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Behind the Sea; [open]
Topic Started: Oct 25 2010, 05:02 AM (1,009 Views)
Toxin
Unregistered

Time of day: midday
Place in the timeline: October 17th


Keep a straight face. He just needed to keep a straight face as they went through his things. This kind of thing, bitching about unnecessary delays tended to cause more delays.

All his knives and such were separated from the rest of his belongings; the obnoxious amount of sewing supplies, fabric, and clothing were mostly ignored except for perhaps a look of disbelief. Luckily for them they'd taken his words at face value and wore gloves while going through the mess. What was giving them problems was the food he'd brought, more than anything the 'produce'... they seemed willing to ignore the packaged snacks though.

"They're pumpkins," Dustin said flatly. He didn't know if he'd be headed back to the surface world between now and Halloween, and he had something specific planned. Involving carving and/or mutilating pumpkins. And possibly using them for target practice if Roger was as entertained by the idea as he was. And baking the seeds. And possibly finding a way to splatter passerby with pumpkin bits without retribution.

"We have to clear produce," the man stated, tone brooking no argument. Dustin sighed and rocked back on his heels. It was barely past noon, and it already had been a pretty long day. He just wanted to get to the new place and make it semi-comfy so he could relax the rest of the day. Possibly check out the immediate area around the building he was going to be living in... at least when he was staying in Sanctuary. But mostly he wanted to just toss his things down and flop onto a mattress.

He could deal with more waiting though, if he had to. Even though he was Brotherhood, he was still... relatively new. He had no weight to throw around even if that would've gotten him anywhere, and it didn't seem that it would. However... he hoped they didn't make them wait too long. He doubted Roger would be pleased with being stuck in security for too long, and if it was wearing at Dustin's patience then he couldn't imagine it'd be any better for him.
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Manslaughter
Unregistered

Breeeeee.

Just a few feet away, Roger canted his chin back like a curious child and blinked up at the flickering red light over his head.

Giving an exasperated sigh and massaging his temples, the security guard clenched his jaw and held out the plastic tray yet again to the boyish assassin, the sparse items within clicking in metallic tones against the inside. "Sir, if you could just put all of your metal belongings in this we could finish this much faster." And it wasn't until the guard brusquely rattled the tray to adjust Roger's focus did the redheaded terrorist reluctantly accept the offered item.

Shuffling back towards the tables just before the metal detector, Roger began unloading his pockets and the almost impossible places he managed to hide things.

The guard, meanwhile, pressed a palm to his face and shook his head tiredly, turning to one of his peers that was going through Roger's duffel bag, surprisingly filled with all of the thin man's worldly belongings. "What've we got?" he inquired wearily, partially keeping one eye on Roger as he dumped a myriad of objects into the tray.

"Crayons, half a pack of colored pencils, some clothes, and two katanas wrapped in some brown paper and string. ...and look, fun size Snickers!" Roger's head snapped back over his shoulder at the mention of his candy stash stowed away in his luggage, staring down the guard handling his things until the bag was put from whence it came.

The two exchanged a mild glance, already half in disbelief that Roger was really a respected member of the Brotherhood at all, but vigilant of his presence nonetheless. After some repacking of Roger's bag, however, his luggage was put in the clear.

By this time, Roger wandered back over to the metal detector, carrying the tray that was now laden with various pieces of weaponry, perhaps some loose change, and what looked like a few metal Monopoly pieces. Relieved, the guard that had been attending him in the first place returned to his station. "Great, now if you'll just walk through the--"

"No." Roger cut him off abruptly, shaking his head sharply once.

"...excuse me?" the guard blinked in exasperation.

"Need another one."

"..what?"

"Need 'nother box."

The guard attempted to keep his jaw from going slack in surprise, confused as to how such a small man could hold so many items of destruction on his body. "I.. never mind.. just.. here you go." Without asking how Roger was able to accomplish this, he shoved another tray across the table, and the assassin trotted off happily with the empty device.
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Amelia Voght
Unregistered

The influx of mutants into Sanctuary was a moderately steady stream. It was definitely not to be compared to the river of immigrants to Ellis Island but it was impressive to Amelia Voght. She was glad to see that so many mutants existed and were free to come to Sanctuary where they could live as they chose. There were certain limitations thought. Just because they were free didn’t mean they had the run of the land for wanton violence. Sanctuary was to be a new utopia. They were to live in peace and steps had to be taken to enable and ensure that peace.

The incoming residents of Sanctuary were screened. For the most part they were allowed to bring in any items or belongings they desired. Naturally, weapons could be blocked or seized but that could be a moot point considering some mutants had the ability to level a city block with a sneeze. The role of an Acolyte was not to oversee these screenings but Amelia had dropped by the station port for some interaction and face time with the incoming citizenry. Amelia was an Acolyte, a trusted member of the Brotherhood chosen by Magneto. The Acolytes and the Brotherhood had a degree of status in Sanctuary but they were not the essential governing body. They were afforded certain liberties, however.

Amelia passed by offering a smile here and there to different incoming mutants and trying to make connections with the faces in the crowd. She wanted to see who was entering Sanctuary and possibly who could be causing trouble in the future. She saw two members of the Brotherhood in line to enter, their belongings were being processed. Dustin and Roger were entering the underwater city and ran into a little resistance but their position in the Brotherhood eased things along.

Amelia moved closer to the two young men. She glided calmly through the chamber confidence carrying her along. Both of them were unhinged but appeared devoted to the cause. That was a deadly combination. As much as Amelia hated to admit, that was exactly what they needed if the Brotherhood was going to prevail above a war of attrition. “Dustin. Roger. Welcome to Sanctuary,” Voght said with a small gesture. “Things are still underway and there is still much to do, but please make yourselves at home.”

Amelia smiled slightly. Yes. Home.
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Toxin
Unregistered

While Dustin continued to pay some attention to those sorting the belongings, just so that he'd know when it would be that he could go, most of his attention was on what was going on nearby. It didn't look like things were going badly. The expressions that were on some of the security guards faces would've been comical if... okay, it was comical. Was it too hard to believe that a member of the Brotherhood carried that much weaponry? Though even Toxin didn't have a clue where he managed to hide all of it.

"I believe that's all," the man that was processing Toxin's belongings said. The young man didn't show any signs of having heard him for a moment then visibly shook himself out of his daze.

"Oh. Really? Thanks..." he looked at the table covered in his things. How did he fit all that in those few bags? It couldn't possibly all fit in that amount of space. A gloved hand ran through his hair, leaving it a bit messy, before he approached the problem. It fit before, it would fit again. Everything would just need to be arranged properly.

"Sorry, this might take me a few minutes," he said. If they hadn't needed to go through every single article, whatever the hell they'd been looking for, they wouldn't have to wait for the tables to clear for so long. Despite his misgivings, he worked quickly although there were several things he just couldn't find a place for. A swath of fabric made an impromptu wrap around his shoulders. He still felt a little chilled from the crisp October air they'd left behind earlier, so... it wasn't too much.

Before she reached them, Amelia was sensed. Movement, scent, heat, processed and recognized. Dustin glanced back over his shoulder with a smile as she approached. A moment later what was left of his things were properly re-packed into the bags and he turned to her as she reached them.

The Acolyte gracefully and graciously welcomed him and Roger to Sanctuary. A work in progress perhaps but it had taken off and taken life of its own it seemed. Though that was a hasty impression as he'd barely glimpsed the edges. A little awkwardly, he smiled again. "Thank you Ma'am..." he replied politely, but with feeling. This place was real, they really had their own place. And it could be a home that Murderworld just couldn't be, mildly disturbing place that it was. A freakin' city under the sea. It wasn't that long ago that he wouldn't have believed that something like that could exist in his lifetime.
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Russian Winter
Unregistered

Mikhail had to admit that the Brotherhood or at least the mutants who ran the Sanctuary were an efficient group of people. It was less then two weeks from the time he had been originally contacted to his actual relocation to Sanctuary. The decision had been an easy one for him. A location where mutants worked together for the common good sounded vastly superior then his experiences in New York the city that prided itself on American dog eat dog capitalism.

Teleportation was the clever method of transportation used by Sanctuary to prevent anyone from finding out its actual location. It always made Mikhail nervous because he felt like it was putting one’s life into the hands of another with basically no clue as to what will happen. At the most basic level it made sense, use a method of transportation which only mutants could to create a safe haven for mutants. Still Mikhail could only see it as a temporary stop gap. Years of working in the intelligence community had given him hard proof that anyone could be bought. It was only a matter of time before someone got a small but powerful enough GPS to find this place or perhaps a mutant whose particular abilities let him reveal this location. They were trying to fill this city but he wondered how closely they were examining what they were filling it with. For that matter what did they know about him, there must have been some sort of background check. He had provided them with the requested documentation and of course told them what he thought they needed to know but how far beyond that had they looked?

Security was certainly tight; he was led from unmarked room to another unmarked room and searched thoroughly. They found everything he was carrying but he was not trying to hide anything. He wondered what they were interested in given that they gave back his pistol and all of his personal belongings. What he really cared about was the vodka which he had gotten at great personal expense given that it was the real thing not cheap American swill.

Perhaps they are looking for surveillance equipment...

A metal detector and x-ray machine later Mikhail was gathering up his green army surplus duffle and slinging it over his broad shoulder. All he had was an address in a place he had never been before. He briefly considered wandering around to see if he could find it himself but then thought better of it. He noticed a group of mutants conversing near the end of one of the security stations and he modified his path to interact with them.

There was a pair of them a man and a woman. The young man was slightly taller then average with brown hair and blue eyes. He seemed to be overly clothed in that nearly all of his exposed skin was covered. Although Mikhail could hardly call that odd since he himself was in a full length, fur, winter coat. The woman was older probably late 30’s or early 40’s. She held herself well and had a controlled refined attractiveness that was enhanced by her vibrant red hair. The pair waited on another young man who was still placing metal items from his person in the x-ray machine tray. He was skinny, gangly, and Mikhail could see the track marks on his arms. Kids probably a user. He idly wondered if they had found any drug paraphernalia when they searched the boys belongings.

“Excuse me,” Mikhail gently tapped the tall, gloved, brown haired male. “I am new here perhaps you know vhere dis location is?” Mikhail showed the business card sized scrap of paper that had the address for his assigned housing to everyone present. He was hoping this group unlike him was not new comers to the underwater mutant refuge.
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Manslaughter
Unregistered

Hefting two security trays laden with weapons and various trinkets, Roger reappeared at the metal detecting station, gazing curiously at a man that was also going through the security procedures. Roger was impressed by the man's substantial beard which appeared to be coated in a fine layer of frost. It was more fascinating than the tedious steps of this process as the security guard ushered him through the detector.

The guard audibly drew in his breath as Roger passed underneath, the alarm remaining silent and the light ticking to a positive green. Peering up at the light, Roger blinked and chewed on his lip. "Green for go?" he asked himself quietly, his vocabulary emitted as simple as a child's. The security sentry was way ahead of him, bringing the assassin his bag and his hooded sweatshirt as well as nudging the trays with weapons in his direction.

"Okay you're done, you can go now," the guard ushered, clearly relieved to have finished the security check with the redhead.

Roger began to tuck some of the smaller weapons into the folds of his sweatshirt after he had pulled it back over his head, but the guard was to have none of it. "Just.. just take the trays."

Looking cheery and pleased with himself, Roger left the station holding his trays with one arm and dragging his bag behind him with the other. He saw that Dustin was with Amelia, although he had known that the latter was present already by the pattern of her synapses. He hardly had a chance to approach before the bearded man made his presence known, tapping on Toxin's shoulder and asking him for some direction to his housing.

Hoping to divert attention, Roger rattled the trays in his arm a little. "Both mine now."
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Amelia Voght
Unregistered

Dustin had gotten all of his possessions returned from the security detail. He gathered them up and left the queue and was now one of the many citizens of Sanctuary. He met Amelia with a smile to reflect the one she offered. The snakelike mutant seemed genuinely happy to be there and appeared sincere. Like so many others, he was glad for the realization of all they had worked for. It wasn’t an entire world completely free from human subjugation but it was closer than many of the inhabitants had ever seen in their lifetime. Amelia was sure some of the citizens thought it would never happen in their children’s lifetimes.

“We have many responsibilities here,” Amelia said. “Absolon is a leader but given our positions in the war, we can be seen as role models for many here in Sanctuary. Just as in the world above, not everyone agrees with our agenda or methods but there are many who do. Their eyes are upon us and we must strive for excellence.”

Amelia and Dustin were approached by an older man with a full beard. He was also wearing furs and a full winter coat despite the comfortable temperature in the sally port. This man that spoke with a Russian accent was one of the new faces that Amelia was eager to encounter. “Welcome to Sanctuary, friend. We are free here. I am Amelia Voght. I can tell you firsthand how much hard work went into building all you see around you,” she said.

Roger had finally made his way through the checkpoint. The officials were in a hurry to get as many people through the gates as possible without sacrificing security. They simply allowed Manslaughter to take his weapons in the trays they were scanned in. Voght turned her head slightly to the young red head. He was a man but he had the mind and maturity of a young boy. His mind and body worked toward mayhem and murder as if designed for such a feat. Amelia had trained as a nurse and she had to wonder what young Roger Loomis would be like if he had been guided at a young age to use his neural mapping ability as a means to heal in some way. “Looks like you’ve already got some more things to fill your room, Roger.”
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Toxin
Unregistered

A nod, though he didn't know what to say to that. He was somewhat bemused to be considered part of the 'we' already, however he understood that he was officially part of the Brotherhood. So he contributed to their image, he would have to keep that in mind... not that there was much to be concerned about there in his case. However this brought something to his mind. Both what he had gone to college for, and what he'd discovered his talents had actually were. Not that he was entirely certain how to bring it up.

"I, uhm... have some qualifications that might be mildly useful outside of where my training lies, when I'm not.." he began, before trailing off upon noticing something in his peripheral vision. "Busy, I suppose," he finished, his train of thought broken. A large man was approaching them, that had just gone through the same process that he had just finished himself.

Another newcomer. And that was fine. Entirely fine. What was not fine was the hand that tapped his shoulder. Beside the chill, he simply did not like the contact. Although he had gotten better [and more polite] about rebuffing those that touched him without warning, he still had to stop himself from flinching away. The both of them were certainly bundled up enough to prevent contamination. Surely that was enough.

The large, white-bearded man had asked where a location was. Dustin peered at the paper. He hadn't been involved in anything here. The months he had been with the Brotherhood he had been entirely focused in his training. But summer was over and things were changing. Everything and everyone was slowly being transferred over to Sanctuary. So, earlier he'd asked for and received a basic map, merely because he knew how he was and how quickly he'd get lost without such a thing. Once his bags were lowered to the ground, the map was tugged out from the pocket of his jacket while the Acolyte spoke to the man. Held between his fingers, the map was displayed, the area pointed out with his spare hand.

However that was about the time that he noticed that Roger had joined them, rattling his trays full of, well, stuff. Mostly blades of course. Toxin would have likely noticed earlier if he hadn't been unsettled. "Oh hey there," he said, smiling again suddenly at the young man 'suddenly appearing' beside him. The redhead was good at that. "Yeah? Handy. You've got everything alright?" he asked, though he would be equally laden with his own belongings once he retrieved them from the floor. Rog looked pretty happy about something, whether it was the new possessions or just that they were finally through..
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Jeanette Lacroix
Unregistered

Ever since she had heard of Sanctuary, Jeanette had prepared for the day when she was permitted to become a resident. For one such as she, clearly branded as a mutant and feared wherever she was seen in public, the concept of a Atlantis-esque escape was seductive In her own life-time, and at a relatively young age at that, Jeanette and thousands of others like her were given the opportunity to start anew: to peel away that decrepit crust of society that they had been forced to occupy so that they might settle a new land, a new culture and a new people.

Jeanette smiled to herself in secret delight. The optimist see's the opportunity in every new difficulty, indeed!

A screeching metal detector shook some awareness into the iridescent mutant. She blinked away her surprise and watched as the young man in front of her struggled to relieve himself of the steel on his person the detectors were protesting.

Jeanette could sense where it was on him. That was no problem for her. But she had to admit, there was a perverse entertainment to be had observing his attempts at doing so. Watching with a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth, Jeanette's fun ended when Manslaughter finally passed through the detectors unmolested. After he had collected his things and moved on, Jeanette's turn for scrutiny had arrived. The security guard turned and leveled his gaze in her direction.

'Do you have anything to declare? Fruits, vegetables...' he asked, sliding a plastic tray forward expectantly.

'Absolutely nothing at all.' Jeanette answered softly, shuffling through her pockets and the inside of her jacket. Soon she produced a few slim rods of stainless steel and placed them gently inside the plastic tub.

The guard eyed the three items curiously. Eventually shrugging and motioning towards the metal detector, Jeanette passed through without a hitch.

Shouldering the duffel bag she'd brought with her, Jeanette started to tuck the pieces of metal back into her many pockets. Catching congregation out of the corner of her eye, the iridescent mutant looked in the direction of a small group. She had only been with the Brotherhood for a year so she wasn't intimately familiar with everyone yet, but she swore she had seen the woman amongst them before. Her mien pronounced her as a figure of authority and mastery...but over what, Jeanette couldn't quite tell.
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Russian Winter
Unregistered

Mikhail glanced sidelong at the boy as he finished walking through the metal detector. He could see that the plastic trays contained knives, weapons, and other odds and ends that most people would have classified as junk. He did not see any hypodermics not that that meant anything, needles were not that hard to obtain. The odd commentary by the boy seemed juvenile and it was difficult for Mikhail to tell if he was putting on an elaborate show or if there was something wrong with him. It was pretty obvious that the other two knew him from somewhere and their behavior reflected a certain understanding and patience. He was quickly coming to the conclusion that their friend was not a normal mentally adjusted individual. He decided to politely ignore the remarks about the plastic trays which the boy had now appropriated.

Upon tapping the shoulder of the dark haired mutant it was pretty clear that he was not happy. It took Mikhail a second to realize why. He does not like being touched? Mikhail figured it was because they had never met before and found himself wondering how some people could be so touchy about a little human contact. The older female greeted him and introduced herself.

“Welcome to Sanctuary, friend. We are free here. I am Amelia Voght. I can tell you firsthand how much hard work went into building all you see around you.” The red head welcomed Mikhail to Sanctuary in a somewhat formal tone. It led him to believe that she held a position of some authority. Her familiarity with the other two left him wondering if they were part of the same organization; the dark haired mutants mention of training made him suspect law enforcement. The young boy with the trays of knives did not fit that profile usually authorities preferred stable individuals. Perhaps he is a mutual acquaintance...

“I am happy to have been invited here.” Mikhail replied genuinely. “It is indeed feat of engineering. You help build?” He only asked because she had implied it. He wondered if her particular mutant abilities had been used to help construct this place. Mikhail’s attention snapped back to the overly clothed mutant in front of him when he began to get something from his bag.

“Ahh, good man!” Mikhail exclaimed upon the revealing of the map. He swung his arm up to give the map bearer a hearty clap on the back briefly forgetting the apparent dislike of this particular mutant for being touched. He nodded as his apartment complex was pointed out. “Vhere vould I be vithout my fellow comrades? I owe you one.” He immediately realized that he still did not know the names of most of the people present and that they did not know his.

“Vhere are my manners?” Mikhail exclaimed his breath forming a small white cloud which quickly dissipated. “I did not introduced myself!” He extended his frosty hand in greeting toward the various individuals gathered about. “I am Mikhail Federov from Belarus. Vhen I vas in Russia I vorked for glorious ‘Five Year Plan’ they called me ‘Russian Vinter’.” At the completion of the statement he stood up straighter and puffed up his chest a bit. He frowned as he recognized that this was a super hero team that they probably would not recognize. Not only was it in a different country that had been over 20 years ago and none of them really looked old enough, barring the red head, to remember that time period. In truth he was a little bit excited to be part of this new settlement and was expressing himself more then usual. “That vas quite a vhile ago,” he added, “I have been living in New York until now.” Another girl fresh through the metal detecting security archways had approached the group. Her purple hair and slight incandescence marked her as an obvious mutant. He made sure to extend his hand in greeting to her as well.
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Manslaughter
Unregistered

Episodes of Roger in high spirits were as scarce as hen's teeth, although his displays of emotion were inclined to be isolated in general. His brother and sister at arms were informed well enough to take this facade of a cheerful little boy with a grain of salt, his daily behavior as irregular as the shifting of the earthly tectonic plates. This was not to say his mood altered his ability of perception, and Roger was unquestionably wary of the woman passing through security behind him, although it probably had to do with the way her electrical signals crackled across her nerves.

Amelia was one of the few that reacted kindly to his presence apart from those closest comrades he could also call 'friends'. Despite the fact that Roger disliked the free-floating feeling her teleportation abilities instilled in him, he had a certain level of respect for her nonetheless. As she remarked on his newly acquired security trays, Roger looked them over, murmuring something to himself about having a place for his crayons.

It was the interaction of the frosted bearded man with Dustin that caught his complex attentions, however. He had been neutral to Mikhail initially, as he would to most people in general unless if they were interesting to him. The redhead's easygoing manner revised itself to a cold, rigid stance as Mikhail gave Dustin a hearty clap on the back, almost sending the toxin mutant sprawling to the floor. The security trays suddenly clattered loudly at Roger's feet, a blade in his hand at an instant, unnervingly threatened by Mikhail's gesture. The tip wavered in the man's direction in warning, held at bay in a defensive manner.

The commotion was enough to draw the attention of the rest of the secure area. An officer approached at full tilt, the same that had attended to Roger personally,"Is there a problem here?" his tone was brisk and uncompromising.
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Amelia Voght
Unregistered

Dustin was a little shocked or surprised by the sudden appearance of Russian Winter. He flinched slightly with the touch and then recovered quickly. When the newcomer had asked for the address Toxin was able to oblige. He set his bags down and pulled out a map from his pocket. He unfolded it quickly and then pointed to indicated the location of where Winter needed to go. They were quickly joined by Roger who had finished his inspection through the queue. He seemed rather pleased to be free of the line of incoming mutants. Amelia would have been glad as well. Dustin seemed equally glad to see his friend too.

Amelia gave a small glance around. There were so many new faces and each of them different. There were people who appeared to be normal humans while others were not so lucky to blend in. For example, there was a woman with alabaster skin that was glimmering with a pale blue iridescence. Voght turned back to their little group when Winter was speaking. “Did I help build Sanctuary?” Amelia asked, clarifying. “I helped in the planning stages and the transport of some individuals and equipment. I am a teleporter. Once most of the infrastructure was built, I came in with a few others to supervise inspections.

Amelia smiled as Russian Winter introduced himself finally. He gave a short back story of which he was obviously proud of. “It is a pleasure to meet you Mikhail. Perhaps we can have the treat of working together in the future,” she said.

The glowing woman with alabaster skin drew closer and Amelia realized that it was Aegis a relatively new member of the Brotherhood. The Acolyte had not personally been on a mission with the magnetokinetic before but her face, and the glow was recognizable. Jeanette hovered for a moment on the edge of the crowd. “I don’t believe there is a need to eavesdrop, miss. It would be hard to miss you,” Amelia said.
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Toxin
Unregistered

A hearty clap to the back caused Toxin to stumble forward, nearly falling flat on his face. He hissed quietly under his breath but quickly regained both his balance and his composure. The man was thanking him in a roundabout way, before going into rather detailed introductions. However, Dustin was somewhat distracted at the clatter of metal on the floor. Roger had dropped the trays and, with a knife in hand, had assumed a stance that meant serious business. Though it was defensive, not offensive. Not to worry about unless - Mikhail was it? - unless the older man pushed the issue.

While the toxic mutant could hardly claim to understand everything that his friend did, he tried. That was more than many could truthfully say when it came down to it. "Roger its fine," he said quietly, though he wasn't entirely certain that his own discomfort was the reason Roger had reacted as he had. It could have had something to do with what the man had been saying. It could have been anything honestly, but Dustin was pretty sure that it was his first instinct. If that was the case. Well. He'd have to think about that.

His eyes flickered over to the glowing woman that had been lingering at the side of their group. She was a face he knew from the Brotherhood, but not one he'd spoken to. He'd spent much of his time training or... well. Cooped up in his room. While he wasn't anti-social, he wasn't very social either. Or comfortable with new people for that matter. But Dustin's attention wasn't to stay on the BH unknown. One of the security guards were coming over, demanding whether there was a problem.

"No, there isn't. Is there?" he asked Roger and Mikhail, eyes locked on each of theirs for a moment. Maybe the two of them should head to their apartment. He wanted to get to know the Acolyte better, but there would be other times. They still needed to get unpacked, and maybe once Roger was more settled in he'd adjust to the mass of mutant-kind they were going to be dealing with. To others, he spoke as he knelt to return everything to the fallen trays. He didn't look up as he did so; they wouldn't see his face through his hair anyway. "I'm Dustin Reed. Toxin, if you'd prefer.."

"Perhaps Roger and I should head out." That was posed as something between a statement and a question. If either Amelia or Roger would rather they stay for now, he wouldn't object.
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Jeanette Lacroix
Unregistered

Barely any time had passed since Jeanette had finished tucking away her stainless steel rods, when a big, meaty, open paw charged into her field of vision. Visibly surprised, as she had not been expecting a personal welcome, the glowing mutant acted out of reflex and shook the hand Russian Winter had offered. At least the gloves Jeanette wore insulated her against the strange chill permeating from the burly mans frame.

However, right before she introduced herself, the tall woman the others had gathered around addressed her specifically.

“I don’t believe there is a need to eavesdrop, miss. It would be hard to miss you,”

At this, Jeanette, or Aegis as she was known to the Brotherhood, couldn't help but smile. Circumstances it seemed conspired to keep her in the presence of this group for just that little bit longer. This adherence quickly revealed itself as a hidden opportunity, for it clicked in that instant as to where Aegis had seen this woman before: she was Amelia Voght, one of Magneto's hand-chosen Acolytes. She was, in every sense of the word, her boss.

A sudden wave of self-consciousness rolled up Aegis' skin as her thoughts were cluttered by a hundred little doubts. She had never met an Acolyte in person before, let alone conversed, and the last thing she wanted to do was emit a worrisome first impression.

'My apologies. I wasn't aware that I was lingering, ma'm', Aegis started, her tone level and sincere. She respected authority, but she wasn't a brown-nose.

Once more however, drama cut short Aegis' attempt at conversation. Before she could continue, Manslaughter produced a knife and held it defensively against the large Russian gentleman. It seemed like a confrontation destined to end in bloodshed but thankfully Toxin stepped in to stay his friends impulsive behaviour.

Out of reflex, Aegis reverted to observation mode. She believed that was the end of it, but she didn't feel it was her place to respond to Toxin's announcement, and so she watched in alert silence.
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Russian Winter
Unregistered

The lavender haired female seemed surprised at Mikhail’s sudden introduction but shook his ice cold hand with her gloved digits. In a way she seemed slightly overwhelmed since she had yet to introduce herself in kind. Mikhail figured she just needed some encouragement.

“In Russia beautiful vomen have name. Perhaps dis is not true in Sanctuary?” He smiled lightly before he released her hand. Mikhail nodded when Amelia clarified his manner of speech and described her role in the formation of the world’s only free mutant state. Apparently she was a teleporter and one who knew Sanctuary’s actual location. This confirmed Mikhail’s suspicions that she was in fact an important individual. If she had that kind of information she was no lightweight and he eyed her with a new found respect. It was something he had to get used to being as old as he was, women doing things besides getting married and having children. It caused him to idly wonder if she had started a family aside her work for the mutant underground.

“I am sorry my English is not so good.” Mikhail shrugged, “like you say in America hard to teach old dog new trick.” He nodded and smiled when she mentioned working together. “It vould be pleasure, but I do not have job,” Mikhail raised one hand index finger extended, “so first I need to find vork. Maybe someone need person to vork in meat locker no?” He punctuated the statement with a laugh placing his hands on his stomach.

Mikhail was oblivious to the effects his interactions with Dustin were having on the track marked junkie. This changed when the security trays clattered to the floor and he saw a knife in the reckless mutant’s hand. Dustin reacted quickly and was already trying to placate his companion but Mikhail would have none of this coddling. The pair may have been friends but clearly one of them needed to develop some respect and etiquette.

“Vhat is your problem? Vee are talking and you draw knife!” Mikhail exclaimed raising his voice stepping forward toward the offending weapon. His hand became a fist with his index finger pointing toward the now armed red headed boy. “You vant to pick fight vith Mikhail?” He was more then a little incensed by this drug users behavior. He was fairly convinced the kid was high right now. Mikhail saw it as a plausible explanation for the jumpiness and odd conversation. One of the security guards had quickly approached the situation in an attempt to diffuse it. Mikhail put his arm up as the guard attempted to step between the two of them temporarily blocking him out.

“Nothing is wrong boy vas putting avay knife and apologizing no?” Mikhail had squared his shoulders and glared down at the young man before him eyes narrowed. Out of his peripheral vision he could see the security officer’s eyes start glowing a soft incandescent yellow. It would make sense that the guard is a mutant. Who in Sanctuary isn’t?

“I need the two of you to stand down now!” The guard repeated in a louder more authoritative tone then he used before. This time he attracted the attention of a couple of other security officers who began to approach the group.
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