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Love Looks Not With the Eyes, but With the Mind; Tag; Raven
Topic Started: Jul 21 2014, 03:42 AM (412 Views)
Julian McClellan
Unregistered

Date:July 5
Time:5pm
-------------------------

He'd been told many things lately.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder, advised some.

Its better that nothing happened, said others and a few even had told him that he was stupid for even going as far as he had. With all these things people had told him however, Julian had began to get a few thoughts of his own. They'd been varied in their nature. from unrealistically happy to crushingly depressive, but all revolved around a singular point: He felt like he was missing something. It wasn't like a massive hole in his chest, sucking the light out of him like a black hole or anything. No, this was smaller, a chip in the good doctor's mind and just large enough for it to occasionally pull itself to the front of his mind.

The pain that came with her absence wasn't in the fact that he was thinking about her, worrying about her whenever he had idle hands. It wasn't in the way he would wake up and wonder what she was doing or where she was going or even what she looked like now that he abilities had been gifted back to her. (Word spread rather quickly, it seemed.) It was when he was on his 5th cup of coffee of the morning and explaining to a private studies student how to go in and correct an aneurysm that the idea that he was no longer in her mind struck him, and it would ache for a while, a physical pain in his stomach. Which was stupid, the fact that he let it get to him was stupid, the way he still felt was… stupid. He was nothing in her shadow. Quiet, inexperienced and insignificant. A novelty perhaps, a feathered boy in too deep.

This did not stop his determination. It didn't squelch the fire in his chest that told him that his fool's errand was something more meaningful.

When she had told him she was coming back, he had felt that fire. In his chest at first, then spreading warmth in his veins, breath caught for a moment just at the thought that she wanted to see him once more. Oh what a childish reaction she teased out of him. Almost 40 and breathless at the idea that a woman wanted to see him. But Raven was no mere woman. Some would argue she was something evil, something dark, but he couldn't see that. He could see the weight that had made her cynical and cold at times, but he failed to see anything truly monstrous in Raven. Maybe it was true that love made one blind (if such a thing could be considered), but until she gave him a reason to believe to her to be a creature of darkness, Julian would continue to believe that she was a force of good in his life. He had suggested they go into Salem, away from the school and meet there. He had made a personal note to keep away from Harry's, where he had been… assaulted, as even after the months past, he found himself nervous around the area. Plus, he had no desire to be drinking right now.

As the world settled in for the evening, Julian sat at a table in a cafe, a of the coffee cup raised to the Scotsman's lips, waiting for him to take another sip. It was still scaldingly hot, and occasionally the sound of air being blown over the small hole in the lid could be heard as he waited. There were not many people there, and the atmosphere was warm without being overly cushy. They had agreed to meet there, around this time, and while part of him feared she would not sweep back into his life, he was still desperately optimistic, true to his nature. He had medicated himself into calmness with a couple white tabs, making sure he wouldn't be suffering from any of the sounds that assaulted his sensitive hearing.

Julian glanced around for the 7th time since he had sat down and dared to take another sip of coffee, hoping he would not end up with another mouthful of scalding beverage and waited for someone to approach him as Raven.
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Mystique
Unregistered

She didn't look overly different, at least she tended not to think so. But, well, as a migratory shapeshifter forced into one mold for the greater part of the year, she'd grown to quickly hate the carefully crafted imperfections of her previous mold. The too-square jaw, cheekbones made for cutting glass. The subtle but intentional wrinkles here and there that made a face into something mature and experienced. She'd had enough mature, enough experienced.

When her mutant gifts came surging back, stronger than ever thanks to a deal with the devil that she'd yet to make payment on, she felt young, wild, and free, and so her form reflected that. There was an edge to her brow, an arch to her features not unlike a feral cat whose buffer between adoration and anger was thinner than a hair. She looked constantly poised to strike out, somatically or otherwise.

Drop dead gorgeous youth, the kind you saw plastered all over album covers and magazines, strutting down runways and peppering instagram with snippets of a life they fool themselves into thinking others care about.

Mystique entered the Grindstone with a sort of superior air, her clothes reflecting the toxic youth she'd chosen to wear henceforth as a costume, something that would give something to underestimate by undervaluing the intelligence inside and mounting value only on her looks alone, an old trap she'd been using now for over hundred years.

The place was not her cup of tea, if one could pardon that phrase to describe a coffee shop. Just south of Hipster by way of Starbucks, she could tell it was going for something similar but different, perhaps in the post modernist definition of ironic. Her shirt held a red color like blood, the black silk screen on it emblazoned with military stencil reading "Magneto was right!" across a Guevara-esque image of the deposed mutant leader. She'd succumbed to the same irony she faulted this place for, but she wasn't here for the scenery or for the coffee, which she was sure, as American standards generally held, would be terrible.

"You really know how to impress a girl," she whispered in Julian McLellan's ear, forcing herself to her tip-toes to close the distance, this new frame much shorter and petite than the statuesque one she'd worn for the last ten years.

She nipped the bottom of his ear, too.

Was Julian a toy to her? She wasn't so sure. There was a twofold nature to her perceptions of him. Most people in that wretched school had treated her with distrust or even outright animosity, even though she'd been there to recover from injuries sustained trying to save their people.

It tainted her perceptions of the school, which she'd once viewed as a necessary evil,, a place for those youth who could not fight, or would not fight, to take solace, even if their heads were filled with fairy-tale nonsense aggrandizing impossible coexistence that, in her opinion, was less likely than a second season of Firefly.

But no, his kindness inspired in her a genuine kind of adoration, even if slight and playful moreso than loving affection. But at the same time, there was a predatory air about her infatuation. He was so rooted in Xavier idealogy despite what had been done to him, and she saw the strings that needed pulled. Coexistence was a fine goal but one could only scream peace while being shot in the gut for so long before the other side won out on basic scientific principle of dead equals quiet.

"I'm sure a danish and a double shot are all I need."

Her smile was wide and perfect, white teeth behind two perfectly curved lips; an artist couldn't have been so on point in carving a grin from marble. At the same time, years of reading people insured that it hardly seemed fake, but rather jovial and genuine, the wide-toothed happiness of innocent youth masking jaded cynicism and cutthroat ruthlessness being confronted with feelings of puppy love and familiarity.

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Julian McClellan
Unregistered

He hasn't realized it was her when she entered the building. Julian's eyes had fluttered over the woman only for a moment before he had returned to his drink. In some strange way, he had almost expected the sharp featured woman he had met not so long ago. It hadn't occurred to him in that moment that she would appear in any other shape, any other form. This woman however? She looked nothing of the Raven he knew. Not his Raven by any means, he couldn't begin to fool himself into believing any piece of her had been given to him, but the woman he had become familiar with.

So he was caught off guard when she approached him. The feeling passed the moment she purred in his ear, and his breath caught for a moment when she nipped at him and he closed his eyes, speaking a barely audible

"Hello."

It was Raven indeed; she inspired a unique, glowing feeling in him and in a way that would make a Dickinson proud, his heart fluttered as if it had wings of its own. He let it rest in his chest, filling him with ridiculous warmth. As it were, he felt feathers fluff under his clothes and had he not been strapped down, his initial shock would have been amplified by the appearance of his black and grey wings. If he looked shocked when he turned his gaze to her, it died in a second, to be replaced by his wide, boyish grin. All that mattered in that moment was that she had come to see him. Had she looked to him with distain, she would not have gotten any different of a reaction. She was wildly beautiful, absolute in her tragic youth. While he had found her older form incredibly attractive, he had gone in knowing she was a shapeshifter. It would of been foolish to grow attached to her looks, and it was not what he truly loved (appreciated?) about her. He pushed his sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows and fixed the collar of his shirt.

"Aye, bad coffee an' sub par lightin' work wonders fer' m'love life." He took a drink from his coffee and nodded at her. "Ye' look beautiful, an' I like yer' shirt." His smile turned wry, amused at the choice. If anyone thought anything strange of the pair, he didn't notice. His entire focus was on the wildcat of a girl he sat across from. When she spoke again he arched an eyebrow and shrugged a little, looking about the store.

"We c'n go somewhere else if yah'd like, I mean..." He trailed off for a moment before letting out a soft sigh. "It's so good ta' see yah' again, Raven."
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Mystique
Unregistered

His appraising eye did not go unnoticed, nor did his flustered response to her arrival, Raven, of course, was someone who had an unnaturally keen ability to read people, and though her practical exercise in such matters had perhaps rusted a bit, the return of her powers bolstered that ability a bit, and offered some compensation until she was ready to sharpen once more her centuries-honed skills.

"I'd rather be here than at that school." She said. The... reintroduction... to her son had not gone how she'd hoped. "I'll be leaving there, soon, going back to the big city for a time, of course you'll come visit, I'd hope." She shook her head a bit. "Too painful being so close to my children and yet so far from even getting friendship from them, when they go on defending six-clawed murderers and telepathic anger-management headcases. I have better luck with the saner, rational side of the Summers camp."

A lady in a burgundy apron came to their table and jotted down orders there, Raven's voice almost shifting in and of itself, her formality fading and moving to that of something, again, more youthful and with the times, the ettiquette of it all was gone, and as their orders were taken off to be filled, her queenly linguistic gate settled right back in.

"Too much hypocrisy in that institute, there's something in me that doesn't like dealing with that, and I'm sure just my being there is enough to elicit uneasy feelings, so I won't darken their doors anymore, I came to grab the few things I came with, say a few fond farewells, and to try to mend a few bridges, but that last one's not going to happen I suppose."

She was venting, something she would have never done a year ago. Spilling out her discontent was like exposing a nerve. It was showing one's hand, pointing out all of one's weak links, but here, in the now, she just didn't care.
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Julian McClellan
Unregistered

"S'why ah' thought tha' Salem would be bettah'." His smile widened a little when she mentioned him visiting her in the city. Of course he would. He had missed her so terribly. "Of carse' I will." When she mentioned how her relationship with Kurt was going, however, his bright look faltered. He, not having kids, couldn't imagine how much that might of hurt her. However, he did understand the second part.

Julian was certainly no fighter, and more than anything he believed more in Xavier's overall goal than some of the individual actions there. He was a firm believer in that all souls could be redeemed and the way that Logan or Scott reacted towards Raven made him uncomfortable, to say the least. They housed people who had done some truly terrible things in their lives, but had become better people. Why was it that they were so adamant about not allowing her the same sign of good faith? Alex seemed to be better at that from his limited familiarity of the man, and if that was going to help her, then all the better.

When the waitress came over, he simply asked for anther coffee refill before returning his attention to Raven. He knew that this was her opening up to him, even if just a little, and he wasn't about to make her feel as if he was uninterested. So he listened attentively, his features slightly knitted in concern for her. It hurt to know that the place he had found sanctuary in had shut her out.

"Ah'm glad yah've found a place in X-Factah, Raven." He smiled softly, mostly happy for her that she'd found a team, but also that she would be closer. "An' tis' a... shame tha' Scott acts th' way tha' he does." he offered a soft shrug. He didn't know what to tell her. That they were too judgmental? Not helpful. So he'd offer his ears and understanding and hope that it was enough for her.
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Mystique
Unregistered

"I don't want to think about Scott Summers or the X-Men anymore today. They could all vanish for all I care." She gave a shrug. She was one hundred percent done trying to please sycophantic mutants who were content to teach children that living peacefully under humanity was a valid alternative to being equal to them.

"It's a temporary place, at best." She said, scraping at the table with her fingernail. "It's only a matter of time before Alex and I diverge on what needs done. He's much more open to improvisation than his dork brother but, well, he's still very, well... himself. Besides, his brothers' fanclub will eventually reach his ear, I'm sure. The world's pitted against me."

She sank melodramatically back in her chair, letting out a long and baleful moaning sigh that attracted more than a few puzzled stares. Her head lolled to one side, eyes meeting those of an older man in a trilby eating half a danish with a crumpled copy of The Times in his free hand.

"Hormones." She said, winking.

The main gave a creased brow before sheepishly turning back to his paper.

Her eyes drifted then back to McLellan. "I'm slowly remembering just how much I hate people, Julian. It's quite the down feeling to be honest."

She was being a brat, she knew it, but to ask her if she cared would be folly. She felt entitled to a bit of unreasonability right now. She had money, she had places to go. She could stop all of this, retire, be safe for as long as she needed to be, or she could funnel that money into more of what she was so demonized for to begin with, but no, she kept trying to change things for the better. she wasn't in it for glory or praise, but to be so often met with outright contest and hate and distrust, it didn't do much for her resolve to seek peaceable means over the much more effective and much less merciful ones.
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Julian McClellan
Unregistered

Many a year ago, Julian had learned that sometimes it was best to not say anything and just listen. So for the time, as Raven shared her discontent, Julian simply sat and sipped his coffee, watching and listening to her. He wasn’t able to totally empathize with her situation, but he did feel bad. Not pity, but more concerned for the distrust pointed towards her. He agreed in the hypocrisy of the situation but he couldn’t harbor the distaste of the people who ran his new home. He was on the other side of the spectrum; Xavier’s had taken him in when he had lost nearly everything. He opened his mouth to speak when she sighed and winked at a man sitting near by, his words were lost and replaced by a wry grin for a moment before he took another sip out of his paper cup of lifeblood and looked at his hands.

“Then tis a good thing tha’ you left, aye?” He looked back to her, almost looking as sad as he suddenly felt. He wore his heart on his sleeve, so sue him. He found that transparency saved him a lot of trouble in the long run.”Maybe it’ll help yah out. Maybe it won’t. Worth th’ try anyways. Yah’ve got people in yer’ corner now.”

And if you need me, I’m here. But she didn’t need anyone. Anything. Raven seemed as self sufficient as they came, and he had a sinking feeling that he wouldn’t be allowed to get that close, to be a real, honest comfort. But he had to be okay with that, or else this (Whatever this might be) would not work. He would be, could be satisfied with anything Raven was okay with. It probably wasn’t the best way to approach a relationship, but he would respect the boundaries she had up, lest he scare her off like a skittish cat. So he wouldn’t push. He wouldn’t delve unless she invited him there. He finished off the coffee and set it on the table top, lapsing back into silence. He wasn’t being a good conversationalist at the moment, he knew, but he found himself at a distinct lack of words for a second.

“So yer’ with Alex; how’s the city? Loud and populous?”
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Mystique
Unregistered

"Aye." She gave him back to his question, a sarcastic, raspy return that mimicked his voice more than her own. It was bitter.

She read the discomfort in the subtle movements of his frame, the distaste with the trash-bagging of his benefactors at the school. Whether it was out of an urge to defend them that he didn't follow up on or out of agreement, who knew, she was a reader of faces and movements, not of minds. But that twinge of discomfort appeased her for the moment, if only because it meant she was provoking thought on the subject, which was more than she could say for a vast majority of the Xavier herd.

And they were a herd. In a pack, there was competition openly and constantly. Moving power structures. The weak were pulled down from power and the strongest rose to the top like cream on fresh milk. At that damnable school, mutant-kind had reached its philosophical epoch with Charles Xavier, and with Scott Summers and Hank McCoy and Warren Worthington and Jean Grey as his apostles there was only heresy to be found in contesting that bald sycophant's opinion.

He didn't want to make his own way in the world. He didn't want mutants to shine brighter, as was the entire point of their existence; he wanted them walking hand in hand with humanity. He equated equality with justice, and for that he'd always be deeply flawed.

"The city is the wretched hive it always is. Big enough for the world's largest concentration of psychopaths and terrorists to hide right under the noses of the world's largest security aggregate."

She wasn't even about to get started on the joke that was SHIELD.

"I must say, Julian, that sitting here in a cafe drinking ten dollar coffee with you is so mundane its endearing. I haven't had the inclination to feel so bourgeoisie in a very long time."

Her hand stretched across the table, resting on his. "You should come with me, to the city."

She was sowing. Instinct or horseplay, who knew, but she was putting seed to pasture.
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Julian McClellan
Unregistered

If she had expected or desired a reaction to her reply that sounded eerily familiar to him as himself, the only thing she got was the raise of one of his eyebrows. He could pick up her tone from a mile away; he wasn’t going to be pressing there. He couldn’t blame her, couldn’t condemn her thoughts on them, on the school. She had every right to feel however she pleased, and disagree to the philosophy there. He had no urge to defend them against her words, she was right about plenty.

He smiled a little at her description of the city. Sounded about right. Once upon a time, he’d simply sought out the best of the city. Or at least, the best money could buy, and heaven knew he’d taken pleasure in that. But that was certainly a lifetime ago, before things had fallen apart. All of it was perspective, he supposed. And Julian certainly had some new perspective on the world. Whether that was a good thing or not was yet to be seen. A huff of amusement came from him and he grinned at her.

“Well I’m glad I inspire such feelings in you. Marx would be proud.” He mused. He watched her move and when she put her hands on his, his blood ran hot again. He looked down at the wonder and fought off the urge to run his thumb over her delicate looking skin. She was terribly beautiful and he was terribly weak in her presence. Not that he minded. Not one bit. For a moment he was a little confused, a little shocked at what she said, and totally at a loss for words. Go with her? He couldn’t help but feel like he’d always been more of a novelty to her. Maybe a game for when she had nothing better to do. The idea of going off with her was exciting, it made him happy. He could look into a job at Horizon Labs… It could work. Was he willing to leave though? He had enjoyed New York, but he distinctly remembered going through bottles and bottles of pills. He was a mess of thoughts for a moment, but he recovered his cool (although that wasn’t probably the best word to describe him at any point) and looked back up to her.

“Are yah’ askin’ me tah’ leave th’ school?” He finally asked. It was a simple question with nothing but curiosity (and maybe a touch of hope) behind it.
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Mystique
Unregistered

Mystique turned her head, a sneaking grin infiltrating her features as she regarded his question, and then, matter of factly, responded.

"Of course I am. That place is toxic for free thought. Just as indoctrinating as the Brotherhood. Peaceful? Sure, but no less damning to the species. They serve their purposes and their hearts are in the right place, but they aren't the saviors or voices they vaunt themselves to be. Complacency, that's their name. They take in urchins and rejects from the human world, teach them forgiveness and how to live a normal, healthy, human life."

Her skin faded to blue, its smooth texture filtering out into something rough and ridged. Clothes withered away as tendrils of flesh revealed the reptilian strangeness that had, at one time, struck fear into so many hearts. Her eyes went from blue to that luminescent, burning, jack-o-lantern glow, the image of a skull faded into the scaling on her forehead, like a death's head moth's famous tattoo.Her hair was wild and red, wiry but thick. Not quite male, not quite female, she stood from the chair, and regarded the entirety of the coffee shop, some of whom hadn't noticed, some of whom had, and then she looked back to Julian.

"These people play at friendship. The world doesn't hate you or I, right now. But do you think any ounce of what the X-Men have done will matter to them when next the world grows dark? There is a bill that has been trying to worm its way through American Congress for years now that will turn our entire species into watch-dogged fodder for legal discrimination. This country sets the policy for the world. You're not loved. I'm not loved. Mutantkind is taken for granted, a weapon against calamity valued for its power but hated for its free will."

She looked around, her voice having raised louder and louder, until they had the entirety of the coffee shop staring at them.

"And I defy any of you to tell me you haven't seen a mutant around your loved ones and wondered 'what if they hurt us'. Haven't lived in fear that mutants would snuff you out while ignoring the homo sapiens who kill innocents in movie theaters or on the streets every day."

There was a silence, a man in a white shirt came out of the back, moving towards her, slowly, cautiously.

"Ma'am... sir... er... I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Her face looked his up and down, before its lips curled in a sneer and, in an instant, he was looking at himself.

"Clarity, Julian" Mystique said, looking to him. "It's all about clarity."

She turned then, and made her way out of the building, tossing her coffee cup haphazardly in a garbage bin on the way out. She hated the stuff anyways.

Outside her form was again different. Dark skin, natural haired. She selected sensible clothes and looked around, folding her arms.
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Julian McClellan
Unregistered

She did indeed have a flair for the dramatic. Julian’s mind, however was far away for the moment. He was suddenly consumed with ideas in his own head, only half listening to Raven’s angry (irritated?) words of how the school was settling. He would be lying if he was to say that her offer was not tempting. He got the bottom line of her words: As long as he stayed, there would be a distance between them, both figuratively and literally. He wanted nothing more than to be rid of that, to be close to her. On the other hand, however, he felt as if he owed the school something. They had taken him in without question when he had nearly lost everything in a country that suddenly had felt so foreign. It was only when Raven’s form shimmered into the deep blue of her actual looks that his total attention was drawn back to her.

She was like a snake -- not simply in the presence of scales and the pure androgyny of her looks. Beautiful to look at, but something was terrifyingly deadly about her. Raven looked like she was always ready to strike. She was a completely different animal than he was.

He glanced around at the various reactions of the New Salem patrons. Heaven knew this place wasn’t the most mutant-friendly place in the world. While he knew for a fact that Raven was a highly trained woman, something in him still flickered with the fear that someone was going to react violently. Was this really who he was becoming? Someone absolutely terrified of the reaction of people? Apparently so. When the waiter approached them, he could feel his usually steady hands shake slightly; his heart pounded against his ribcage like it was going to rip itself clear from his chest. The scotsman took a quiet, deep breath, trying to look as calm as he could. He was not going to have another panic spell. Especially not over something this trivial. No one had said a word against her. Hell, no one had even moved. He stared in awe when she shifted into the waiter flawlessly. What a beautiful gift she had. The waiter and Julian met eyes for a moment and the scotsman sat up straighter and steeled his gaze. It was enough to send him scurrying out of his way as Julian trailed behind Raven, absently fixing the collar of his jacket.

She lacked the inherent fear he possessed of showing his mutation to the world. Did that make him a coward, or self-prevalent? He didn’t have an answer for himself. Maybe she was right.

But in his heart, he didn’t believe it. He felt that the school’s cause was a rightful one. Not that he was a fighter of any causes, of course. He was a doctor, a man of healing, not a warrior. The only cause that he would ever put before everything else was to help the patient in front of him. That was how it had always been, ever since he had been a boy. His definition of helping people wasn’t raging war or protecting the larger groups. He’d always been more… grassroots. Perhaps that was what frustrated her about him. Julian could have a quiet, honest, respect for what she did, but that was about it. Wow, wait, that made him sound useless. If th’ boot fits, mate…

“Ah’ didn’t know we whar’ goin’ fer’ coffee an’ a show.” He mused, forcing his previous panic down under the proverbial calm water of his emotions. Maybe it would drown and he’d never have to worry about it again. Something told her she might not appreciate his snark at the moment, but to hell with it. He was doing his best not to have a repeat of his… adventure with Daniel. His voice got quieter and he looked at his feet. “Tha’s one beautiful gift yah’ve got there, tho’. Nevar’ seen anythin’ like it.”
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Mystique
Unregistered

"Is it really beautiful, Julian, when it costs me my seat in a cafe of all places? Three years ago that little display would have had Cameron Hodges agents crawling all over. The only reason it doesn't do that now is because Magneto crushed his mutant prison and Magneto's son took his head off. Think about that. For all the progress your fellows say 'we've' made since then, how much of it was the result of preaching peace and love and how much of it was made through the removal of wicked men forcibly from their stolen seats of power?

Her skin lost its scaly texture, turning silky blue again. Her eyes bloomed into that orange yellow luster again and the clothes on her were something else, a long white dress, slit at the sides, sleeveless, cut high on her neck. Skulls bloomed around her waist, a warning more than a fashion statement.

"How many mutants were excommunicated by that bastard pope? Do you think preaching love and tolerance at him would have made him change his stance? No, a bullet in his brain ensured that the next in line didn't make the same mistake or continue on his bigoted path."

She shook her head. "Do you think its respect that keeps SHIELD's greedier elements out of that School? That keeps them away from Mutant Town? No, its the knowledge that they're too powerful to take on right now. SHIELD saw the mutant community lash back violently during the Purifiers. They saw the ease with which organized mutants absolutely obliterated the Purifiers outside your burning school. How easily mutant retaliation disassembled them at their strongest headquarters. They saw the fire with which they reacted when SHIELD tried to lock down District X in New York. They don't respect you, they fear you. And the second they find a way around that fear, you can best believe that they will try to use it. Being a human apologist is nothing but a one way ticket to a bleak future."

She shook her head. "I'll play by the white hat ruleset, Julian, but not forever. It's become incredibly obvious to me that I've earned my lot in life, and I will outlive every single one of my detractors, so if they're so intent on believing me to be a cold and irredeemable killer in light of all the other good I've worked towards since I-don't-know, then they can be. I'll be the one saying told you so, not them."
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Julian McClellan
Unregistered

"Yes, it is." The sharp snap to his voice caught even himself a little by surprise. He was not the kind of man to get snappy. Especially around her. The clouded look of anger that had started to creep on him died, and the scotsman sighed deeply, letting the weight of what she was saying rest on his shoulders. This all troubled him deeply. Between her personal frustrations and the fact that she was speaking to him as if he was the one waving the god damn flag up over his head, he was conflicted on how to respond to her. Like anything he said was going to placate her. It was frustrating, feeling like Raven saw him as someone on the outside. An' she'll keep feelin' like tha' unless yah' leave. He looked over to her once again when he noticed the changes to her form. Gah, he was a coward. A bloody coward, hiding behind the comfort of other people.

Well at least he had an answer for himself.

He sighed again and ran a hand over his slightly scruffy features. Part of him wondered what she wanted to accomplish, if this was all part of something bigger, but the questions he had for her would never break the plane of his mind. There was just... no point in it. How horribly pessimistic for him. He knew her points, but he had always believed in understanding. He understood why, but couldn't find roots there for himself.

If he used violence against people who had hurt him, then he was exactly what they had feared him to be, or worse, the exact same as them. He was one to take the cruelty and be better because of it. Finally Julian stopped walking, feet rooted into the pavement as he looked at her, unsure of what to do. He was horribly tongue-tied, infatuated, conflicted. How many people had stood in his shoes before; running after this woman with questions stuck in their throat and something dangerously close to love in their chest?

"I'm not undar' any delusion tha' yah' are, Raven." His gaze was soft, pushing away any of the irritation or frustration he had felt perviously at the people who were afraid of them. He found calmness and clung to it in the absence of joy. It was something he was good at, something that made him good in his field. "An' if anyone is ta' tell me so, I'd rathar' it be yah', any day." He pushed a hand through his hair and took a deep breath, letting his chest fill until the tightness of his harness was uncomfortable.

"As fer' goin' ta' New York, I'd need ta' look intah' a job an' apartment." He mused, switching his focus in a heartbeat and resuming walking along with her down the street, doing his best to ignore everything in the whole world save for her. Raven was all that really mattered in this moment, anyways. More than his comfort, more than his personal beliefs. Just being with her.
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Mystique
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"An apartment?" She asked, turning back to him, smiling as her head tilted to one side. "How adorable. Julian, I've been alive for over two hundred years and for most of that I've never had to want for money. I've three apartments in New York alone, and you're welcome to any of them."

She had far more really, but there was the saying about cards in one's sleeve.

"You're too obsessed with planning. You're a mutant. You've mutant friends. The limits that haunt humanity don't haunt you. You need to realize that."

She took a step towards him. "You can do, with a thought, what it took baseline humanity hundreds of years, tons of wood and metal and artifice to do. And they hate you for that."

She wrapped an arm around him, running a hand along his back. "What do you care if those are seen? They don't hate your wings Julian, they covet them. You should stop hiding them, and fly them in the faces of those who will never be on your level, physically or otherwise."

She looked up into his eyes, the gravity of her expression lifting into something between mischief and confidence. "Live a little Julian. Make this an actual date. Sweep me up in those arms, take that coat off, or if you can't..."

She stepped backwards, and her form shifted, Her feet flaired out, toes replaced by fewer claws. Muscle tissue adapted from other sources, shifting as per her own mutation and when it was done, Raven was left with a large set of leathery, batlike wings.

"Maybe I'll fly south and find someone who can."
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