2014.03.03 - Ancients and Imperators

The isle of Genosha loomed ahead, for the relaxed mutant. A long flight, no need to rush, the deep waves moving far underneath a hypnotic churn that mimics the thoughts of the flier. The time to think is always useful, and within his patience, never wasted. No fanfare, no giant groups follow the bulky titan. Not today, not in this place. This world feels so different, all of it, yet the waves are the same from so many long flights of this nature, that it's a steadying familiarity. 
And so it is when he encounters the barriers of fields as he closes on Genosha, he responds with quiet, relaxed acceptance, interested in the various bots that move to intercept and inspect his arrival. They will, though, encounter his heavy forcefields, that block much of their sensors, but not rudely. As the requirement comes to slow, he adapts effortlessly, the energy cannons erupting from his back which are propelling him adjusting smoothly to be far more efficient with the new speed. And it is that Apocalypse allows himself, with no resistance at all, to be escorted calmly and coolly towards a landing area, his gaze raking the landscape without any particular expression.
Magneto himself is waiting to greet Apocalypse. And an 'honor guard' that consists of fifty some mutants, each dangerous and heavily armed- and dozens, maybe hundreds, of the hooded angels, standing stock still and humming a low, pervasive psychic chant. It is not an intrusion, but a wet blanket, thrown over the mind. 
"'For I have become Death, destroyer of worlds'," Magneto says, as Apocalypse strides up the landing pad towards him. Magneto- who looks a man barely out of his twenties- strides energetically towards Apocalypse, his face set and even, as if prepared for negotiations or battle. 
"You'll forgive my impertinence, but I must ask your intentions here," the Imperator says, rather flatly. "The name Apocalypse has been whispered for a thousand years as a destroyer and conqueror. This land is the salvation of mutants, and I shall not see it rendered asunder. Are you here for peace or war?" he says, his bold, assertive presence making the question a commanding one.
For someone spoken of for thousands of years, Apocalypse does not put on a great show or cause blood and hell to rain from the sky or any number of things, he simply walks, with the slow, methodical stride one would expect from a giant made of stone. He does, naturally, tower, but not anywhere near what his potential suggests may be possible. He is, however, similar to the senses of those that are onlooking: his own presence is similar to the aura the Imperator owns so strongly: both men are hosts of massive power.
"Naturally, I would expect nothing less," Apocalypse answers, his own smooth answer not a challenge, nor does it mock or provoke. It's calm, direct, clearly accepting another leader in Magneto without any posturing. "I have often been a warbringer," Apocalypse grants, "But of all the places to see it occur, a land of mutants is hardly the place I would select to start." The flight cannons melt away within the same motion that he gestures with a broad palm towards the land in general, heavy fingers uncurling slowly, deliberate.
"No, I am here because this place is... unusual. I am very interested in what you have made. .../Should/ it come under attack, you would not find me on the side /opposite/ of mutants," Apocalypse adds smoothly, directing his eyes around the circle of various guards once in a sweep, before returning to meet Magneto's gaze directly with his dark red one.
There is a long moment of weighing, eyes to eyes, despite the height difference, and Magneto turns and speaks over his shoulder in a language even Apocalypse would not know. The honor guard leaves, the hooded robots return to their rounds, and the crowd in general disperses. 
"I can respect that, Apocalypse," Magneto says. "In that case, allow me as the Imperator of Genosha to welcome the First of Mutants to the new home of our people. We are honored to receive you," he says, offering a salutatory bow to Apocalypse- an equal addressing an equal.
There's no deliberate intention to lord his height; Apocalypse physically does not look down his nose or even, perhaps, seem aware of that. His posture is the same as his visit to any culture, although often prior it involves worship. So, he does indeed have a sort of starkly expectant posture, but to him, he simply exists, and things are as they should be. He doesn't react or seem to mind the language use, or even care much of the crowd movement. His answer of physical 'bow' isn't quite one: it's a cross of one arm and wrist turned in near the neck, and then brought down, but it may be evident that it has some cultural meaning to Apocalypse, to answer with the gesture. A culture long since dead, leaving the Ancient mutant alone to recognize meaning.
"Excellent. I am pleased we can meet on ...amicable terms," Apocalypse answers. He does, indeed, seem pleased; there is no effort to cloak emotion out of his words, no indications of anything other than what he's said directly. "Even from here, I can sense you have much to be proud of and defend." Apocalypse does move, several steps forwards, but it carries nothing aggressive in type. Simply bridging the physical gap where a potential fight could have brewed.
Magneto gracefully and smoothly returns the bow, matching Apocalypse precisely, and then rises in time. He half turns, gesturing. "If you would grant me an extension of your faith and courtesy, I can offer you a short tour of our city," he says. A little flickering drone comes up and starts beeping and buzzing fitfully, trying to scan Apocalypse. "And it is customary for visitors to be logged into our system," Magneto adds, gesturing at the little robot. "A cursory genetic and image scan. We maintain a high level of security here, given the metahumans who think we are an oasis of terrorists, and the human nations who would happily destroy us if given the chance. We received a few missiles in our early weeks of establishment, courtesy of Jabbwari," he says, referring to a nation some hundred miles to the north, near Egypt. 
"We returned them."
The little beeping and buzzing drone is ignored at first, until Magneto brings it up. "I believe we can have an exchange of faith, should you allow me to examine it briefly," Apocalypse says, relaxed about it, extending a palm almost lazily towards the drone as if to allow a butterfly to land on his giant palm. By his movement, it suggests he believes he could force the issue of grabbing the drone and doing whatever he intends to do to it, but does not, and this may be his style of politeness. "I am willing to log in, and allow a minor scan," he continues, but evidently is not the most extremely trusting visitor... or simply has something else in mind with the drone.
"Hmmmmmmmmm, how foolish of them," Apocalypse chuckles about the missiles, as if they were taking about new neighbors offering amusing cakes to each other. "They can't have been the only ones to try it, or was your return show sufficient to intimidate others?"
"It was more than sufficient," Magneto says with a prim smile. "And of course, with my defenses in place, it was more the ... gesture they made than the actual efficacy." 
The drone doesn't get much- Apocalypse is too complex for a swift scan, and the techno-virus is so dynamic the drone can't make heads or tails of it. 
Magneto ignores the scanner, walking along with the massive mutant. 
"My thanks for allowing the scan. It does help us maintain quality of life and ensure no diseases or humans slip by. We had an outbreak of cholera a few weeks ago and had to enact quarantine for the residents for a time. Difficult days, but we had a survival rate into the ninety-ninth percentile. A few perished, but such is life. Fleeting and capricious, for most of us." He lifts a caped shoulder in a shrug, walking with a purposeful stride straight down the main city streets. Bastion was obviously formerly a military facility, built on bunkers, and the glimmering towers that rise up seem like shiny lilies emerging from the muck. In the distance, a black obsidian spire on the hillside radiates raw energy that seems particularly in tune with Magneto- something akin to the devices that Apocalypse himself enjoys. 
"You are, of course, welcome here. I must caution you that an individual of your power must have.... restraint," Magneto says, delicately. "We had a regrettable incident with a deranged lunatic murdering our own mutants to accelerate his genetic experimentation. We simply cannot have that happen again."
The butterfly -- err, scanner-- is brought out of the air as it scans Apocalypse, and gets... it's meager, confused little scan out of it. His energy signatures are inconsistent and bizarre, the techno-virus in every cell a labyrinth for the drone, though it can no doubt recognize it again if it sees Apocalypse another time. What is perhaps interesting is that after touching it, his hand and fingers morph and fuse directly into the device. He's checking it, via technopathy. Perhaps interested in what it's capable of, and what 'cursory' means to Magneto. In any event, he retracts from it and lets it go off on it's merry scanner way, and seems to have his attention on the tour.
"I am not interested in murdering your mutant population," Apocalypse says dryly. "I am ...very familiar with genetic manipulation, but boast an exceptional survival rate," he says, in a way that suggests he's made a joke in some way. He does clarify: "In that I prefer success, not the demise, of participants. And I am stingy about who I would consider worthy of such a thing." He's otherwise looking at the buildings, the layout, the devices, but seems physically relaxed.
Magneto watches with interest as Apocalypse appropriates his technology. "How fascinating," he murmurs. "Technopathy. What an unusual deviation." Magneto smiles as if nothing had passed and continues on with the tour, following with easy, brisk steps. "Pardon me, then, if any offense was incurred. As I said, we had... an incident. I would fain not repeat it," he points out in a dry tone. 
"But if you are interested, I am constantly pursuing research into the X-gene. Your contributions could be quite significant. Again, if you are interested," he offers diffidently.
The glance at the technopathy gets a brief, calm half-smile from Apocalypse. He is not doing it to show off, but neither is he cloaking the ability or masking it in any form. None of what Apocalypse has done has been secretive, but neither is it demonstrative. A full understanding of what he can do would probably require some probing questions. 
"No offense taken. I can understand the concerns with my reputation alone... in fact, I had expected a far more severe version, and I have met my share of 'unpredictable mad scientists', but I digress. I /am/ interested in the current exponential explosion of the gene within the past handful of years, so it is possible we could mutually benefit with investigation there, yes. But we could explore such an alliance at a later time," Apocalypse says, with clear patience. He isn't in a hurry to rush anywhere, or to get anything out of Genosha directly: there's no greedy eye being cast on it, it may seem more like he's on a simple overview tour, at the time being.
"Wonderful. I think we will have a rather practical and comfortable accord, then. Might I invite you to my Spire for drinks?" Magneto asks, gesturing at the obsidian spike rising skywards. "Or refreshment of your choice, if you take any. We can discuss your stay here and any position you might find to your liking. A scientist like yourself would certainly enjoy the benefits of the laboratory I have assembled, and the relative peace and quietude to practice in."
"I am always interested in practical arrangements .... and drinks as well," Apocalypse says, seeming to be pleased by the offers, as if he found the situation quite suitable, and the hospitality appealing. "I do possess my own private research locations, but there is always something new to learn, and I would hardly reject another place of study." He did, indeed, seem to grow interested in the mention of laboratories, more than some of the other items that are gestured to on the tour as they continue to the Spire, but it's a mild show. It seems that the Spire discussion will certainly grant mutual benefits to both sides, while the mutual respect continues to hold.
Category:Log