2013.10.26 - An Ode to a Prelude

Prelude's home in Hammer Bay. 
Even as anarchy descends on Hammer Bay, isolated pockets of stability have risen up against the madness. Places with strong civic involvement, where families or corporations have banded together out of common defense and need to survive. Plague sweeps the city, and the anarchy that more or less passes for 'normal' has descended into virtual civil war as people scrabble and fight for essentials such as food and clean water, let alone access to the limited medical aid coming in from Bastion or UNICEF via boats. Evacuation lines are miles long and corruption abounds as people bribe and fight their way to the front of the line. 
A knock comes on Prelude's door shortly after noon. Three brisk but loud raps, a knock-knock-knocking on her chamber door.
The apartment is in shambles. Paperwork, floppy disks, thumb drives, spent articles of clothing, innumerable half-finished cups of coffee, and the like. Prelude hasn't cleaned the place ever since the Spire went down and the outbreaks came. Cigarette ash litters multiple surfaces, and three cell phones are sitting upon a counter, charging up for their next round of rampant use.
She's barely slept a wink.
At the rapping upon her door, the middle-aged mutant looks up with a startled gasp. Grabbing a handkerchief, she presses it tightly against her mouth and nose, quickly stepping into a pair of heels before rushing over toward the door with a rapid 'cluk cluk cluk!' of heel against wood.
"Who is it?" comes the muffled voice. Her eyes are wide, sleep deprived, and terrified... for whomever might be on the other side of that door could be ridden with any number of horrible diseases.
The tumblers on the door lock rattle and click, and then the door swings open. Opposite Prelude stands a mutant in his mid thirties, dark haired and athletically energetic looking. He wears a tunic-style shirt with a broad belt around his waist, and an off-the shoulder short cape- the cape worn by the late Imperator, in point of fact. 
"Miss Prelude," the young man says, giving Prelude a level look. Without waiting to be invited, he steps forward several paces into the apartment, intense blue eyes flickering left and right. He walks right past Prelude, an expression of disapproval on his face. He brings one finger across a coffee table and frowns at the dust that collects there. "Well. I suppose I had expected someone a bit more... organized," the young man remarks, looking around the room with a critical eye. He turns to look at Prelude, giving her a level look. "I cannot imagine how you could have hoped to beat me in the race for the Presidency, if this is how you conduct your personal life."
The tumbling of the locks is entirely unexpected. The woman backs off, eyes wide with surprise and a very real fear. As the door opens, she finds herself backup further still, feeling the edge of a small cabinet upon her backside. The man who walks through seems utterly unfamiliar to her, but he looks healthy.
The way he's dressed though... it catches her eye with a most peculiar crook. With a trembling hand, she lowers the handkerchief, a sharp intake of air revealing that she'd been holding her breath. Too shocked yet to speak, she watches the man as he explores her apartment, torn between grabbing the nearest phone and dialing for security, or simply shrieking at the top of her voice.
The word brings insult to her face. "I beg your pardon?" Pushing away from the cabinet, she strides over toward him, her face drawn. "If you think this is how I normally--- GASP!"
It seems that Miss Prelude has just pieced a few things together.
Her hand comes up to her face, trembling even harder. She stares ashen at the man, as if she'd just seen a ghost.
"Ah. Good," Magneto says. "That will save some tedious discussions." He makes a small gesture and the phone- and the lights- and anything capable of channeling the least amount of electrical current shorts out, abruptly and finally. "I am afraid your bodyguards have been detained temporarily," Magneto informs the woman. "The entire building is under quarantine. The plague, you know," he says diffidently. He finds the cleanest chair, tosses a few items of clothing off of it, and settles languidly into the seat, crossing one leg over the other. "Rest assured, I intend them no harm. But it is past time you and I discussed the political situation here in Hammer Bay, and they were an inconvenience." 
"We have reached a moment of crisis, young lady," Magneto explains, steepling his fingers. "Hammer Bay will surely tear itself apart soon. Refugees are killing each other in the streets, and my doctors project a sixty percent mortality rate, given the city's lack of medical facilites outside of the clinic I built. You seem a reasonable person, if a bit myopically naieve. I am here to discuss how we-" he gestures back and forth from her to him- "can work together to save the city and preserve as much life as possible."
So shocked is Prelude that she doesn't even notice the shorting out of the apartments electronics. Not at first, anyway. Not until Magneto reveals how he slipped past her guards. Gradually, the shock fades in lieu of a stalwart disapproval, though there's still a sense about her that doesn't understand how, exactly, the young man is standing before her.
He could have been an imposter. But she would know better. Her X-Gene was rather unique, empathic in nature, and no lie slipped past her keen eyes. This man simply doesn't believe himself to be Magneto... he is the Imperator. There is no question.
Her voice is still somewhat shaky when she speaks again, but it now contains a renewed sense of strength. "Had I known you were coming, I would have tidied up," she quips, before walking over to her desk briskly and grabbing a chair, dragging it across the floor and setting it down right across from Magneto.
"That's just it, isn't it?" she asks, while leaning forward and folding her hands. "When you deem it's time to act, nothing stands in your way. Nothing. Haven't you learned yet that this is why people don't trust you?" She tilts her head somewhat. There are a dozen questions at least she would ask him, but for now, she'll settle on that one.
"Actually, I have learned that it is the /only/ reason people trust me," Magneto counters with one upraised finger. "I am the perfect politician. I do not compromise. I rarely bargain and when I do, it is for the benefit of my people. I am absolute, and therefore, uncorruptible. I serve no other interest /but/ the interests of the advancement of mutantkind." 
"I did not come here for a scholarly debate," he says, resting his hands in his lap. "There are vast and terrible things afoot, and this is a time for action, not for philosphy. Genosha- the whole of Genosha- needs a unified government. We /must/ unite, and frankly, Hammer Bay needs the resources at my disposal to ensure the entire population does not die of the plague." 
"I am going to push forward the election, backing you unilaterally for the position of the President." He lets that hang for a moment. "In return, your first official act will be to back me as the soverign ruler of the island. There are responsibilities that a ruler owes his people," he adds, holding a hand to forestall Prelude's reply. "The defense and security of the island. Medical and emergency aid. Stability and security. I can guarantee all of this, and I would prefer to do it without fiat by military force of arms."
As expected, Prelude opens her mouth in an attempt to speak, but she simply can't help but be stalled by the eloquent way in which the younger (well, perceivably younger) man speaks. It's so much more... impressive in person.
There are a few moments where the woman simply sits there, staring dumbfounded at him. The silence lingers for a long few moments, a pensive look on her face. "What of the humans?"
Prelude rises from the seat, walking boldly toward her bay window. "I agree that we must act," she says strongly. "A unified Genosha is a dream that many of our people seek. But what of the humans?" She turns to face him, her eyes plaintive. "If they strike at you, at us, we should strike back. I would expect nothing less. This is how wars begin, and it's how wars end. But what of the humans, Imperator?" She takes a few steps back toward him. "What of those who support our kind--who believe our genetic differences are not a thing upon which to wage wars or define liberties?" She raises a hand in an effort to forestall him. "Believe me, I want your help. I need your help. But I cannot simply hand it over without first understanding where you stand." She walks back toward him, fixing Magneto with her keen eyes and unshakeable perception.
"My stances on humans have not changed, nor will they," Magneto informs Prelude, his tone cool and collected. "We cannot share a world with them, let alone an island. If there is to be a grand experiment, let it be conducted elsewhere. Genosha is a nation by, for, and of mutants. Nothing less will suffice." 
"You do not agree with my views. Fortunately, agreement is not a requisite of compliance. I /will/ have Hammer Bay under order," he says. "Make no mistake. As President, you can supervise the peaceful transition of power. You can allocate medical aid, stamp out corruption, and arrange for the safe and orderly evacuation of every human resident of the city. I assure you, you will be given all reasonable time to accomplish this," he assures her. "You can ensure that no blood need be spilt in the process, and become the hero who helped unify Genosha and led to a harmonius future for all mutantkind." 
"Or I can order my Vanguard to march across the island, bring my armies across the mountains, and crush every ounce of resistance as I sweep every human in the city into the sea, boats or no boats." His tone doesn't modulate at all, speaking as frankly as if he were reciting a shopping list. 
"It is your choice, Prelude. You can become my ally, save Genosha, and protect the humans. Or you can be my enemy," he offers cooly. "Either way, this is non-negotiable, and the offer expires when I leave this apartment. I will need your answer. Now."
All the while, Prelude's expression remains unchanged. She listens to every word Magneto speaks, giving little clue to what she might think of him or his views.
Until he proposes just what he would do if she were not to take a place at his side.
A tear wells up in Prelude's eyes. A single tear, followed by another and another. He paints such a picture of what lengths he would go to. Her head lowers, and she turns away so that he might not see the water welling beneath her eyelids.
"This island needs you. It needs order, it needs help. You would save so many lives..." But she lived through Apartheid. She knows what happens when people refuse to accept each other's differences. She herself carries a stain of guilt upon her youth, one she may never be rid of.
She's tempted by his offer. Tempted to a point where she nearly caves in, and accepts. The mental nightmare of his power sweeping upon the island is terrible and beautiful at once. And he won't leave without an answer. She knows this to be true... because she knows he is not lying.
Turning back to face Magneto, she provides him a smile. She walks closer, reaching for the man's younger, stronger hands. "Magneto... Erik." She cants her head just so, but her smile begins to grow apologetic. "I have no doubt that you will save this island. And I wish that I could stand at your side." A tear drops down her face, but her voice remains strong. "But not at such cost. I believe in equality... and I could never live with myself knowing what I've let you become."
Releasing the man's hands, she steps back and away, suddenly looking upon him as if he were a monster.
"Their deaths will be on your soul."
And then she turns away, closing her eyes and expecting nothing more than the worst.
Magneto nods. "Well. I wish I could say I respect your opinion, but you, frankly, are stupider than I thought." Magneto gets to his feet and flicks dust from his pants. He buffs his nails on his shirt with a critical expression. "Let me... dumb this down a bit for you. What is more valuable? Your principles, or the lives of the humans you profess to protect? I am offering you a chance to /save them all/," Magneto says. For all his apparent youth, his voice cracks with the absolute authority of a professor dressing down a foolish pupil. "In point of fact, their deaths will be on /your/ soul. You, who could have saved them. Perhaps all of them," Magneto points out. "So, consider that /very carefully/, Prelude," he says, stepping forward and bowling the woman back with sheer force of personality. His eyes glitter like a jungle cat's predatory and ready to pounce. "/Your/ life... or /theirs/." He folds his arms across his chest. "Are you sure that is your final answer?"
"I would have partnered with you!" she gasps, opening her eyes again and backing away. "I would have done anything to save lives. But no, you're wrong. I am not the one laying claim to an entire nation in the name of one species. Their deaths will be on your soul, for you are too blinded, or angry, or weak to take a different approach!"
Oh, she fears him. She fears every single thing he is capable of, but her tears are not for herself. They are for his enemies. The ones he hates.
Her arm shoots up, pointing toward her bay window and the anarchy taking place outside. "The only thing keeping you from saving every last one of them is your determination to define 'them' as 'us', and 'us' only. That is your decision, and it's flawed! How is it different from genocide? From terrorism? From slavery?" She shakes her head now, voice trembling from grief and anger. "I won't live as your slave, and by God, neither will my friends, human and mutant alike."
She lifts her hand again, only this time it's pointed at the door. "Go and get your armies, Magneto. I won't serve your breakfast on a dish of inequality. Leave."
Terrified and yet driven by a deep seated belief in the good of mankind, she thrusts her hand at the door again and shrieks, "Leave!"
Magneto rises and with a liquid grace, smashes his fist into Prelude's jaw with enough force to shatter it, rendering the woman unconscious with no particular effort on his part. He makes a gesture with one hand. In a few minutes, the sound of ringing sirens fills the air as medical and police forces descend on the building. Several men wearing full medical hazmat clothing burst into the room and spread out, looking at Magneto with patient expectation. 
"Search this room for any evidence. Confiscate all her computers and any notes. Be thorough. Get her in a bodybag and get her out of here," he orders two of them. "I want her brain scanned and then prepped for Vanguard service. No one will notice a body in the commotion. Get her out of here in a bodybag while the building is being evacuated, then start a fire in the basement and let this place burn to the ground." 
Magneto slips into a hazmat suit, hiding his face behind a mask, and in short order heads down the stairs, working and hanging up plague warnings as he goes and effectively blending into the rest of the crowd. 
Ten minutes later, a few dozen people are standing on the street being tested for plague. 'Prelude' is apparently among them- and the moment the shapeshifter is tested, she vanishes into the night. 
A few minutes later, someone throws a molotov into the bottom floor of the building. The flames build quickly, and quiet, terrified faces watch the inferno build as the fire claims the home of the woman who had fought so hard for the position of President.
Category:Log