WELCOME TO NEXUS.

[XxMagneto]

Yet again he found himself walking the streets of New York City, associating himself with the local rabble. How far he'd fallen from grace. A mighty leader to a common peasant seeking a foothold that should rightfully be his. Those who suspected Erik would be more angry at his predicament were simply wrong. Just because he was once the most feared terrorist in the world didn't mean he never rose from humbled beginnings. Finding himself competing for a title of Brotherhood leader (that again should rightfully be his) was more of an annoyance than anything. But it was nothing that wouldn't come in due time; Erik was sure of it. Mystique was destined to fail. He'd make it so.

Ignoring the scents of passing bakeries and cordially weaving out of foot traffic, Erik continued onward into Little Italy as pavement turned to cobblestone and hotdog stands turned into portable coffee shops. There was one shop he was more than accustomed to visiting. Specialized tailors were hard to come by these days, especially those with the expertise and experience that dated to years past. Wearing only a t-shirt and jeans, he should contemplate buying other clothes, but for now, his mind was on one shop in particular and nothing else would do. Once he reached the store, he breathed in the scent of familiarity, and smiled.

The familiar tiny bell ringing over head as he opened the door caused a short and stubby man to take a step into view from the back of the room. Thick glasses magnified the man's eyes to an absurd degree, but Erik smiled anyways as the tailor saw him and spread out his arms in an Italian gesture of acceptance. The man spoke his last name--not his real one--and scurried to shake Erik's hands. Erik smiled back. It had truly been awhile since he visited the tailor, the best one in the city by Lensherr's preference. The tailor's age and beginnings were a natural fit to one of the city's most hidden gems compared to the rest of the city's layer of filth.

"A new suit, black and bold, form fitting but not constricting."

The tailor oohed his lips, a spark shining from his eyes. He was a man who didn't ask questions; Erik liked that about him. With a curl of his hand, Magneto followed the tailor to the end of the small, cinnamon-smelling shop as he stood on a circular box that lifted him into the air by a foot. The tailor unwound the measuring tape from around his neck and scooted a step stool near Erik, immediately asking him to stretch his arms out from his sides and to loosely spread his legs.

----------

Erik decided to wait for the man to finish tailoring a suitable suit the tailor already had in his shop. He truly had nothing else to do, in truth, not now at any rate. Sitting in a cozy sitting area with one leg crossed over the other and magazine in hand, he quietly flipped the pages, one by one, passing the time with frivolous celebrity news and updating himself with the more current happenings of the world.

This post has been edited by XxMagneto on Aug 18 2012, 11:20 PM

[~*Belle*~]

Niko felt that this was a good, yet bad idea.

Honestly, he had wanted more time to think things out after spotting the infamous Master of Magnetism, but no.... Francesca had immediately hopped on the phone. Not to call her grandfather like he thought she was. She also wasn't calling the base leader either. No, no, that would make too much sense. Francesca had decided to skip all levels of authority and go straight to the top. Niko hadn't even known that Francesca had their matriarch's cell phone number. Probably stole it from her grandfather. Color him surprised and horrified - stoically of course - when her hears the dulcet tones of their matriarch on the line. He bet the woman was as surprised as him, but you couldn't hear that in her tone. She sounded irritated actually.

Naturally, Francesca started talking at a mile a minute. And with no preamble or order or protocols used, she blabs out that she spotted Magneto in the city. Niko almost frowned at the tactless report. Almost. He need not correct the girl though, agitated alto echoed on the line, telling Francesca to kindly shut up and calm down. Francesca's speech was hard to follow at normal pace when she was 'calm'. Having the girl so hyped up did nothing to help. Sighing to himself, Niko snatched the phone away. Since Francesca had already delivered the punch line, Niko simply repeated it concisely. They had spotted Magneto. Bella Donna's disbelief was understandable. He had essentially stated that they had spotted a dead man walking.

Niko politely repeated their findings, assuring their feisty matriarch that this was no mistake. They had cautiously followed the man as Niko's insistence that they be absolutely sure before raising the alarm. Niko's plan had been simple. Confirm the sighting and then report back to base. This was not a sighting to be taken lightly. Magneto was...kind of a big deal. Internationally known and wanted 'terrorist' was his governmental categorization. But what does that have to do with the Assassins' Guild? Oh, like the Guilds don't take note of this? The actions of other parties does have its effects you know. Let's look at a hypothetical situation.

Two competing facilities with competing processes/products/whatever. Let's say the hypothetical item is detrimental to mutants. Magneto finds out, but he only knows of Facility/Company A. Magneto and his Brotherhood raze Facility A to the ground. Alright, now Owner A is on the financial rocks, stock plummeting,life in ruins. Owner A is obviously quite angry and Owner B finds the situation just hilarious from the top. Let's say Owner A thinks Owner B arranged this. He either put the company in Magneto's target sights or something similar. Owner A puts a hit out on Owner B. Now the Guilds get involved. On the one hand, the contract is technically not valid because they aren't really taking out the people responsible. On the other hand, it was likely just a matter of time anyway. On the third hand, the Guilds are filled with mutants and are happy to execute anyone putting out something detrimental to mutants. Now Owner B dies. Then Bella Donna makes an executive decision - Owner A dies too. Oh, and so do the brain trusts behind the product/process.

Riddle me this - would Owner A or Owner B have been executed if Magneto hadn't targeted one or the other?

There are other pathways, but you'd really be quite surprised at the ripple effect that someone like Magneto could have. Or the X-Men for that matter, but shhhhh..don't tell them that. Wouldn't they be horrified to know that they feed the death machine too? But back to Niko. He wasn't sure how he should feel about the silence on the other end. He wasn't really sure what he had been expecting Bella Donna to say, but the lack of talk was..worrying. It was hard to gauge what the woman would do. Take the very fact that he was in New York, not on business or assignment, but living here. They had a base...not in New Orleans. It'd never been done. Not anywhere or by any Guild. You had the Guild in its city. Maybe a little spread out depending on the territory size, but this? Bella Donna had spread their Guild all over the country. Rumor had it she wasn't done yet. Niko bit the bullet and asked for orders for the blonde Cajun most surely had something in mind.

"Actually, I have an idea. Got a lil' somet'in' I want y' t'do - you'll need t'keep Francesca fo' dis one." Insert grimace, though he was sure his matriarch was smirking on the other end of the line. "After all, a man of Magneto's stature should be welcomed t' New York properly, not left t'wander non?"

Niko felt an inkling of worry. "What..are you suggesting?" And boy was he ever sorry he asked. Bella Donna had an idea alright. Bella Donna wanted an audience with the Master of Magnetism and he was supposed to get it for her. Niko stared at the phone like it was misreporting information. Sighing internally, Niko listened to the rest of the instructions. "Understood." The response was the dial tone. Niko calmly relayed their new orders to a very not calm Francesca. How the heck was he supposed to take this woman and reason with Magneto? So Niko improvised. Francesca would hang back in case things went..poorly. While he approached Magneto casually, she was to make the calls. Call the grandfather - she'd do so anyway - and call the base leader. They needed to reassign their casing task to someone else and acknowledge the new task. From there, other bases would need to be alerted. Also, other short-notice arrangements needed to be made on behalf of this new assignment.

The landscape was changing again.

----------

Niko did not approach Erik as soon as he walked in. Horrible idea and not particularly in accordance with his instructions. The tall dark-haired man dressed in business casual strode right by the man seated in the waiting area. If not for his inherent stoicism, Niko might have stopped and stared at the sight of the Master of Magnetism...reading a magazine. Minding his business like his return was no big deal. There was a kindly man in the back, diligently at work. Niko quickly expressed that he was not here for a suit. He was here to pay for that one, a slender digit pointing to the work in progress. The man expressed that this belonged to a customer up front. Niko, in return, expressed that he knew that and was sent to pay the bill. When he was done, the man was free to tell Magneto that the bill was paid and the suit was his to take, along with anything else he wanted in addition.

An owlish look blended with a healthy dose of suspicion was not surprising. Niko gave an approximation of a smile. He said the man was also free to tell Magneto who had paid for it.

"I'll be up front waiting." Waiting and thanking God that enhanced hearing was not one of Magneto's abilities. At the last minute, Niko opted to have the man take his measurements, go through the motions of getting a suit. It'd look weird to sit in the waiting room and not be waiting on anything. Niko then walked back up front, congratulating himself on the excellent idea of keeping Francesca involved per instructions, but out of the way. The broad-shouldered Britain-born mutant sat down across from Magneto. He idly picked up a magazine and settled in. While he was reading, he could think about what the heck he was going to do when the tailor relayed the circumstances of his bill.

This post has been edited by ~*Belle*~ on Aug 19 2012, 02:12 PM

[XxMagneto]

Erik ignored any customers that stepped their way into the old-timey tailor, flipping page after page of anything riveting to occupy himself with. The scents and cozy atmosphere of the shop had reminded him a bit of home, before his family was forced to flee. The hard working fingers that were coated in calluses, providing results only trained fingers could provide, reminded him so much of his father's various creations. He tossed the magazine to the side and picked up another one, curious--if only remotely--if his "death" would have made the cover of Time. Arrogant, perhaps, but no reason not to be curious.

Time passed and the short Italian man reached the front desk, using his thick fingers to strike the steampunk-like cash register. The tailor waved him to the desk. Erik tossed his magazine aside, stood up, and amused himself how he half expected an ancient receipt machine to be beside the register. Walking beyond the register and into the fitting room, Erik slipped on the newly tailored suit and admired himself.

----

Erik stood patiently as the tailor did some last minute fixes and approached the register once more. He was wearing the suit, his jeans now in a bag provided by the tailor emblazoned with the Italian's logo. Before Erik emerged, the tailor went about cleaning up and Erik had gone into the restroom, slicking back his hair. He emerged far more regal than when he arrived. He finally felt himself while leaving his blazer open for a more civilian flare. This was the true Magneto showcasing his confidence with his stride and stance while oozing charm with his flickering of expressions.

As he awaited for the amount it would cost him to leave with the suit, Erik raised one silver-haired eyebrow as the tailor announced his suit had already been paid for. Erik inquired who it was and the short man pointed to the man sitting in the waiting area. Erik took his time looking at the younger man, eyes studying the contours of his attire, posture, and sense of ease. What reason did he have to pay for Lensherr's suit? Erik believed there had to be a reason, purely because benevolence was such a rarity these days.

"A rare sight to see one so young paying for an old man's attire," Erik said. He was downplaying himself, of course, pulling out the age card purely to look less threatening. Given his physique, he doubted little anyone would fall for it, but words could do amazing things. "You're best spending your money on those less fortunate. Though your gesture," smiling with his eyes, "is very appreciated." Erik had pulled out a few bills of his own, stuck together by a simply metallic money clip. He unslipped the clip, allowed it to nestle in his palm, and began flipping the bills.

"Here then, this is yours." He extended his hand with the money in his grasp, waiting and studying for the man to take the cash. All the while his other hand pocketed the remaining bills, but not the clip itself. It remained glued to his palm, ready for any immediate use.

[~*Belle*~]

Niko was actually semi-interested in the article of the Time magazine he was reading. Any article on government interested him. He liked to read them and compare or attach it to some theory from their matriarch. Not that she taught classes or sent out lengthy written item. Sometimes, the blonde Cajun went out to the bases. Most said it was to check the leash length, and they were probably right. Of course, it was well within the woman's rights to see whether she had granted too much independence or not enough. To see if she'd put the right people in charge or if it was time to change up the ranks. And during these visits, sometimes, you could catch her in a mood conducive to educating. It was occasionally possible to sit with the woman and talk of these things. Hard to say if she enjoyed it or not, but he liked to ask. It was a good way of discovering her thought processes, a way to try and predict her motives when she did things.

You know, like tell her subordinates to arrange for Magneto himself to go to New Orleans. Niko considered suggesting that she come up here and save them all some potential grief, but doubted the woman would. Make no mistake, the Queen of Assassins had her pride too. She would not come to New York if she didn't have to do so. Niko had not been able to approximate how badly the woman wanted this, how crucial it may or may not be to whatever motive she had. Or didn't have. Honestly, Niko believed the blue-eyed assassin did things just because she could at times.

Becoming quite aware of the eyes that had fallen upon him, Niko really hoped this was not a case of Bella Donna doing something - via ordering someone else - just because she could. Or, worse for him, to prove a point. Footsteps signaled approach. Niko just turned the page, not looking up until Magneto was close enough to be noted by any simpleton. Well, at least he didn't appear suspicious in too negative a fashion. He was ever so grateful for his naturally no-reaction persona.

"A rare sight to see one so young paying for an old man's attire," the older man said casually.

Niko raised one eyebrow just a little. "You are many things sir, but 'old' is not one that comes to mind." Older than him? Sure. But a large portion of the Guild was and once you got to New Orleans and those that had tangoed with the Dawn of the Elixir era... Well, we'll say that Niko could introduce Erik to people far older than he that looked to be of comparable age.

Or younger.

He'd take the ploy for what it was though. Not being threatened outright. It made for a non-hostile environment. The man wasn't plotting his death just yet, but with all this metal..Niko didn't doubt the man wasn't ready for anything...inconvenient. "You're best spending your money on those less fortunate. Though your gesture," -- "is very appreciated." The man began pulling bills from a money clip, but Niko's eyes were following the clip more than the cash. That is, up until said cash was extended to him. Niko closed his magazine with a shake of the head. No dice as Niko's hands folded neatly on his lap and he went for a polite smile. He wondered if Bella Donna was amused by having Niko play a glorified personal assistant. Probably.

"You are too gracious, but my employer would be most aggrieved to have money returned. I must insist that you keep your money for more important things."[/i] You know, like a trip to New Orleans. Though they'd likely be paying for that too if he agreed to go. [b]"A man of your stature should not have to trifle with such mundane tasks as paying for clothing."

Niko was trying to mentally work out when would be a good time to advise Magneto that he was consorting with assassins. It was hard to tell. Niko didn't want to just throw it out there. There had to be some tact, or the man might take it as a threat. You don't tell someone 'Oh I'm an assassin' and expect them to take that in stride. Maybe he'd think someone had found out that the Master of Magnetism wasn't dead after all and had sent assassins to 'correct' that 'error'. Buying the suit could be some sort of trick or ploy. It wasn't, at least not one to try and kill the man. Niko wouldn't have come anywhere near the silver-haired mutant if that had been the case. Horrible tactic. Closed spaces were not your friend with this man, especially not when metal was every damn where at the location.

Niko glanced around at the other wares. "Is the suit all you intended to purchase, or was there more you wanted?" Ah, he'd forgotten to ask how much he was authorized to spend.. Oh well, if it got her Magneto, Niko supposed Bella Donna would be forgiving. Or not, just to spite me.

[XxMagneto]

Erik let the man's first sentence linger without a response, carefully analyzing the meaning behind such. Did he not look old? His physique wasn't as... dilapidated... as most his age, but surely his face, his hair, even his eyes played off he was in fact an old man hidden in the body of one who didn't want to be old. Perhaps Erik was reading too much into it and the man was simply providing a compliment. Nonetheless, the cash still traveled from his hand, flipping each individual bill in counting. And then the man did something Erik considered odd.

Niko didn't stand.

Erik was used to seeing people rise when he entered the room when most realized who he was. They stood purely out of respect, or fear, but still they stood, acknowledging his presence, letting him know they were listening. Niko merely closed the magazine, shook his head, and folded his hands in his lap, even when the money was still extended toward him. He didn't stand in thanks--he didn't even greet himself as were the typical social protocols. As the man's words reached Erik's ears as to why he dismissed the cash, Erik frowned, took back his money, narrowed his eyes on the man, and erected his posture.

He was looking down at the man with a slight tilt of his head upwards, face stoic with lips pursued.

"Is the suit all you intended to purchase, or was there more you wanted?"

Eyes cut to the shorter, diminutive man. "I'd like to speak to this man alone." The tailor opened his mouth to speak, but Erik's eyes squinted, intimidating the shorter man to scurry away from the counter and further away from earshot. Magneto turned his eyes back toward the sitting individual, clutching his hands behind his back. Too gracious, aggrieved, stature, mundane, these were words that came from an educated man. He payed for his suit and now offered to pay for anything he wished?

Erik's mind flashed to the government. No, they wouldn't hire someone who so blatantly made it known they were employed to accomadate him. Astra? No, she wouldn't dare. The X-Men? Rogue may have told someone he was alive, but even then the X-Men wouldn't bother unless he made himself a threat. Mystique, then? Perhaps this was one of her lackeys watching him. Would she hire someone who would be so bold?

"State your goal and your employer. You've offended me enough thinking I can be bribed."

[~*Belle*~]

Suddenly, or it felt sudden to him, Magneto grew quite annoyed with him. Niko didn't know what he'd done or said to so irritate the man, perhaps the lack of straight answers, but the air was now..quite tense. The other man was frowning at him, displeased, and asked the owner to make himself scarce. Oh, did this mean he should be concerned for his life? Magneto's powers didn't always play well with discrete deaths. Maybe he didn't think the owner would be able to keep his trap shut about it. Magneto's back and there's a dead body in my store just minutes after the man was fitted with a suit. Niko supposed his surprise was a sign of his adjustment to the Guilds. Served him right, being caught off guard. Dealing constantly with superiors that he knew, in the same situation, would ride things out until the money went away, left him uncertain of what offense he'd committed. Bella Donna, he knew, would have bought everything and anything in sight before either sending him on his way or merrily slitting his throat.

No, but really, Bella Donna was far more discrete. She'd take advantage and then leave his body on his employer's doorstep. Niko allowed a wary look to cross his features, easily imagining the Master of Magnetism leaving him somewhere in New Orleans for Bella Donna to find. An example, a message. Magneto was big on messages right? Niko..really didn't want to be a message. At all.

"State your goal and your employer. You've offended me enough thinking I can be bribed."

Bribe? Wha--oh. Ohhhh... Realization swept over Niko as he stood, a little less tense than a few seconds ago. "I am not trying to bribe you. It would be an exercise in futility and I do not enjoy wasting time on such things." Thankless task trying to figure out what an international 'terrorist' would want anyway. Can you imagine? Shopping around with Magneto? Niko supposed it was a good thing the man was too above it all to take him for a ride. Nerve-wracking thought. "My goal is to do as I've been instructed - ascertain your wishes for the day and, within reason, comply. My employer has always been intrigued by your organization's actions - it does so affect ours at times - and seeks an audience." The British mutant really didn't know what he was and wasn't allowed to say to this man. For all his power, Niko was a little more wary of Bella Donna. Magneto, if pushed, would probably kill him. Bella Donna? Blue-eyed American devil - she'd probably exile him and let the games go from there. Death gauntlet. He would, off the bat, have to leave the country.

The inconvenient part was that there had been no denotation of importance. This might be very important to Bella or it could be passing curiosity. Not a whim, she wouldn't do that, tangoing with Magneto. Niko tried to keep the nonplussed expression from his sharp features. Oh, he wasn't from the government, or aligned with Mystique, but the answer probably wouldn't make Magneto any happier. Or maybe he wouldn't care? There was no telling. If he'd managed to agitate and offend the man without trying, then perhaps he shouldn't be wasting time attempting to guess and just...see what happens. Foolish. I should have asked what happens to me if he refuses. It seemed like a very possible scenario. Crap.

"Of course, if this, too, is an exercise in futility - by all means - I will take your recompense." He offered a smile here,relaxing as he internally determined that if Bella Donna wanted this so badly, she could very well come up here and make it happen herself. She seemed to like him well enough; he did good work and was rising through the ranks. Niko would have to hope he was valuable enough for her not to get mad if Magneto refused to grant her wish.

This post has been edited by ~*Belle*~ on Sep 16 2012, 04:58 PM

[XxMagneto]

"I am not trying to bribe you. It would be an exercise in futility and I do not enjoy wasting time on such things."

Erik kept his face stern, ignoring his exasperation. This was beginning to sound very business-like in a very political way. Butter up the person you wish to align yourself with when that person's public image far exceeds your own.

"My goal is to do as I've been instructed - ascertain your wishes for the day and, within reason, comply. My employer has always been intrigued by your organization's actions - it does so affect ours at times - and seeks an audience."

Ascertain his wishes and comply? Such information caused a twinge to perk up on Erik's eyebrow. And his organization? It sounded like this man was referring to the Brotherhood. How... unfortunate. If this lowlife of an individual knew who he was, who else knew he was alive? The government could do wonderful things with that information. Right now, Erik's anonymity was his biggest asset. He would like to keep it that way. Magneto's stony features broke into a smile. Small, but enough to hint at the danger he was thinking.

"Of course, if this, too, is an exercise in futility - by all means - I will take your recompense."

Magneto's eyes never left the man's own. He cooly dipped his hand into his pocket, pulled out the same amount of cash, and gave the money to the man. His eyes rolled down the man's attire, vision sweeping to the hem lines and edges. "And yet you never revealed your employer's name." His employer knew he was alive... Erik didn't like that. Not when someone who seemed to have so much disposable income at their whim was trying to appease him. What else could they do with that money? He looked again at the tailor, making sure the diminutive man was still far enough away. Gray eyes looked at Niko once more and Erik's amused expression appeared.

"Tell me. Is that metal in your pants?"

The teeth of the man's zipper began misshapen, elongating into spikes that poked inward toward every man's most precious anatomy. The button itself began to dig into the man's abdomen, just below his naval. Erik took a step forward, face dripping of malice. "I don't prefer to be so crass, but you've compromised my position. I will give you one chance to stop me from making your life insignificant. Tell me your employer's name and location that way I can thank them personally for alerting others that I'm alive. If not," Erik sneered as the teeth of the zipper poked deeper into such sensitive skin, "I'll find your employer myself by sending them a very special gift that once belonged to you."

This wasn't the same charismatic Erik the world had come to known. This was a different man, someone whose time didn't allow him to play such silly games. He was taking a page out of Mystique's notebook, it seemed, with his vulgarity. But there was a time and place for everything, and to Erik, this was time and place for "sensitive" threats.

[~*Belle*~]

Niko did not have a power that could get him out of this situation. He wished he had teleportation or portal abilities or /anything/. There were no words for how awkward, and kind of humiliating, it was to entertain the prospect of dying in this fashion. What a ridiculous notion - death by zipper. It was creative, sure. Even as an assassin, he'd never though of such of a thing. Of course, when you had power like Magneto's, you get to entertain notions like that. Pinning someone...with their zipper. Swearing colorfully in his mind, Niko determined that if he survived this, Bella Donna owed him big. He didn't care; she so owed him for this impromptu suicide mission. He didn't know if death, near-death, whatever-the-heck-happened-to-him, had changed the man. He didn't know if maybe he was always this moody. Hostile. Niko hadn't a clue and would have been just as happy to remain clueless, but noooo... His boss wanted to meet the illustrious Master of Magnetism.

What he did know was that he was stuck and, unfortunately, he was likely going to make it worse. Damn loyal streak; why couldn't he have a little less backbone. Grimacing, Niko stopped short of taking a breath - didn't want to make it worse, and stared back at Magneto. His powers couldn't get him out, but they could sustain him. Niko didn't have offensive powers at all. You really couldn't even call it defensive. Alright, they weren't, not at all. He wouldn't even call them preservative, or particularly wise to use. But he did it anyway. The relief was instant, but Niko reminded himself to take it with a grain of salt.

Being barred from feeling pain didn't mean he wasn't in danger.

No, judging from Magneto's We-are-not-amused expression, he was far from out of the zone. However, he now had to make a judgment call. If this man found Bella Donna, what would he do? There wasn't a hint of curiosity that Niko could detect. If it was there, Magneto was burying it under a heaping dose of anger. No...this was too dangerous. He didn't know what Bella Donna wanted with Magneto, but this was risky. So Niko made a call. "I can't." Two words he had no doubt the man before him didn't want to hear, but he said it anyway. "Or I won't, rather. I'm very much doubting that you intend to sit and talk calmly; I won't hand you my boss on a silver platter for execution."

Backtracking to an earlier accusation, he went on to say, "And I didn't compromise your little 'secret' any more than you did by walking around in broad daylight, in the city, with nothing obstructing your features or identity. It was a fluke." Niko actually sounded slightly offended. He was, actually. Accusing an assassin of indiscretion was a quick way to wound their pride. On a different note, Niko had actually thought Magneto had wandered about as such on purpose. As if he wasn't concerned about it at all or to rub it in the world's face that they weren't to be rid of him just yet. Or some such like that. Guess not? "No doubt that a dead body won't clear your trail much either," the tall Brit added. Though he doubted much would stop Magneto if he found Niko's continued existence...inconvenient.

Magneto would have done better with someone a little less..loyal? He frowned. "You don't honestly believe I'll tell you." The man couldn't be serious. Yeah, he is, his brain insisted, reminding him that while he couldn't feel it, his life was still very much in danger. "Would any of your followers hand over that information in such a situation?" Really, if he was honest, Niko couldn't particularly name what inspired said loyalty. There was no touching story of him being in awe of Bella Donna's ability or title. No inspired first impression. No rescuing or unique event forging a bond. And it wasn't love either, as some dodderheads would like to suggest. Actually, his first view of Bella Donna was more a view of her boot. Or more feeling her boot nudging his prone body. His first /viewing/ was from the perspective of him bleeding profusely on the ground, staring impassively at the blonde as she and the people accompanying her looked down at him. He felt like an immobile mouse before a cat with a morbid curiosity. She looked like she was waiting to see how long it'd take him to bleed out and die. He'd never known anyone who could look so impossibly bored in such a tense situation.

But he'd lived. She let him live, rather, and he was in New York now. Standing here in front of one of the most powerful men alive, back from the 'dead' even, and wondering why the blonde couldn't have had the decency to die. At least that scenario would have been more dignified than..death by zipper. Ludicrous, but very much possible unfortunately. Wait for it, wait for it - loophole. Loophole that Magneto may or may not like, but still another option that may or may not save him from such a degrading end. In a bloody tailor's shop at that. ""I do, however, have a cell phone. Powerful as you are, even you can't kill someone via phone." ....right? ... "That will have to suffice - as it isn't guaranteed you won't just kill me anyway, even if I do tell you what you want to know."

"If you'd be so kind as to not maim me, I'll dial the number and give you my phone." And, supposing Magneto cooperated - 50/50 - and his ability to reproduce remained intact, Niko would do as promised and dial the number. No numbers were programmed and all call and text history was cleared on the hour, every four hours. Including the top of the hour as Niko had sat calmly in the waiting area earlier. He compromised nothing by handing over the phone. Two rings and a bored alto would filter clearly through the phone and, after asking someone named Nicole to please put that desk down, would simply greet the caller with an unconcerned "Quoi?" Of course, if Magneto refused and insisted on a name and address, well, the word 'impasse' came to mind.

[XxMagneto]

He can't. Was that affirmation that he couldn't, or just merely a play to say he wouldn't? Erik's lips pursed as he slid his tongue over his upper teeth. So many decisions, so little time. He cocked his head to the left, then to the right, analyzing Niko as if he was a fine painting. A sick, twist thought came to Erik as he allowed his anger to swirl in his mind. Could it genetically be possible to reenact a Picasso painting? Niko's nose on his chest, with his lips on his forehead, and his eyes peering out from his cheeks? He was sure some mutant out there was living such a nightmare. Though he couldn't undermine such a fantastic display of living art by making his own counterfeit. It was a thought that left as soon as it arrived.

Erik kept himself from rolling his eyes while keeping a firm hold on the man's zipper with his abilities. He hardly wanted to execute the man's boss, merely... have a few choice words and see where they stood. Was that so difficult? It seemed trust was an issue here. Erik wasn't trusted; how unfortunate.

"And I didn't compromise your little 'secret' any more than you did by walking around in broad daylight, in the city, with nothing obstructing your features or identity. It was a fluke."

Erik smiled. "Very little people know what I look like outside of my uniform. But we'll continue to play your games." For one annoying statement after the other, the tighter the teeth of the zipper became. That and the man's accent was beginning to grate his nerves.

"Would any of your followers hand over that information in such a situation?"

"I'd expect they would if they were in your position," Erik mused. "I don't hide behind ill-fitting suits and annoying accents. If you couldn't tell, I do the dirty work myself should harm become my followers." His eyes trailed to the man's pants and back to his eyes. Erik said nothing at all as the man went about quibbling over his cellphone. As the cellphone was put into his hand, bare fingers grasped the device, he placed it into his ear, and he heard a single word: "Quoi?"

Cellphones carried electronic signals that had to pass through the magnetic spectrum in order to locate their target. While millions of signals were all around them daily, now that Erik had one end of the signal in his hand, it was much easier to simply reach out and find its recipient. Corded phones were an entirely different matter. Thank goodness Niko was so futuristic with his gadgets.

"I do so enjoy working with those who have a multitude of accents at their disposal. Perhaps we'll discuss this in person in...," Erik closed his eyes, lifted his eyebrows, and stared back into Niko's eyes, "New Orleans." He slid the phone to his shoulder to conceal his voice. "Wouldn't it have been simpler to merely tell me where your boss was at?" Raising his phone back to his ear, "While I appreciate your need to send your follower to visit with me, you could have saved this man some unpleasantries if you told him to tell me exactly what I wanted to know. As I prepare to meet you personally, remember this when we come face to face: I don't run in circles when it clearly inconveniences me. I also don't like others knowing I'm... shall we say... retour d'entre les morts. If that stands well with you, I'll meet you later. If not, my dear, I'll see you anyways. Goodbye."

If it was the boss, very good. If not, Erik would make his point once he arrived.

With that, he threw the phone back to Niko, glad to have vented his frustration. He straightened his shirt by pulling at his collar. "You should consider having some custom pants made." Erik looked down at the growing blood stain on Niko's trousers. "I hope we never meet again." Erik turned and left, leaving Niko's button and zipper the way he made it--tight and penetrating.

tbc: Magneto - Somewhere in New Orleans!

[~*Belle*~]

((OOC: Answered in 'You'll Put Your Eye Out Kid))

Thread Closed.

This post has been edited by ~*Belle*~ on Oct 24 2012, 10:40 PM