.
Remy made a constipated face, weighing up the pros and cons of this excursion away from his wife. Kwannon smiled at him, trying to look as irresistible as possible. "If you don't tell her, she'll never know. I wouldn't say a word. I have no allegiances to them after how they forgot about me while Betsy used my body and my looks as a puppet for her intentions. I want you. You can't have followed me all the way to my home for nothing." She was trying to push his buttons now, staring directly into his smouldering mauve eyes.
Remy had made his mind up, pushing the guilt and the doubt away and focussing back on the beautiful woman in front of him, deciding to indulge in his wants nonetheless. "Come here." He licked his lips, pushing away the nervousness as he threw the blanket aside.
They resumed their passion, Kwannon's thin fingers gliding across his pale skin as his hands drifted down her back and held her by her waist. She lay on him as they kissed again, Remy feeling the warmth of her breast and the warmth of her lips. He could smell the alcohol on her breath, a poignantly fragrant fragrance, but didn't mind, allowing her to place her hands on his belt, unbuckling it for him. He sat up to accommodate her, letting her reel the black leather through her fingers with care, letting it slip through her hand and drop off the bed.
She moved on to the tight trousers, unzipping his fly and hooking her hands against the fabric, pulling it away and off him. She saw how he was hard, as if standing to attention for her, pulling the cloth of his boxers taut with arousal. Kwannon crawled across his body, letting him touch her, caress her hips and grab her ass, groping the muscle in his thick palm. He pulled at her panties, but she pushed his hand away, moving her own hands to his boxers, freeing his thick cock before she kissed the bulging head softly. Remy's eyes closed for a second and he breathed out, allowing the feeling of pleasure to spark beneath his core.
Kwannon did not continue, denying him as she stood on the bed, forcing him to look upwards to meet her gaze. She removed her panties, stepping through them, letting Remy's eyes track down her body before they settled on her pussy. She kneeled over him, her knees meeting his ribs, teasingly close to letting herself slide onto him and work at him until they both reached a single, beautiful point of ecstasy. Kwannon thought she could just spark it in his mind then and there, make him ruin her sheets and bend to her and she wouldn't even have to lift another finger.
But she had always preferred the physical over the psychic, so she waited for another second, her finger tracing his stomach playfully. Kwannon took his cock in her hand, holding him in the right place for her before she pushed herself onto him. She rode him slowly, grinding against his hips, indulging in the heat of his thick cock inside her. Her left hand was on his chest, steadying herself while her right hand was at her crotch, working at her clit while she was full of him. He tried to reach for her breast and she took control, grabbing his wrist hard, moving his hand away from her and onto the bed, as she leaned forward to kiss him softly, a kiss that then turned harsher and more forceful, her purple lips opening as she pushed her tongue into his mouth, deepening their arousal.
Her hand was still rubbing her crotch and she felt her body quivering a little, her pleasure rising quicker than she had expected. She started riding him faster, letting her hips do more of the work, building a rhythm in the motion of her body. She enjoyed playing with her prey when he didn't even realise he was being used.
Remy was certainly persistent and he tried to touch her breasts again, hands moving more tentatively towards her chest this time. This time, she allowed him, giving him a chance to play with her breasts, letting him grab them and rub her nipples with his thumbs, a feeling that made Kwannon shudder unconsciously, relishing in the cold of his fingertips as they brushed across the goosebumps forming on her skin and over her areolae.
His hands moved and his legs spun and he was on top of her now, but she didn't mind. He kissed her softly, one hand behind her head and the other behind her back, cradling her in his thick arms. Kwannon wrapped her legs around his hips, holding him close as they kissed more passionately.
Her body was his and he made sure to praise it, his hips moving slowly as his lips grazed the sensitive skin of her neck, feeling Kwannon react to each soft touch, a slight tensing of the neck or a quick motion of the head or a clench of a fist when he licked her nipple. She kissed his cheek and ran her hands down his strong back, losing herself a little in the way he pleasured her.
She felt him brush her cheek lightly with the back of his scarred hand before he placed them on either side of her, steadying himself as he pounded her faster, a grumble coming from his throat as his own pleasure rose. For Kwannon, she understood that this was the best way for him to exercise his power. She kissed him and as their lips met messily, he held himself inside her, keeping them as close as possible. She smiled as she saw purple on his lips and cheeks, trails of their passion. Her eyes closed, her body starting to succumb to his relentless thrusting.
Remy gasped softly, his eyes opening and closing quickly, the feeling coming far too fast, overwhelming him, forcing him to pull out of her as he slowed his breathing. She saw how slick his cock was, wanted to taste him, wanted to finish him. Kwannon rolled so she was on her front as he knelt in front of her, her lips inches away from his hips. She smiled at him widely, her eyes fixed on his cock. Kwannon's lips slid over him, a hand on his base, pumping as her lips did the same on his oversensitive head.
She felt him throbbing and he grabbed her head roughly, keeping her over him as his cock twitched hard, ropes of thick cum spraying into Kwannon's mouth. He tasted tasteless, but there was a metallic tinge on her tongue as she swallowed, feeling it slide down her throat.
Kwannon kissed him on the cheek again and walked to the kitchen, where she filled a cup with water, gulping it down to get rid of the taste of him. She went back to the bedroom again, where Remy was putting his clothes back on, fiddling with the collar of the shirt. Kwannon picked up her kimono, draping it properly over her shoulders and tying it off.
They walked out of her house and towards the flowery gate, Remy placing his hand on her waist and bringing her closer to him.
"I'm sorry, Remy."
"Wha-?" He begun to speak but Kwannon had brought her hand into a fist, forming a purple dagger of pure psychic energy before she punched him in the side of the head, rocking him, making him stumble and fall with the impact of the strike.
She strode away quickly, getting away from him and returning to the Gala before Remy had recovered and realised that he had lost track of time. He would probably have attributed it to his drunken state, in the same way he would have forgotten most of the events of this night by the time he woke up the next morning.
Remy staggered back to the Gala, taking a glass of champagne from Madrox and looking around for his wife, not seeing her and going to talk with Kurt, who was outrageously inebriated and was babbling unintelligibly about faith and something called the Spark, before he threw up into his pirate hat with a groan and a whimper, walking out of the Gala solemnly to dispose of his mess. Remy was happy Kurt had had a hat, or his shoes would have been ruined, and he did not want that.
Kwannon was looking for Sinister with her mind, but could not manage to detect his thoughts. Sighing, she tried focusing on Rogue, letting her mind drift throughout Emma's compound until she found her, sitting in a room on the third floor with a head filled with grey-skinned men.
So she went to the third floor, walking towards where Rogue was and noticing a Sinister walking through one of the doors. Then another Sinister emerged behind him. And another. The last one had a cape, while the rest were merely capeless, so Kwannon knew which one to talk to.
"It's done. Did you get what you wanted?"
The three Sinisters nodded. "Of course we did." The way they all spoke together was uncomfortably eerie.
The Sinister with the cape slipped a hand into his pocket and produced a vial of dark liquid, waving it in her direction. "Thank you for your participation, Kwannon. Now let's have some fun." He passed the vial to a clone and both walked in opposite ways down the corridor. Kwannon walked towards Rogue, who seemed completely oblivious to the conspiracy being openly discussed behind her.
Kwannon tapped Rogue on the shoulder and, as she turned slowly, she punched her, a psi-sword through her temple which sent her spinning and making her forget in the same way she had made Remy forget just minutes before.
The mission was done. Now she could have some fun.