Police Brutality
Feb 21, 2016 19:51:33 GMT
Post by Mystique on Feb 21, 2016 19:51:33 GMT
Margot Rose sat in her car for a moment considering the house in front of her. Not exactly a mansion, but one of those two story cookie cutters in a subdivision with a homeowner's association and lots of upper middle class yuppies.
It would have bored her to tears, and she couldn't imagine how John could stand it either.
In a few quick steps, she was ringing the doorbell.
The door opened and St. John Allerdyce looked just as she remembered. Blonde pretty boy with just enough of a hard edge you could believe he'd seen some things people didn't want to know about.
"Good morning Miss Rose," he said, with just the hint of an accent. South Australia. "Come on in. Maybe you'd like a cup of tea? Or something a bit stronger?"
"No, thank you, Mr. Allerdyce," she said, following him into an office dominated by a writing desk.
"You weren't too forthcoming on the phone, but when I hear 'opportunity of a lifetime' I figure I can spare a few to hear you out."
"Indeed." Margot looked around the office, contemplated a shelf along one wall, picking up an award she didn't really read. Something related to journalism. The name said James Marshall.
"What kind of opportunity we talking about here?" He asked.
"A reunion." Mystique reverted to her natural form, and smiled.
John was instantly on the defensive. "Now listen up love, I told you when I left I was done. I got a good thing goin here and you're not gonna cock it all up."
"I didn't come here to fight, John. Though you know I'm always willing of that's where you decide this is going. The Brotherhood needs you, John, and we're going to have you, one way or the other. I don't know how you can bear the boredom and repetition this life. I've read your work John, and its awful."
"Because this boredom doesn't get me locked up for terrorism, or killed by Apocalypse, or my brain turned to pudding by Xavier. You and Erik with your schemes and your grand ideals. Where's he now Raven? Some hospital with bed sores and smellin like piss, or did you scatter him on the Atlantic like the last one you got killed?"
"Leave them out of this!" Mystique snapped, throwing the plaque in her hand at his head.
He ducked, turning to watch it break on the wall behind him. "Get out of my house. And Mystique love, lose my number."
"If that's your final word..." She said, resigned. He'd made his choice. He nodded.
She turned and headed for the door. He didn't follow. It was John Allerdyce, or a facsimile of him, which stepped outside. No doubt he watched in horror as she stepped into the street, threw something at the house across the way, and the entire front of the building exploded into a wall of flame.
She waited a bit, turned and smiled, waving at another neighbor who came to the window with a phone in her hand, and went back inside.
"The fuck are you doing?" The moment she was in the door, he was on her, his arm pinning her to the wall by the throat. Margot Rose smirked back at him.
"Hostage situations never end well. You'll need this." She held up a lighter. "I really am sorry John. I'd rather have you hate me than waste your talents like this. You know as well as I this was going to happen anyway. Your cover was going to collapse, only without me, they'd put you in a hole and throw away the hole. I can disappear us and we can get back to work."
"I said I'm out and I meant it ya yellow eyed mongrel." He pushed away from her and paced down the hall.
"Then I'll extend this offer again through prison bars. I hope I can get you out of where they put you. Average response time is three minutes, so you've got maybe two before the boys in blue decide for you. I can wait."
"I really do hate you," he said, but she was right. She was his best chance at staying on the outside of the bars.
It would have bored her to tears, and she couldn't imagine how John could stand it either.
In a few quick steps, she was ringing the doorbell.
The door opened and St. John Allerdyce looked just as she remembered. Blonde pretty boy with just enough of a hard edge you could believe he'd seen some things people didn't want to know about.
"Good morning Miss Rose," he said, with just the hint of an accent. South Australia. "Come on in. Maybe you'd like a cup of tea? Or something a bit stronger?"
"No, thank you, Mr. Allerdyce," she said, following him into an office dominated by a writing desk.
"You weren't too forthcoming on the phone, but when I hear 'opportunity of a lifetime' I figure I can spare a few to hear you out."
"Indeed." Margot looked around the office, contemplated a shelf along one wall, picking up an award she didn't really read. Something related to journalism. The name said James Marshall.
"What kind of opportunity we talking about here?" He asked.
"A reunion." Mystique reverted to her natural form, and smiled.
John was instantly on the defensive. "Now listen up love, I told you when I left I was done. I got a good thing goin here and you're not gonna cock it all up."
"I didn't come here to fight, John. Though you know I'm always willing of that's where you decide this is going. The Brotherhood needs you, John, and we're going to have you, one way or the other. I don't know how you can bear the boredom and repetition this life. I've read your work John, and its awful."
"Because this boredom doesn't get me locked up for terrorism, or killed by Apocalypse, or my brain turned to pudding by Xavier. You and Erik with your schemes and your grand ideals. Where's he now Raven? Some hospital with bed sores and smellin like piss, or did you scatter him on the Atlantic like the last one you got killed?"
"Leave them out of this!" Mystique snapped, throwing the plaque in her hand at his head.
He ducked, turning to watch it break on the wall behind him. "Get out of my house. And Mystique love, lose my number."
"If that's your final word..." She said, resigned. He'd made his choice. He nodded.
She turned and headed for the door. He didn't follow. It was John Allerdyce, or a facsimile of him, which stepped outside. No doubt he watched in horror as she stepped into the street, threw something at the house across the way, and the entire front of the building exploded into a wall of flame.
She waited a bit, turned and smiled, waving at another neighbor who came to the window with a phone in her hand, and went back inside.
"The fuck are you doing?" The moment she was in the door, he was on her, his arm pinning her to the wall by the throat. Margot Rose smirked back at him.
"Hostage situations never end well. You'll need this." She held up a lighter. "I really am sorry John. I'd rather have you hate me than waste your talents like this. You know as well as I this was going to happen anyway. Your cover was going to collapse, only without me, they'd put you in a hole and throw away the hole. I can disappear us and we can get back to work."
"I said I'm out and I meant it ya yellow eyed mongrel." He pushed away from her and paced down the hall.
"Then I'll extend this offer again through prison bars. I hope I can get you out of where they put you. Average response time is three minutes, so you've got maybe two before the boys in blue decide for you. I can wait."
"I really do hate you," he said, but she was right. She was his best chance at staying on the outside of the bars.