Innately, the King of Venezuela was a rather humble individual. Having been born a slave and turned a King, he, unlike most, was not one of the highborn's or natural bluebloods of the world. He was a truly self-made individual. A self-made man who in reality, had not only escaped is personal poverty but shot up into becoming one of, if not the, worlds most powerful man. The King of Venezuela, one of the worlds most technologically advanced nations, more advanced than America, and possibly, only the land of Elysia could possibly rival Xenon's self-made empire. Stolen from Charlemagne LeBeau and preserved only by Xenon's might. What was a King, if he could not show off once or twice a year? And today, was one of those days.
In an unexpected flash of golden beauty, the King and the Psyentist were transported into Xenon's own domain, the lavish, spacious throne room which the monarch often sat in for numerous political affairs and judicial proclamations. His throne was made from pure gold and the room garnished by priceless statues made from even purer Vibranium. His white eyes gazed towards Xandra as an elbow royally rest upon the arm, looking towards her as the snake was gobbled up by her carbon creature, he chuckled, quickly de-materializing his mask once more to not seem un-personal, and then reclined back into his throne. "Have you ever visited Venezuela, Doctor Steele?" He inquired, a rarely seen smile of pride emulating from his visage, it was rare for Xenon to show-off, and even rarer for him to exhibit pride compared to his humble persona. "This is the greatest nation in the world." Not an opinion, for this was fact. Free education. No war. Free healthcare and free housing for all, who could argue this notion?
@xenon_: Xandra gazed about her at the exquisite throne room around her. She knew something about being self-made as well. After slaughtering the genetic's staff that made her and her brother and so many more, she was an orphan, fleeing from the remnants of the YOUgenics corporation. Every success was granted by her intellectual prowess and unique power set. The vampiric mutant went from genetic experiment to renown superhuman psychiatrist and White Queen of the illustrious Hellfire Club.
Xenon's question garnered a winsome smile. "No, I don't recall ever visiting this country. As for it being the best, I can take your word for it or you could regale me."
A kingly smiled decorated the monarch's lips as he comfortably leaned back into the golden throne, his dark forearms rest upon the sides as he turned his head in a regal manner, silently stroking his hairless chin. "You are quite bold, Dr Steele, asking a King to entertain you." Gently chuckling, his smile grew into a noble smirk. “Makes one wonder, what type of woman you are. A highborn one perhaps, or are you just naturally demanding?” Of course he was joking, and his face highlighted the jest with a calm, modest smile. “Well Xandra, I offer each inhabitant within my country free healthcare, housing, education, and well,” He shrugged, almost unsure what to say. “A utopia, the ideal paradise where mutant’s can live freely without being judged or abused by humanity, there is truly no other nation on Earth which is so perfect. Nor is a there a King, so wise.” His eyes flashed with a tinge of crimson, coaxing her to speak. “So tell me Xandra, who are you, apart from your obvious allure and psionic potency, why do you stand out from the common mutant?”
@xenon_: Her ice blue eyes narrowed slightly in a snarky expression as she folded her arms over her chest. "I could be both. If I demanded nothing of you it could mean one of two things: I don't find you interesting enough to bother or I think you are incapable of meeting demands. What you might see as brazen and assertive, I see as complimentary." She winked before listening to his explanation. Then Alexandra was aware of a change in his eyes as he asked a more probing question. The doctor was careful with her thoughts and words as she responded. "Do I stand out? Perhaps it is my refined genome. I was not born in the conventional way, I was bred and genetically manipulated to be as perfect as science could allow. The result is the fine specimen you see before you." Xandra placed her hands on her hips, turning slightly to the side and arching her back in a sleek pose to show off her shapely form.
"Maybe I prefer assertive women," He suggestively replied, and in truth, he did, being King was a rather dull life sometimes. It grew rather lackluster when everybody around you was too afraid to speak out in fear of upsetting a King. It was uncommon for a man, let alone a woman, to demand anything from Xenon. Least of all entertainment. “Do you stand out? Xandra, I don’t think you need me to state the obvious,” He grinned, “and we both know that beauty surpasses physical merit, no matter how flawless one may be." He gave her shapely figure a quick gaze, overtly implying her, but in truth he had often thought intellect rather more important than exterior perfection. Nonetheless, there was nothing wrong with having both.
"I was not born a King, I was born a slave, and through my own genome, I was able to cultivate this life for myself..." A smile, and then he stood, stepping away from the golden throne and aristocratically clasping his palms behind of his back. "Let us walk," He offered, unclasping his palms and offering her his hand, "Even though this is not my real home, I'm sure my marvelous mind can memorize each and every impeccable detail and give you a tour." The King chuckled. "Unless you are already bored of me," He winked, the first wink he had offered in at least seven months to anybody, and it made him feel strangely like a true King, being proud of himself, and not overly modest as per his usual custom.
@xenon_: "Well, then. I can assure you that you are in good company." She listened to his rags to riches story. Xandra might have been less interested if superpowers weren't involved. That made her curious. How exactly had he ascended to kingship? Xenon extended a hand to her which she took gingerly with her gloved fingers, chuckling softly at the thought she was bored of him. "Trust me, as a firmly assertive and demanding woman, I will let you know when I'm bored." She grinned at him. She gathered both from the way he spoke and carried himself as well as what he spoke that nobility was not natural for him. As a psychiatrist, she knew something about the alienation of fame and power. This king was inherently humble and preferred to be treated respectfully and more equally. Perhaps he was lonely. As such she withheld his title. "By all means, lead on, Xenon."
The Mistress of the Mind was strangely correct. Xenon, a slave ascended to a King, had never felt more alone. He had hundreds of trusted advisers and multiple friends within Venezuela. But he had never felt companionship nor particularly close to anybody within his own country. He was a foreigner through in throughout, and was never challenged. He was never questioned, he was never treated equally. Xenon had had a polarizing life. Once a slave who was powerless, and now a King with too much power, and both times, he was alienated from society. “You are a most wonderful woman, Xandra,” He praised, gently taking her soft hand as he guided them through the throne room and out of the imposing doorway, he quickly let go and placing his palms onto his belt, Xenon looked from left to right, and then gazed back towards the White Queen. “Are your humble guide I shall ask, what direction? If anything goes wrong…” He grinned, knowing both side’s harboured lavish rooms and alluring sights. “…At least this way, I can blame you.” Cheekily stating, knowing anything could lurk behind those walls, considering this was not actually his home.
@xenon_: Her lids lowered knowingly over her brilliant blue eyes. "I know." Xandra smirked haughtily toward the monarch. "Well, she considered the direction as a king and my lovely host, I would have thrust the initiative back on you, but I suppose I feel strangely drawn to the left of the kingdom." Incidentally, Xenon was on her left. Even the most cunning of telepaths could get lost in the carefully constructed, dual meaning of her words.
"I was about to say the same about the right," He artfully replied, curling his lips into a sophisticated smirk and guiding the two scientists through the halls, having chosen the left, and simply keeping a leisurely pace. "I don't suppose you're one for paintings?" He replied with a little smile, leading them into the artistry room, a room, not often visited by Xenon himself. But he understood it's allure. Standing by the doorway and folding his arms, he casually rest upon the side, peering inside. "Paintings have never captured my attention. Not really, I prefer other beauties," His dark eyes cryptically drift over to Xandra, "don't you agree?"
@xenon_: "Hm." A chuckle resonated in her slender throat as the man caught her meaning. The doctor was led into a room of portraits. Her inquisitive crystal blue eyes took in the exquisite sights more interested in what the collection of paintings could tell her about the possessor than the actual quality of the works which was undeniable. "I have a taste for beautiful things, truly." She turned to him with a sly smile. "But Plato would call them a copy of a copy. Nothing purely visible can fully compare to the beauty of more well-rounded experience of the essence. Art is not just paint on a canvas but an expression, a soul. And truly, there are more enjoyable ways of achieving a greater level of artistic satisfaction. Perception comes in many forms. A sight." Her eyes twinkled mysteriously. "A smell, a sound, a taste... a touch." Xandra stroked the layers of his armour with silken fingers.
The expansive collection of paintings decoratively displayed famous battles throughout history and more prominently, the pictures of how Venezuela once looked, and how it looked now. Once a ruined nuclear wasteland – And now, one of the worlds most refined Utopias. Other paintings displayed various abstract art and rich pictures of landscapes. All, however, were outright bested in beauty by the Mistress of the Mind, her tantalizing touch causing the King’s hairs to stand on end as though war had been declared upon his kingdom, and with a delicate touch, the Maestro slid his dark hand down and gently grasped her own, chivalrously planting a tender kiss upon her gloved hand, his dark, mystifying eyes gazed towards Xandra.
“Artistic satisfaction indeed, Doctor Steele,” Charmingly, he smiled, and continued. “Come to Venezuela with me, you want rest and recovery, yes? As I said, there is no better medicine than fun…” The allusive undertones of his words were unspoken, but it was rather obvious to his intention. “And I’m sure such a beautiful, intellectual woman such as yourself relishes at the notion of living in the most technologically advanced nation known to man,” Whether these words were true mattered not, his home was more advanced than any in the western world. “I’ll even spoil you, I am a King.” He didn't wink, he didn't offer any overt playful flirtation, for he was royalty, and every word which radiated from his lips emanated magnificence.
@the_psyentist: Although it was as close as possible to a "natural" environment for a being such as he, the Demon of Silence had paid the astral plane little attention, in recent times. Possessing the warden of Alcatraz had provided him with a veritable buffet of dark energy to feast upon, and between that and the time necessary to keep up appearances as his host body's identity, the realm of thoughts and dreams had been free of his predations.
However, the sudden presence of a number of exceptionally powerful minds had created psychic ripples which could not be ignored. The fact that these minds all seemed to be focused upon a single, potent presence simply made the incident all the more intriguing, and worthy of investigation. Manifesting before the mind of Dr. Alexandra Steele, the Demon opted for the direct approach; after all, what had he to fear here? Here, he was king.
@xenon_: Alexandra smiled, very pleased with the offer. "Yes... I see Venezuela is ripe with opportunity. I belong among such a vast mutant populous. There is much good to be done. As soon as I have recovered more fully from the mental injuries I have sustained, I have every intention of taking you up on that offer, Xenon. If there's one thing I've learned in my years, it's that a king always needs a queen. I have a special touch that would be advantageous to your regime. Not only am I skilled at analyzing and helping superhumans with their emotional needs, I was a headmistress once. I know how to tap into the potential of mutant children and give them a better control over their powers. I have a savvy mind, one that could be of great use to you." She tilted her head to let her response settle with him. She had plans for this great nation.
@inner_demon: The woman in white stared at the hulking creature of darkness before her. He was... familiar. There was pain and fear and uncertainty in his shadow. And such power. It made her red lips curl into a fanged grin hungrily. "I recognize you. You were the mysterious entity who tortured my dear Jean. His mind is no longer alone, so I would suggest no longer invading his mind. I am the Psyentist, the Mistress of the Mind, and I am not one to be trifled with. But... there's also such a scent about you." Her eyes narrowed. "What have you done with Abigail?" She was curious about the king of nightmares. Perhaps they were not so different. Perhaps he might be of use to her.
"Alexandra," He coolly chuckled, "this is not a job interview - it was an invitation." Smiling, he truthfully was impressed at her impromptu explanation and clearly understood how beneficial any type of affiliation would be with the woman. Least of all this, and quickly, the monarch offered her a sincere smile, getting lost as he gazed into her icy eyes, who was she, really? It had been less than a few hours since they had met. “Not of use to me, but of use to my citizens, funnily enough, I was once a Headmaster of my own mutant Academy,” He casually nodded, finding the similarities rather uncanny.
“Not that it lasted, I was…Killed,” He rolled his eyes, “But even death was unable to hold my ambitions, and so, here I am…” Taking her hand, a purple portal manifested behind the Maestro. “The next time I see you, Dr Steele, I shall indulge you in the tale of my rise to power, and in every other way you wish,” Blowing her a smooth, warmhearted kiss, the Mutant King stepped back into the portal and vanished, quickly causing the mental fortress to cascade around the Mistress of the Mind and revert back to the warm beach.
“Well that was unexpected.” Hechuckled, strolling to his golden throne and gazing at one of his servants as he sat down. He looked at the empty space beside his own throne, and back to the servant. “I think we’re going to need to construct a second chair, my friend, go get the architect.” And with that little affair completed, the Maestro felt a very real, genuinely happy smile adorn his features for the first time in his life. He had finally found happiness, and he only hoped it would last.
“Well that was unexpected.” Hechuckled, strolling to his golden throne and gazing at one of his servants as he sat down. He looked at the empty space beside his own throne, and back to the servant. And with that little affair completed, the Maestro felt a very real, genuinely happy smile adorn his features for the first time in his life. He had finally found happiness, and he only hoped it would last.
Alexandra arched a brow with intrigue. "Killed? Well, I certainly look forward to that tale. Our similarities seem endless as I was more or less killed as well, summoning the demise of my school. It seems we were destined to meet." She nodded with a sweet smile to his farewell kiss. "We'll meet again, Xenon, for that I am certain. Good day to you until then."
As the scene changed, the intellectual beauty sat down to ponder. So many pieces were falling into place, and she hadn't even begun the game.
@the_psyentist: Her words brought a twisted rictus of a smile to the Demon's own inhuman visage. Clearly this one was possessed of no meager amount of power, herself. Her apparent lack of concern for his sudden appearance his side, the ability to pick two such specific strains f energy from his opaque aura was impressive,to say the least. "Then I bid you greetings, Psyentist. I am the Demon of Silence, and indeed, it was I who...helped dear Jean to connect with his inner shadow. You needn't fret; it is obvious that his mind is now in sufficiently capable hands. As for sweet Abigail, the short answer is that I seem to have lost her, so it appears that we have something in common."He cocked his head to the side as he regarded her. "You have been drawing quite a few distinctive minds to yours, of late. An outside observer might be inclined to conclude that you are seeking something...perhaps allies or information?"
@inner_demon: "Hm..." She rested gloved finger on her chin pensively. "If anyone can draw young Abigail out, it's me. I was her mentor once upon a time. I might be once more. As for what I seek, perhaps both information and allies. I intent to wreak vengeance upon those who stole what was most dear to me since my untimely demise." The psionic mutant eyed the creature intently. "You seem to draw negative emotions to you like a black hole. I can feel them swirl about you, the minds of the less fortunate. This means our goals may be in alignment. I wish to destroy my enemies physically in one case but mentally and emotionally in another. But it would clash with my aura of goodness that I worked hard to manifest. I'm the hero now. I am in need of a villain."
@the_psyentist: The hulking being folded his arms, tapping a clawed finger against his chin thoughtfully. In truth, the opportunity to inflict suffering upon others, particularly beings potent enough to have made enemies of this dangerous woman and survive, was simply too good to pass up. The recovery of one of his favorite pawns simply sweetened the deal. "I do believe that such an alliance would be to my liking. It is done, then. I will be monster that allows you to maintain your saintly facade, in exchange for helping poor Abigail to find her way home to her rightful master."He grinned malevolently. "So then, how would you like my chaos to be directed?"
@inner_demon: Her icy blue eyes shifted mischievously as a sinister smile spread over her face. "The Hellfire Club needs to be softened to my heroic rise. There is a clique there I wish to disrupt. I need to meet with Andres and Mercy to know how to proceed. I need my presence, my involvement, to be a soothing salve to the club. Andres was my love once. His love will make him soft. Her love will make her jealous of her friend who was so closely linked with him during the battle. They were lovers once, I believe. Yet still so close? I want his poor lover to be wracked with grief, driving her closer to him, alienating her from everyone but him... and soon me. I have plans, pieces already in place. I'm sure a being of your psionic prowess could think of a unique but subtle mayhem to unleash."
@the_psyentist: The Demon bowed in a mock-theatrical fashion. "As it happens, grief is something of a specialty of mine. It shall be done, then. She will know suffering and anguish as few human minds ever have." The image of the Demon began to fade, withdrawing into the plane's aether. "I will be...in touch." With that, it was gone.
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