2014.02.13 - Feeling Out Magneto

"Yes, I agree," Magneto says, speaking in quite, professional tones to a pair of men and a woman. One man and the woman are evidently in their fifties, and the fourth man has a young, fresh-faced look about him. "Something grand would work nicely here, as a symbol."
The four of them stand in the center of a blasted heath, the former site of the Mutant Action Center. Replaced by trailers and mobile homes, the new MAC is little more than a vision and some concrete slabs, built in fits and starts as funding trickles in.
Magneto does not look like an Imperator. He looks like an anachronistic businessman, wearing a dark fedora and a grey pin-striped double breasted suit. His youthful features peg him as closer to thirty at first glance, but the weighing, measured stare in his blue eyes and the controlled tones of his resonant baritone make him sound much, much older. "Finalize the drafts and send them to me. I will see what I can do to help."
A few more polite exchanges follow, and the group disperses, leaving Magneto standing alone for a few moments and checking over what looks like a smartphone plucked from one pocket. He doesn't touch it- his will alone guides the tiny machine, looking over reports no doubt from Genosha and his various interests.
Calvin Rankin has been doing a lot of research since he hit this reality. Since he's here to stay, at least he hopes so, it pays no know something about his new home and most importantly what's different about it. So he's been browsing not just history but current events. And ever since that talk the other day about Genosha, he's been curious about this version of Magneto. Official reports, news and gossip can only do so much however so he's been setting alerts on google and twitter for updates. And sure enough, at least one person with a smartphone recognized the ruler of Genosha, got a pic, tweated it and started a conversation. Which lets Cal know where to go assuming Magneto is still there when he arrives. But when you've mimiced Northstar, arriving most anywhere doesn't take that long.
Keeping some semblance of anonymity, Cal lands between a couple mobile homes before wandering out towards Magneto. He makes sure to approach openly, from the man's front, and studies him curiously. "Hello." he says once he gets close enough.
Magneto stops and looks up from his smartphone, examining Calvin head to toe, then his eyes narrow shrewdly. "Hello," he says, his tone neutral, not quite turning to face Calvin. "Is there something you need, young man?" he inquires. He gestures vaguely at his phone. "I am afraid I am not scheduled for a public appearance for a few days." He pauses for a moment. "Oh, of course. You came here to speak with me privately." He rolls his eyes at his own lack of mental initiative. "You caught me at a moment of distraction." He turns the phone off, tucking it into his pocket, and examines Cal, facing him fully.
"You of course know who I am. Might I know who you are?" he asks the younger man, resting his cane between his toes and leaning minutely against it.
Cal nods at Magneto's belated assumption. "Calvin Rankin." he answers forthrightly. He makes no effort to shake hands, letting the other man decide to initiate that if he chooses to. "I'm sorry to interupt. I can make an appointment if that works better for you? You must be busy with everything." Including whatever this place is/was and he glances around curiously before turning back.
Magneto does indeed offer a polite handshake to the younger man. "Magneto," he explains, simply. Like Madonna, or Prince. One name. "Appointments are best, but you've successfully caught me at a good time. You must be new to New York," Magneto says, gesturing around them. "Almost two years ago, Sentinels landed here and kidnapped me, and a dozen mutants died as they demolished the facility. We are only now ready to move on and start discussing reconstruction." His diction is clipped and precise, textbook perfect with a hint of an Eastern European accent.
"So how can I help you, young man? Are you merely a tourist, or are you here with larger concerns?"
"New to New York, yes." Cal agrees, clasping the offered hand. "New to this reality in fact." Which could make him a tourist. "Sentinels. Does the program still exist here?" No one mentioned it at the school so at least they aren't active. "But to answer your questions, I was hoping to talk to you about Genosha. At your convenience, of course."
"Ah, that explains quite a bit." Magneto nods to himself. "I suspected something along those lines. I do seem to attract my share of dimension-hoppers and time travellers," he says with a rueful chuckle. "And yes, the program does exist here, albeit covertly. Agencies with no official attachment to a government, rogue nations, that sort of thing. The plans for Sentinel units were spread on the internet a few years ago, and it has been a perennial issue."
"As for Genosha... well, that's quite a topic in and of itself. We are a small island nation, but growing economically and fiscally strong," he says, contemplating his words carefully. "A haven for mutants and meta-humans of all varieties. Only a hundred thousand of us live on the island, but we are growing rapidly, and I like to think there is great promise for the future for a refuge for superhumans the world over. What else would you like to know?"
"You and the School both." Cal notes. "I'd assume that mutants are more likely to either have that ability or be thrust into situations where it happens. So seeking out one of the two opposing poles of..." Hmm, sounds like? "...Philosophy probably seems like the best option." he surmises. It's what he did, after all. "Not just mutants?" Cal asks, sounding surprised. "All meta-humans as well? I hadn't heard that part of it. And what about humans? Are they welcome? Deported? Second class citizens?"
"Deported, one and all," Magneto confirms. "Meta-humans are, by hook or by crook, among our numbers. Some have a genetic legacy, others are burdened with gifts great and terrible. How can I turn them away, when humanity has turned their backs on them? They are more akin to us than homo sapien."
"And I could not let humans remain on Genosha. Hammer Bay tried- tried for years. It was an anarchy, terrible and dysfunctional. When the city ceded control to my government, they did so with the understanding that the time had come to make Genosha a free island, for and of mutants. Humans have no place among us. They have all the rest of the world to inhabit and live upon- is it so much to ask for a small piece of land to call our own?"
"In the short run? No." Cal answers with a small sigh. "I can certainly appreciate the desire. In the long run? Segregation doesn't build bonds or encourage tolerance and understanding. May I ask what your long term goals are?"
"To ensure that mutants have a home," Magneto says, sounding a bit taken aback at the question. "Whether through force, coercion, or diplomacy. Charles has made efforts for decades to to try and build that kind of rapport. So have dozens of other mutants. But none of them looked at the mutants struggling in the sewers or the back alleys, the ones who can't 'pass' for human on the streets. They had no home. Morlocks, the Brotherhood... hundreds of them. Thousands over the United States, cast out from society because of how they looked."
"And I have made a home for them. I wish to maintain the home I have created for them."
"So world domination is right out?" Cal's tone is flippant but the question is as serious as his gaze. "You only intend to use force if attacked?" It might sound like a change of topic when he says "My home reality had no anti-mutant prejudice to speak of. The X-Men were just as respected as the Avengers and discovering one was a mutant was easier than discovering one was gay. You could aspire to be a superhero. I don't know why it was that way. I've been trying to find out what is different here and in other realities I've seen. The ones where one side hated and feared the other were always pretty horrible places."
"So world domination is right out?" Cal's tone is flippant but the question is as serious as his gaze. "You only intend to use force if attacked?" It might sound like a change of topic when he says "My home reality had no anti-mutant prejudice to speak of. The X-Men were just as respected as the Avengers and discovering one was a mutant was easier than discovering one was gay. You could aspire to be a superhero. I don't know why it was that way. I've been trying to find out what is different here and in other realities I've seen. The ones where one side hated and feared the other were always pretty horrible places."
"We have had our ups and downs," Magneto explains. "Tims where mutants have been accepted, times where they have been reviled. Genosha was thrown down once, and I brought her back up from the ashes. Mutants have been leaders, and they have been subjugated."
"I have no desire to rule the world," Magneto confirms, shaking his head. "I merely wish to ensure that the legacy of Homo Novus survives- that we are not pushed into the back corners of society, to die in quiet ignominity as just a genetic dead end of the evolution of humanity."
"I owe the Professor everything." That this isn't exactly his Professor doesn't really worry Cal. "I believe in his dream. But I don't see why your two approaches can't exist simultaneously. I'm glad there's a place where the Morlocks can see the sun without fearing being attacked. Where they can be with their own." He nods, mostly to himself as he processes the idea. "I'd like to see it."
"Ahh, Charles. The other 'fixed point'." Magneto shakes his head. "It is a rare visitor to my reality who does not see us entertwined, somehow. Foes or friends. It seems we are a pivot point in every world, in one form or another," he chuckles, amused at the pattern that forms.
"You are more than welcome to visit," Magneto says, inviting Cal to the island. "We ask that those with some money help offset the cost of transportation, but there are flights available to India and boats that run regularly to Genosha. I think you will find it a lovely place- the weather is quite tractable, especially this time of year."
Cal nods at the observation. "Not every world but many. And in some, you are the voice of tolerance." Which came as quite the surprise to him. "I don't have any money but I can fly there on my own. Or ask a teleporter I know. I have to say, I'm very happy to have met you and discover that this reality doesn't contain one of the more extreme versions of you."
"Extreme. Interesting choice of words," Magneto muses. "I suppose there must be worlds where I never made the mistakes of youth, and charged forward with a full head of steam and no restraint. Small blessings, those foolish trip-ups," he chuckles, shaking his head ruefully. "I will have to bear that notion in mind the next time I am seized by a wild hare idea of some kind."
Cal smiles at the comment. "From our short discussion, I'd consider your philosophy relatively moderate compared to some realities. And as I said, in some it was you who was leading the fight for tolerance between humanity and mutants." He pauses a moment then says quietly "I knew your son."
"Perhaps you can become re-acquainted with him again," Magneto smiles. "He's a bit of a gadabout, but not impossible to locate. I keep hoping he will come back and settle down to some real work, but he seems intent on living a life of independence. At least Wanda is involved with a super hero group," he chuckles, well aware of the irony.
"Calvin, I hope to see you on Genosha soon. And you may stop by the Embassy any time you like for another conversation. I quite enjoyed this one," he assures the younger man, offering him another handshake.
Cal looks confused as he clasps the hand but smiles. "Magnus is here as well? He didn't mention a sister but I didn't know him well and only briefly. I just wanted to tell you that he died a hero. He asked us not to tell that reality's version of you who he is but one of you should know."
Magneto shakes his head. "His mother named him Pietro. Not Magnus," Magneto clarifies. "But it is a good name, nonetheless. And he is very much alive."
"I must be on my way. Good bye, young man," Magneto smiles again. "I hope to meet you again soon. Hopefully in sunnier climes." He lifts a hand in farewell and takes his leave, moving with a briskly energetic pace back into the fray.
"A pleasure, sir." Cal watches Magneto walk away before turning and walking between a couple mobile homes where he then flies away. He's got a lot to think about but he can't help but smile.
Category:Log