2014.02.23 - Bread, Meet Toothpick

The Mutant Action Center on Staten Island is still undergoing renovations. Mobile trailers and conex boxes have been joined together as a rude series of hutments, occupying haphazard positions around the ongoing construction. There's precious little in the way of free space, but some of the children have converted an empty field into a soccer pitch and there are various activities going on all around the multi-acre property. 
They're even holding a bake sale, trying to help raise money for the rebuilding of the Center. It's more the principle of the thing, of course- the scope of the buildings must cost in the millions once completed. But it keeps parents involved and helps some of the more aimless youths curb their juvenile delinquency. 
Magneto is right at the center of it all, meeting, greeting, walking and talking with folks. Dressed in a lavish Saville Row double-breasted suit and fedora, he looks like a man straight off the cover of GQ- from 1955. It's a good look on him, with just a touch of modern flaire, and he's even smiling and mugging for the camera with some of the youths and parents who still know him as Erik Lehnsherr, former director of the Mutant Action Center.
Victor Creed isn't one of Magneto's formal acolytes anymore, but remains on good terms with the Imperator. He's broughty Typhoid Mary along with him to meet the man, trying to help Mary get more in touch with her mutant roots. He stays on the periphery, though, for the moment, knowing that Victor Creed isn't exactly a re-assuring figure for children and not particularly helpful for good publicity, "There he is, doll," he mutters to Mary, "Don't let the fancy duds fool ya. Man's tough as nails and just as sharp. Not to mention could kill everyone here in about ten seconds...maybe even me," he says.
This is the very place where Kwabena Odame met Erik Lehnsherr. What was it, two years ago? His memory of that time is admittedly a bit hazy, given it was during his last relapse. It's funny though how one can change so much, and still find a dark reminder of a troublesome time, even when there are far greater dangers (at least by perception) than that of a needle.
Regardless, Kwabena had business here, and Lorna had even agreed to come with him. When he pulls up on his motorcycle with Lorna seated behind him, there is a moment when he considers turning right around and heading somewhere else. Beneath the German-style beetle helmet and goggles, his mismatched eyes can't be seen leering at Magneto, but the twisted scowl on his face says enough.
After a long silence, peppered by e puttering and powerful idling of his Harley Sportster, he kicks the stand and releases the engine. "Well, isn't dis place a sight for sore eyes. I'd be lying if I didn't admit I crashed here some few times." He begins unfastening the helmet and goggles, giving Lorna time to dismount. With a quiet voice he murmurs, "Let's hope, if your fathah notices me, it isn't like last time I ran into him."
Because that was decidedly unpleasant for the Ghanaian mutant.
"Relax, I'm here too remember?" The green haired mutant asks sliding off the bike. Lorna puts a reassuring hand on Kwa's shoulder and smiles. "It was a fun ride at any rate, never been on a bike before." She says before following the direction of his scowl with her eyes.
Recently healing from her ill-fortuned romp into drug use, Phantasma's bruises are none-the-less healing, and honestly.. she feels better than ever! Outside of the sores anyway. So she is, trying new things. What is she trying today you might ask? She tried making a bicycle weightless! It worked, much to her shock. She'd never ridden a bike before...
So it was the Ghost Girl of Gotham was cycling down the street, invisible, intangible, and having a good bit off un. Cold chills run through pedestrians as she cycles through them rather carelessly, occasional driftings of giggles waft past people, never with any body to put to it!
She'd never been over in this part of town before, and coming to a shockingly quiet and sudden stop, she spots someone she knows! The bike itself she kickstands and gets off, walking away from without care. It suddenly fades back into sight, feeling rather cool to the touch and startling a rather fortunate scamp. Not bothering to weave past people, several suddenly shudder or gasp at the odd cold that pierces to the bone, coming and going suddenly.
He was with someone new though. A girl. That impish little brat smile crossed her invisible lips. With a little shrug, she tags along behind the pair, staying out of sight for now, though Kwabena may notice a somewhat familiar... tingle on the back of his neck from one fated evening in an electronics store. In fact, most people she is around tend to have an odd sort of... nervous tingle. That feeling of being watched but nobody to place it to.
Walking alongside Creed, Typhoid Mary's keen and watchful eyes drift over her surroundings, taking in possible exits (if needed in a hurry) and threats (in case they start moving menacingly in her direction). She's not all that sure about meeting up with more mutants, but Creed convinced her it would be a good idea---more connections, which she couldn't disagree with; more connections is very rarely a bad thing.
When Victor pauses and points a finger at Magneto and warns her about him. "Don't worry, I'm not lookin' to pick any fights. I'm here to make contacts, ideally, and meet others kinda like me. So, yeah, I'll be on my best behavior," she digs her elbow into his side. "Jeez, I know I'm crazy, but I'm not Deadpool-level nuts.
Some cheers go up from the center of the quad as one of the giant steel beams starts to shift. Easily fifty feet long, a combination of inspired pulleys and the main strength of superhumanly powerful mutants, working in a barn-raising style effort. The tremendous I-beam goes up and up, and Magneto levitates skywards, grabbing the edge of it with his bare hands and with a visible effort, pulling it to the vertical. He gestures sharply down with both palms and drives the I-beam at least fifteen feet into the hard-packed dirt. More cheers go up, along with scattered applause, as the Imperator of Genosha- and one time director of the Action Center- lays the 'corner stone' for what is destined to become the new Center. He descends back into the crowd, shaking hands and smiling affably at folk as they approach him.
After hopping off his bike, Kwabena casts Lorna a grin. "Careful. It's addicting." He doesn't verbally say anything about her first remark, but there is a glimpse of gratitude in his expression. "So," he continues, "I'm going to give dem a heads up about a potential mutant I've run into. Latchkey kid, kind of on the precipice of doing de right thing and going down a bad road. I don't know if..."
He goes silent for a moment, reaching back to brush gloved hands against his neck. Eyes drift about for a moment, before he casually smirks. "I think we have a visitah." After this, however, he slowly lifts his eyes, watching the spectacle and looking on without blinking as Magneto displays a small shred of his power. "He does good things. In many ways you should be proud."
Victor Creed gives the necessary applause, nudging Mary with his elbow to make sure she does the same, "Ain't nobody as crazy as Wade, girl. Just remember to show respect. Think of him like The Godfather or the Kingpin. He's the big daddy..." he murmurs, nostrils flaring as he catches Lorna's scent in his nostrils, but doesn't comment. He lets the big man have his moment, knowing real business goes on behind the scenes.
"I know. He's a different man." Lorna comments watching as well. "So who is this kid? I haven't heard the gossip at the school. Someone we should reach out to, or do you think he'd balk at the school?" She asks glancing around to try and see this visitor Kwa says they have. She shrugs into her black peacoat for warmth. "Alright, ready when you are."
Typhoid Mary's eyebrows lift skyward as Magneto drives the impossibly heavy I-beam into the ground, even feeling a bit of a vibration ripple through the earth beneath her feet. Yowza. Noted and duly noted. As Creed nudges, Mary belatedly claps, unused to joining in with the sheep during moments like this. But, hey, it deserves applause. It was impressive. "Yeah, yeah. 'Cept Kingpin kinda has a soft spot for me. As long as I don't mess with his food, he tends to let me do me. But, I get what you mean. Keep the wise-ass on the backburner. I'll do my best," she sighs, scanning over the crowd again, watching Magneto make nice with the people in the area.
A little tired from pushing the bike, not to mention her powers, through a bit of a thrill ride, she's content to just hang out intangibly for now. At least until she sees that small display of power. She rather forgets herself, and more than one person in the crowd might notice her standing their, translucent but not invisible, with her jaw slack. It takes a few moments in fact for her to regain her composure, blinking back to reality and looking around self consciously as she fades again from view. Of course, people around here were used to mutants so it shouldn't come across as too odd. N-nobody saw that... right?
"Hey you..." her voice drifts ethereally from in front of both Lorna and Kwabena. It was wispy and quiet, the sort of thing you might wonder if you actually heard. There was a brief pause, and she faded back into sight behind them both, leaning around Kwabena's other side and saying cheerfully "Quite a party round here, huh?"
 
"Well, well, Victor," Magneto says, approaching Victor as he moves through the crowd. He offers Sabretooth a short grin, predatory in a fashion that the Sabretooth would appreciate. There had never been any undercurrents of competition between them, after all, and Magneto had made it clear in the past that he admired Sabretooth's unique set of skills. He extends a handshake to the mutant. "A pleasure to see you again. Are you paying a social call, or are you here for the barn-raising?" He turns and examines Typhoid Mary with a casual glance that is uncomfortably perceptive- his eyes seeming to take her in with a single gestalt glance. It is far out of place on his features. "And might I ask who your companion for today is?" he inquires of Creed, looking back at the large mutant. "I do not believe we've had the pleasure."
With an almost lazy gesture, Kwabena lifts his hands and joins in the applause. "He could rebuild de whole tri-state in a mattah of weeks," he remarks. "It's good he puts oddah's to use."
With the conversation shifting gears, he turns back to face Lorna while stuffing his hands into the pockets of his riding jacket... which is conveniently where he's stowed his keys, smokes, and other items. "Watch your pockets, Dane. If I'm right, dere's an invisible pick pocket hovering somewhere close by. Anyway, kid's name is Jamaal Jennings. Dad was a junkie who got his head blown off. Jamaal saw de whole thing, might be carrying an X-Gene."
There is a prolonged pause before he adds, "I've seen to it his dad's old thug dealers won't be hassling him."
Without missing a beat, Kwabena smirks when Phantasma makes herself visible. "Dere's always a pahty where Magneto is concerned." He glances Lorna's way, gesturing to the leaning Phantasma with his eyes. "Phantasma. Our littah troubahmakah."
Victor Creed takes Magneto's hand, the tall mutant feeling the familiar shock in his adamantium skeleton as he makes contact with the Master of Magnetism. Sabretooth likes being alpha, of course, but he'd long since accepted that trying that kind of crap around Magneta was pointless. "Well, I've been hangin' around the old Apple an' figured I'd stop and pay a visit since I heard ya'd be in town," he grins, his fangs, as always, on full display, "This is Mary, although she goes by Typhoid. One of us, but been somethin' of a lost sheep. She's suffered plenty, so I figured it's high time she met the shepherd," he says, and there's a strange glint in Creed's eyes as he looks at Mary. Good lord, could that psychopath actually be smitten?
Looking up at Kwa, Lorna tuckes her hands in her pockets, not much there besides a wallet. Her eyes take in the ghostly girl with a hint of awe. "Oh man. You'd love to meet Jason. He's one of the students." She tells Phantasma before looking to Kwa. "The professor didn't check on this Jamaal?" She asks still sticking close to him in the crowd.
Oh. Okay. Gonna just...come right on up, then. Typhoid Mary, not usually uncomfortable in any setting, feels her stomach sort of knot with initial nerves. Secretly, she's glad that Creed is accompanying her, because meeting Magneto without a buffer would be even more...intimidating. The dashing man cuts an imposing figure and Mary feels almost small in his presence. That sort of catches her off-guard. Sure, before, when he was shaking hands and smooching babies, he didn't seem that intense. But, now, with that intense look on her, it's enough to make her heart-rate spike a bit--even if she manages to keep a neutral expression on her face.
She has a bit of a buffer as Magneto turns his eyes on Victor and shakes his hand. The two of them talking gives her enough time to get her nerves under control before she's formally introduced. "Nice t' meetcha," she says, offering her hand, expecting a handshake, "I've heard a lot of good things."
Phantasma crossing her arms, never one for applause, she leans more than a person should be able to without falling, especially balanced as she was on the toes of one foot. "Hey... I try to show a little restraint around the less fortunate.", she pouts, before muttering in a much softer voice "...usually...". With a graceful ballet like twirl and dance she comes to a stop standing next to Kwa opposite Lorna. She blinks lightly at the rather positive reception from Lorna, looking offput, perhaps just beint talked to normally. With a little smile and a vague attempt at hiding a blush, she pulls her hood up and just hangs around.
Whether she walks through people or people rush through her, they always seem more perturbed by the experience than she is. A few startled folk give little shrieks and many shiver, but she doesn't seem bothered by it. With a little tug on Kwabena's sleeve, she leans in and whispers "Hey, can I get a smoke off ya?".
 
Magneto's handshake is courtly and precisely grateful, and utterly unexpected for someone who is expecting the Imperator of Genosha and one of the world's most prolific mass-murders to act. He takes Mary's hand in his, finger-light, kisses the back of her knuckles, and then takes a small half-step back. It's an exquisite combination of polite gesture, friendly greeting, acknowledgement that Victor has taken a mate, and Magneto's respect for their relationship. 
Or he's just a player who looks damn good in a suit. "Miss Mary, a pleasure to make your acquaintance," he offers the woman, adding a warm smile that looks grandfatherly despite his relatively youthful features. "Any friend of Victor, I consider a friend of mine." 
At that moment, a young man- barely in his tweens- runs up to Magneto with a cold glass of water. "Here you go, sir!" the boy offers with the bright-eyed enthusiasm of youth. Magneto smiles approvingly at the young mutant and accepts the glass of water. 
"Why, thank you, Jamaal. Would you please bring some water for my friends as well?" he asks, in that same paternal tone. "And then come join us. I have known Victor for quite a long time now- I know he is a bit scary, but he is very good at what he does. I think you might like him." 
Magneto glances over at Kwabena, Lorna, and Phantasma. He smiles and lifts his glass in a mild toast to his daughter and Kwabena, those sky-blue ices icing over momentarily in an expression of pleasure and malice, all in one look.
"I haven't told de Proffessah about him," admits Kwabena. "One of dose dirty situations. I like to handle those myself." What he's not admitting is that he's the one who blew Jamaal's father's head off. Another life, as it were. After all is said and done, Kwa now has a vested interest in keeping Jamaal Jennings safe.
"Usually my ass," he answers Phantasma, before giving her a baleful look when she asks him for a smoke. "What?" He withdraws one of his hands, holding a green pack of menthols. "Found you couldn't swipe dem dis time? It's a bad habit, kid, and I'm not about to be a bad influence in front of propah propah." The cigarettes go casually back into his pocket. "Lorna here is a friend of mine." He glances Lorna's way. "What do you say, should I bum a smoke to someone who doesn't look old enough to vote?"
It is then when he spies a pair of familiar eyes on him. Guessing that the malice is reserved for him, Kwabena merely meets Magneto's icy stare with a blanked out look and a nod of acknowledgement... which soon becomes a look of surprise when, of all people, Jamaal Jennings shows up. "Well... shit."
Out come the smokes. One goes to his teeth, and then the pack is offered to Phantasma.
"Kwa! We live at a school, you can't give smokes to minors!" Lorna says quickly hushing her tone and reaching for the pack. "Shit what?" She asks before turning to look at her father with a pleased smile. "Well let's go say hi at least. I haven't seen him since before the Earth's core thing." She says tugging on Kwa's arm with a pretty smile. "Pretty please?" She asks.
Victor Creed probably wouldn't think of it as quite mating yet, but he actually likes her, which is more than can be said of 99 percent of the people Victor's known. He isn't jealous of Magneto's courtly manners. Old school recognizes old school, and it doesn't get much more OG mutant than Magneto and Sabretooth. Victor cocks his head at the boy that approaches, knowing better than to smile, just giving a nod to the kid.
It's not hard to follow Magneto's gaze to Kwabena, Lorna and Phantasma. He finds himself shifting slightly, his 6'7" frame looming behind Magneto's right shoulder and there's no mixture of feelings in his look. He may not know the entire score, but he knows where his loyalties lie.
Typhoid Mary...was not expecting that. To be treated...like a Lady--not just a lady, but a Lady, with a capital L and medieval overtones. Her mouth opens--her muscles tensing only slightly--when his lips brush her knuckles, and it closes as he does a sort of bowing-thing. She is completely non-plussed, flabberghasted, and other words that mean she's at a loss for words. Her hand is incredibly warm in his, and her cheeks flush a bit--but, maybe it's just a coincidence. She clears her throat and nods, "Yeah, a real pleasure to meet you. I...um...count myself lucky to be on the right side of things." ??? Was that...something good to say? She is NOT used to all this stuff. She looks supremely uncomfortable, unsure about what she said. She...probably made an ass of herself, but, hey. She tried. And, she wasn't a bitch. Success, in that sense.
Kwabena's taunts get the dourest of pouts, and the sort of look that says 'I know or can find where you sleep'. "If you're gonna be that way about it, next time I won't be so nice." Ooooh its tempting. Just slip her arm through his torso, ghost the pack, pull it back... but she was still sort of drained from the bike ride so for now.. she just suffers with a bit of a huff.
Then, apparently something else is more pressing than his moral dilemma with her and she gleefully accepts the pack, and quickly as Lorna makes a grab at them! Lorna would find her fingers touch the pack. Ahah! She could pull them from the child... except her fingers then pass clean through them.
She puts one in her mouth and reaches back through her backpack for a lighter, being nice to slide her almost freezing cold arm through his body and leave the pack in his pocket again. feeling only slightly bad for Lorna though, she hangs back and whispers "If it makes it any better, I might be 18. I honestly don't know."
Usually there was the acrid smell of tobacco, the eye stinging smoke, but as Phantasma leant over shoulders, none of that was an issue. There was no smell of burning tobacco and chemicals, and the smoke seemed to drift... through things. In any case, this is where she leaves the lovebirds it seems to their talk. Though Kwabena might very well hear her humming the tune to 'kissing in a tree' under her breath.
Jamaal returns in short order with the drinks, as Magneto and Kwabena exchange baleful stares, and offers them to Sabretooth and Mary. Magneto very politely fails to notice Mary's flushed reaction, giving her the appropriate amount of space to regain her composure. He is polite that way, apparently. 
When Jamaal returns, he spies Kwabena, and his face pales, then flushes, and he tugs on Magneto's jacket sleeve a bit to get him to bring his ear down. Staring at Kwabena, Magneto listens to the boy, then nods and mutters something reassuring to him, before patting him affectionately on the head and straightening. 
"So Victor, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Magneto asks the giant mutant. "It has been some time ere we spoke last. Have you been well? I see by your company that you must be doing something correctly," he says, gesturing at Mary and winking minutely at her, half complimenting the woman, half gently teasing Sabretooth.
Kwabena can't do much more than watch as Lorna tries to snatch up the cigarettes, with Phantasma the clever victor. He glances Lorna's way with a distracted helpfulness, saying, "We're not at de school right now...?"
And then Lorna is trying to drag him toward her father. Where Jamaal Jennings is in close proximity. "I really don't think dis is a good idea," he answers. Especially when Jamaal and Magneto exchange words. Quiet words. He even goes so far as to tug his arm away from Lorna, perhaps a bit harshly. He turns a look upon her that is quite intense; both an apology and a sort of stalwart warning.
"I can't explain right now," he murmurs to Lorna, before nodding toward Magneto. "Go. I'll make sure Taz doesn't haunt de wrong person."
Passing her fingers through the pack then Kwa's sudden resistance spikes Lorna's temper and she nods to her friend briskly before turning on her heel to march up to Magneto. Once she's closer she shifts her posture, less pouty young adult and more diplomatic teacher face since it's time for the song and dance. "Magneto, very good to see you." She says flicking her eyes over the other's around him. "Very nice work with that corner stone."
Victor Creed assured for the moment there's no threat, Victor smiles genuinely at the interchange between Magneto and Mary. He's almost startled by Mary's girlish reaction, seeing for the first time a hint of that gentle girl who now mostly exists caged in the depths of Typhoid's broken mind.
To Magneto's question, he responds, "Partially just touching base. I don't exactly stay easy to stay in touch with, so I figure a little face time's good now and again. I'm startin' to work on a project of my own here...putting a few ventures in mutant hands, where they belong. Long term, but I got the time," he grins. "That's how I ran across Typhoid here, as I was lookin' for some good help. Or, in Deadpool's case, batshit crazy but useful."
Phantasma is not the helpful sort. Playful, mildly good natured, but rarely helpful. Of course she didn't really know any context to the situation, and is a little too slow to hide that 'bratty little sister smile' with a look of sincere innocence. Honestly, she didn't even catch his murmur to Lorna. 
"I can beha..." she starts, doesn't seem to be in time as Lorna turns and marches off. That impish smile is back again, wider than ever as she drifts up just high enough to set her chin on Kwabena's shoulder, intangible but balanced so as not to phase through him, and says "I don't think your girlfriend liked that.".
Crossing her arms behind her back, she drifts about a foot back with a graceful sweep, coming to a stop once again balancing precariously, but perfectly on the toes of one foot, her innocent smile back again.
	Typhoid Mary accepts the glass of water from Jamaal and smiles, "Thanks, little man. Got 'nything stronger?" She winks, and grins, showing she's only teasing. (Though, for real, she needs a drink.) The glass begins to steam up around her fingers, where she holds it, due to her body temperature being higher than the water inside it, and she takes a long, deep drink--without guzzling, 'cause manners. And, her brows lift, again, as she hears the very formal way Magneto speaks to Creed. 'Ere we spoke last'? Whoa. Like... Whoa. Then, the handsome, imposing man is making teasingly polite complimentary jokes! And, half-winking! Mary blinks and laughs a bit, giving her head a small shake. She nods, "I seem to attract crazy of varying levels and flavors," she offers. "Birds of a feather, as they say," she smiles wryly.
For a long moment, Kwabena looks on as Lorna marches off. He tries very hard to keep his eyes from reaching Jamaal's, and succeeds... though he can't but help letting a touch of anguish deep through. Phantasma, of course, will notice the tension in his shoulders.
"My girlfriend's name is Rachel." He turns to look at Phantasma. "Not Lorna." That said, he finally gets around to lighting his smoke to the familiar clink of an old, beat up zippo.
Magneto starts a bit. "Deadpool? You are working with that delinquent? Victor, if you need /competent/ help, you merely need ask," he reminds the man, with a tone of gentle chastisement. "I would not trust Deadpool to tie his own boots unsupervised. Your current company, however, is both lovely and remarkably competent seeming," he says, inclining his head to Mary with a courtly grace. "Quite a streak of confidence and backbone in her, I should think." 
And then his attention is completely diverted, like a spotlight levelling on Lorna as she approaches, and a broad smile crosses his face. "Polaris," he says, his tone gently teasing. He spreads his hands, offering the green-haired woman a fatherly embrace, though he looks as if he shares an age with her. "How have you been, child? You look skinny, are you not eating enough?" he asks, lapsing almost immediately into a properly Sinte concern about her well being.
Phantasma ashes her own with a little snicker, not really one for social graces. The girl isn't used to reading people beyond 'scared'. "Quite the playboy.". She takes a rather long drag on her own, watching the procession up above. "So he's... like... a big deal huh?" She gestures with the hand holding her cig, as the smoke slowly drifts out of her chest. She wasn't even bothering to exhale it seems. "I mean, beyond driving a bajillion ton hunk of metal into the ground..."
She was impressed, but was clearly not up to date on the whole cultural 'why' of the matter. She pauses for an answer to her first question, before continuing "You peeve him or something?".
"It's called a diet, I'm fine." Lorna reassures him, taking the hug. "I'm impressed with the volunteer effort out here, I heard it was a massive undertaking. I'm happy to help, I'm sure some of the students would enjoy it too, helping out others like them." She fixes the others with a gaze much less intense than her father. "I don't think I've been introduced." She adds with a friendly smile.
Victor Creed runs a hand back through his tousled, dirty blonde hair, only making it more unruly in the process. He watches Lorna's approach warily, knowing full well that Magneto's relationships with his children are often complicated, answering before she arrives, "I'm not using him for anything long term. I want something messy, loud and distracting. Deadpool's good for that, if nothing else," he says. He reaches down and takes Mary's hand in his as he watches Polaris' approach, then flicks eyes to her male companion and *sniff* th young girl, as well. He files their scents away for future reference, wondering just who Kwabena is and what his connection is to young Jamaal.
	"If chaos is what you want, Deadpool's your man. Maybe Loki, too, but Deadpool's cheaper and more easily manipulated," Typhoid Mary offers. "He's competent enough at killing people pretty much everywhere he goes. It's just his brains are scrambled. You kinda have to know how to capture his interest--make it a game and he'll dive right in, guns blazing and flashbanging to the face," Mary adds to what Creed's said. "As for me, I come with my own set of unique problems, but I get my jobs done," she says with a steady voice, no hint of boasting--just truth. "I appreciate that you sense it," she offers Magneto a smile that's professional and polite. She threads her smaller fingers between Creed's larger ones, and holds his hand, her stomach actually fluttering a little at the affectionate gesture--not something she's ever really had. She turns her gaze in the direction of Victor's gazing and snuffling, taking in the approaching individuals with neutrality, for the time being.
"His name is Erik, dough you might know him bettah as Magneto, de Imperator of Genosha." Kwabena ashes his own cigarette -- he's smoking it pretty quickly -- and turns to look back at Phantasma. That little playboy remark goes unattended. "He's among de most powahful mutants to have evah existed."
Phantasma's last question earns a shade of disappointment. "Taz... de only reason I'm not dead where I stand is because we are where we are." He fails to mention the other reason is likely because Lorna is here. Family matters are family matters, and he's not about to reveal their blood relationship. "Now, tell me. Have you taken my advice yet?" He fixes the younger girl with a look of earnest concern. "Remembah?"
"As a head of state, I fortunately need not employ such delinquents," Magneto informs Mary and Sabretooth. "Quiet professionals are still a value at twice the price," he says. The delicate way he phrases it marks it as a subtle offer to Mary, standing as she is in proximity to Sabretooth. 
"Oh, my manners," he says, pardoning himself. Imperators don't offer apologies. "Victor, Mary, this is my daughter, Lorna," he explains, gesturing from the couple to the green-haired girl. "She sometimes goes by the nom de guerre of Polaris, and works tirelessly to create a stable peace between humans and mutants. I think she is somewhat embarrassed of her father from time to time, but she still indulges an old man by visiting periodically to say hello." He smiles warmly at Lorna, eyes crinkling at the corners, and squeezes her tricep affectionately. How a 30-something man could be Lorna's father is anyone's guess, for those who don't know the story of Magneto's resurrection at the hands of the Phoenix.
Phantasma stretches and twists lightly as he explains, looking a respectable blend of attentive but not particularly shaken. Slamming metal around was all well and good, but it still can't hit her. At least thats how it goes in her head.
Talk of the man wanting her friend dead, that gets her to drop the act a second. She raises a brow, even tips back her hood in a 'What did you do?' stare of mixed astonished curiosity and concerned accusation. Luckily, the look is easily subdued by his next question.
Giving up almost as quick as she gave the look, her eyes roll exaggeratedly "I've got friends... Heck I've practically got a sister now..." she says, swaying lightly on her toes with a half attentive daydreamy look on her face. "I mean.. I hit a.. uh.. snag... a few days ago but now I feel better'n ever." Could he be so lucky to have dodged further probing?
"You exaggerate." Lorna says with a smile to her father. "Victor and Mary, nice to meet you." She says offering them each a hand. She glances back at Kwa briefly before turning her attention to Erik and his associates. "So what are the efforts like here? Construction wise, is there clean ground water and all that?" She asks looking around curious about the camp itself.
Victor Creed gives a nod of greeting to Polaris, taking in her scent more richly now that she's drawn closer, able to pick up more subtle undertones of association, "Nice to meet ya. Any kin o' Magneto's is good by me," he says, "I understand not seein' eye to eye with your Daddy. Just make sure you're doin' it for the right reasons," he says, thinking -After all, you can only kill yer father once...unfortunately-. Keeping Mary pulled to his arm, he gives a wide, fanged smile, 'By the way, tell Logan his old pal Creed says hi. I'm sure we'll be gettin' together sometime soon. He and I go way back."
Phantasma's look of curiosity and accusation is met with a dubious expression. Kwabena merely shakes his head to that one. Either don't ask questions you don't want the answers to, or don't ask questions you know I won't answer. Either of those are clearly inferred, if she's one to understand such looks.
Soon enough, the look is broken by a smirk. "Snags happen, kid. Good to hear you got some friends to hang around. Hope dey are good influences, oddahwise I might develop a problem."
Turning away, he grows thoughtful for a few silent moments, chugging away at his cigarette until it's gone. He lowers it to his side, clenches his hand around the burning butt, and flesh and bone are transformed into a suffocating ball of black smoke. After a moment or two, his hand reforms, and the snuffed out cigarette is stowed in a pocket. Seems Kwabena doesn't take kindly to littering.
"So." He looks decidedly back to Phantasma, having given his next a particular bit of thought. "You want to meet him?" His reasons for making that suggestion, as suicidal a it sounds, go unspoken. And it's likely that only Kwabena truly understands the weight of that offer.
	Typhoid Mary has been a professional assassin for long enough to hear an offer when it's made, however veiled. This smile that she offers Magneto is much more that of a predator given the whiff of prey--she is always looking for more people to kill. Always. She gives him a slight nod of acknowledgement and leans a little closer to Victor as Magneto turns to introduce them to his...daughter? Wow. Early start in the whole parenthood game, or something...? Thinking about it is too complex and she gives it up with the ease of one who just doesn't much give a shit. At the introduction to Lorna, Mary gives her an uptilt of the chin by way of greeting--neutral and polite. As Creed pulls her closer and talks to Lorna, Mary can't help but grin a bit--which might be construed as a smile at Lorna...but, has an entirely different reason.
Phantasma gives a little 'awwwww' as she fades from sight and drifts around him invisibly, only to fade back in from behind. Solid for once, she leans back and presses her back to his, "Oh I'll always be your problem.", whispered in a playful sort of taunt. Your next comment however, she admits, gets her to laugh. 
"So you point me at the worlds most powerful freak, accuse me of being a potential problem, then ask if I want you to show me to meet a man who apparently wants you dead, cause you know..", she stops to go intangible, literally leaning THROUGH Kwabena's body to look up at him with her almost trademark impish smirk ".. I make great first impressions."
 
Introductions are made, greetings applied both nuanced and gross, and Magneto smiles approvingly at the small congregation, making sure to keep the young boy Jamaal at his side and engaged in the conversation. Frequently, he speaks directly to the lad, addressing him as an adult instead of an errant child. 
"Yes, yes," he answers Lorna, making a vague gesture with one hand. "That was the first thing we needed to do- rebuild the electrical grid and install water and sewage lines," he explains. "The substructure is all in place. Today we start laying the framework for the main building," he says, gesturing at the tremendous pylon he'd driven into the ground. An industrial piledriver would have needed two hours to do what he did with a single gesture, driving nearly twenty tons of steel into the earth below. 
"Once the frame is up, we shall begin working on the housing- that is the priority- then offices, and so on. I have devoted a great deal of my personal monies to this project, in the hope that we can complete it well ahead of projected schedules. Thus far, it proceeds apace," he smiles at his daughter. "The Staten Island Mutant Action Center will be a refuge once more. Isn't that right, Jamaal?" he asks the young man, who nods vigorously but stays shyly mute in the presence of so many adults (and the downright fearsome looking Creed).
Looking up at Creed, Lorna bristles subtly. "I'll be sure to." She nods before focusing back on Magneto. "Oh, well if there's anything I or the others at the school can do, I'm sure Charles would happy provide. It'll be good for the younger mutants to help out in the community, am I right?" She asks fixing Jamaal with an open smile. She deals with teens on the daily.
Kwabena just can't help it. After suffocating a shiver when she passes through him, he rolls his eyes and looks down at Phantasma with a rueful smirk. "First. He's no more a 'freak' dan you or I. Second, he didn't always want me dead." He looks back to the others, watching how they congregate. He takes a special note of Lorna speaking with Jamaal. "Well, kid, now's your chance. Be careful, I imagine he'll be quite enamored with your talents." That being said, he finally takes up a stride and begins walking toward those who have congregated around Magneto. His mismatched eyes cast brief glances from one to the other, and this time, his glance doesn't stray past Jamaal.
Typhoid Mary shows herself to be even more of a surprise as she spends most of the discussion time interacting with Jamaal, pulling silly faces and doing little TK tricks to entertain him. She tosses some coins in the air and, as they fall to about Jamaal's eye-level, she starts juggling them with TK, letting them spin and dance before the boy--encouraging him to try to grab them. While the adults talk and exchange tense looks, Mary has fun playing with the kid--who seems to be important in this situation, for some reason. She can tell how spooked he is by Creed's intimidating presence, so she tries to keep him pleasantly distracted.
Phantasma drifts the rest of the way through Kwabena until she's standing in front of him, a brow up as if to suggest 'And we aren't freaks?'. She doesn't fight the moniker.... not anymore anyway. In the end, she just shrugs and lets herself sink back to the ground. Well, if he's so important, she may as well try to be 'proper'... as if she even knows what that means. She's... visible! She makes a hell of a show of walking normally, and doesn't even give away that she's completely intangible.
In fact, any attempt at touching her is just likely to plunge ones fingers into something chillingly cold and bone shivering. A sort of chill that penetrates skin, muscle and bone. Of course... there's the issue of the crowd.
Everyone wanted to meet this guy it seemed! Honestly, value made it more desirable. The crowd itself bristles and eeps here and there as she weaves her way THROUGH people, literally, stopping a few feet up from the procession. Arms crossed behind her back still, leaning backwards a little, she pauses with the man himself right in front of her, and.... chokes.
It's as simple as that. With the exception of people being unable to shove her out of the way, it would be quite easy to overlook her in fact. Her eyes were up, she looked like the sort at a loss for words, out of their element, and off to the side as she was...
Victor Creed keeps alert as Kwabena and Phantasma approach, his eyes meeting those of the immaterial girl for a moment before flicking back up to her male companion. He doesn't have much to add conversationally at the moment. Whatever their business is, it's clearly with Magneto and, as long as it stayed respectful, so it would remain. Victor didn't have much tolerance for disrespect, however, and had very unpleasant ways of expressing that intolerance, usually through a thorough examination of their entrails.
"You're more than welcome here, Lorna," Magneto says, gently emphasizing the point without making it a reprimand. "The Action Center is for all mutants and their families in need. If any of the X-men wish to visit or render aid, their courtesy will of course be appreciated." 
And then Kwabena and Phantasma approach, and Magneto suddenly projects... something. It's a shift in his demeanour that goes from 'paternal father figure' to the icy, dangerous presence he projects as Imperator. 
"Kwabena." Magneto smiles again, all teeth, and any measure of friendly courtesy is replaced by friendly enmity. He offers a handshake to the man, grasping Kwabena's hand, /hard/, which from the outside merely looks like a very firm handshake that lasts a little longer than Kwabena would like it to. It's a pointed reminder to Kwabena of the last time they'd met face to face. "How pleasant to see you visiting our former headquarters." Jamaal promptly takes two large steps back and puts Mary between him and Kwabena, with that innate sense children seem to have of sensing a would-be protector. "You of course know young Jamaal, of course? And this is Miss Mary, and my old friend, Victor Creed," he says, gesturing at the couple. 
"Do you care to make introductions, or will you force this polite young lady to introduce herself?" he asks, gesturing with one hand at Phantasma.
Typhoid Mary gives a big thumbs up to Jamaal as he finally catches the last coin, and she enjoys the pleased, proud smile the boy displays, pocketing the coins. She playfully touches her fist to his chin and laughs as he tosses his head as if she'd punched him. He follows up with a 'punch' to her stomach and she makes a comical sort of 'oof' face, bending at the waist a bit. Then, she ruffles his head with a smile. ...Which fades as Kwabena approaches and spooks Jamaal anew, the boy stepping to hide behind her. She straightens and meets Kwabena's mismatched eyes with her own, fierce and hard--but, not aggressive. Not yet. She puts her free hand behind her to rest on Jamaal's shoulder, while Creed holds her other, and she nods at Kwabena when Magneto introduces her to the tall man.
The cold look is something Phantasma was more than accustomed to. That air of being pleasant couldn't hide that... aura. The observant might notice her eyes glance up briefly to her friend, a sort of smirk at the obvious enmity he was provoking, before her eyes go back to Erik. She may not know what to say, but at the same time she didn't project the aire of being afraid.
Quite the contrary, once over the initial bit of speechlessness, as the pleasantries between Erik and Kwabena went on, a scanning glance up and down the proud figure would be easily noticed. Sizing up. Still, it was the final comment from the proud mutant that made her really smile. She couldn't hide a little bit of glee seeing Kwabena put on the spot, and she suddenly becomes perkier, eyeing him with a bratty look and staying 'politely silent'.
"Father." Lorna puts a hand on Magneto's arm. "I'm happy to lend my aid here of course. And the students will be thrilled." She says trying to smooth things over. She has much less patience for the game, maybe something she ought to learn from her parent. She smiles like there isn't a stare down between the two men.
The only thing that prepared Kwabena for this encounter was his familiarity with how it would go. He doesn't seem phased by the manner in which the Imperator's demeanor changes, though it strikes a quiet, smoldering fear somewhere deep within his well-guarded soul. On the outside, of course, he's as professional as he's ever been, leaning forward and meeting Magneto's handshake willingly. In his eyes there is familiarity, the sort of two men who have shared a few things ranging from a game of chess, to betrayal, to witnessing what could have been the end of the universe itself. On his part, however, there is... no hostility.
"And de place where we first met, unless my memory has failed me."
When the handshake his finally released, he slowly lowers it to his side with a practiced ease. He looks from one to the other as the greetings are made, and his eyes stop on Jamaal. A long breath is drawn through his nose and breathed out with just as much forced ease. "No, of course not," he says, looking back to Magneto. "How rude of me. Dis is Phantasma." He takes a step to the side, looking pointedly at the young girl. "I was fortunate to be of some assistance to her in Nevada. Now she is free of her captors and able to live life again. And to be something of a thorn in my side, it seems."
 
"Miss Phantasma," Magneto greets, ever the soul of courtesy. The moment of tension comes and goes after Kwabena introduces the girl- a small hint of the force of personality the Imperator can project when irritated. There's something that goes deep between him and Kwabena. It's more than just posturing. Anyone with a lick of sense can tell that Magneto is holding down a terrifyingly deep reservoir of rage at Kwabena's presence, and doing so with masterful aplomb, which translates into that icy demeanor. 
"Indeed, I believe it was right over there," Magneto says, nodding at one of the temporary trailers that is serving as a replacement for the blasted heath the Sentinels had left behind some two years hence. "It is... good to see you about the area again. Are you returning out of nostalgia, or is there a particular reason for the timing of your visit?" He glances at Phantasma. "Perhaps something the young lady wishes to know?" he says, a cool note of unspoken chastisement in his voice for her petulant expression. It is an expression that would be better placed on someone's grandfather than Magneto, but it projects firmly despite his smooth-skinned features.
Victor Creed keeps his muscles relaxed, but prepared. Whatever polite faces were being put on, Creed could literally smell the tension, much of it focused around the person of Jamaal. The kid's afraid of this Kwabena and, despite giving less than two rat's asses about the little puke himself, he's valuable to Magneto and he made Mary smile. So, anybody wants to snatch the rugrat's gonna have to deal with Sabretooth. He kind of does hope Magneto loses it, though, just a little bit. Seein' Kwa's head explode might get Mary in the right mood for their date tonight.
Its possible Phantasma only knows how to act properly when it inconveniences someone. Put on the spot, and amongst other's like her anyway, she decides to play a bit and gives a bow. Sweeping an arm across her stomach she leans forward. Rather than her head lowering however, it is her derriere that lifts up into the air. 
Truthfully, her head doesn't quiver in the slightest, and remains exactly where it was as she lowers her body back down to balance on the tiptoes of one foot again. Her other leg is crossed rather haphazardly behind her, as she leans in such a way that should leave her falling over shortly, but she stays still without a quiver.
There's even a hint of a blush, which is hidden by a gentle TUG on her hood, to hide her eyes a few moments, her smirk a mix of giddy and charmed. "Just, Phantasma." She speaks! At last... a haunting, quiet sort of voice. One that sounds like it hails from a flashback rather than someones mouth. Its amazing what whispering while incorporeal can do but she indeed likes the effect.
Largely she is content to just stand there and watch her friend squirm, harshly underestimating the level of tension in the air. The poor girl never did understand much about social environments...
The aftermention, or at least glance in her direction however, earns a light shake of her head. "No sir. Just... appreciating the man surpassing the legends." It was perhaps a cheesy line.. something out of a movie or.. something..., but perhaps it would slide well.
Kwabena looks to the spot and nods his head in confirmation. For a moment, he observes Phantasma's response to meeting Magneto with a half-cocked eyebrow, and he just can't help but grin. "She's got a singulah talent," he says to Magneto, then turns to Phantasma. "I hope you don't mind my putting you on de spot, kiddo."
Back to Magneto Kwabena turns, eyebrows raising into the air. "To be truthful, dere is a young man I've grown concerned with. I would tell you more, but such things should be reserved for privacy. Fortunately, it seems my concern is no longah warranted." He glances past Magneto, looking to the young man who hides behind Mary. "You're safe now, Mr. Jennings."
Magneto scrutinizes Phantasma for a moment, with a measuring depth to his eyes. An extremely astute person would recognize the expression of a man trying to determine whether or not he's being insulted. Anyone who has seen any bit of CNN or CSPAN would recognize the imminent danger the man presents; for instance, the time he flipped the prize of SHIELD, the helicarrier ARGUS, to retrieve one of his cohorts. Or when he murdered a half a thousand rebels by detonating a mountain with a five kiloton non-nuclear explosion. Needless to say, his reputation precedes him, snappy suit or no. 
"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Phantasma," he says, offering her the same politely delicate bow he'd offered Mary- that of a gentleman greeting a lady. Ever the master of nuance, even with something as simple as a gesture. "You /do/ have a unique talent. I am not quite sure I've met the like," he informs the girl. Clearly, Magneto sees more to her than meets the eye, even for the folk she'd phased through so effortlessly. 
Magneto looks back at Kwabena, then smiles at Mary and Jamaal, and turns back to Kwabena. There's another moment of weighing in his eyes, and he nods once. "Yes, I think you and I can talk," he says, the sentence enigmatic with entendre. 
At Lorna's attempt to dispel the tension, he smiles broadly, the approving father once more. He embraces her diversion, trying to break the tension in the group. "Do tell Wanda hello for me?" he requests of Lorna. "She can be terribly difficult to reach betimes, though I suspect she has thrown herself into her work."
"Put me on the.." Phantasma starts, brow raised, perhaps a little perplexed? She turns to look at Kwabena just as Magneto leans in to make himself known. A man of Erik's calibre will likely pick out a good deal about her. She's socially awkward, and has only actually heard of him recently. She's heard he's scary, so she's trying to be nice but doesn't know how. Probably abandoned, maybe run away, it's likely he's seen a thousand from her background.
Her abilities on the other hand, she's very ghostlike from her light steps and nigh weightlessness, and if any get close enough, her cold as death body. Socially awkward trumps most things, so all she can really bring herself to say, with the slightest uncertain hesitation is 'Gl-glad to meet your approval sir.' The hesitation coming from being unsure if she should say that. Already her eyes started to dart around, perhaps becoming a little self conscious of the enormity of the crowd around here...
When Kwabena mentions Jamaal, there is a hostility that comes into the boy's eyes, the kind that runs deep. And yet, something seems to stay Jamaal's mouth, his hand, keeps him still from taking the hostile action he attempted when he hunted Kwabena down in Hell's Kitchen. After what Kwabena says, and the way Magneto responds, that hostility melts into confusion. He eventually reaches a hand to squeeze Mary's where it rests upon his shoulder. It's trembling.
Meanwhile, Kwabena has met Magneto's weighing expression, and nods his head slowly at the decision. "Good."
And in short order, he's being nudged. He looks to Lorna with a blink blink of his eyes, and then grins widely. "Only if you tell me on de way. I'm sworn to secrecy." He looks back to Magneto, and reaches into his pocket to produce a card. "Dere ah more dan some few things you should hear, Imperator." His gloved hand slides out, offering the card to him. It merely has a cell phone number upon it. Then, in short order, he's turning about to disembark with Lorna. As for Phantasma? She's on her own... that's what she gets for haunting him this time.
"I will. Shall I pass your good regard on to Bobby as well? We're having a summer cook out at the end of the month," Lorna adds with visible relief that Magneto hasn't turned Kwa into anything. Her eyes shift to Victor and Mary out of habitual caution. "I'm sure I'll see Wanda since we work together. It's lovely to spend time with my sister." She adds looking over the area as if envisioning what the two could do here. She breaks off her day dreaming as Kwa begins to walk away.
Typhoid Mary can feel the boy tense when Kwabena begins speaking about him. When Jamaal's hand squeezes hers, trembling, she gently squeezes him back in as reassuring and comforting a fashion as she can--she's really not used to this kind of role, but she feels the urge to try. She bends and twists at the waist to whisper in his ear--her dreads obscure her face and Jamaal's, but anyone with super-hearing might hear what she says to the boy before she straightens, keeping her hand on his shoulder.
Long distance to Victor Creed: Typhoid Mary can be heard to say, "Don't worry, little man. I got your back, and so does my man, here. Alla us together, we'll keep you safe. When this is all over with, I'll show you some other cool tricks, 'kay?"
 
"Yes please, daughter dear," Magneto says, hugging Lorna before she leaves. "Kwabena." He nods at the Ghanaian mutant as they take their leave, then turns back to his former cohort and the woman next to him. "Jamaal, if you wouldn't mind, some of the younger children need help with setting up the tables? Tell them I told you that you are in charge," he instructs the boy. Jamaal nods and with a last glare at Kwabena, departs from the crowd- but not before giving Mary a quick, grateful hug around her neck as she stoops. He dashes off, and Magneto turns back to Mary, Victor, and the new arrival. 
"So, Phantasma, would you care to tell us a bit more about yourself? Your talent is an unusual one. I have watched Victor sniffing the air for five minutes now, so something about you is clearly bothering even his superior senses," he says with a friendly smile.
Lorna sneaks a quick hug from her father before catching up to her friend with the exciting motorcycle. She can regale Erik on her latest exploits another day since he's being important to the people right now and Kwa has been supportive enough for the day. "Oh so Kwa! It's this prank for Doug..." She rambles on as the get back to the bike.
Sweeping back and forth Phantasma does her best to keep an eye on her friend, but off he's brought. With a playful smirk, she none-the-less avoids making any audible comment... in present company. In fact, turning back to the astounding mutant before her and having him interested in her... it was bound to go to her head.
"I don't know what he's sniffing but I doubt its me. I tend not to leave much of a trail.". Sure enough there might be pockets with her scent here and there in the crowd, but for the most part she hasn't been interacting with 'your world' so much.
"I.. dunno, I'm kinda out of my league here truth be told. I'm just a punk ghost out in Gotham spooking people. Unless you got some people you want chased off I dunno what someone like me could do for someone like you."
There was a soft blush spiking in her pale cheeks, but it came with something else. She was showing off, maybe a little, but as her blush tinged her cheeks, her whole body went lightly translucent, perhaps about 60 opacity.. letting her be seen almost clear through.
Victor Creed relaxes a little as Kwa and Lorna make their departures, "Don't suppose you got any beer around this place?" he grins, sniffing the air. Any impoverished place has hobos and hobos mean cheap hooch. Not that Victor gets much more than a light buzz from even a whole bottle of whiskey. Still, it's the principle of the thing. He lets Mary take care of Jamaal, the psycho mutant having apparently bonded a bit with the kid, his amber eyes now firmly settled on young Phantasma.
Typhoid Mary, too, relaxes when Lorna and Kwabena make their way out. She gives Jamaal's shoulder a squeeze and tugs him out from behind her, "Coast is clear, big man." She smiles and arches a brow. "I promised to show you another trick; didn't I?" she asks. At a big nod from the boy's head, Mary nods along with him. "All right. Keep your eye on the palm," she says, holding her hand out flat, at a level where he can see easily, but not close enough for him to reach. Then, in her hand, she makes an overly earnest concentration face annnnnd... *POOF* 
A singular gout of flame, a little nebulous blob of fire, appears in her palm. Her eyes widen and her jaw drops, as if she's shocked--shocked! She closes her hand on the flame and it disappears, but reappears when she unclenches her fist. More shock. She holds her arm out way to the side and tries to 'shake' the flame off, but it simply does circles around her hand. Finally, looking frustrated, she brings her hand to her mouth and 'eats' the flame and 'burps' out some smoke. "Ahhhh," she pats her stomach, winking to the boy. "Don't try that at home," she makes twin finger guns at him, closing one eye for aim.
 
Jamaal laughs at the magic trick and runs off, leaving Mary and Victor standing next to Magneto and Phantasma. The Master of Magnetism looks positively perplexed, rubbing his chin and examining Phantasma as if she were a lab specimen. "/How/?" he asks her, finally. "This is the most peculiar mutation of the X-gene I have ever encountered," he states, half speaking to himself. 
"You look like a suspended endothermic reactional. Photons seem to pass right through you. I assume you can become completely invisible, at will..." He considers. "It's as if you can prevent every electron in your person to simply cease transfer of energy. How utterly fascinating." He reaches out a palm, not touching Phantasma physically, but brushing a wave of electromagnetic force through her person.
Shy perhaps to being the center of attention, at least by one gentleman in particular, there is a momentary flash in Phantasma's eyes. Fear? Apprehension? She takes a half step back, but moves about two inches further than that simple step would suggest, eyes now warily on Erik. Still, she tries to pass it off with a little bit of a smile, and says "Easily.". With a graceful pirouette she spins in the air, fading completely from sight, and then returning to full visibility again.
The movement of a hand towards her gets her eyes on it, but she doesn't move back again. Instead she just watches the hand, half curious half nervous, as it does.... something... she presumes.
The oddest thing was there was visible bits of metal on her. Zippers, buckles, buttons... but none of it registered. There was a small amount of... well.. the best way to describe it might be interference.. there was SOMETHING there, but nothing solid. Nothing tangible. Nothing that can be felt or indeed interacted with.
A few moments passing, and her blush still quite present, there's a rather bashful tone to her voice as she says "I... I can't be that special. Frig..." she says, forgetting herself and gesturing over "I can't do anything like... like.." she struggles for a fitting word, before making a rather silly and, looking back, embarrassing mimicry of your earlier show with the massive Ibeam.
Victor Creed is completely disinterested in Phantasma, taking a moment to leer at the scantily clad Mary while Magneto's engaged with the little dork. Mary's surprisingly good with kids, but she probably has a bit of a childlike side. Stunted growth, blah blah blah. Creed hated psychiatrists. They'd assigned Victor a shrink for a while in Weapon X. After the third session of asking about his feelings and probing at his childhood, he left that white coat soaked to a wine color. Kind of hard to ask stupid questions when your patient bit out your throat. Victor smiles slightly. Ah, good times.
Now that Jamaal's run off, Typhoid Mary straightens and leans against Victor, once more. Rejoining the conversation, after a fashion, Mary is also quickly bored. She turns a passive glance over Phantasma as Magneto examines the girl with curiosity that Mary just can't summon. Above her pay grade...AND grade level. She's not dumb, but she's not learned, either--except in the art of murder. And, really, that's all that matters to her. She knows what she does and she does it well. Looking up to Creed, she makes a face, "Drinky-drink-drink-drink?" Moments later, Jamaal comes back to wave goodbye to her, and she begins yet another round of 'Who Can Make the Silliest Face' with the boy.
 
"Quite the contrary, you have a gift that could prove surprisingly useful. I am quite curious as to how you accomplish what you do, as a mutant myself and a scientist. I strongly suspect it is an effect more magical in nature than physical," Magneto explains. The Imperator is gone- the scientist is utterly fascinated with the specimen in front of him. He's not ignoring Victor and Mary, but his attention has been utterly diverted. "I should like a further chance to discuss your mutation with you at greater length, if you are interested," he offers the girl. "A few hot meals at the embassy, in exchange for your time?" he offers solicitously.
With the conversation slowly switching to one painfully familiar to her, particularly at the mention of her talking to a scientist right now, Phantasma's demeanor becomes quickly more guarded. Unconsciously, she lifts a hand and rubs at a spot on the back of her neck, where a strange metal port for drug injections still lay. She had yet to even consider having it removed, due to the requirements of trusting someone to have it removed. She would never stay tangible long enough to... Meals?
Caution is one thing, but there's no reason to be rude.... calls the selfish part of her mind. She hadn't eaten recently... re: in a few days, but she still wasn't entirely trusting either.
"I can answer a few questions... I guess... but I've been 'studied'..." she emphasizes with air quotes, finally moving her hand from the back of her neck "... before... and I'm not exactly fond of that experience."
Still, there was no sense pretending to stand anymore. She drifts slowly, rather casually a few inches off the ground. She still stood plainly, but this may answer the earlier question nobody asked. She likely has been floating this while time.
Victor Creed laughs at Mary's gesture and playfully snaps his teeth at her. He turns to Magneto, "Not to interrupt, big guy, but I think my ladyfriend's anxious to get the evening's festivities underway...and I can't say I'm not a little eager myself. I'll swing by the Embassy soon, give us a better chance to catch up, talk about the future," he says. He flicks his eyes to Phantasma, the massive mutant having a certain charisma of his own, fearsome as it is. "Ain't nowhere in this world a mutant's safer than at Magneto's side. He won't steer ya wrong, pintsize," he grins, reaching over and grabbing Mary by the elbow, pulling her along a bit as she keeps making faces at Jamaal, who'd come back to say goodbye, "C'mon, 'fore Magneto hires ya to babysit..."
 
"Farewell, Victor, Mary," Magneto says, bidding them both safe travel. He offers a business card to Phantasma, and then offers her farewells as well. The Imperator returns to the construction site, leaving Victor and Mary to their 'celebration' and Phantasma to contemplate her options. In short order, more of those 20-ton I-beams are being driven into the ground, as a man pushes a toothpick into soft bread.
Phantasma takes the card, a brief moment where she's physically tangible, but only her hand. Magneto might feel the metal of her watch briefly exist, and then the card and her hand both phase back out again. A cold flood fills it as she takes it from his hand, looks at it, and slips it into her backpack without looking, or indeed bothering to open it! The backpack as well is briefly existing in the physical world, until she takes her hand out. A little wave to Magneto as he goes back to work, her tongue stuck out at Victor once his back is turned, and she decides enough is enough for one day. Besides... she had to think on this. Diving into the ground with all the grace of an olympic competitor, she vanishes from sight.
Category:Log