Steel balls clicked rhythmically against each other, the staccato beat the only sound echoing through the darkened chamber in the heart of the Brotherhood's base. Pale moonlight glinted off the clicking spheres, the master of magnetism brooding in silence, his gaze upon the spheres but not really seeing them.
As he had grown older he had found that sleep had grown ever more elusive, a few hours snatched at a time, often interrupted by the urgent need to empty his bladder. Old age was creeping up on him ever faster and there was still so much he needed to do, the task of establishing mutants in their proper place still frustratingly out of reach even after decades of effort. The thought brought a flash of anger, the metal spheres crushed and tossed to the wall with the briefest of thoughts, his anger already ebbing as fast as it had come.
Enough of this, if he could not sleep he would at least do something productive. Raising himself out of his chair, ignoring the creaking of his protesting bones, he strode purposefully out of the office, following the well-trod path that led to the room housing his second in command. She required even less sleep than he and having taken the weekend away from Washington she might welcome the visit, even though strategy was on his mind and not other more...enjoyable activities.
He did not bother to knock, the metal door sliding open at his will, entering the perennially dark room preoccupied with his thoughts. "Mystique, the operation at..." He stopped dead.
The creature, he couldn't even begin to categorise what it was, loomed large in the centre of the room, chalk white, two of six rangy muscular limbs barbed with spikes giving the thing more than twice his height. Magneto took an involuntary step back as two tentacles with flower-like toothy maws snapped around to face him, the creature's equally horrific bony pointed skull and jaws, lined with viciously sharp teeth making him shudder inwardly, his gaze transfixed by the pulsing V of blood red flesh and rotted green mucus where the creature's nose should be. That was where he would strike it, a metal spear clean through its foul...
"Yes Erik?" Mystique's multitoned voice emanated from the creature's mouth, it's blood red eyes flashing yellow as they met his. Although the dual tone of her voice made it hard to tell, he had known Mystique long enough that he could sense she was amused and he straightened himself instantly. "Very droll." He remarked acidly, raising an eyebrow at the horrific mien his fellow mutant had chosen to assume and folding his arms calmly, eyeing the towering beast with a cold stare even as his heartbeat started to slow back down. "The operation at the power company is proceeding as scheduled?" He continued, determined not to give her the satisfaction of seeing just how rattled he had been.
"Of course." Her answer as succinct as ever, the shapeshifter never saying more when less would do, the Mystique-creature shifted it...her stance slightly, that foul nasal V vibrating with a truly disgusting noise as it...she took a breath and it was only then that the smell reached him, a putrid stench that made him gag in his throat. Worse than a mound of corpses, worse than forgotten milk, worse than anything else he had ever smelled, he recoiled, trying to keep the contents of his stomach from travelling upward, even if the resulting mess would be an excellent punishment for her tricks.
"Would you not." He growled, irritated that she had decisively won this encounter, his eyes watering from the smell as he took another step away, hopefully out of range of that abominable reek. In response the huge creature started to fold in on itself, blue scales erupting all over its form as its limbs shrank inward, realigning here, melting away there, until his second in command stood before him in all her mutant perfection, eyeing him with that maddeningly hard to read blank look that told him she was likely enjoying this. "As I was saying, I think we might need to up our schedule, I am concerned that the X-Men know too much and for once I would rather be several steps ahead of Charles and prepare accordingly. How soon can the plan be executed without compromising its chance of success?" He had his own estimates, but having Mystique's opinion was always valuable, even if sometimes it was not what he wished to hear.
For a moment she was entirely still as she mulled over the plan, followed by a terse. "Two weeks, no less." Not what he had wanted to hear, but in line with his own estimates, drawing from him a reluctant nod. "Very well, let us proceed on that timeline." He was about to turn away when abruptly she began to move, the contrast to her previous total stillness drawing his gaze as she veritably slinked forward, patches of moonlight catching on bare skin, dappling on svelte curves and highlighting the sway of her breasts. "Is there something else you wanted Erik?" She veritably purred, the languid swing of her hips fixing his gaze even as his heart started to beat faster once more, driven by the enticement of her bare body.
"No that is all." That would be his victory. Turning on his heel he once again heard the familiar crackle and squelch of transforming flesh and bone, his shoulders tensing somewhat as he wondered if it was aimed at him, a shadow growing steadily behind him. Letting out an irritated huff, his pace remained steady and nor did he look back to see what fresh monstrosity had been conjured from her imagination. He had better things to do, or at least so he would tell himself as he tossed and turned for hours afterwards, thinking of bare blue skin.
Behind him Mystique watched him go. In her new form she did not currently have lips to smirk, otherwise the Cheshire cat would have a run for its money. It was his loss, but then Erik had always let pride get in the way of truly winning. Perhaps she would go to him later, but for now her time was hers.
Having spent so much time lately as an aging male, it felt good to push her body beyond the humanoid norm, forcing it into the most grotesque contortions and revelling in what she truly was; a being of change, fluid, quicksilver, unlimited by the anatomical rules of muscle and bone. Such shapes were difficult, painful even, but at night in the privacy of her quarters she was free to explore her abilities in whatever way she saw fit, testing, honing and refining her changes and pushing what was possible a little more with every shift.
After all, practice makes perfect.