(no subject)
Very, very interesting.
His name is Derek. And he'll be joining the Brotherhood soon. I will...definitely have to keep my eye on this one. Fortunately, he's easy on the eyes.
It's almost quitting time for most of the employees here at SE. However, not so for Toxin and the secretary that she and Sabella share. Tonight is a night for working late, for this weekend is Easter and that means not only several concerts, but sporting events. Not to mention the many many chemicals Tox can ship out with all the hullabaloo going on in the city. One must use these small advantages. She sits on the phone, twirling the cord in her hand. Dressed in a black pinstripe suit and pumps, although the skirt is rather shorter than is usual, Toxin looks the picture perfect co-CEO of Succubus.
The secretary is not precisely sure that Derek has legitimate business, but as she comes in to check, Derek makes a concerted effort to be visible just behind her. "There's a Derek Johnson to see you?" she asks rather hesitantly when given half a chance. "Says he wanted to continue a discussion?" Derek is in a grey three piece suit today, with a matching tie and a red corner of a handkerchief in his breast pocket. His mirrored sunglasses appear to be a relative constant.
Toxin can easily spot Derek behind her secretary, and nods at the woman. "It's fine, Linda. Show him in, would you? And close the door, he's a client." A lie, but her secretary doesn't need to know that. A soft smile graces her features as she watches Derek come in, and she motions for him to have a seat. "Please, sit. I'm surprised that you went to the trouble to find me." she murmurs, rising from her seat and offering Derek her hand, this time encased in an off-white leather glove.
Derek enters smoothly, giving a polite nod to the secretary as they pass at the doorway. Again, Derek takes Toxin's hand and lowers his head to kiss her fingers, figuring that if she's still offering him her hand, it must not have gone over too badly last time. "Well, I've been waiting for our mutual aquaintance to get in touch with me again. In the mean time, since I seem to have stumbled across someone who knows him better than I do, I might as well at least assuage as much curiosity as I can." He pauses. "Plus, who /wouldn't/ want to see the inner workings of Succubus Entertainment?"
Toxin can't help but be sweet to Derek for the moment. He's being such a gentleman. "I assure you I know him better than you do, but I may or may not answer your questions. He prefers to maintain a certain...anonymity at times." A glance around the office, and she smirks slightly. "Well, here it is. Succubus Entertainments at it's best. And worst, for that matter. But I'm being rude...can I offer you a drink?"
"Wouldn't mind one," Derek agrees. "Scotch, if it's convenient. And you do have a lovely set of offices, so far as I've seen." He glances back at the door. "I take it we're as free as we may be to speak candidly?"
Toxin rises from her desk and heads around Derek to the small refrigerator and bar. "Do you take it on the rocks, with water, or straight?" she queries, then nods back at him as she bend over to retrieve the bottle from the cabinet. "Perfectly. Unlike most of the building, there are no cameras or listening devices in here." Tugging out two bottles, one with a clear liquid and the other obviously Scotch, she digs in the bar once more for glasses.
"On the rocks, given the choice," Derek begins with the prosaic. There follows a brief pause as he considers how to begin. It is, after all, something of a delicate subject, despite the fact that he's entirely inclined to believe Toxin's assessment of their situation. "Stacia Ellison." Another pause. "Does Magneto call you by another name?" Derek is never very expressive, and he seems to be playing his cards close to his chest for the moment.
Turning towards the refrigerator, Toxin dumps several pieces of ice into Derek's glass, and something else. A tiny vial of liquid, colorless and tasteless. It's unlikely he'll notice it, and for about the next hour if she does accidentally touch him, it won't kill him. Filling his with Scotch, and hers with vodka, she carries the drinks back to her desk, handing Derek his. She doesn't sit behind her desk again, instead perching on the edge of it and crossing her legs. "He does. You may call me Toxin." she finally answers, taking a sip of her vodka and watching him over the rim, her gold-green eyes piercing.
Derek's eyes drift to Toxin's legs as they cross. Concentrating or not...Mmm. Legs and a short skirt. He takes an unsuspecting sip out of his glass before she says her name. Then he thinks to eye his drink. Well, he's already taken a sip. "Toxin. Suggestive name. I haven't come up with one yet. But in the interest of fair exchange..." The hand holding his glass lowers, but the glass hovers in the air for a moment before his hand raises again to reclaim it. It would almost be possible not to realize what just happened for a moment if one were not paying attention. "He told me I have a week to get my affairs in order and either join him or vanish thoroughly. I was seeking him out, so naturally, he found me first."
Toxin notes the glance he gives his drink, and shakes her head. "My dear Derek, if I had wanted you dead, you would already be that way, I assure you. You have my word that there's nothing in there that will harm you." Odd choice of words, but it's the truth, nontheless. She tilts her head to one side, being sharp enough to catch the floating glass. "Impressive. I'd give you a demonstration of mine, but that would...be uncomfortable for us both, I should think. In the interest of being honest, let me tell you that my real name is not Stacia Ellison. I prefer to be called that in public, though." She smiles at him again, and if you look close, one might notice that her canines are a bit sharper than is normal. An eyebrow arches, and she nods. "In that case, I suggest you get your affairs in order. There isn't a place on this planet that you can go where we can't find you."
Derek nods first; he'd already figured that Toxin wasn't going to do him any harm if Magneto hadn't already decided to off him. An eyebrow arches in the end. "No, I didn't imagine it would be easy to vanish. I'm not exactly non-descript, either. But if you're handing out his jobs, then you're working for him." 'cause, well, Magneto could turn the building into a twisted pile of rubble any time he might so choose. "I've read a lot about him, and some of it's gotta be bull. So I want to know whether working for him is as advertised."
Toxin chuckles softly. "Working for him doesn't exactly describe it, but it will do for now. And I imagine I could find you wherever you went." she murmurs, twirling the liquid in her glass for a minute before answering his next statement. "To get an answer to that, you'll have to be more specific. Often what the media writes is written out of fear. And if you respect him, you have no need to fear."
Derek mms and nods sagely. "Working with him, at the least," he adjusts his definitions slightly, if not his perspective. "The media thrives off sensationalism, I know. But I presume it's fair to call him...what was it...a 'militant activist for mutant rights'?"
"That's a...fair assessment. We, as mutants, have an inalienable right to go about as ourselves and not have to worry about being shot in the streets, simply because we were born. Our designation, homo superior, is particularly apt. The humans must realize that we are indeed superior." Toxin replies, taking another sip out of her vodka and watching his reaction before she continues. "If it was you seeking out Magneto, you must feel this already. The injustice. Or were you, perhaps, looking for some side benefits? Of working with one as powerful as he?"
Derek is always difficult to read, but there's a subtle lifting his chin and a gleam in his eye as Toxin describes the theory of mutant superiority. It clearly resonates. "If I wanted side benefits, I'd be trying to get into pro football and passing for normal," he replies. "But damned if I'm going to sit on the sidelines of this fight."
Toxin can't help but smirk at that statement. "You could do both, you know. Live the star's life and work on our side as well. Look at me. The entire world, save for a few, thinks that I'm human and a simple businesswoman. It's the other side of my life that fascinates me." She leans forward, setting her glass on the desk and propping her elbows on her knees, her chin supported by her hands. "And are you truly prepared to fight on the front lines?"
Derek's eyes are intense and chilling. He doesn't blink very much. "I just spent eight years in prison," he replies. "The world in there is organized by gangs, and I've come to think the world out here is, too. So you find yourself the right gang. I think it's Magneto's. And yes. If I throw in my lot with him, I'd kill for him." And it doesn't sound as though he'd hesitate on the order, either.
Toxin doesn't seem at all bothered by Derek's revelation. Instead, her eyes narrow, and they search him up and down. Finally, she nods, as if satisfied. "Good. That's settled, then. Two main rules you need to know about Magneto. One: Respect him, because he can kill you, and will. Two: Do not hesitate around him." she instructs, leaning back and finishing off her vodka. "You're not very thirsty." She slides off of the desk and heads back to the bar for herself.
Derek has rather forgotten his drink the course of their conversation and looks down at it, somewhat surprised that it's still in his hand. He raises it again and takes a sizable swig. "Some things are more important than scotch; and we are pretty much talking about the course of the rest of my life." Probably a conversation that'll prove to be of more importance to Derek than Toxin. "Those are rules I can live with." The corners of his eyes crinkle in what passes for a smile on Derek. "I noticed that he appreciated it when I called him 'sir'."
Oh, but that conversation will be of importance to Toxin. She keeps tabs on most of the juniors that come onto the island, at least for a few days. "Once you get to know him better, and have proved yourself, you won't need to call him sir all the time. But for now it's not a bad idea." She refills her glass and heads back to her previous position on her desk. One of the advantages to having a poison immunity is that you can't give yourself alcohol poisoning. "As for the course of the rest of your life, that remains to be seen. I was already heavily entrenched in Succubus when I met Magneto, and he hasn't argued with that facet of my life." she says in a cool tone. It's for a good reason, but nobody else needs to know that.
Derek nods slowly. "Hm. Does he normally whisk people away from their lives never to return? I get that impression from what he was saying about getting my affairs in order. And I gotta admit, there's only so far I can go to getting things in order; I'm on parole, and I've got no problem with saying 'fuck the system' and ditching, but it cuts down future options, you know? Even walking the street in the city, not like the cops won't notice me." Even without any obvious physical mutations, Derek stands out from a crowd. He lifts his glass again once he finishes explaining the dimensions of his problem and takes a slow sip, holding a small amount of scotch in his mouth to appreciate it before swallowing. More taste, less drunkenness.
Toxin shakes her head slowly. "You really aren't used to New York City yet, are you? A man could walk down the street in a polar bear costume in the middle of July and not attract a second glance. And in the places you'll roam once you join him, most people are going to ignore you for fear of getting on your bad side." She eyes him drinking the scotch, then nods and takes another sip of her own drink, swinging her legs back and forth. "And if the parole is what you have a problem with, there are ways of taking care of that. Bribes, computer glitches, et cetera."
"Depends on whether the police are looking for you or not," Derek counters. "Ain' no one else gonna fuck wit' me, true dat." For a moment, he slips into an accent that would sound right at home in a prison before he returns to more careful grammatical construction. "I haven't tried to bribe my parole officer yet. Huh. That'd pretty well cover it. Wasn't even thinkin' that...not sure he'd /take/ a bribe, though."
There's a tiny smile on Toxin's face as Derek 'slips up' in his conversation, but it's so slight and quick that it would be easy to miss. "People can be bribed, or persuaded if they're not interested in money. Files can be altered, or disappear altogether." Of course, she's suggesting that they could make his prison record just disappear. "As for you...I have to admit, Derek, the suit and demeanor just doesn't match what I would expect from someone who not only just got out of prison, but apparently thrived."
Derek snorts at that. "I didn't come from Harlem," he replies. "I came from suburbs, money, and a football scholarship at Syracuse. I figured out that the rules are different on the inside, and you hang wit'ch'own if you wanna survive. And in prison, color tells you where you can go." He shrugs. "So I did what had to do, an' I know a little somethin' about being an enforcer. But that's not who I want to now that I'm out again." He touches his jacket for a moment. "Have to admit, I'm living a little beyond my means, with these clothes, right now. But I'm not some stupid punk thug; I'm a smart upperclass thug."
Toxin laughs, a musical sound, soft as it is. "You won't be living beyond your means for long. Magneto takes care of his own, I assure you...and if you're really interested in a life on the outside once we clear up the little prison problem, I could offer you a job as a bodyguard. You certainly have the 'look at me wrong and I'll kick your ass' part down. I doubt, given Magneto's schedule for his employees, you'd have time for more than a part-time position, even if you were interested." she comments, taking a good look at the suit for just a minute, then nodding. "So do you really not have any problem with settling your affairs, and uprooting to wherever he may wish you to go, or even go underground if that's what Magneto wants?"
Derek's mouth twitches to the side at Toxin's question. "What kinda great thing do I have here, a job as a waiter?" He shrugs. "My parents cut the cord after I got put away, it's been less than a month since I got out; I've got no reason to stay here, 'cept that parole. An' truth be told, after the intro I had to Magneto, I wouldn' mind a chance to hone my skills. I ain' had much time and opportunity to really practice and see what I can do." Other than hold a glass of scotch in place, evidently. "I wouldn' mind being a bodyguard." His voice goes dry. "Got plenty of practice waiting around in prison."
"You'll get training, I assure you. In more than the honing of your powers. While I'm sure that you're already a fighter, you'll be better in a short time. Much better." Toxin allows a wry smile to drift along her features, her gold-green eyes narrowing. "In this camp, you have two choices: improve or be culled from the pack. I'm sure you can appreciate the necessity of such harshness. You should have no trouble, as long..." she pauses and wags a finger at him, much like a parent to a child. "As long as you mind your teachers."
Derek lets out an amused 'hmf'. "I'm pretty good in a fight, but I've got no training," he acknowledges. "Definitely wouldn't hurt me to pick up some genuine martial arts." He lifts one eyebrow expressively. "I'm not afraid of a little competition. And I don't mind not bein' in charge, as long as I'm somewhere on the same page as the folks that are. Part of why I got so many questions for you -- an' I keep thinkin' more an' more that I was right to pick this crew to run wit'."
Toxin shrugs. "With your size, you'd probably be more suited to grappling than martial arts. But you can learn both, if you really want." A soft snort follows, and the woman seems more than amused for just a minute. "Competition is what you'll get, then. There's always something going on, whether it's an actual contest or just competition to get Magneto's attention. And keep asking, I haven't found any questions yet that I'm completely unwilling to answer."
"Well, I was thinkin' judo more than kung fu," Derek interjects briefly. More of a grappling martial than muscular one. "Wouldn't hurt to learn both, though." He pauses for a minute. Well, given a golden opportunity like this, he shouldn't waste the questions, especially not if he's gonna go underground with Magneto and Toxin's going to be staying here. Except that he's already asked most of the ones that were really burning to get off his chest. "Huh...okay. How 'bout...what's happening about this Mutant Registration Act shit?"
Toxin grins at him, nodding at the mention of the martial arts specialties. "As I said, you'll learn what you need to learn. To survive. And dominate." At the question about the Act, she falls into thought for several moments, for so long that an uncomfortable person might wonder if she was going to answer at all. "The Registration act is simply something that we must put up with for now. Many of the people under Magneto's command live...'off the grid', you might call it. For them, avoiding registration won't be a problem. For those of us who lead somewhat double lives, it will be more difficult. And Magneto, of course, is going to be registered without his consent, being a known mutant. But sooner or later, we'll deal with that. Now is just not the time." Of course, there's always the fact that Magneto has ordered them not to touch Lowe, and killing Lowe would pretty much kill the Act.
Unless Lowe were to be seen as a martyr to that particular cause, which could raise a whole host of other problems. Derek makes a small grimace, but nods. Toxin's silence is not enough to make him uncomfortable yet. "Mmm. Well, I'm glad I'm getting in before they get me on file again," he says dryly. "'s not like I have a brilliant plan to crash the act. Big part of the reason I want to be with people who make the big plans."
Toxin has to chuckle at that. It almost sounded like a compliment. "Big plans are only part of what we do. Most of the time, it's plans within plans, and small ones that fit together as a whole." She shrugs and looks around the office. "Honestly, it wouldn't bother me all that much to go on the list under my public name, because it would be all too easy for me to assume my real one again and disappear. I've done it before."
"Yes, but you'd have to give up this /lovely/ office," Derek deadpans. "I'm not so keen on trying that; don't think it'd work as well for me." He lifts his glass, remembering it once again, and polishes off the last of his scotch. "Plans within plans is fine with me. I could do a small plan, but I can't put together the big ones on my own, and it's that much better when the only plans I have to execute are the ones I'm especially suited for."
"It -is- pretty, isn't it? Although I have an even better one below." Toxin replies, her eyes dancing at the joke. She likes this Derek. Her hand raises and motions to his glass, a silent offer to refill it. "You won't be planning any at first, at least, I don't think you will. Magneto makes those decisions, and who knows, you might prove to be good at it."
Derek is happy to accept another glass and holds it forth for his hostess. Two glasses shouldn't be enough to make him stupidly relaxed, given his body mass. "Have to appreciate the finer things in life," he agrees. "Starting with art and alcohol." Which, presumably, is something a nod to the quality of scotch Toxin stocks. "Yeah, I'm gonna need a little experience," he admits a little ruefully. "Never really run anything out in the real world; was pretty much a straight shooter before I got hauled off to prisoner. Didn't know I was 'homo superior,' either."
Only the best alcohol will do for Toxin and her guests. Admittedly, she wouldn't be caught dead drinking the cheap stuff. Placing her glass on the desk, she retrieves his and heads for the bar to refill it. "Some of the best things in life resulted from one or the other. Or perhaps even a combination of the two." she remarks, handing him his scotch and hopping back up on the desk. A small laugh, and she shakes her head. "You're lucky in some ways, then. Most of our first experiences with our powers are...violent."
Derek's eyebrows arch and relax, and he hitches one shoulder as he enjoys his new glass. "I think I was using mine subconsciously in sporting events for years before I ever realized I could do anything like that on purpose," he admits. "I guess with a name like Toxin..." Derek trails off, letting the thought's trail be unspoken as he spots a clock, "Oh, shit. I'm gonna have to book outta here or I'm gonna be late for my job." The corners of his eyes crinkle with amusement. "And I haven't got the groundwork laid to go AWOL yet. Gonna have to split, but I'm very glad I tracked you down."
Toxin tilts her head to one side, and she looks interested in him finishing the thought about her, at least. However, her question about that will have to be curtailed. "Well, I suppose you should keep up that for a few more days, at least. I'd recommend just not showing up for work one day rather than actually giving them notice." Sliding off the desk, she chuckles and waits for him to stand. "You're welcome by anytime. And if you need help getting ready to move to Magneto's employ...let me know."
"Well, that'll depend on my parole status; they want you to have a job," Derek replies as he rises and polishes off his glass entirely too quickly for nice scotch. Still, not like there was anything else to do with it at this point. "Thank you. For the alcohol, the information and hell, just artistic appreciation." Of the room? Of her? The gleam in his eye suggests that he at least thought of the latter. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you. Toxin."
Toxin takes his glass and sets it on the desk, escorting him to the door. She stretches up and brushes her cheek against his, smiling. "I'd be happy to do it again." she replies. Ah, the fun of sentences with multiple meanings. "I'm quite sure we'll see each other again soon, Derek. In the meantime, do wrap up your affairs well." Because you're not going to be living in this city again for a long time. If ever.
Derek goes surprisingly tense as Toxin brushes her cheek against his; it does not actually make him flinch or move, but there is a light in his eyes when she draws back again. He blinks, slowly and deliberately, and manages to repress whatever caused it, at least for the moment. A deep breath steadies him. "Good evening to you," he wishes her, and moves to make his way out of the office and presumably to the Sweet Basil.
His name is Derek. And he'll be joining the Brotherhood soon. I will...definitely have to keep my eye on this one. Fortunately, he's easy on the eyes.
It's almost quitting time for most of the employees here at SE. However, not so for Toxin and the secretary that she and Sabella share. Tonight is a night for working late, for this weekend is Easter and that means not only several concerts, but sporting events. Not to mention the many many chemicals Tox can ship out with all the hullabaloo going on in the city. One must use these small advantages. She sits on the phone, twirling the cord in her hand. Dressed in a black pinstripe suit and pumps, although the skirt is rather shorter than is usual, Toxin looks the picture perfect co-CEO of Succubus.
The secretary is not precisely sure that Derek has legitimate business, but as she comes in to check, Derek makes a concerted effort to be visible just behind her. "There's a Derek Johnson to see you?" she asks rather hesitantly when given half a chance. "Says he wanted to continue a discussion?" Derek is in a grey three piece suit today, with a matching tie and a red corner of a handkerchief in his breast pocket. His mirrored sunglasses appear to be a relative constant.
Toxin can easily spot Derek behind her secretary, and nods at the woman. "It's fine, Linda. Show him in, would you? And close the door, he's a client." A lie, but her secretary doesn't need to know that. A soft smile graces her features as she watches Derek come in, and she motions for him to have a seat. "Please, sit. I'm surprised that you went to the trouble to find me." she murmurs, rising from her seat and offering Derek her hand, this time encased in an off-white leather glove.
Derek enters smoothly, giving a polite nod to the secretary as they pass at the doorway. Again, Derek takes Toxin's hand and lowers his head to kiss her fingers, figuring that if she's still offering him her hand, it must not have gone over too badly last time. "Well, I've been waiting for our mutual aquaintance to get in touch with me again. In the mean time, since I seem to have stumbled across someone who knows him better than I do, I might as well at least assuage as much curiosity as I can." He pauses. "Plus, who /wouldn't/ want to see the inner workings of Succubus Entertainment?"
Toxin can't help but be sweet to Derek for the moment. He's being such a gentleman. "I assure you I know him better than you do, but I may or may not answer your questions. He prefers to maintain a certain...anonymity at times." A glance around the office, and she smirks slightly. "Well, here it is. Succubus Entertainments at it's best. And worst, for that matter. But I'm being rude...can I offer you a drink?"
"Wouldn't mind one," Derek agrees. "Scotch, if it's convenient. And you do have a lovely set of offices, so far as I've seen." He glances back at the door. "I take it we're as free as we may be to speak candidly?"
Toxin rises from her desk and heads around Derek to the small refrigerator and bar. "Do you take it on the rocks, with water, or straight?" she queries, then nods back at him as she bend over to retrieve the bottle from the cabinet. "Perfectly. Unlike most of the building, there are no cameras or listening devices in here." Tugging out two bottles, one with a clear liquid and the other obviously Scotch, she digs in the bar once more for glasses.
"On the rocks, given the choice," Derek begins with the prosaic. There follows a brief pause as he considers how to begin. It is, after all, something of a delicate subject, despite the fact that he's entirely inclined to believe Toxin's assessment of their situation. "Stacia Ellison." Another pause. "Does Magneto call you by another name?" Derek is never very expressive, and he seems to be playing his cards close to his chest for the moment.
Turning towards the refrigerator, Toxin dumps several pieces of ice into Derek's glass, and something else. A tiny vial of liquid, colorless and tasteless. It's unlikely he'll notice it, and for about the next hour if she does accidentally touch him, it won't kill him. Filling his with Scotch, and hers with vodka, she carries the drinks back to her desk, handing Derek his. She doesn't sit behind her desk again, instead perching on the edge of it and crossing her legs. "He does. You may call me Toxin." she finally answers, taking a sip of her vodka and watching him over the rim, her gold-green eyes piercing.
Derek's eyes drift to Toxin's legs as they cross. Concentrating or not...Mmm. Legs and a short skirt. He takes an unsuspecting sip out of his glass before she says her name. Then he thinks to eye his drink. Well, he's already taken a sip. "Toxin. Suggestive name. I haven't come up with one yet. But in the interest of fair exchange..." The hand holding his glass lowers, but the glass hovers in the air for a moment before his hand raises again to reclaim it. It would almost be possible not to realize what just happened for a moment if one were not paying attention. "He told me I have a week to get my affairs in order and either join him or vanish thoroughly. I was seeking him out, so naturally, he found me first."
Toxin notes the glance he gives his drink, and shakes her head. "My dear Derek, if I had wanted you dead, you would already be that way, I assure you. You have my word that there's nothing in there that will harm you." Odd choice of words, but it's the truth, nontheless. She tilts her head to one side, being sharp enough to catch the floating glass. "Impressive. I'd give you a demonstration of mine, but that would...be uncomfortable for us both, I should think. In the interest of being honest, let me tell you that my real name is not Stacia Ellison. I prefer to be called that in public, though." She smiles at him again, and if you look close, one might notice that her canines are a bit sharper than is normal. An eyebrow arches, and she nods. "In that case, I suggest you get your affairs in order. There isn't a place on this planet that you can go where we can't find you."
Derek nods first; he'd already figured that Toxin wasn't going to do him any harm if Magneto hadn't already decided to off him. An eyebrow arches in the end. "No, I didn't imagine it would be easy to vanish. I'm not exactly non-descript, either. But if you're handing out his jobs, then you're working for him." 'cause, well, Magneto could turn the building into a twisted pile of rubble any time he might so choose. "I've read a lot about him, and some of it's gotta be bull. So I want to know whether working for him is as advertised."
Toxin chuckles softly. "Working for him doesn't exactly describe it, but it will do for now. And I imagine I could find you wherever you went." she murmurs, twirling the liquid in her glass for a minute before answering his next statement. "To get an answer to that, you'll have to be more specific. Often what the media writes is written out of fear. And if you respect him, you have no need to fear."
Derek mms and nods sagely. "Working with him, at the least," he adjusts his definitions slightly, if not his perspective. "The media thrives off sensationalism, I know. But I presume it's fair to call him...what was it...a 'militant activist for mutant rights'?"
"That's a...fair assessment. We, as mutants, have an inalienable right to go about as ourselves and not have to worry about being shot in the streets, simply because we were born. Our designation, homo superior, is particularly apt. The humans must realize that we are indeed superior." Toxin replies, taking another sip out of her vodka and watching his reaction before she continues. "If it was you seeking out Magneto, you must feel this already. The injustice. Or were you, perhaps, looking for some side benefits? Of working with one as powerful as he?"
Derek is always difficult to read, but there's a subtle lifting his chin and a gleam in his eye as Toxin describes the theory of mutant superiority. It clearly resonates. "If I wanted side benefits, I'd be trying to get into pro football and passing for normal," he replies. "But damned if I'm going to sit on the sidelines of this fight."
Toxin can't help but smirk at that statement. "You could do both, you know. Live the star's life and work on our side as well. Look at me. The entire world, save for a few, thinks that I'm human and a simple businesswoman. It's the other side of my life that fascinates me." She leans forward, setting her glass on the desk and propping her elbows on her knees, her chin supported by her hands. "And are you truly prepared to fight on the front lines?"
Derek's eyes are intense and chilling. He doesn't blink very much. "I just spent eight years in prison," he replies. "The world in there is organized by gangs, and I've come to think the world out here is, too. So you find yourself the right gang. I think it's Magneto's. And yes. If I throw in my lot with him, I'd kill for him." And it doesn't sound as though he'd hesitate on the order, either.
Toxin doesn't seem at all bothered by Derek's revelation. Instead, her eyes narrow, and they search him up and down. Finally, she nods, as if satisfied. "Good. That's settled, then. Two main rules you need to know about Magneto. One: Respect him, because he can kill you, and will. Two: Do not hesitate around him." she instructs, leaning back and finishing off her vodka. "You're not very thirsty." She slides off of the desk and heads back to the bar for herself.
Derek has rather forgotten his drink the course of their conversation and looks down at it, somewhat surprised that it's still in his hand. He raises it again and takes a sizable swig. "Some things are more important than scotch; and we are pretty much talking about the course of the rest of my life." Probably a conversation that'll prove to be of more importance to Derek than Toxin. "Those are rules I can live with." The corners of his eyes crinkle in what passes for a smile on Derek. "I noticed that he appreciated it when I called him 'sir'."
Oh, but that conversation will be of importance to Toxin. She keeps tabs on most of the juniors that come onto the island, at least for a few days. "Once you get to know him better, and have proved yourself, you won't need to call him sir all the time. But for now it's not a bad idea." She refills her glass and heads back to her previous position on her desk. One of the advantages to having a poison immunity is that you can't give yourself alcohol poisoning. "As for the course of the rest of your life, that remains to be seen. I was already heavily entrenched in Succubus when I met Magneto, and he hasn't argued with that facet of my life." she says in a cool tone. It's for a good reason, but nobody else needs to know that.
Derek nods slowly. "Hm. Does he normally whisk people away from their lives never to return? I get that impression from what he was saying about getting my affairs in order. And I gotta admit, there's only so far I can go to getting things in order; I'm on parole, and I've got no problem with saying 'fuck the system' and ditching, but it cuts down future options, you know? Even walking the street in the city, not like the cops won't notice me." Even without any obvious physical mutations, Derek stands out from a crowd. He lifts his glass again once he finishes explaining the dimensions of his problem and takes a slow sip, holding a small amount of scotch in his mouth to appreciate it before swallowing. More taste, less drunkenness.
Toxin shakes her head slowly. "You really aren't used to New York City yet, are you? A man could walk down the street in a polar bear costume in the middle of July and not attract a second glance. And in the places you'll roam once you join him, most people are going to ignore you for fear of getting on your bad side." She eyes him drinking the scotch, then nods and takes another sip of her own drink, swinging her legs back and forth. "And if the parole is what you have a problem with, there are ways of taking care of that. Bribes, computer glitches, et cetera."
"Depends on whether the police are looking for you or not," Derek counters. "Ain' no one else gonna fuck wit' me, true dat." For a moment, he slips into an accent that would sound right at home in a prison before he returns to more careful grammatical construction. "I haven't tried to bribe my parole officer yet. Huh. That'd pretty well cover it. Wasn't even thinkin' that...not sure he'd /take/ a bribe, though."
There's a tiny smile on Toxin's face as Derek 'slips up' in his conversation, but it's so slight and quick that it would be easy to miss. "People can be bribed, or persuaded if they're not interested in money. Files can be altered, or disappear altogether." Of course, she's suggesting that they could make his prison record just disappear. "As for you...I have to admit, Derek, the suit and demeanor just doesn't match what I would expect from someone who not only just got out of prison, but apparently thrived."
Derek snorts at that. "I didn't come from Harlem," he replies. "I came from suburbs, money, and a football scholarship at Syracuse. I figured out that the rules are different on the inside, and you hang wit'ch'own if you wanna survive. And in prison, color tells you where you can go." He shrugs. "So I did what had to do, an' I know a little somethin' about being an enforcer. But that's not who I want to now that I'm out again." He touches his jacket for a moment. "Have to admit, I'm living a little beyond my means, with these clothes, right now. But I'm not some stupid punk thug; I'm a smart upperclass thug."
Toxin laughs, a musical sound, soft as it is. "You won't be living beyond your means for long. Magneto takes care of his own, I assure you...and if you're really interested in a life on the outside once we clear up the little prison problem, I could offer you a job as a bodyguard. You certainly have the 'look at me wrong and I'll kick your ass' part down. I doubt, given Magneto's schedule for his employees, you'd have time for more than a part-time position, even if you were interested." she comments, taking a good look at the suit for just a minute, then nodding. "So do you really not have any problem with settling your affairs, and uprooting to wherever he may wish you to go, or even go underground if that's what Magneto wants?"
Derek's mouth twitches to the side at Toxin's question. "What kinda great thing do I have here, a job as a waiter?" He shrugs. "My parents cut the cord after I got put away, it's been less than a month since I got out; I've got no reason to stay here, 'cept that parole. An' truth be told, after the intro I had to Magneto, I wouldn' mind a chance to hone my skills. I ain' had much time and opportunity to really practice and see what I can do." Other than hold a glass of scotch in place, evidently. "I wouldn' mind being a bodyguard." His voice goes dry. "Got plenty of practice waiting around in prison."
"You'll get training, I assure you. In more than the honing of your powers. While I'm sure that you're already a fighter, you'll be better in a short time. Much better." Toxin allows a wry smile to drift along her features, her gold-green eyes narrowing. "In this camp, you have two choices: improve or be culled from the pack. I'm sure you can appreciate the necessity of such harshness. You should have no trouble, as long..." she pauses and wags a finger at him, much like a parent to a child. "As long as you mind your teachers."
Derek lets out an amused 'hmf'. "I'm pretty good in a fight, but I've got no training," he acknowledges. "Definitely wouldn't hurt me to pick up some genuine martial arts." He lifts one eyebrow expressively. "I'm not afraid of a little competition. And I don't mind not bein' in charge, as long as I'm somewhere on the same page as the folks that are. Part of why I got so many questions for you -- an' I keep thinkin' more an' more that I was right to pick this crew to run wit'."
Toxin shrugs. "With your size, you'd probably be more suited to grappling than martial arts. But you can learn both, if you really want." A soft snort follows, and the woman seems more than amused for just a minute. "Competition is what you'll get, then. There's always something going on, whether it's an actual contest or just competition to get Magneto's attention. And keep asking, I haven't found any questions yet that I'm completely unwilling to answer."
"Well, I was thinkin' judo more than kung fu," Derek interjects briefly. More of a grappling martial than muscular one. "Wouldn't hurt to learn both, though." He pauses for a minute. Well, given a golden opportunity like this, he shouldn't waste the questions, especially not if he's gonna go underground with Magneto and Toxin's going to be staying here. Except that he's already asked most of the ones that were really burning to get off his chest. "Huh...okay. How 'bout...what's happening about this Mutant Registration Act shit?"
Toxin grins at him, nodding at the mention of the martial arts specialties. "As I said, you'll learn what you need to learn. To survive. And dominate." At the question about the Act, she falls into thought for several moments, for so long that an uncomfortable person might wonder if she was going to answer at all. "The Registration act is simply something that we must put up with for now. Many of the people under Magneto's command live...'off the grid', you might call it. For them, avoiding registration won't be a problem. For those of us who lead somewhat double lives, it will be more difficult. And Magneto, of course, is going to be registered without his consent, being a known mutant. But sooner or later, we'll deal with that. Now is just not the time." Of course, there's always the fact that Magneto has ordered them not to touch Lowe, and killing Lowe would pretty much kill the Act.
Unless Lowe were to be seen as a martyr to that particular cause, which could raise a whole host of other problems. Derek makes a small grimace, but nods. Toxin's silence is not enough to make him uncomfortable yet. "Mmm. Well, I'm glad I'm getting in before they get me on file again," he says dryly. "'s not like I have a brilliant plan to crash the act. Big part of the reason I want to be with people who make the big plans."
Toxin has to chuckle at that. It almost sounded like a compliment. "Big plans are only part of what we do. Most of the time, it's plans within plans, and small ones that fit together as a whole." She shrugs and looks around the office. "Honestly, it wouldn't bother me all that much to go on the list under my public name, because it would be all too easy for me to assume my real one again and disappear. I've done it before."
"Yes, but you'd have to give up this /lovely/ office," Derek deadpans. "I'm not so keen on trying that; don't think it'd work as well for me." He lifts his glass, remembering it once again, and polishes off the last of his scotch. "Plans within plans is fine with me. I could do a small plan, but I can't put together the big ones on my own, and it's that much better when the only plans I have to execute are the ones I'm especially suited for."
"It -is- pretty, isn't it? Although I have an even better one below." Toxin replies, her eyes dancing at the joke. She likes this Derek. Her hand raises and motions to his glass, a silent offer to refill it. "You won't be planning any at first, at least, I don't think you will. Magneto makes those decisions, and who knows, you might prove to be good at it."
Derek is happy to accept another glass and holds it forth for his hostess. Two glasses shouldn't be enough to make him stupidly relaxed, given his body mass. "Have to appreciate the finer things in life," he agrees. "Starting with art and alcohol." Which, presumably, is something a nod to the quality of scotch Toxin stocks. "Yeah, I'm gonna need a little experience," he admits a little ruefully. "Never really run anything out in the real world; was pretty much a straight shooter before I got hauled off to prisoner. Didn't know I was 'homo superior,' either."
Only the best alcohol will do for Toxin and her guests. Admittedly, she wouldn't be caught dead drinking the cheap stuff. Placing her glass on the desk, she retrieves his and heads for the bar to refill it. "Some of the best things in life resulted from one or the other. Or perhaps even a combination of the two." she remarks, handing him his scotch and hopping back up on the desk. A small laugh, and she shakes her head. "You're lucky in some ways, then. Most of our first experiences with our powers are...violent."
Derek's eyebrows arch and relax, and he hitches one shoulder as he enjoys his new glass. "I think I was using mine subconsciously in sporting events for years before I ever realized I could do anything like that on purpose," he admits. "I guess with a name like Toxin..." Derek trails off, letting the thought's trail be unspoken as he spots a clock, "Oh, shit. I'm gonna have to book outta here or I'm gonna be late for my job." The corners of his eyes crinkle with amusement. "And I haven't got the groundwork laid to go AWOL yet. Gonna have to split, but I'm very glad I tracked you down."
Toxin tilts her head to one side, and she looks interested in him finishing the thought about her, at least. However, her question about that will have to be curtailed. "Well, I suppose you should keep up that for a few more days, at least. I'd recommend just not showing up for work one day rather than actually giving them notice." Sliding off the desk, she chuckles and waits for him to stand. "You're welcome by anytime. And if you need help getting ready to move to Magneto's employ...let me know."
"Well, that'll depend on my parole status; they want you to have a job," Derek replies as he rises and polishes off his glass entirely too quickly for nice scotch. Still, not like there was anything else to do with it at this point. "Thank you. For the alcohol, the information and hell, just artistic appreciation." Of the room? Of her? The gleam in his eye suggests that he at least thought of the latter. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you. Toxin."
Toxin takes his glass and sets it on the desk, escorting him to the door. She stretches up and brushes her cheek against his, smiling. "I'd be happy to do it again." she replies. Ah, the fun of sentences with multiple meanings. "I'm quite sure we'll see each other again soon, Derek. In the meantime, do wrap up your affairs well." Because you're not going to be living in this city again for a long time. If ever.
Derek goes surprisingly tense as Toxin brushes her cheek against his; it does not actually make him flinch or move, but there is a light in his eyes when she draws back again. He blinks, slowly and deliberately, and manages to repress whatever caused it, at least for the moment. A deep breath steadies him. "Good evening to you," he wishes her, and moves to make his way out of the office and presumably to the Sweet Basil.