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Post by Erik Lensherr on Jan 10, 2009 19:46:26 GMT -5
Erik Lensherr had spent the past few months at the Institute, under the pretense that he was tired of fighting, and of the Brotherhood. But he was anything but.
He kept his eyes and ears open, during the election, listening to both parties and looking at the news every day. But there was something more going on under the surface, he knew. He had that ominous feeling that the humans were up to no good. And when the Republican nominee won by a considerable amount, Erik was not surprised in the least. Soon there would be another proposal for the Registration Act; he was sure of it. And something had to be done about that.
He did not wish to lose his position at the Institute, which was a valuable recruiting center, and kept him aware of the goings on of the X-Men. So he would sit back and pull the strings from behind the curtain. A noble puppeteer, or chess master, as he preferred to think. And to all appearances, he was simply a mutant having a drink in a mutant bar. Even if the whole bar knew who he was, and most stayed out of his way. He appeared to be out for a harmless drink. And so he preferred it to be seen that way.
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Post by monet on Feb 10, 2009 23:45:58 GMT -5
Monet had been humiliated by the coverage of her involvement in the riot. She had spent the couple of weeks after it in her apartment, not even leaving for class. All she would have to do was call her dad, explain what had happened, and he would make sure her standing at school wasn't compromised. She had TiVoed the entertainment news programs that showed grainy cell phone camera footage of her flying and had watched it over and over again, cursing herself for stepping in.
Finally feeling a bit stir crazy, she donned a pair of jeans, a black sweater, and a pair of over sized sunglasses, her own version of a mask, regardless of it being night time. In her flustered state, she definitely didn't feel like getting dolled up, but she still put on enough make up to be presentable, as was her policy when leaving the apartment.
With minimal conversation, she instructed her driver, Jake, to take her to Hellfire. It was the only place she felt safe from her former peers and the paparazzi. She slipped in and, without removing her sunglasses, made her way directly to the bar. On a normal day, she showed little interest in those around her, but in the mood she was in, they may as well not even have existed. She ordered her regular rum and coke and perched on a bar stool, leaning on the bar in such a way as to make her displeasure with the world apparent.
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Post by Erik Lensherr on Feb 11, 2009 13:14:05 GMT -5
Erik turned, seeing the door open from the corner of his eye, and a young woman wearing large sunglasses walk in. Sunglasses in the evening hours only meant one thing: this young woman didn't want to be seen or recognized. After a moment, he placed her. She had been at that riot, had been seen flying off. Intrigued, Erik picked up his drink and walked over to her.
"May I join you?" He inquired politely.
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Post by monet on Feb 11, 2009 16:18:14 GMT -5
Monet looked up as she was addressed. "It's a free country." She mumbled rudely, then added, "For now, anyway." The bartender brought her drink and she studied it absentmindedly for a moment before taking a sip.
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Post by Erik Lensherr on Mar 20, 2009 18:24:44 GMT -5
Erik raised an eyebrow, but joined her. "Do I sense worries concerning our new administration?" Erik asked politely.
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Post by monet on Mar 20, 2009 20:44:54 GMT -5
Monet took a second sip before answering. Without looking up from the bar, she sighed. "You could say that."
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Post by Erik Lensherr on Mar 20, 2009 20:58:50 GMT -5
"It is all right," He assured her. "Many mutants feel the same way, you know." And that was true, though it depended on how they responded to that fear. Charles would continue to watch and wait, like always. And then this government would continue to pass laws that would strip them of their rights, and they would have nowhere to run.
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Post by monet on Mar 22, 2009 20:45:41 GMT -5
Monet finished her drink in one angry chug and turned to the old man. Instead of snapping some rude one-liner, she considered what he had said. Monet's attitude was still in the process of a kind of evolution. The more time she spent alone or among mutants, the less she felt like the typical socialite she had happily been for so long. Even though she was angry and discouraged, she knew that there was a lot she still had to learn about mutant culture, so she bit her tongue and sighed. "I don't know much about being around mutants." She admitted, her mood still visible on her face. Just because she was learning didn't mean she was any less arrogant.
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Post by Erik Lensherr on Mar 28, 2009 13:31:01 GMT -5
"There are many mutants who insist on sitting by idly while the administration strips us of our rights, one by one," Erik said solemnly. "But if that's where you think we all stand, then, my Dear, you are hanging around the wrong mutants."
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Post by monet on Mar 28, 2009 13:39:08 GMT -5
Monet's brow furrowed. "That's the point, I'm not really hanging around any mutants." She gestured around the crowded club, "This," she said, turning back to him, "is all new to me."
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Post by Erik Lensherr on Mar 28, 2009 13:41:20 GMT -5
That made Erik smile. "New to the subculture? How long has it been since you discovered your powers?"
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Post by monet on Mar 28, 2009 13:46:33 GMT -5
Monet ordered another drink. "I can't remember not knowing I was a mutant, I just never had much motivation to surround myself with others." Her drink arrived and she looked at it hard before taking a sip. She turned back to the man with a wry smile, "To be honest, I never really gave mutants in general much thought."
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Post by Erik Lensherr on Mar 28, 2009 13:47:59 GMT -5
"No one gives mutants much thought, unless they are one," Erik said gravely. "Along with mutant rights."
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Post by monet on Mar 28, 2009 13:51:54 GMT -5
"I guess I had no reason to think about other mutants or their rights." Monet felt a twinge of guilt, but no more than a twinge, for her rudeness. With a heavy sigh, she pulled off her sunglasses and offered her hand in greeting. "Monet St. Croix." She stated by way of introduction.
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Post by Erik Lensherr on Mar 28, 2009 13:57:21 GMT -5
Erik's smile widened, as he extended a hand to shake hers firmly. "Erik Lensherr, my Dear," He said. "More people know me by my chosen name, however, which is Magneto." He felt that if she had not recognized him immediately and gone away, then she either didn't know who he was, or recognize him and not care.
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