` LOVE THE FUTURE

[fairie lore]

Azazel laughs.

It feels like it's the first time he's genuinely laughed since Shaw as put in prison, but he does so now because nothing brings him more joy than knowing everything is slowly starting to be back to normal. "You're never going to change, are you?" He supposes that it's neither a good thing or bad thing; Sebastian just is who he is. And no matter what life throws at him, his core personality may retreat but it will never crumble. He doesn't care if Sebastian is uncomfortable with own displays (arguably of affection, if Azazel was honest to himself), but he'll do them anyway even though he knows to never expect reciprocation. He understands that, and it simply matters more to him that he's by Sebastian's side.

"Dinner's ready! Hans calls from the modest dining room, where he's set up their meal: three place mats are set and there's a juicy steak set on each of their plates with some vegetables on the side. There's a glass filled with water and then a wine glass beside it (Hans has already poured himself some and the bottle is at the centre of the table).

↻

Shaw! That damn man! He would pay for what he had done to Charles, for reducing him to this wreck. How could anyone ever willingly be a participant in his atrocities? Azazel's disappearance (or at least lack of appearance) concerns her once more, and her heart pangs at the thought that he might somehow be involved in all of this. Surely everything they had talked about for the past months must have gotten to him and made him realize that Azazel had no business being with that man and that he was much better off here, with Charles. She wouldn't believe that Azazel would harm Charles, after everything the man had done for him.

Charles' voice fills her head for the first time in some months, and it means that he's too tired to talk. It isn't fair that Charles should get hurt, considering he preaches peace and unity. Nothing is fair... "Do you have a cellphone on you? What do you want me to ask of him?" She inquires frantically, before finding one more question she needs to ask: "Do you know where Azazel is?"

Everything hurts.

In light of that, he's not sure how much of a good choice he made despite that Elwood may have reassured him. Especially when he followed that up with the fact that he was more or less a weakling. By virtue of that very fact he wished someone else had found him so that he would have any chance of getting himself away from all of the wreckage. He winces when he's pulled up, but keeps silent; he's a man, after all. The struggle only starts there, however, and he feels like his metal infrastructure his rebelling against the rest of his body and he looks so absolutely pained that a weaker willed man might faint.

He doesn't feel very comfortable with Elwood touching him and give a growl when he feels the mutant's hand on his waist, but is cooperative in the attempts to get him to a standing position. He initially feels his heart skip a beat when he's propelled by water, unnatural as it is, but he manages to keep his balance. So, they're standing down and his body feels like jelly. Or metal encoated by jelly. "I'll do my best." He answers with pride, even though he wants nothing more than to lay back down and be idle.

[balance and composure]

"Something tells me you like me better with a continental ego," Sebastian replies with an incline of his head. "If that's the case, I don't see why I'd ever change."

He hears Hans call from the dining room and turns to look in that direction, squinting thoughtfully and then walking toward it. In all seriousness, he would be lying if he insisted he wasn't even remotely hungry. Half-lying, actually. At the present moment, his stomach doesn't wretch and twist itself into a balloon animal, but it's been a long time since he's had any food from the world outside the mutant compound. He hadn't even eaten when he'd waken up hours and hours ago--he was too preoccupied to think about eating.

Not to say he isn't currently occupied with thoughts other than eating as he sits down and studies the food like he's determining whether it's real or not. The most that's on his mind is getting his body back and Azazel, whose presence he is acutely aware of (maybe more so than he used to be, he thinks). He doesn't like waiting when he has so much on the line--he could die if Prosper Reed ******** up. He wants to be out there doing something so he can reorganize and reclaim.

Sebastian swallows his impatience and begins to eat under a guise of calmness (which isn't totally false, seeing as he has Azazel again and that alone is worth all the tranquility in the world).


- - - - -

'A cellphone?' Charles repeats wearily, furrowing his brow. He tries to think of every possible place his phone would be--he never carries it around with him, so it could only ever be somewhere in the mansion. Hopefully not in the laboratory, which is completely destroyed. Nothing can be salvaged from it.

'Ah,' He turns his head toward the mansion, barely jutting his chin out at it. 'My room...on the desk, I think. We need Andile Bogandi to be sent here immediately. I don't care if he sends the entire CIA too, I would just like for us all to be in shape for getting Pietro back.' He could've just as easily said "pursuing Prosper," but Charles' thoughts are zeroed in on getting the boy back safely (and alive) and he can't think about it any other way. That's what Erik is for, he supposes--to focus on Prosper while he focuses on Pietro.

He looks at Raven when she asks about Azazel, withholding his curiosity and instead opting to answer her question. 'Mr. Collier called him away. I assure you he had nothing to do with what happened here.'

"Hopefully your best is enough to assist mine, lest I give up and resort to water again," Elwood laughs, teetering to the side and proceeding to drag ("guide" isn't the correct word for his struggle) Logan to a clearer part of the outside. Though he would much rather prefer to be indoors at any given moment, particularly this one, he doesn't have the drive to help Logan all the way to a part of the mansion that can still be considered "indoors" when a slightly less dingy version of the outside is closer. And regardless of his insistence to get to cleaner air, the smoke and dust still seem to be repelled from Elwood's person.

"Good to see that you haven't suffered trauma in the brain," He muses, "I mean, as far as I can tell. You're showing repulsion at my touch so I can only assume you're still in your right mind. Thank God for that, eh? It's almost as if everything is back to normal, isn't it?" He pauses, shifts his gaze around the place. "Well, aside from the, er, near-utter destruction of your H.Q., Sebastian Shaw running amok, and Prosper Reed turning the entire human race against our kind. Other than that, I'd say things are about right."

[fairie lore]

"We'll see just how right I am about you being a weakling." He grunts, and side by side they look like each other's antithesis. Elwood, man as he may be, doesn't look any more physically intimidating than a normal human being. Logan, on the other hand, certainly looks like a one man army even without his claws unsheathed. But despite his words he does hope that the mutant has enough strength to get him to a place where there isn't fire.

Blabber, blabber, blabber.

He already has a headache from the fact that the entire manor practically fell on top of him and Elwood is not helping it in the slightest. "Has anyone ever told you to shut up? Well? I'm telling you to do so right now before I reconsider not puncturing your skin."

Jesus. This is who he got stuck with?

[balance and composure]

Tsk, tsk. "Weakness is based on one's perception," Elwood chides, "What I lack in physicality, I make up for in the ability to burst your body in a gory explosion."

He laughs.

And he also shuts up, though not because Logan threatened him. He's wary of the possibility that the man might not be without an aching head and decides not to press it by going quiet. Under his cheery façade (and the gas mask above that), Elwood is concerned. He imagined that if this sort of situation were ever to happen, he would be the one pulled out of the wreckage, not Logan. For the exact opposite to happen makes him nervous, but he's relieved that the other mutant isn't anymore injured than he actually is, and Elwood thinks that he talks (talked, rather) so much to cover up the fact that he feels such a normal emotion when he's supposed to be anything but.

With semi-labored breathing he would deny being the source of, Elwood leads Logan well away from the mansion and into the remains of a garden. He struggles to a toppled-over tree and slowly lets Logan down in front of it, gently as possible. Once he does, he sighs and kneels down in front of the other man, reaching up to pull the mask from his face for the second time, hesitating, and then putting his hand back down.

"I'm sorry I can't be of more help, Puppy," He softly confesses whilst busying himself with straightening his clothes out. "But I am genuinely mollified that you aren't dead, for what my opinion is worth to you."

[fairie lore]

Azazel smiles like they've never been apart, not even for a single moment.

"I'd tell you not to let it go to your head, but..." He says with a wry smirk and he finds that nothing brings him greater than joy than having everything be back to normal. Better than normal, he supposes. After all, when was the last time that Sebastian said he missed him (although when was the last time they were apart)? Sincere sentiments of any kind were in short supply with Shaw and that was what made all of these moments that much more significant.

When the call for dinner came he realized that he was hungry, which was somewhat surprising since his appetite had been mostly non existent (excluding the days where he ate like some sort of wild animal). Everything was going back to normal. He would eat at dinner with a calm composure like he had done this every day of his life.

The superb meal was complimented by good company (most certainly in reference to Shaw, but Hans Landa definitely had some points his book for what he'd done for Sebastian).

Hans does not force conversation because for one, he can see that Azazel and Sebastian have made up, and in the comfort of his home he doesn't feel the need to keep up appearances. All he can think of is how there should only be one place mat, occupied by a person who is not here.

↻

As soon as Raven was assured that Azazel was not part of everything that happened she darts away in search of the cellphone, navigating through the rubble to the inside of the mansion to try and locate it. She has the slightest hesitation when she stands outside of Charles' room because she has not been inside there in decades, and it would be as if she was intruding into some sort of sacred environment. But she went in, scanning over the room and pacing over to the desk, looking for the cellphone. There were stacks and stacks of books that made it harder to find the other items on the desk, but once she started pushing them around she finally found it, hurrying back to Charles.

With some guidance to find the number, she called up Richard Collier.

↻

The sound of a phone ringing did not seem to phase Hans Landa, at least not immediately. Within a minute, he had stopped all motion and simply looked as if he was considering the aesthetic appeal of his meal. Finally, he uttered a polite "Excuse me," and went off to answer his phone, retreating into his own room.

"Hello?" He answered, albeit not too pleased to be to have his dinner interrupted.

"Mr. Collier! The institute was attacked by Shaw and the place is in ruins and there are a lot of people hurt and... and... Charles says that you must send over Andile Bogandi." She pleaded, as if that would help.

There was a distinct silence, as if there no one on the other line.

"Mr. Collier?"

"Pass the phone over."

And she did just that.

↻

Azazel poked and prodded at his food as if he was greatly interested in it, although in reality the only thing at the table that he was captivated by was Sebastian. He couldn't help steal glances at him, although at some point he decided that there was no shame in staring at his leader.

"He's a good friend to you." He was of course referring to Hans, who had the very least had not tried to execute him, had taken him right now, and had reunited the two of them.

↻

Between loneliness and Elwood, he would pick loneliness.

Jesus, what a psychopath.

But at least he shuts up, which at the very least gives him some time to concentrate on his aching pain rather than the pain in the a** he has to deal with (Elwood). Logan tries his best to walk, although he feels like a prisoner being dragged against his will, his entire body uncooperative and disorganized. Step by step, he tries his best to push the throbbing pain and get himself to a more agreeable place, which ends up being against a collapsed tree. He settles down with a wince, but he's content at least not to be standing nor walking any more.

If only pain was the least of his problems.

Perhaps it's because he's in a resting position, but a siren sounds loudly in his head at the unwanted sincerity of Elwood's words. He was transitioning from simply being creeped out by the mutant's weird displays of affection to being concerned, because he will not be a consentual party to whatever the ******** this is. A voice tells him that he needs to stop this now, which is overshadowed by any thought of thanking him for burying him out of the rubble. "Listen, buster, I don't know where you get off at trying to make my life a living hell, but enough is enough." He raises a hand to point at him, and if he had more energy he'd be jabbing him. "What the hell did I ever do to you to deserve this?" He snarles, but retracted his hand because it ached too much.

[balance and composure]

Sebastian eats in a comfortable silence that doesn't bear down on his shoulders--a welcome change from the kind of quiet he'd grown used to these days. He's very aware that Azazel looks at him from time to time, though he doesn't return the glances. When he hears a phone ring, his eyes flicker up to the middle of the table, and only when Hans excuses himself does he look up completely. He follows the man until he's gone and then turns to Azazel, and the reason why he'd borderline ignored him becomes apparent; he has to suppress a smile.

"That he is," He answers without a second thought because to him, it just sounds like he's stating the truth. The claim sounds simple, like something a person would bring up about someone else in casual conversation, but Sebastian knows that Hans has been more than just a good friend. Apart from Azazel, he was the only man who didn't want him dead, who--dare he say it--believed in him, even if only slightly. He's loathe to think that he owes his old, old friend, but that's the way it is and what he recognizes.

"But I can't help but get the feeling that he's going to want something from me eventually." Sebastian doesn't say this unpleasantly, merely as though he's pointing out something obvious. He expects to be asked for something because that's how he operates; if he does something for someone, he expects a repayment, and vice versa. He isn't a stranger to the concept of fairness, despite what everything he does testifies.


- - - - -

Charles waits patiently as Raven runs off, albeit he doesn't have much of a choice. His mind drifts to the well-being of the rest of the X-Men--are they safe? The most he did was check to see if they were all alive. Are they hurt? If so, how badly? How many of them have Erik and Hugh found? He doesn't have the energy to check, but he has the heart to try looking on the brighter side of things.

At least nobody died.

More than anything, he wants to know if Pietro is alright. If he tries hard enough, he can feel glimmers of the boy's mind far from here, but only enough to know that he's not dead. Charles can't feel whether he's hurt, distressed, conscious. He attempts to look deeper, to get a sense of where the boy is, but he fails every time.

Charles helps Raven find Richard Collier's number in his phone by telepathic means, closing his eyes while she makes the call and speaks. He hears her repeat Richard's name and cracks an eye open again to look at her, seeing that the phone is held out to him. His brows arch with faint incredulity as he blinks expectantly at Raven. 'Am I supposed to speak to him telepathically over the phone?' He asks. Coming from anyone else, it would've sounded sarcastic. From him, it sounds like a genuine question.

Elwood tilts his head and smiles when Logan gets irritated, though the smile he wears isn't anything like the usual ones he subscribes to--it looks hurt, maybe a little bitter, but no one sees it.

"What a curious choice of words," He muses, flexing his hands on his knee. "I reckon you don't want to find out how I can make that happen. Our definitions of 'living hells' are apparently very, very different." Elwood speaks grimly, and he stands to pat his suit down, to readjust his hair and the state of his appearance. "As for what you've done, I don't see how that's relevant anymore. I'm glued to you for the rest of my mortal life," He mutters something else that sounds suspiciously like "regrettably," "So what does it matter?"

The black-clad man looks at his surroundings and shakes his head at the deplorable state, then turns his gaze down to Logan. "I'll be sure to tell the search party that you're alive. Don't go and rust where you sit in the meantime." He carelessly waves and digs his heel into the ground, twisting it to the side and walking away.

[fairie lore]

Raven bites her lip at the question, clears her throat just once, and then puts the phone back to her ear. "Charles is in rough shape right now so you'll just have to talk to me. But please, Mr. Collier, you have to help us. Otherwise Shaw is going to come back and..."

"My dear, I understand." He says so she stops talking, because there is only so much snivelling he can take before his patience begins to wear down, and in these recent months it is a poor idea to test it. But now, Hans has to consider his next move, which is altogether not completely obvious. The X-Men, he feels, will likely become a thorn in his side one day; why not let them waste away? He's under no obligation to help them, especially considering what a perfect excuse it is to say he distrusts mutants.

But as long Prosper is alive he will utilize every ally he has.

"Now, pray tell, exactly where are you?" The Xavier Institute was a top secret location and the last human to know of it had conveniently gotten her memory erased.

Raven looks to Charles before she sputters off the location and directions. "Hold the phone up to his ear," She obeys, watching curiously.

"Now that there will come a day when I will want you to make good on all the favours I have done for you and I expect as an honourable man you will deliver."

He hangs up the phone without another word.

Hans calls up the CIA and directs them to the Xavier Institute, and with his permission to relieve Andile Bogandi from his solitary confinement for just a little while. He will be securely transported by air with fifteen CIA members and upon arriving there they are to aid Charles Xavier, but are directed to call him if things get out of hand.

Hans wishes that he would ask to set Dimitri free too, but he is not that weak a man. Dimitri is in prison for his own safety, where no one else can get to him. But even there, he's not really safe - Prosper had broke in once, after all. It's enough to make him wonder if they'll pull through all of this, this time.

↻

It's funny to think that Sebastian Shaw has any friends at all, when in reality two people could be considered as such. Azazel certainly would put himself in that category, and although he doesn't know the intricacies of the relationship between Sebastian and Hans Landa, it seems that they could be considered friends as well, especially considering in light of the character of both men. If there was any one who seemed as concerned about his self preservation as Sebastian, it was Hans. Which is what made their friendship all the more curious.

But still, it worked somehow, because even Sebastian agrees that Hans was good to him.

"Has he ever asked you for something before?" He asks, poking his fork into some meat to at least give the illusion that he's eating, although Azazel is far more interested into what Sebastian has to say. It's hard to try and remember a time before he'd known Sebastian, and yet the man had gone through so much by the time they had met he had lived an entire lifetime.

↻

Logan doesn't understand how one person can be so insufferable, but that's exactly what Elwood is. He doesn't even feel bad that he didn't thank the man for what he'd done, not any more. "I seriously doubt being drier than the Saharah is less bearable than having to deal with you." He glares, nearly spitting the words. a*****e.

But for as aggravating as he can be, the mutant can be equally confusion. He spouts some utter nonsense that just makes Logan furrow his eyebrows and wonder what the hell that is supposed to mean. By the time he decides that he should try and inquire what in God's green earth he's trying to get at, Elwood has already made his leave. "Hey, I'm not done talking to you!"

The words fall to the log he's leaning against.

↻

Erik, in the meanwhile, had been making quick work of finding the remaining mutants that were buried with Hugh's help and were settling them back into the mansion, although he doesn't stop thinking about Charles for even a moment and how he's going to make whoever did this pay.

And there isn't a person on this earth could stop him from it.

[balance and composure]

Sebastian considers this question seriously, stopping for a moment and putting down his fork. He looks at the ceiling and asks himself, has Hans ever asked him for anything before?

"If you're referring to anything that mattered in the grand scheme of reality, no," He replies with a satisfied expression. During the war, he and Hans went back and forth with favors that seemed important then, but some seventy years later, haven't impacted the way things have happened. They were small things, little requests. Nothing of gargantuan value, personal or monetary. Hans has never actually asked him for anything important.

Sebastian chuckles and sits back with a shrug. "There's a first time for everything, though." He takes an indolent sip of wine and glances at Azazel, smirking around the edge of the glass.


- - - - -

Though the brief conversation is fuzzy in his ears, Charles is gathered enough to tune in when the phone is held out by his ear. He takes a sidelong glance at it after Richard hangs up and narrows his eyes, suspicious and knowing. Of course he's aware of what he's asked of the man. Charles does his fair share of asking for favors, but if there's one thing that he's sure of, one thing in the tangle of uncertainty that is himself, it's that he returns what he's given. He wouldn't have so many friends otherwise, but he's hesitant to find out how he's to repay Richard in the future.

But that won't happen today and most likely not tomorrow. Probably not for a while. The here and now is what matters and he can mull the vague intentions over with Erik later.

Some half hour passes and an imposing trio of helicopters bears down on the battered grounds. The pilots take care to land well away from the wreckage, but close enough so that the prisoner aboard can quickly get out, do what he came to do, and then depart to be thrown back into his cell. Once the helicopters touch the ground, men in black flow out and from one, amidst the river of black, a tall man in gray walks. He's ushered out none too gently, but even then he seems to carry himself with a sense of deliberation. What once was a tan complexion has turned pale under fluorescent lights and short, curly black hair has become matted and shoulder-length. In a stark contrast, the prisoner's eyes are wizened, sad, and could very well qualify as their own regalia. The shabbiness of his appearance doesn't do enough to make him look any less baronial than he did before imprisonment.

Andile Bogandi hasn't seen the outside world for half a year, but it seems like it's been an eternity. When men came into his cell and pulled him out, the first thought wasn't that he would be released, but executed. He was prepared to take it, he understood that his death was inevitable and his time would be coming sooner than he'd expected, but stepping out of the helicopter made him realize he wasn't sentenced to be killed. Not yet.

Instead, he recognizes where he's been taken--scarcely--and has an overwhelming feeling of dread wash over him that makes his shoulders sag ever so slightly. He knows this place because he's been here before, roughly five years ago, and he knows who it belongs to. He knows why he's been brought here.

He also knows who the man is lying on the ground far ahead.

Andile's stride picks up and he starts to slip to the head of the group before the other men pull him back and he's forced to walk in the middle of a circle, but to his security detail's credit, they walk faster.

When he's close enough, Andile is allowed to break away and approach Charles on his own and his brow creases with worry as he kneels in the dirt and puts a careful hand on the other man's shoulder. Charles opens his eyes, sees him, and smiles rather weakly--a far cry from the professor of the past. Andile smiles back, sadly, because this isn't how he'd planned to meet Charles again.

"I think we can save the pleasantries for later," He murmurs, gently gripping Charles' shoulder. The brunette nods and turns his head toward the mansion--or what's left of it. Andile's eyes follow the gesture, and even before he hears his friend's voice in his head, he understands what's being said. "Of course, dear friend. The X-Men will be in perfect condition by the time I'm shoved back into a helicopter."

He looks up at Raven and smiles a little wider, removing his hand from Charles' shoulder and extending it toward her. "You must be the sister Charles mentioned. Raven? Mystique? Beautiful names. It's a pleasure to meet you either way," He stands up and squints at the remains of the mansion, absently licking his lips. "Is your leader here as well? Erik something-or-other..."

Andile trails off, then crouches back down to regain Charles' faint attention. "Would you mind calling Erik Something-or-other over? Six months of solitary confinement hasn't left me with much muscle, I don't trust my security detail to lay a hand on anyone, and asking a lady to carry you would be terribly rude."

In the mansion, Hugh is helping the X-Men get situated when he stops and looks up as if listening for something. Hesitantly, he turns toward Erik and clears his throat. "Erik, the professor is asking for you. It's nothing serious, he says, he just needs you to, er...carry him back here. At least I'm fairly sure that's what he just said."

[fairie lore]

Azazel can only hope that when the day comes that Hans Landa asks something from Sebastian that it would not be too great a favour. Ah, but if it were, would Shaw even comply? He isn't trying to bash the man's, ah, integrity, but he's pretty sure that there isn't a person on this earth that could make Shaw do something he absolutely didn't want to. Still, he more so hopes that Hans will never ask anything of him.

Hans returns with a bright smile on his face, settling back into his seat. "By the smirk on your face I imagine I have missed out on some riveting conversation." He said, also taking his glass in hand and taking a sip. "Sorry, I had to get it. The CIA goes berserk if I don't answer my phone for too long." He explains, but he figures he'll omit what the conversation on the phone was about. It'll only cause more trouble than good.

"So, have you considered an optimal location for your public execution?" He leans back in his seat, swirling the wine around in his glass. His wording, crass as it may be, gets to the heart of the matter. They all want to see Prosper Reed crucified.

↻

It's a laborious effort to dig up what is essentially the entire team of X-Men, but between himself and Hugh they manage to get it done fairly swiftly, considering he imagines that it's probably not too good to be situation anywhere near a smouldering fire. His attention was instantly drawn to Hugh when he mentioned Charles, cocking his head at the request but altogether finding it reasonable (considering the man's current state). "Well, let's go." He reasoned, and started to head back.

↻

Raven, understandably, feels on edge when the helicopters land and a sea of black approaches them, since she can't exactly she has fond feelings towards any government officials, and vice versa. The Brotherhood are one of top hunted groups internationally, and certainly in the United State. But today, the government is here to help them, and she's thankful for whatever reasoning Richard Collier has for cooperating with them.

She carefully eyes the prisoner who emerges, a person who is more or less foreign to her. The Brotherhood was a fairly self enclosed group and didn't really have ties with any other organization, especially not ones that were a continent away. His state of disarray didn't do the man justice, because underneath the surface she could see traces of a handsome man. A gentleman.

A smile twists on her face at how eloquent he is, and she can't help but ask, "How do the two of you know each other?"

A minute or so later, Erik had arrived, stern and stoic now that he had gotten over the shock of the entire situation.

[balance and composure]

Sebastian holds a hand up in greeting when Hans returns, setting his glass down and shaking his head. Whatever he'd spoken to whoever about, he didn't want to know. Even if it happened to be something important--ergo; something including him--he didn't want to know.

The topic of Operation: Prosper Reed's Head On A Mantle comes up and Sebastian merely shrugs. "I was thinking the National Mall. Maybe I can take out a small chunk of the population while I'm at it..." He takes his glass again and sips with his eyes closed, and he's quiet for a few moments before he opens his eyes and blinks with his brows high. "Oh, you said optimal. I thought you said ideal. My mistake."

"Well, that sounds a little like a loaded question. I suppose an 'optimal' location would be somewhere far from human casualties," Sebastian makes a face at the last part, as if the idea of keeping the death toll low is a repulsive one. He folds his arms loosely over his chest and licks his lips, mulling the possibilities over. Optimal. Ideal.

"But no, I don't have anywhere specific in mind. I just want an area that's highly flammable. Prosper Reed's powers work best with props."


- - - - -

Andile turns his attention to Raven and laughs softly at her question. "Ahaha, well..." He shifts and gives a dismissive wave of his hand. "He helped me once upon a time when I needed it most," A distant expression crosses his face until he sees Erik approach out of the corner of his eye. Andile clears his throat and smiles apologetically at the woman as he gets to his feet. "Forgive me for being so vague, but now isn't the time for me to get sentimental."

He turns to Erik and thinks about shaking his hand, then decides not to. He feels like Raven is probably the only one who has the patience to appreciate his formality--Erik, understandably, may not. After all, if Andile judges from what Charles had told him of his old friend, there's probably a lot more than an unkempt prisoner with a charming smile.

"Ah, yes, Erik. I'll leave Charles to you," Andile shifts nervously as he looks at Hugh. "Yes, hello, um..."

"Hugh. Who the hell--"

"A friend. Could you direct me to where the rest of the group is?"

Hugh squints, visibly considering whether Andile is trustworthy enough to let him be around the injured, but the man seems so utterly harmless and without malice that it's either a trap or genuine.Either way, he figures that if a prisoner is allowed anywhere near them and isn't being crushed to death between slabs of metal, he has to be exactly what he says he is. With a nod, Hugh turns and leads Andile toward the mansion, casting a glance over his shoulder at Erik, Charles, and Raven as he does.

[fairie lore]

Hans hadn't intended to spare any more thought to the conversation he'd just gone over, so it's all the more pleasing when Sebastian very plainly conveys that he doesn't want to know. Although, he would have had little problem telling Shaw that Prosper had laid siege to the Xavier Institute if Azazel wasn't in the same problem. He doesn't want the devil running back to Charles for any reason, at least not before Prosper is taken care of. After that, whatever happens is not of his concern, though it is obvious to him that Azazel means to Sebastian what Dimitri means to him.

A broad smile is glued to his face as Sebastian conveys his preferred version of how things will go, "Regrettably, I feel I have to try and limit the amount of civilian casualties. You know, being President and all." He replies, though of course there are a few more practical reasons: like the less people who interfere the better. Hans would prefer not to deal with mass hysteria while he's trying to enjoy his act of revenge.

"Somewhere abandoned, perhaps? A factory or some sort of energy plant?" He suggested, taking another quick sip of his wine.

Azazel was silent, merely watching the masterminds at work. Ordinarily he didn't usually have much opportunity for input with Shaw, but he was never really the creative sort to begin with.

↻

Erik narrows his eyes at the sign of this person who is mostly unknown to him, at least other than seeing him on television when he was wreaking destruction. Then, he focuses in on the circle of CIA members and feels instantly threatened, but by the fact that no one else seems on edge he suppresses his emotions. He doesn't like the sight of any other government members, but he remembers that Richard Collier had been on their side and hopefully still was. By the fact that they haven't tried to detain anybody he will cautiously accept the premise that they are here to help.

Finally, his gaze lands on Charles, poor, broken Charles. The pain of his mental wound is still fresh and it is doubtful anything will mend all the grief he's gone and repair their friendship, but he can't turn his back on him. Not in his greatest time of need. He sighs, picks the man up, and starts walking towards the mansion without a word.

Raven follows, her thoughts jumping between the threat of the CIA, Charles being injured, and Azazel.

Elsewhere, Logan is fuming and feeling the bark dig into his back uncomfortably.

[balance and composure]

SUMMARY OF MASSIVE PROPORTIONS AS WRITTEN BY FAIRIE LORE

BASICALLY EVERYBODY AND THEIR MOTHER WOULD SHOW UP.

Okay, well Hans and Sebastian and Azazel would go whatever-a** location was decided upon and the plan would go through and Sebastian would start to I don’t know, flail into walls and stuff (‘stop hitting yourself!’) and Prosper would no doubt show up because who would want their one true vessel to be a rag doll? The X-Men would also show up because telepathic powers are what they are and MASSIVE FREAKOUT AND GLARING because Shaw’s there but there’s that a*****e Prosper too.

And then Prosper would get his guys or whatever to bring Pietro so he could do a hostage situation and be like ‘yo, go take care of these other guys for me and you can have the kid’ and all in the meanwhile Raven would be eying Azazel and feeling sorta betrayed that he’s back with Shaw and lays on the big news THAT SHE’S PREGGERS and that if there’s ever a time to show who he’s loyal for it’s now and then there would be some awesome Shaw/Azazel interaction because Shaw would be like ******** NO I CAN’T LOSE AZAZEL I HAVE FEELINGS and Azazel might be sort of a b***h because I imagine Shaw might try and go prideful way and be like OH YOU PROMISED I OWN YOU but then eventually he would be like MAN I NEED YOU and then Azazel, of course, would be like ME TOO and it would be sort of angsty for Raven because she really likes him.

Anyways, on the front of kids and stuff, Prosper would be super ultra pissed nobody is killing anybody and then maybe tries to off Pietro but then BAM IN COMES Emma Frost to save Pietro, who is actually his mother (REALLY SOMEHOW). So quickly things are going downhill for Prosper and maybe there is some epic fighting going on and people get injured or whatever I didn’t think this part through too much and revealing all those villainous scheme and all that, but basically it comes down to Prosper looking at Hans whom he may or may not know is immortal and/or Hans Landa and be like, ‘remember when you said if things were different you’d help me?’ and then go on how they are the both the most badass dudes to ever live and that they could rule the world because of their badassery and Shaw is just second rate and that he should really team up with him.

And then Hans Landa would step up to him, extend his hand with a smile, and Prosper would smile too, and they would shake hands. And then without even looking away, Hans would whisper (to Shaw), ‘I think Mr. Reed has a death wish if he’s making deals with me.” And then he’d chuckle politely and use his grip to break every bone in his hand.

Then, he’d leave the rest to Shaw to literally tear him limb from limb because best buddies let you get back at the ******** who ruined your life for a little bit. The X-Men would be all bent out of shape and weak so they wouldn’t have been able to do anything, although maybe they start getting their strength back near the end and Shaw is like ‘eh, I could go for another round’ and obviously want to beat the s**t out of Charles and co. and either they come to some sort of impasse or Hans, being the honourable bro that he is, spares Charles and co. something like that.

Anyways, Hans/Shaw/Azazel all teleport to Hans’ offices because he said so, and Shaw and Azazel sit or linger awkwardly while Hans gets an envelope from his desk with an official presidential seal and gives it to Shaw. Inside of it is a pardon for both Shaw and Azazel, and Hans says ‘This is the deal I would have made you if I had found you first rather than the other way around’ & ‘If you only made one friend in your entire lifetime then I wanted you to know you have not chosen poorly’ and it’s like so absolutely ******** selfless and it just goes to show how they were actually friends or at least in Hans’ mind.

And then Shaw would be like ‘thank you’ and it would completely ******** genuine because outside of Azazel there isn’t a damn person who’s ever really done something for him. And then Shaw and Azazel would disappear and make sweet love. Among other ******** YOU PROSPER moments, it would turn out that Hans had been recording the entire battle and he would broadcast the part where Prosper had basically admitted to everything and the world would see that it was all just a big misunderstanding and mutants aren’t hated and Dimitri can go free.

So yeah, Dimitri would be free and they’d go back to their communal apartment and Dimitri would be just so goddammed happy that he can be with Hans again and that he’s not away from him and it would be so sweet and beautiful. And Hans, for the time in his life would say ‘I love you’ to Dimitri and I’m pretty sure Dimitri would be sobbing. Then Hans would go on about how he’d gotten everything in life that he ever wanted: immortality, power, Dimitri, although he’d always considered him sort of an afterthought and that those other things were more important, or at least power and being some awesome badass was. But really, while Dimtri had been in prison he’d come to realize that he’d have given up his presidency in a heartbeat if it meant Dimitri could go free and that maybe all the choices he’s making might make him happy but they would never make him happy but nothing could make him happier than Dimitri. Then, he’d tell Dimitri that if he ever asked him to stop being in politics/awesome badass that means constant danger, that he’d stop. Dimitri would probably still be sobbing and then he’d say no because he’s just so goddammed selfless in some ways that he deserves sainthood. Also more sweet love.

Oh, and did I mention that Hans Landa would get a Nobel Peace Prize for averting complete disaster and just being awesome? And Dimitri would be there of course and Hans would probably invite Shaw like the troll he is. Maybe Charles too who knows. Then Hans would go on with some kickass speech about equality and how mutants aren’t evil and that’s really more about individual people and PEACE OUT HE’S AWESOME and then he announced that when his term for president was up he would not go for another one and Dimitri would be sobbing again. AND MAYBE HE’D KISS DIMITRI ON STAGE BECAUSE HONESTLY HANS CAN FIX ALL ISSUES. THE WORLD FEELS THANKFUL TO BE GRACED BY HIS AWESOMNESS.

The End.

[balance and composure]

SEVEN YEARS LATER AS WRITTEN BY ME

Seven years after the debacle with Prosper Reed, Hans Landa's presidency has been over for three years, but he's still mobbin' it up with Dimitri Vorrhale and they are currently housed in France. Sebastian Shaw remains a close associate of Hans and is mobbin' it up with Azazel, who he sometimes affectionately refers to as "Lucifer" or "Beelzebub."

Meanwhile, in that span of time, the X-Men and the Brotherhood have mysteriously disappeared without a trace. Left behind for unknown reasons are Wolverine and Mister Rain, who claim to have no idea why their factions have upped and gone. One of them is lying.

After Hans' presidency ended, other world powers showed signs of acting up. Prosper Reed's efforts to rally the human race against the mutants weren't in vain and the proof of that is found in the readiness of countries such as Russia, China, and even the United Kingdom to wage war against mutant-kind.

Mutant friends of political figures have either disappeared or been publicly executed. Minor groups of mutants have formed to fight the gradual oppression of their kind, though typically meet their end very quickly. Without the X-Men and the Brotherhood to act as the buffer between mutants and humans, coupled with Prosper Reed's catalytic actions, the world has raised mutiny. World War III is coming.

[balance and composure]

It had to be a dream.

Dimitri spent the last seven years steeped in constant bliss that fell over him like a waterfall every single day. He didn't need to ask himself why, because the answer was always right in front of him, or right there at his side. He thought that not having to worry about keeping Hans Landa alive was enough of a blessing in his life, but to be loved by the man and have it openly acknowledged? Truly, genuinely loved?

It had to be a joke. But it wasn't.

And Dimitri was fine with whatever Hans decided to do, because he would follow him no matter what the circumstances were anyway. He didn't care if he decided to go through a hundred more presidencies or if he had to be thrown into prison again for just as long. Just the knowledge that he would be waited for and that someone missed him was enough.

But really, Dimitri wasn't disappointed when Hans' reign as President came to an end. He'd be lying if he said he was. The real kicker to that was when Hans insisted (which can also be read as "Hans ordered") that they leave America for France.
Dimitri had a million memories of France. Though some of them were admittedly terrible, the country was far better to him than Russia or America were. Even if he hated France, he would have agreed to the move. After all, he'd follow Hans Landa into hell and back if that's where the man decided to go.

Seven years spent in domestic life--seven years that were admittedly the best seven years Dimitri had ever lived through. He hadn't known peace like that for such a long period of time. It was a stark difference from a decade-long coma, and a good one at that, most certainly.

However, to be fair to the principle of balance, Dimitri wasn't ignorant to the things happening outside his space of happiness.

He knew that even with Prosper Reed's death, the world wasn't having co-existence with mutants. It didn't seem to matter to the humans that Prosper didn't speak for the entire species of mutants. He'd committed such a heinous act that numbers no longer factored into the equation. The only concern was how terrible his deeds were, and they were terrible indeed.
People spoke out against mutants and others cried back in agreement. They even mentioned Sebastian Shaw a few times, and the things he'd done. Dimitri didn't even know if he was still alive, though he honestly didn't care. Hans did, he kept tabs, and that was that.

What clued Dimitri into how bad the situation really was wasn't the semi-unanimous agreement that mutants were the bane of the world, but the actions taken against them. He kept up with the international news and the state of things, slowly losing contact with the handful of people he had become acquainted with in his time with Charles Xavier.
Who had seemed to disappear off the face of the earth along with the rest of the X-Men and the entirety of the Brotherhood, apparently. Dimitri didn't know if he was supposed to be worried about that or not.

Dimitri watched his friends disappeared one by one. Sometimes he would see them be publicly executed via shoddily recorded videos put on the news. Others, he would simply never hear from them again. Cedar Wilson was one of the latter.

And normally, Dimitri would shake off the loss of an acquaintance. He'd learned to drift through them since the war, and the most important person in his life was Hans, who was always with him anyway. But Cedar had her own place of importance in Dimitri's heart the same way his brother and sister did. And Ivan, the man he had killed in the forest well over ninety years ago. He wouldn't sit this one out. Cedar no longer came on television in the background of the President's televised interviews. She didn't answer his phone calls or emails.

Which brings us up to date.

In lieu of sleeping, Dimitri has opted to sit in the living room and stare out the window. It wasn't that he chose not to sleep, it was that he couldn't. His seven years of peace had ended and he didn't exactly have a strong desire to save the world--not yet--but he couldn't ignore the need for closure.

It's this that makes him get up and walk to the room he shares with Hans--their room, he supposes, but he never refers to it as such. Dimitri feels like the man is so far above him that he thinks of the room as Hans' and that he only gets to sleep in it.
He slips through the door and kneels beside the bed, squinting at the clock. Three AM.

He's woken Hans up at ungodly hours a thousand times before. He's immortal anyway, Dimitri thinks, he has the rest of eternity to catch up on lost sleep.

"Landa," Dimitri mutters, reaching out to touch Hans' back. "What do you think of me going to America by myself?"