2013.09.16 - Bastion Genetics

Magneto is enjoying a crisp autumn day outside on the verandah of one of the newer complexes- the Science Center, a glistening structure of seamless white concrete and glass. The patio sits about ten stories above the hab complexes below, and the beginnings of an overhead tram system promise to connect the platform to the other skyscrapers climbing towards the clouds. "I think forty generation projections are not unreasonable, Nathan," Magneto remarks. He takes a sip of his iced coffee, lounging almost indolently in the warm fall sunlight. They sit on a pair of long benches, at the corner so they can face each other at an oblique angle. "Forty-gen gives us a good idea of derivations in the genetic pattern. That's seven distinct genetic lines to extrapolate to. With Destiny's help, I think we can make a reasonable inference as to where a particular genetic coupling will take us." Magneto and Sinister seem to be discussing one of their new pet projects- the 'breeding program' Magneto is establishing in Bastion.
"Fourty is far too few, Eric," comes Nathan's polite reply. Today he's wrapped up in his favorite 'civilian' form, one incredibly similar to his true look, though the skin coloration is far closer to normal. As he sits across from Magneto, his gaze never steers away from the man, far too focused on their current conversation to idly observe nature. "With those numbers, I'd have a better chance at finding the perfect mutant by pulling their name from a lottery," he continues, gesturing vaguely with his own drink, "It's absurd. I need at least eighty, and even then I'm hobbling myself, which I'm already doing by submitting to this 'free choice' notion of yours. The best subjects never volunteer, they are chosen."
Ursa has been surveying quite a bit of the planet Earth during her visit, but Bastion has been one place she's yet to visit. Today she flies there, meaning to witness what it has to offer, having heard of Genosha. The landscape does not disappoint, it is indeed a remarkable skyline. It looks like a seat of power, as the Spire suggests. Whoever rules this place, has a much better understanding of leadership than some of the leaders in other places she's been to thus far.
It hasn't been long since Mystique hit an unexpected bump when dealing with the Argus. No doubt she'll be branded as one of the most wanted terrorists of the United States before the week is through. (She'll just add it to the list.) Though, time in general has a way of losing much of its meaning when one can potentially live forever.
Overconfidence can be another side-effect. Fortunately, she happens to be very good friends with this omega level mutant called Magneto.
Hours later after his timely assist in freeing her from SHIELD custody she's back in Genosha, under the completely random guise of an Asian woman that happens to have vertical-slit pupils to compliment long, straight black hair. Glossy synthetic attire leaves patches of emerald green skin visible, including the more pronounced scaled ridges that cascade from the back of her neck clear to the tip of a reptilian tail.
Just another mutant lizard looking to do a spot of afternoon sunbathing before a night of clubbing, apparently. Except that this lizard is making her way toward where Magneto lounges.
"We can't even accurately predict genetic shift in /twenty/ generations, Nathan," Magneto says with the bored air of a scientist completely unable to hide his satisfaction at a rousing intellectual debate. "At eighty generations, your models won't be any better than just guesswork. Twenty gen is too short to plan much with, but with eighty...." he shakes his head and grins at Nathan anyway. "Make do with forty for a while. I'll put a bottle of Maker's away and in ten generations, if you're right, we'll switch to the eighty gen projections and I will defer to your expertise on the next round of experiments."
Magneto looks at the lizard, then smiles brilliantly at her. "And the lady of the hour approaches," he says. He invites the lizard-woman to sit next to him. "Did you know that there's a bounty of fifty million dollars on your head, my dear?" Magneto informs the shapeshifter, clearly seeing through her disguise. "I should take some measure of pride in that." He squints minutely at the sight of Ursa soaring across the cityscape, and mutters something under his breath about 'flight lanes' and 'freewheelers'.
With her vision and hearing, Ursa easily picks on the gathering of Magneto and Sinister with the newly arrived Mystique. Unlike most, she really isn't aware of who any of those individuals are, whether disguised or not, but she is quite interested in the bits of the conversation she manages to pick with her super hearing, and she flies directly towards them. A woman in black, approaching them in flight, unarmed, but then visible weapons mean little when the woman clearly has some powers.
"You were unable to accurately predict whether or not each generation would have brown or black /hair/, Eric, but now you have /me/. I can tell you the mutation produced by a particular coupling within an acceptable error margin by simply reading their DNA profiles." Sinister offers a slight smirk, lifting his drink to his lips, before finishing with a reluctant gesture, "However... Since you don't seem to mind waiting, I will work with fourty. For now. Besides, after ten generations of working on an apology, it should be quite entertaining when you admit I was right the entire time." He chuckles a bit, quite sure he's one of the few who could get away with saying something like that to the Imperator.
When Mystique approaches, he observers her for half a second before the corner of his lips turn up into a knowing grin. However, he asks; "And who is this? Fifty million? That's quite a number... You'd think I'd recognize the very distinct mutation of someone so... popular."
When the reptilian-inspired woman grins back at Erik she does so with rows of needle-point teeth. He always was good at picking her out in a crowd, no matter how subtle or outlandish she chooses to be. Crouching now beside him with an arm draped across the back of his seat her attention drifts toward his guest of the hour, Nathaniel, with grin yet in place.
Two seconds later all of the green scales are replaced with perfectly smooth blue flesh. Vertical pupils vanish in a sea of solid, illuminated yellow and black hair shortens to a flow of crimson, both colors selected from the palette of a new dawn. Her choice of glossy burgundy attire remains the same.
"Only fifty?" Mystique inquires in a voice which blends a higher tone with a lower tone into something ethereal. "I see the repression is affecting everyone."
She's so modest.
"And here just in time for biology class," she adds with one scarlet eyebrow curving upward. "Mystique. You'll hear more about me on the evening news, no doubt."
There's also a flier amongst them. One showing peculiar signs of confidence. She's been out of the loop for a solid month, perhaps Erik has expanded his inner circle of the Brotherhood. Angling her head towards his ear slightly, she pitches her voice lower and inquires "Friendly skies this afternoon?"
Magneto shrugs at Mystique, looking utterly unconcerned. For a man who yesterday flipped the ARGUS like it was a children's toy, even someone like Ursa, of Kryptonian descent, poses little personal threat. Still, there's Mystique to consider. Magneto does look after his lieutenants. "I don't recognize her," he says. "Phenomenal amount of solar energy being stored, however. You could hook her up to the city's power grid and run our entire manufacturing process for a month." He inclines his head to her in greeting and gestures for the woman to join them. Clearly, she's possessed of superhuman senses. "I suppose she'll join us, then."
Ursa does indeed descends towards the gathered, looking directly at Magneto as he seems by way of body language to be the one in charge. "You are different." Ursa says to Magneto, before turning to look at Mister Sinister and then Mystique, "what is this place called? It is unlike...Metropolis, and you sound nothing like its Mayor."
Sinister watches, completely unphased as Mystique shifts back into her regular guise, he even sips his drink all nonchalant. "Ah yes, Mystique, I think I may have heard of you... In passing perhaps," Sinister replies with a slight dip of his head, appearing all too familiar with the shapeshifter, despite what he says. He glances briefly to Magneto, before looking back to her, "I have a few names, but you may call me Dr. Milton. I do some genetic work for the Imperator. Truly honored to meet you."
As Ursa floats in, he takes a moment to observe her, before he looks away. Whatever it is that normally holds his interest, it seems to not be present in her. "So what exactly did you /do/ to cause fifty million dollars of infamy?"
Arrogant or not, there comes a point when any proper spy would choose not to divulge too much information. What intel she has is for Magneto's ears only. Here they have a Doctor Milton and a completely unknown flying woman. As much as she'd like to say that she got caught reading Fury's private journal she chooses to gloss over the details in an even more significant matter.
"Someone happened to be most protective of their cookie jar," she replies with her usual sly grin in place. "A pleasure indeed, welcome to Genosha."
Of course, the 'you are different' remark can't go unnoticed. That blank golden stare drifts now to Ursa, the metamorph simply replying "And so are you." She'd add that everyone here is different and yet the same though she's getting the peculiar feeling that perhaps this other woman isn't quite the same, at all. There are more ways to find powers than through mutation, after all.
Magneto doesn't get up. He's the Imperator, after all. "Greetings," he says, inclining his head. "I am surprised to find someone so far away from America who doesn't recognize the island of Genosha. I am Magneto, Imperator of the Twin Cities. This is Bastion, home of the Free Mutants," he informs her. "I am the ruler of the people here. I do not sound like the mayor because the day-to-day running of the city is not my concern." He smiles at her in a friendly fashion, folding his hands on his lap. "Does that address your questions? I am always happy to speak to visitors to our home. This is my chief geneticist, Dr. Nathaniel Milton- and the Lady of Genosha, Mystique." He grins at the woman as she banters with 'Milton'. "And your name, my dear?" he inquires of Ursa.
When he's introduced to Ursa, Nathaniel briefly lifts his glass to her, before taking a drink of it and looking back to Mystique. "Ah yes, well... People tend to be overly protective of those sorts of things. Hopefully it was worth the trouble." He observes her for just few moments more, before he turns to listen to the conversation between Ursa and Magneto. There's a clear look of boredom on his face, an arrogance rarely matched and usually born of knowing far more than you let on. "Perhaps she'd like a tour of the city, Imperator. I'd be more than happy to have one of my staff show her around."
"I am positively different, different than a stark number of the population that inhabits this planet," Ursa nods at Mystique's retort. "I am relatively new to the planet, I pick up on local information as I go," she explains her lack of knowledge about all things Genosha. "Imperator, that title alone makes you distinct from leaders I've heard of thus." Turning her head to acknowledge Mister Sinister, Ursa smiles, and it seems a pleasant smile of someone who has just happened by a treasure. "A chief geneticist, you are very much different indeed, a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Milton." Finally she turns to peer at Mystique, "is Lady of Genosha a title? A ruler's consort, perhaps?" Returning her gaze to Magneto, she stands with her arms akimbo, looking straight at him with a firm posture, "I am Ursa."
"It was no trouble at all," Mystique easily replies to Nathaniel with a slightly larger grin. In fact, it had been downright fun. Enlightening, as well. If she's reading this Doctor correctly, he would understand the pursuit of knowledge at any cost better than most. "There really is nothing like the thrill of discovery," she continues with a content sounding sigh. "Of discovering things the rest of the world would wish to keep hidden."
Those must have been some truly amazing cookies.
As Ursa continues Mystique looks her way once more. Why is it that so many aliens end up looking so much like the rest of humanity..? At least she isn't human, that does put her in somewhat better standing where the morphic woman's own judgement is concerned.
"A title of honor. Recognition." How to explain she's more like a mother to mutantkind than anything? It's probably best not to get into the subject too heavily.
"If you have someone available and she is so inclined, that's a fine idea, Nathaniel," Magneto nods at Milton. He turns back to Ursa. "Imperator is a title plucked from human history," he explains. "It means 'he who rules alone'. This is an autocratic nation, meaning that I alone am the supreme ruling authority. I answer to no other person or assembly." He glances at Mystique. "But, there are some good friends who keep my feet firmly rooted in reality," he says with an affectionate gesture towards Mystique.
He sips his coffee and smiles politely. "You're a Kryptonian, aren't you?" he says, taking a shot in the dark. "I believe I've met one or two of your kindred before. You have a unique energy matrix," he informs her. A sudden insight crosses his face, followed by a /very/ unsettling smile that promises something unpleasant for someone not present at this moment. "How interesting," he murmurs to himself. He shakes off the expression and looks back the girl. "I'm sorry, my thoughts wandered for a moment. Well, welcome to Genosha, then," he says, gesturing at her. "Would you care to join us for some tea? Coffee, perhaps?"
"Then you have done an honorable deed," Ursa remarks when Mystique explains her title, "I am glad to hear of a strong woman worthy of honor. There should be more like you, Mystique." She nods at Magneto's explanation of his title, "that is a strong way to lead, and as I know from experience, a far wiser way to lead. So long as you adhere to reason."
"I am indeed a Kryptonian," Ursa answers with a gleam of pride in her eyes, "we are a much evolved society compared to the humans of this planet." She then looks towards Mister Sinister, "if a member of your staff can show me the city, I should like to see it," she looks back at Magneto, "I would join otherwise."
"I always have someone available, Imperator," Sinister replies with ease. He glances just off to his left, and sends out a telepathic command -- two hundred miles away. There's a few second pause, a slight crack of energy is heard and in a puff of black smoke, a large man, completely bedecked in some sort of strange, modulated metallic suit, appears. His dark hair falls to his shoulders and he wears a seemingly constant annoyed frown beneath his distinct facial hair. He looks around the group before his eyes settle on 'Dr. Milton' and he nods to the man, arms crossed over his chest. "Sir?"
Sinister gestures vaguely towards Ursa, saying, "I'd appreciate it if you gave the kryptonian a tour, Scalphunter... Perhaps after the Imperator is done speaking with her. See if you can make her right at home, would you?" The last portion of his statement earns Ursa a brief glance over from Scalphunter, before he nods an affirmative back to Milton and wanders over to Ursa, waiting for her to fall in line with him. Not the talkative or friendly type, clearly.
"You two have fun," Magneto calls to the two. "Do try to leave a good impression," he cautions Scalphunter. Magneto gets to his feet smoothly. "I'm afraid our erstwhile administrative staff is paging me. I must depart for a short time." He strokes Mystiques cheek once with a fond gesture, as a man finding a thing he's missed dearly returned, then with a regal nod to Sinister simply steps off the side of the roof and soars towards Spire.
Category:Log