(no subject)
Several calls went out very late tonight from a pay phone outside of a gas station in Westchester. Voicemails were left. Other calls will likely be made in the future, but for now, there are these three.
***
Raven...it's Erik.
Though technology these days is indeed wondrous in the sheer range of its capability and application, I must confess that I did not anticipate that I would be having this conversation with your voice mailbox.
As such, I will keep it short.
I do not know what has happened. I have never really felt this way, until now. Hopeless at times, perhaps. Unmotivated. This is something different.
Nevermind. I have missed you. I have missed everything. I still do. I am sorry things have happened as they have, but I do not think I would change anything I have done, save perhaps that I might have kept more to myself. Given the opportunity.
I have seen what I am capable of. I have felt it. I am that Magneto, in addition to being the one that you know.
It is complicated. Also, not at all relevant to this conversation...
I don't know why I am doing this, really. I told Charles that I would, some months ago. There is something in that. After everything that has happened, he can still find it in himself to trust my word. The word of Magneto.
I do not want to. If I had said anything else. If I had said, "Perhaps," or, "I will think about it."
Maybe it is time for everything to end. I wish that it would. I wish that I had said, "No." This society is not worth saving.
I should not have called you first.
...I hope you are well. I hope that you have not changed your number, though it might be wise for you to change it now, all things considered. I trust you will know what to do, should this last attempt fail.
Some items have been left in the care of our mutual friend, Mr. B. My helmet, and my uniform. I thought of burning them, but could not. Charles is rubbing off on me, I think. They are only things, after all. Such weakness does not become me.
Achilles will be left with the school. He does not like your cat.
...
I believe that is all.
Goodbye, Raven.
***
Christopher. Hello. I have not spoken to you in some time. To be entirely honest, I have been holding a grudge.
You see, for a short time, I adopted a false identity, which I later revealed to you, trusting that the many times I have saved your pathetic life would be worth the protection of one harmless secret.
But no. You overreacted, and I had to call a telepath to come and scrape the occurrence from your memory -- which, by the way, is a course of action that I loathe more deeply than murder -- to ensure your silence. I would probably feel worse about it if you had not already gotten yourself into similar situations on multiple occasions. Should you survive the coming apocalypse, I highly recommend that you invest in a telepathic dampener while you still retain some measure of actual history within your thick skull. Imbecile.
All of that aside, I think, for a human hell bent on protecting a system that is flawed beyond help, you could be worse. High praise, from a man who would like nothing more than to watch every last member of your species burn black in the bowels of a giant, fiery pit.
Well.
I suppose that is all. Try not to die pointlessly for someone who isn't worth it. Most people are not.
***
Toad. I do not know if you have a phone at all. Much less if you are still operating at this number.
I hope that you are still alive. A Mr. B may be trying to contact you soon about some personal items, if you are.
I do not really know what to say. I am sorry things have happened as they have. The Brotherhood should have been more than it was. I should have been more than I was. For you, and every other mutant that will have to deal with the aftermath of whatever is going to happen. You may never have been the most upright, most powerful, or most intelligent of our number, but you did deserve better.
As for what will happen, should worst come to worst, if you can bring yourself to beg, I suspect Charles may allow you to hide away with him and his children. So long as you are polite.
That is, of course, assuming that you have not already found some dark hole to hide in. I sincerely hope that you have, for both of your sakes.
Should the apocalypse occur, I trust that you will do the intelligent thing and kill any humans that manage to survive as swiftly as possible. You might use a few of them for breeding purposes if our numbers are low enough. Mr. B should have some information that will be of assistance in that arena as well.
I...believe that is all.
Best of luck, Mortimer.
I hope things end better for you than they began.
***
Raven...it's Erik.
Though technology these days is indeed wondrous in the sheer range of its capability and application, I must confess that I did not anticipate that I would be having this conversation with your voice mailbox.
As such, I will keep it short.
I do not know what has happened. I have never really felt this way, until now. Hopeless at times, perhaps. Unmotivated. This is something different.
Nevermind. I have missed you. I have missed everything. I still do. I am sorry things have happened as they have, but I do not think I would change anything I have done, save perhaps that I might have kept more to myself. Given the opportunity.
I have seen what I am capable of. I have felt it. I am that Magneto, in addition to being the one that you know.
It is complicated. Also, not at all relevant to this conversation...
I don't know why I am doing this, really. I told Charles that I would, some months ago. There is something in that. After everything that has happened, he can still find it in himself to trust my word. The word of Magneto.
I do not want to. If I had said anything else. If I had said, "Perhaps," or, "I will think about it."
Maybe it is time for everything to end. I wish that it would. I wish that I had said, "No." This society is not worth saving.
I should not have called you first.
...I hope you are well. I hope that you have not changed your number, though it might be wise for you to change it now, all things considered. I trust you will know what to do, should this last attempt fail.
Some items have been left in the care of our mutual friend, Mr. B. My helmet, and my uniform. I thought of burning them, but could not. Charles is rubbing off on me, I think. They are only things, after all. Such weakness does not become me.
Achilles will be left with the school. He does not like your cat.
...
I believe that is all.
Goodbye, Raven.
***
Christopher. Hello. I have not spoken to you in some time. To be entirely honest, I have been holding a grudge.
You see, for a short time, I adopted a false identity, which I later revealed to you, trusting that the many times I have saved your pathetic life would be worth the protection of one harmless secret.
But no. You overreacted, and I had to call a telepath to come and scrape the occurrence from your memory -- which, by the way, is a course of action that I loathe more deeply than murder -- to ensure your silence. I would probably feel worse about it if you had not already gotten yourself into similar situations on multiple occasions. Should you survive the coming apocalypse, I highly recommend that you invest in a telepathic dampener while you still retain some measure of actual history within your thick skull. Imbecile.
All of that aside, I think, for a human hell bent on protecting a system that is flawed beyond help, you could be worse. High praise, from a man who would like nothing more than to watch every last member of your species burn black in the bowels of a giant, fiery pit.
Well.
I suppose that is all. Try not to die pointlessly for someone who isn't worth it. Most people are not.
***
Toad. I do not know if you have a phone at all. Much less if you are still operating at this number.
I hope that you are still alive. A Mr. B may be trying to contact you soon about some personal items, if you are.
I do not really know what to say. I am sorry things have happened as they have. The Brotherhood should have been more than it was. I should have been more than I was. For you, and every other mutant that will have to deal with the aftermath of whatever is going to happen. You may never have been the most upright, most powerful, or most intelligent of our number, but you did deserve better.
As for what will happen, should worst come to worst, if you can bring yourself to beg, I suspect Charles may allow you to hide away with him and his children. So long as you are polite.
That is, of course, assuming that you have not already found some dark hole to hide in. I sincerely hope that you have, for both of your sakes.
Should the apocalypse occur, I trust that you will do the intelligent thing and kill any humans that manage to survive as swiftly as possible. You might use a few of them for breeding purposes if our numbers are low enough. Mr. B should have some information that will be of assistance in that arena as well.
I...believe that is all.
Best of luck, Mortimer.
I hope things end better for you than they began.