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A Night of Dark Promise; [Max, Mystique, Open]
Topic Started: Nov 3 2007, 07:20 AM (683 Views)
Max_Coleridge
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Darkforce Manipulation, Teleportation
There was a chill in the night which greeted the patrons to the grand opening of the Black Square. Ladies in evening gowns, with heirloom jewelry glittering on their necks and fingers, were escorted from sleek black cars by men in tuxedoes, with personalities as stiff as their starched as their collars. Although most of the patrons, a mixture of snowy haired couples and the young and ambitious social climbers, were mingling in the gallery, Salem’s high society rolled beyond their tall iron gates to see and be seen; the exhibits were only briefly glanced upon.

All heads turned at the entrance of a man, with a female companion on each arm, from the connecting door between the Coleridge Gallery and the King’s Court. He gave them the easy, confident smile of a well-bred man used to the limelight… even though he couldn’t see it. The only thing that marred the twenty-something socialite’s appearance was the opaque, black wraparound glasses.

“My friends,” he addressed the gathering from the top of the stairs. “I’m extremely pleased to see so many willing patrons here tonight.” A chuckle of laughter circulated the room at the reference to his own handicap; rumors as to how he became blind had circulated the New York social scene ever since the return of Maximilian Coleridge several years ago. Max himself made no secret of telling conflicting stories each time he was questioned about the circumstances.

“The warm welcome I’ve received from your charming community gives me great hopes for my future here.” A serving tray with a Champaign flute was presented by a hostess. Max made no move for it; instead, one of the women at his side, with coffee-colored skin, took the glass and placed it in his hand. “To the prosperity of Salem… and the Black Square,” he said and lifted his glass in toast.
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Mystique
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Rumors: Mystique hated them. She hated little snippets of possible truths that found their way to her through her many contacts in the mutant underground. What Mystique wanted were facts, undeniable, proven facts. She couldn’t do anything with rumors, except for verify or disprove it, which was exactly what she was doing at the Black Square on opening night.

The Hellfire Club was known for being so elite and selective that you probably had a likelier chance of winning the lottery than gaining entrance. Memberships were handed down through generations, but that wasn’t what she was interested in. It was these whispers of an ‘Inner Circle’ that caught her interest and made her wonder just what was going on at the newest attraction in Salem.

That night she was someone new, a lovely woman of Hispanic heritage that went by the name of Magdalena. Her long, silky dark hair was left down to hang down her back in loose curls save for a few front pieces that were pinned away from her face with an elegant diamond barrette. While most of the women that had come out to the opening were wearing dresses of black and white, hers was a vibrant, eye-catching shade of deep red.

She moved gracefully through the crowd of people gathered in the gallery, a champagne flute clutched lightly in her graceful fingers. Like any high-society social butterfly she mingled and made small talk while admiring the artwork exhibited in the building until her attention was caught by one man in particular as he made his entrance.

Max Coleridge was indeed striking, in more ways than one, and she listened intently to his every word, raising her glass in a toast as everyone around her did the same. And then she quietly slipped away from the group she’d been chatting with and made her way towards him.

“Mr. Coleridge,” she greeted warmly when she reached him, putting on a smile that was mostly for his companion’s benefit. He was, after all, supposedly blind, though that had been another rumor she’d heard though it was much less credible than the others. “I just wanted to congratulate you on the opening. Your gallery is absolutely amazing, really.”
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Max_Coleridge
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“Mr. Coleridge, I just wanted to congratulate you on the opening. Your gallery is absolutely amazing, really.” A woman’s voice said. Over the years, he’d become a connoisseur of voices; this one was satiny smooth and the touch Spanish gave a suggestion of sweltering nights.

Max turned his head to face the source of the comment and smiled. It was commonly known that Max was blind; however, common knowledge isn’t necessarily accurate knowledge. As though responding to an unspoken command, the two guides drifted back a step in unison and waited. If either felt a spark of jealousy at the exotic woman’s arrival, it didn’t show in their eyes.

He saw the stunning Hispanic lady perfectly well, noticed the sway of her long, dark curls and the sharp line of her jaw. In the cold, northern country of blues and black for evening wear, she was a dark, exotic beauty in deep crimson. However, what really caught his eye was her unequivocal, almost brash, summons for attention and he was more than willing to oblige.

“Thank you. I must admit that I’m somewhat overwhelmed myself at the astounding turnout we’ve had.” He extended his hand toward, which hovered emptily for only a moment. “If I’d known what a warm welcome I’d have, I would’ve come sooner,” he said and brought her hand to his lips. “Please, call me Max,” he said and waited for her to offer a name.
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Warren Worthington
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Though his membership of the Hellfire Club was not he shouted from the rooftops, Warren found that it did have its uses. He had inherited the position from his father and though he had rejected the invitation to join the Inner Circle, he still frequented the Club from time to time. It was always good to have the contacts and there were a few old friends he liked to keep up with. One of them was the man currently addressing the assembled people, though really he was never sure if ‘friends’ was quite the correct term for his relationship with Max Coleridge.

Taking a cursory mouthful of champagne he tried to rid himself of the drink as soon as Max had finished and the sounds of the assembled crowd conversing rose again. He glanced down at the woman who was currently talking to him and smiled politely, she was the eldest daughter of a board member of his company and so he put on a show of being interested in what she was saying. His blue eyes strayed around the room, searching for the only woman in the room he was really interested in. She had moved off to look at the artwork and the moment she was gone from his side, the blonde woman he was currently listening to had appeared. He suppressed a sigh and wished people could be a little less obvious.

The blonde…Alisa he thought, was looking at him expectantly. Oh right, he was supposed to respond. He nodded and gave some non-committal reply, and concentrated more fully on the discussion for a few more minutes before he politely excused himself. He made his way across the room, his attention solely on Ari as he walked towards her.

“I swear some people should have their voice box removed at birth.” He muttered to Ari as he came up behind her, resting a hand briefly on the small of her back and dipping his head slightly so she could hear what he was saying. His eyes moved over her curved form which looked frankly incredible in a midnight blue dress, the colour seeming to make her smooth skin glow. Her dark hair had fallen behind her shoulder, revealing the elegant line of her neck on one side and he had to drag his eyes away as vivid memories of how the skin of her neck felt against his lips flooded his mind. It wasn’t long since their…discussion in the laundry room but already being this near to her was hard. He really needed something to distract him.

“I think it would be good idea to go and catch Max now” he told, getting to the main point of them being here. Warren glanced over at Coleridge, noticing he was talking to a rather stunning Hispanic woman who definitely stood out from the crowd in the red dress, he probably wouldn’t appreciate the interruption but it would be kind of amusing. He guided Ari over, waiting for the right moment to join in.

“Max. Good to see you” Warren said with a grin, as he clasped the other man’s hand in a quick hand shake. He stepped backand put a hand lightly behind Ari’s elbow to move her forwards. “This is Ari Boyd. Ari, this is Max Coleridge.” He said, introducing the two before looking between Max and the woman standing with him “Going to introduce me to your lovely companion, or do I have to do it myself?” Warren asked, lips quirking into a smile, a hint of a good natured challenge in his eyes.
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Ari Boyd
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Ari was lost in the painting in front of her, her dark eyes moving carefully over the thickly visible brush strokes. For a moment, she felt inwardly calm, her mind working on deciphering the piece. Aside from this peaceful moment, Ari felt like a bundle of nerves. And there was more than one reason as to why.

First, Warren, who she'd barely seen since their 'thing' in the laundry room, had invited her out. That in itself had taken her completely by surprise. Was he really going to allow himself to be seen with her in public? The rules had not been spoken aloud, but it was obvious that this was a friendly outing. To his credit, Warren had kept his word about trying to help her with her art. He'd insisted this opening would help. The owner, Max something-or-other, was supposed to be very influential and apparently a great connection to have. Ari had leaped at the chance, both because she truly did want to succeed in the art world, and because being in close proximity to Warren was far too enticing to pass up.

She'd found a dress in the back of her closet, one of the few nice ones she had and had set to work. Just because she and Warren couldn't be more than friends didn't mean she couldn't try to send his tongue wagging from time to time.

Now that she was at the gallery though, Ari's nerves had taken over. All these people...so stiff and boring. What did they really know about art? Mere collectors for the sake of collecting. More than half of the people there hadn't even attempted to glance at a painting. It was obvious that this was more for airs and social contacts than anything else. She would bet her heels on it. And she really liked her heels. A shame really because there was truly some beautiful work to be seen.

Ari cast a look over her shoulder, spotting Warren and an annoying-looking blonde talking. Ari's lips pursed slightly and she refocused her attention on the painting. Warren wasn't hers. Just a friendly outing... Right. Just to get her foot in the door, she reminded herself. She couldn't blame the girl for trying, as rude as it was to wait for her to be gone from his side. Warren was looking drool-worthy in a black pinstripe suit that fit him perfectly. Dressed all in black, he looked more like a guy on the cover of GQ than some marketing professor. Giving a shake of her head, Ari focused hard on the painting, though she couldn't deny that different images now seemed to be in its place.

“I swear some people should have their voice box removed at birth.” He muttered to Ari as he came up behind her

His comment reached her first, and she grinned, her eyes rolling slightly as she turned to look at Warren. The warmth of his fingertips through her dress distracted her for a moment. A certain look in the blonde's blue eyes, and her mind faltered in finding a quip fast enough. Covering her hesitation with a smirk, Ari said, "But then how would they be able to annoy you?" Okay...not her best. She'd have to blame Warren. His nearness was distracting.

“I think it would be good idea to go and catch Max now” he told

Ari felt a knot rise in her stomach, her grin fading instantly. "Right now?" she whispered urgently, clutching her purse tightly. What if she made a fool of herself? She wasn't the best conversationalist with new people, especially when she felt so small on the totem pole. Swallowing hard, Ari licked her lips, allowing herself to be dragged over towards Max and a very beautiful woman. Probably an escort service.

"I feel nauseous--" she whispered, sending Warren a pleading look. But alas, it was too late. Max and the woman were in front of her. She heard Warren introducing her, and for a second, she blanked out. What was she supposed to say? Oh right...how about a hello?

She sent a side glance toward Warren at his words about the woman, resisting the urge to bop him on the head with her purse. He's not mine, she thought for what must've been the fifth time this evening. "Nice to meet you Mr. Coleridge," she said, giving him her best smile and extending her hand for a shake. A firm one. That was supposed to show confidence in business situations. Right? Or should it be a dainty girly one? She was willing to bet the woman in the red dress had given a dainty one. Oh well, too late, her hand was already extended...


[Ari's dress]
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Mystique
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Mystique only briefly glanced to Max’s guides as they stepped back a pace from Max before her dark eyes returned to his face. She studied his features, committing them to memory for possible future use. After all, you never know when the opportunity to masquerade as a jet-setting playboy billionaire might come up, and Mystique always likes to prepared.

“Thank you. I must admit that I’m somewhat overwhelmed myself at the astounding turnout we’ve had. If I’d known what a warm welcome I’d have, I would’ve come sooner,” he said and brought her hand to his lips. “Please, call me Max.”

She laid her hand in his the moment he made the motion, smiling warmly. “Ah, then Max it is,” she replied. “I am Magdalena, though most tend to call me ‘Maggie’ after they stumble over my real name a few times too many. It really is quite a mouthful,” she added with a laugh that was both sweet and sultry at the same time.

Lightly she sipped her champagne. “I think part of it is that most establishments in North Salem have been dreadfully lacking when it comes to true class. It’s about time we get something with a little…culture,” she said with a bit of a chuckle. “And I suppose we have you to thank for that.”

It was then that Warren Worthington approached, a younger member of the X-men on his arm, and she found herself restraining a smirk. Instead she smiled welcomingly at him, laughing a bit at his words to Max. “Go on, Max, introduce us,” she chided teasingly considering the fact that they had only first met.

Her gaze shifted to Ari and she continued to play the part of a sociable aristocrat, giving the younger woman a wink. “You really must tell me where you go fishing,” she said cryptically as she leaned in closer. “He’s quite the catch, after all.” Her voice was low, quiet, and she glanced towards Warren for emphasis.
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Max_Coleridge
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“I am Magdalena, though most tend to call me ‘Maggie’ after they stumble over my real name a few times too many. It really is quite a mouthful,” she added with a laugh that was both sweet and sultry at the same time.

He held her hand in his as she spoke, his fingers discreetly gliding over her smooth skin and between her long fingers.

“Magdalena it is then,” he gave her a smile and tilted his head, “never let it be said that I settle for going the easy route. Besides, you don’t sound like a Maggie; your voice lacks that certain keening, peppy quality of someone whose life revolves dog show grooming and making scrapbooks for their family.”

He released her hand and lifted his glass. “Everyone seems to enjoying themselves. Perhaps they were merely looking for a reason to get out and live a little.”

“I think part of it is that most establishments in North Salem have been dreadfully lacking when it comes to true class. It’s about time we get something with a little…culture,” she said with a bit of a chuckle. “And I suppose we have you to thank for that.”

Max joined her laughter, “Not at all, I’m merely a facilitator, giving culture a place to flourish.” He paused and listened to the murmur of conversation around him, “Are you…” His question was stalled by the interruption of a familiar voice.

“Max. Good to see you” Warren said with a grin, as he clasped the other man’s hand in a quick hand shake. He stepped back and put a hand lightly behind Ari’s elbow to move her forwards. “This is Ari Boyd. Ari, this is Max Coleridge.” He said, introducing the two before looking between Max and the woman standing with him “Going to introduce me to your lovely companion, or do I have to do it myself?” Warren asked, lips quirking into a smile, a hint of a good natured challenge in his eyes.

“Worthington… always good to see you too,” he said as his hand was suddenly gripped. Warren did know about that he was a mutant but Max doubted if Warren was certain he could still see or was actually blind; either way, he was certain Warren would keep up the charade, he had his own secrets to protect. Max waited for the attractive brunette to speak before shifting his blank gaze toward her.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Coleridge," she said, giving him her best smile and extending her hand for a shake. A firm one.

“Ari, a lovely name.” He said as he returned her clasp. “Please, call me Max. If you’re with Worthington, then I won’t have to tell you what a fine man he is… I’m sure he’s already let you know that.”


“Go on, Max, introduce us,” she chided teasingly considering the fact that they had only first met.

He flashed her a playful smile. “Warren Worthington, this is Magdalena; we’ve known each other for simply ages… approximately five minutes, wouldn’t you say, my dear?” His blind gaze shifted to Magdalena, “but as they say, its quality, not quantity that matters.”
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Warren Worthington
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Covering her hesitation with a smirk, Ari said, "But then how would they be able to annoy you?"

“I’m sure they’d find a way.” Warren replied wryly, and then shot her a sideways glance, his blue eyes sparking with mischief. “That’s what women are good at right? Annoying men in every possible way?” He commented, raising an eyebrow at her. He was fairly blatantly trying to tease a reaction out of her, humour evident in his tone. He hadn’t failed to notice her slight hesitation, and he worked to make her more comfortable. It wasn’t easy when his mind was full of the kisses they’d share and all he really wanted to do was stage a lengthy repeat of those events. Or at the very least, just be able to show her some affection.

"Right now?" she whispered urgently, clutching her purse tightly.

“Yes right now.” Warren replied, softening as he saw how obviously nervous she was. He had no doubt though that she manage to charm Max, and hopefully that, plus a viewing of her artwork would seal the deal. “Cliché of all clichés, but just be yourself Ari, that’s more than enough. You managed to hook me after all.” He added, speaking a low tone as they crossed the room, giving her a wink as he referred for the first time to their conversation and subsequent embrace in the laundry room. It felt a little strange but they were going to have to get used to it, especially if they wanted to keep the fire between them burning. He gave a quiet chuckle and shot her an encouraging smile as she complained of feeling sick but by then they were already meeting up with Max.

Warren rolled his eyes good naturedly at Max’s comment to Ari, and he was fairly sure the man could see that expression but really who knew besides Max? He was possibly pretending to be blind and Warren was pretending he didn’t have wings growing from his shoulder blades. “That’s rich coming from you, Coleridge.” Warren replied with a smirk.

Magdalena’s sultry comment put him slightly on the defensive, as she seemed to be involved in some sort of inner joke. Whether it was at his expense or Max, he wasn’t sure. As the other man introduced them, Warren met her eyes as he took her delicate hand gently in his, holding it in a light clasp for a moment before releasing it.

“Nice to meet you Magdalena” he said with a warm smile. She was certainly stunning, he had to give Max that. They had similar taste in women which has lead to a fair few rivalries in the past but for once he didn’t feel the need to compete for this woman’s affections. “Five minutes? Has he offered to show you his private jet yet?” Warren asked with light hearted smile.

As Magdalena leaned in to speak to Ari, Warren looked towards Max. “Nice place you’ve got here.” He commented. “Shame the crowd is a little more appreciative of style over substance.” His eyes shifted around the room as he spoke, taking in the general crowd with a vaguely dismissive glance. He knew most of the people were here to be seen rather than appreciate gallery, though there seemed to a general consensus that the venture was a success.
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Ari Boyd
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"You managed to hook me after all.” He added.

Ari's cheeks flushed momentarily and she felt quite pleased with herself. "Is that what I did?" she asked teasingly. At least he wasn't completely acting like she was just a friend again. She'd have to do her very best to keep him interested. It seemed to flow quite easily at the moment, but there were still weeks ahead in which his feelings could change.

“Ari, a lovely name.” He said as he returned her clasp. “Please, call me Max. If you’re with Worthington, then I won’t have to tell you what a fine man he is… I’m sure he’s already let you know that.”

Ari's smile widened slightly, her head bowing at the compliment, "Thank you." So maybe Max wasn't as scary as her brain had made him out to be. Besides, he was Warren's acquaintance, and as long as Warren didn't suddenly leave her alone, she was beginning to feel relatively at ease.

She gave a smile towards Warren, her eyes returning to look at Max, "He's a gentleman." She left it at that, though inwardly, she was reminding herself that she and Warren were strictly friends at the moment. She wasn't with him, like Max's words had suggested. Unfortunately.

God she felt weird. The trio in whose company she was in, were years older than her. Successful, no doubt. And Magdalena was so striking that she felt quite plain in comparison. Not to mention that she seemed to be an expert flirt, while Ari felt she was nearly incapable of the skill. Only when she felt like her feelings would be reciprocated did she even attempt to be flirty with a guy.

Ari smiled towards the woman, no hint of her thoughts on her face. "I like your dress," she said with a nod. Truly, it was a pretty nice dress, particularly when everyone was in such drab colors.

“You really must tell me where you go fishing,” she said cryptically as she leaned in closer. “He’s quite the catch, after all.”

Ari had been waiting for something like this since she'd stepped into the gallery. A small smile curved her lips and she laughed slightly, "I suppose he is." She glanced towards Warren for a second before returning her gaze to Magdalena. Hell yes, he was a catch. Her catch.

"We're just friends, so I wouldn't know," she said easily. An impish look crossed her features, "I'd introduce you, but its a little late for that." Inwardly, she was far less confident on this issue. For the sake of keeping their feelings between them, Ari was basically forced to give Magdalena the impression that Warren was free. And honestly, it killed her.

Not wanting to be questioned further, Ari nodded towards the gallery, "So are you a buyer? Or a contributor?" The brunette smiled towards Max and Warren, "Congratulations on the opening by the way. The work is amazing."
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Mystique
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Oh, he was good, that much she had to admit. The way his fingers moved delicately and nonchalantly over her hand would’ve had most women throwing themselves at their feet and Mystique found herself repressing a smirk. Casually she let her fingers entwine with his as he spoke, sipping on her champagne.

“Magdalena it is then,” he gave her a smile and tilted his head, “never let it be said that I settle for going the easy route. Besides, you don’t sound like a Maggie; your voice lacks that certain keening, peppy quality of someone whose life revolves dog show grooming and making scrapbooks for their family.”

She let out a merry laugh as he dropped her hand, giving her head a small shake. “Oh, is that so?” she murmured with a bit of a smirk, cocking a perfectly arched brow. “What do I sound like then?” she queried casually. Throughout it all she kept her gaze intently focused on him, and to any outside observers it would appear as if she was immensely interested in what he had to say. In reality she was memorizing every little nuance of his actions and his speech, filing it away for later use.

The arrival of Warren and Ari interrupted the conversation but she didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, transitioning her attention seamlessly from Max to the two X-men. Their appearance didn’t phase her in the slightest. Mystique was, if nothing else, adaptable.

“Warren Worthington, this is Magdalena; we’ve known each other for simply ages… approximately five minutes, wouldn’t you say, my dear?” His blind gaze shifted to Magdalena, “but as they say, its quality, not quantity that matters.”

“Oh don’t sell yourself so short, Max,” she chided with a light click of her tongue, a teasing grin on her full lips. “I’m sure it’s been at least seven by now, perhaps even eight. Time flies if you’re having fun, isn’t that what they say?”

“Nice to meet you Magdalena” [Warren] said with a warm smile. “Five minutes? Has he offered to show you his private jet yet?”

She returned his shake gently yet firmly and curbed the urge to break his fingers in her grip without so much as a blink. “The pleasure is all mine, really,” she said genuinely, chuckling at his second comment. She cast a wry, teasing glance to Max. “No, he hasn’t. Not yet, at least,” she added playfully.

Mystique was so good at being other people that occasionally she found herself not even having to think about what she was saying; sometimes it was even easier for her to be someone else than herself. Maybe over the years she’d actually forgotten who she really was, but such deep, philosophical questions were of no concern to her. Why be yourself when you can be anyone else?

Deep brown eyes shifted to Ari as she complimented her dress, and Mystique gave her a smile. “Why thank you,” she said. “Yours is very pretty, too. I absolutely adore the color, it’s perfect for your skin tone and eye color.” Mystique, a fashionista? Who would’ve guessed?

She arched a brow at Ari’s comment about her and Warren only being friends, smiling somewhat. “Well, if I were you, I’d set about to changing that,” she advised with a teasing wink. “Before someone else snatches him up. Believe me, the women in this crowd can be vultures.”

"So are you a buyer? Or a contributor?"

Mystique cast a glance around at the artwork surrounding them before looking back to Ari. “Oh, I’m a buyer. I wish I was a contributor but sadly I have no such creative aptitude. I leave the art to the artists.”
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Max_Coleridge
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She let out a merry laugh as he dropped her hand, giving her head a small shake. “Oh, is that so?” she murmured with a bit of a smirk, cocking a perfectly arched brow. “What do I sound like then?” she queried casually.

Max replied with a smile that was slow to form and seemed genuine, rather than the quick, charming but plastic smile reserved for social banter.

Max Coleridge had grown up in the predator-infested waters of high society circles and this woman was something else. She was too beautiful, too exotic, too poised and without a doubt, he knew that meant she was dangerous.

“It’s hard to say,” he said, his smooth baritone voice suddenly flirtatious and warm. “Perhaps if I heard a bit more of it… Considering that I have monopolized your time and no one has come to complain,” he let the sentence linger, giving her room for a graceful exit, if she needed it. “Would I be correct in assuming that for the evening, you are unattached?” He tilted his head slightly to one side.

The banter with Worthington was a welcomed distraction, giving him time to collect his thoughts; it was the kind of conversation he didn’t have to put much thought into. They had been having the same friendly rivalries for years, never missing the opportunity to throw barbs at each other but not inflicting anything worse than a bruised ego, yet.

“Five minutes? Has he offered to show you his private jet yet?” Warren asked with light hearted smile.

“No, he hasn’t. Not yet, at least,” [Magdalena] added playfully.


Max gave a rueful shake of his head. “Not everyone employs to your methods, Worthington. I know you always say that you never change a winning formula, but it has been over a decade with the same pickup line,” he said with a cocky grin

As Magdalena and Ari talked, Max remained motionless as Warren leaned closer, making their conversation more private. The blond man turned to take in the crowd and setting, while Max made no move except to take another sip of his drink.

“Nice place you’ve got here.” [Warren] commented. “Shame the crowd is a little more appreciative of style over substance.”

Max nodded at the observation. “That’s what they tell me,” he shrugged. “But that’s the way these functions operate, first the socialites bring in the publicity and later, the artists and connoisseurs take notice.”

"Congratulations on the opening by the way. The work is amazing."

Max grinned and turned his black lenses toward her. “Thank you, Miss Boyd. I’m glad at least someone is appreciating it. I would love to see it first-hand,” he shrugged deprecatingly, “but I have other compensations.” His face directed toward Ari and then Magdalena, the ghost of a sly grin barely visible on his lips.
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Warren Worthington
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"Is that what I did?" she asked teasingly.

“That is exactly what you did.” Warren replied, smirking slightly at her. “And very impressively too. I’m quite scared.” He commented, nudging her arm slightly with his own. He knew he should probably restrain himself from bringing all this up, but now they were away from the Mansion, he felt a little more relaxed and the obstacles that stood in their way seemed to fall into the background

As they joined up with Max and Magdalena, Warren found his gaze moving back to Ari. He knew the month spent apart would be hard, of course and in some ways it was harder than he’d imagined but the fact he could still be around her and they were still able to chatting to each other like they used to made things in a little easier.

Even so he couldn’t help the little niggles at the back of his mind; what if she found someone else? Someone closer to her age? Someone who she didn’t have to wait for…Ari was young and from what she had said, little experience with relationships, could she really know that he was someone she wanted to be with?. Warren very rarely experienced uncertainty within relationships and it was definitely not a feeling he wanted to encourage.

“The pleasure is all mine, really,” she said genuinely, chuckling at his second comment. She cast a wry, teasing glance to Max. “No, he hasn’t. Not yet, at least,” she added playfully.

“Not everyone employs to your methods, Worthington. I know you always say that you never change a winning formula, but it has been over a decade with the same pickup line,” he said with a cocky grin

Warren laughed softly at Max’s comment. “I stand by that; it was certainly more effective than your tired old repertoire.” He replied with an amused smirk. Usually he would be competing with Max for the attention of the beautiful Magdalena, but his heart wasn’t in it tonight. Not only was he aware of Ari by his side, but Magdalena was one of those incredibly in control, predatory women that had as a younger man fascinated him, but now did nothing for him other than arouse a passing, superficial interest. She was playing the game, just like everyone else in this room, though he couldn’t quite figure out her end goal; gaining a rich husband probably. In fairness to the woman though, he tended to judge people at these events rather harshly he conceded.

“That’s what they tell me,” he shrugged. “But that’s the way these functions operate, first the socialites bring in the publicity and later, the artists and connoisseurs take notice.”

“Very true.” Warren replied, nodding, his eyes coming back to rest on the dark haired man he was talking to. They both knew how it worked, but it didn’t mean it was always easy to swallow and Warren had been finding it increasingly difficult for the past year or so to pander to all the socialites. He knew he was one himself and there were plenty of people ready to fawn over him, but especially since being back at the Mansion, he’d gained another perspective.

“And speaking of artists, I do have an ulterior motive in coming here tonight.” He confessed with a grin. “Ari is a fantastic artist and she’s looking to get her pieces into a gallery. I figured I’d get you two acquainted, organise a viewing of some of her work, see what your curators think. I promise you won’t be disappointed” he explained to Max, mentally crossing his fingers for Ari.
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Ari Boyd
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Ari gave a thankful smile towards Magdalena, “Thank you. I wasn’t sure how dressy it’d be…” She felt good at least, and it seemed Warren had appreciated her in something other than casual clothes.

She let out a good-natured chuckle at the woman’s warning, but inwardly she was resisting the urge to blatantly agree and scream that the women in the crowd better keep their hands to themselves. Truly the woman had unknowingly pressed right upon Ari’s biggest inner fear at the moment.

Since their interaction in the laundry room, she had hoped that Warren would continue to feel something for her, despite now being able to come together. His earlier words that evening, about how she’d managed to hook him, were still floating around dreamily in her head, alleviating the worry. Still though, the room was full of socialites, and it seemed that a prerequisite was that you had to be attractive. The idea that a woman could come from nowhere and steal him away was ever pressing.

Ari was glad for the change in conversation as Mystique answered that she was a buyer. “Well, there are definitely a lot of lovely pieces to choose from, at least,” she said with a slight smile. The Junior X-Man definitely felt a bit out of her league, seeing as how she probably could even afford the napkin rings, let alone any of the art.

The dark-haired girl smiled towards Max, thankful that Warren had already given her a heads up on his possible blindness. It was a tiny bit unnerving, being unable to tell if he was actually looking at her or really wasn’t able to. “Aye. I am enjoying it,” she said with a nod. Her dark eyebrow quirked up slightly, shining brown eyes looking towards him questionably. Was he flirting with her? Surely not. That little smirk was directed at the lovely woman beside him.

She straightened slightly as Warren forged ahead and got to the point of having brought her along. A light flush crept over her face at his praise, hoping to the high heavens that she wouldn’t disappoint him. Ari knew it was her turn to speak, and she laughed softly, “Well, I’ll try my best to not disappoint…” Brushing her red-tinted bangs aside, she nodded, “I paint and create sculptures from glass.”

Of course, her glass sculptures were created by the help of her mutation, but it took a different type of skill to control her abilities and make them look special. She was always nervous that people might negate her skill because she didn’t mold glass like other artists did.

“I’d be eternally grateful if you’d consider checking out some pieces,” she said with a slight smile. She was gripping her purse, her teeth catching at her bottom lip as she awaited the verdict. Ari wasn’t altogether sure how Max made his decisions on art, if he was truly blind. Warren had mentioned curators, so perhaps they would be the ones to choose. At the very least, her sculptures could be felt if needed. That had to account for something, right?
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Mystique
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“It’s hard to say,” [Max] said, his smooth baritone voice suddenly flirtatious and warm. “Perhaps if I heard a bit more of it… Considering that I have monopolized your time and no one has come to complain…Would I be correct in assuming that for the evening, you are unattached?”

The barest hint of a smile graced her lips and she shifted her gaze away from him for a few moments, casually finishing off her champagne with one last slip. “For the moment, yes,” she replied nonchalantly as she placed the empty flute on the tray of a passing waiter. Her reply was short, simple, yet also left quite an opening for him if he chose to take it which was exactly her intention. Mystique knew from experience that men were exactly like fishing…it’s all about getting them to take the bait and then reeling them in.

Warren was right in his assumption that she was playing a game, though the finish line did not include a ring and a veil, at least not for her, though for many of the other women in the room that was probably true. Her real intentions for being there that night weren’t odious in the strictest sense of the word, but she was definitely interested in something…darker than matrimony.

“Well, there are definitely a lot of lovely pieces to choose from, at least,” she said with a slight smile.

As Warren and Max conversed she turned her attention fully onto Ari for the time being, nodding in agreement to the young woman’s words. “There certainly are,” she said, casting a glance around the room. “I think tonight I’m just window shopping, though. I find the conversation much too distracting at the moment to make a good decision,” she added with a little grin.

When the talk turned to Ari’s art Mystique arched a brow, grinning cheekily. “Mija, you’ve been holding out on me!” she teased lightly. “Well, I don’t know about Max, but I definitely want to see your work,” she said, grinning slightly as she looked over to Max. “Though I don’t have a gallery to showcase it. I’m sure if we ask nice enough he’ll talk to his curators, now won’t you, Max?” This was punctuated with a gentle, good-natured nudge to his side with her elbow as she winked at Ari.
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Max_Coleridge
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Darkforce Manipulation, Teleportation
“For the moment, yes,” she replied nonchalantly as she placed the empty flute on the tray of a passing waiter.

Max nodded slowly once and renewed his grin. “In that case… Please, dine with me,” he said. It appeared that Magdalena wanted to dance with him; although this waltz wasn’t limited to the dance floor and had begun the moment she approached him. “It would be an enormous favor to me.” He smiled playfully in mock self-deprecation, “I’d never live it down if people knew I didn’t have a date for my own grand opening.”

He started to lift his hand vaguely in the direction he’d heard her voice coming from when the arrival of Warren Worthington, trailed by a raven haired date, jarred the dynamic of the situation. Behind Max, the two women, who’d been on his arms during his speech, discreetly withdrew, though they still lingered within earshot.

Max noticed that the sparring between himself and Warren was only a few shadow-boxing jabs and the reason soon became clear: the girl, Ari. The impression of a self-absorbed playboy was just that; in the span of lifting his glass and taking a drink, he’d analyzed the angles of the situation.

The inference that Miss Boyd was more than merely the friend she claimed to be was obvious – Warren hadn’t made a joke about it nor smirked… and he was the type who joked about everything. A moment later, Max’s suspicions were confirmed with the request to help her.

He grinned and made the appropriate sounds of interest while he fit this new piece of information into the puzzle. Warren was actually helping her. If he only wanted her happy, he could’ve paid a disreputable dealer to approach her and buy some of her art pieces for an unnamed client, Warren himself; the ruse wouldn’t last long, but then, neither would Warren’s interest in her. For the last four years, ever since the murder of Candy Southern, Warren’s companions had mostly been one-night stands, with only a few exceptions. Max didn’t have the personal habits of all of New York high society ready in his memory but he took special interest in his… friends.

He was on the verge of assuring Miss Boyd that he didn’t think she could ever disappoint, when the surprise of Magdalena’s elbow nudge caught him off-guard. He shifted and chuckled at the playful gesture, turning toward her to acknowledge the nudge with a grin. “You too, Magdalena?”

“It seems that I have no choice, Miss Boyd. For obvious reasons, I leave the acquisitions to the curators,” he paused and said with a crooked smile, “I am merely a connoisseur of art not a trained expert. But,” he lifted his hands slightly and opened his palms, “I have acquired a certain fondness for sculptures… I’ll make it a point to be there. If your pieces are even fractionally as delightful as you, I’m sure they’ll be welcomed here.”

The location of the Black Square in North Salem was no coincidence, the home base of the X-Men, but the arrival Warren Worthington on his doorstep was too sweet an opportunity to squander.

The small request on behalf of Miss Boyd was a personal favor to Warren; Max’s next gesture was for the X-Men and Warren would know that. When the conversation lulled again he turned his head casually to Warren, “I hear this grand opening was lured quite a few of the old crowd from Manhattan… except the Richards, of course, not with their current family troubles.” He studied Warren’s reaction through his black lenses, “with their making arrangements to send their son, Robert, away… to Somerset; it’s hardly surprising they stayed home.”

Just as over a century ago ‘in a family way’ was a euphemism for pregnant, so the march of time has brought others; in the upper echelons of New York society, the hushed mention of someone being sent to Somerset meant only one thing. Max could imagine the name sending a cold chill down Warren’s spine, he too had been sent to Somerset.
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