Alexander had never had a relationship last this long. He'd never had a serious relationship before.

Brooke motivated him to strive for more, for better things in his life. The longer they were together, the greater his ambition and hunger became. He wanted bigger and better. He wanted more and more for himself and for her.

He wanted his tribute.

But he and Brooke needed to get on the same page before anything happened.

Are you free today? We need to talk...

 Anybody who happened across Brooke Wyngarde would find her in a very warm, friendly, and gracious mood indeed. In fact, the hellacious little empath was giving off vibes of contentment like it was on clearance at Neiman-Marcus. For anyone who knew her well, this was probably an incredibly weird, off-setting thing for them to feel from her. But there it was. Brooke, actually happy and not snapping at anyone, or trying to tear anyone down. 

Granted, that could change at any moment.

At the moment, Brooke was seated in one of the Mansion's many common areas, a pitcher of strawberry and basil iced tea at her side, along with a small platter of cucumber sandwiches. Her iPad was carefully nestled in her hand and she was trying to read that day's issue of Women's Wear Daily but instead kept on flashing back to her night with Alexander. 

God, but that night had been perfect in ways she hadn't ever thought it could be. It had been everything she'd expected, and more still. She'd never felt as worshipped, or as loved, before. Feeling another flash of heat passing over her, Brooke reached out and took another drink of her iced tea. It did nothing to cool her down. 

Is the first time like this for everyone, Brooke wondered, or is this a special case?

Shaking her head, she tried to refocus on her paper but found that she couldn't. Brooke closed the Kate Spade iPad case and set the device down next to her. Oh who cares. I'm just going to revel in this.
It was silly, she knew, but Brooke was nervous. She was seeing Alexander after what seemed to be far too long, but was in actuality only a few weeks. A few weeks during which much had happened. Nothing terribly significant - apart from the wedding of her best friend - but many things, nonetheless.

Brooke stepped out of her Town Car in front of The House and requested the driver to grab a meal for himself. After all, a hungry driver was a bad driver, and it wasn’t as though Brooke was going to be out of the restaurant in fifteen minutes. She checked herself one last time in the mirror of her compact, snapped it shut, and slid it into her clutch. She’d opted for a dress that was less ladylike than her usual style tonight; a body skimming red dress that was equal parts sexy and demure, without looking as though it belonged in Alexander’s sister’s closet.

She exhaled softly through her nose and nodded. She was always nervous before seeing Alexander. Always. There was no good reason for it (except for where he was a demigod and he had that absolutely piercing gaze). She breathed in deeply and reached out with her powers. There, across the way, was someone waiting, calmly, for their check. Brooke pulled on that and used it to calm her nerves, even was the person whose emotions she was pulling from started to get a little agitated.

That was okay. That wasn’t her problem.

Putting on her warmest smile - she had long since learned that being rude to the help wasn’t always in her favor - she walked up to the hostess and asked for the table reserved under her name.
Marcelo Jaoquim Alencar da Silva had been bothering the doctors to clear him for doing a press conference ever since he got the toll the Purifier attack had cost him. The damage to his business and building didn't even make him bat an eye. The loss of life among his employees drove him into a quiet, determined shell. Foremost on his mind was getting his own word out.

The doctors finally relented on letting him join one of their daily press conferences to the media since the attack on Veridian. He hoped his presence speaking would renew the press at this point. He wanted attention on what had happened.

After making sure copies of security footage was safely in the Brazilian embassy in Washington DC and the consulate in New York, he requested a pair of pants. He might not get to wear a shirt and have to be wheeled to the press conference in a wheel chair, but he was going to do it in pants.

At the appointed time in the afternoon, he was wheeled down to the media room where a table had been set up. A couple doctors were there, too, to give updates on the other patients. He had worked it out so he started the press conference.

Marcelo adjusted his medical gown a bit. Then he leaned slightly toward the mic. He winced ever so slightly when the motion pulled on his wound. He might have been paler than normal, but he wasn't sure anyone would notice.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen," he started levelly. He fought internally to keep himself calm.

"As you know a few days ago, a group of men in powered armor and one raving lunatic attacked my offices of Veridian Dynamics.

"Nineteen hard-working employees were killed in coldblood.

"Eighteen of us are still here for medical treatment. Which does not include the twenty-seven of my employees that had been treated and released.

"Law enforcement agencies are continuing to investigate. I expect an updated report shortly." He paused slightly to drum up the words that came next.

"I condemn this attack, this terrorist attack by Vargas and the Purifiers, in the strongest possible terms. They came into a workplace and opened fire on innocent people because I do not condone or support their viewpoint. They killed people because I refused to discriminate." He glanced at several cameras pointed at him.

"I give my deepest condolences and sympathies to the victims and families of those killed. I honor their service and bravery. From the toughest member of security to," his voice caught. He blinked away the tears the next words caused. "To the sweetest of secretaries. All of them were amazing people taken too soon by malice.

"I would also like to thank the X-Men, who showed up to help distract and contain those Purifiers so the death toll would not be higher."

With his bit said, he let the doctors take over the medical updates. He hoped the incoming questions weren't too hard. He was not on pain meds until he went back to his hospital room. He needed to be as clear-headed as possible.
Mrs. Mary MacNeilly's report to the New York State Education Department was far from glowing. Her report caused a lot more concern and shock than normal process usually allowed. They did their research on previous inspections just to see how long this mutant school problem had been going on. Despite their research showing there had never been an issue as large as what was put before them, they had to take action on what Mrs. MacNeilly had reported.

The NYSED informed the superintendent in the district Xavier's was located in of the issue. They also got in touch with Westchester County's office about Xavier's certificate of occupancy due to the structural damage Mrs. MacNeilly had witnessed happening to the school building. With the report of mutants on the grounds the state and county governments got their information squared away before sending representatives to the school with protection from law enforcement. Child Protective Services got into the loop after being informed of a young girl living at the school surrounded by mutants who quite possibly could not control their powers.

As the media got wind of what was coming to a quiet yet secretive school in upstate New York, TV stations sent crews out. Some of the government representatives were glad to talk vaguely about what was happening at the school live. With the cameras aimed to put the people going into the school on film, a TV reporter stepped into the frame.

"This is Samantha Boulevard here not far from the town of Salem Center in Westchester County. Government officials from the New York State Education Department are here delivering a notice of probation for the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. The school came under scrutiny recently during an inspection by a certified educational inspector. My sources have told me that this school poses as a private institution for education but has been revealed to be habitat for mutants."

Fashion porn.

That's what it felt like to Brooke whenever she entered Lanvin's New York flagship store. Everywhere around her there was just fashion. The young woman reveled in it, her high heeled basic black Prada pumps digging into the plush zebra-striped rugs as she slowly walked around the three-story shop. She wasn't looking for anything specific, mind. It was simply that the weekend had come and as per Brooke's agreement with Rachel, weekends could be spent in the city, at Brooke's own apartment, doing whatsoever she pleased.

This usually included shopping, with Brooke's maid Sharona accompanying her with all of Brooke's necessities for the day.

Brooke's raspberry-lacquered lips curved into a triumphant smile as she came across a sleeveless white blouse with a cute little bow-tie collar. She reached up and touched the tie on her own peach coloured sleeveless blouse - a Lanvin creation itself - and snapped her fingers. The blouse, she decided, would pair beautifully with the black textured pencil skirt that she'd just picked up at Opening Ceremony. Sharona reached out to pluck the blouse from where it hung - there was only one left in Brooke's size - when another woman reached out and grabbed the same size, giving Brooke a particularly catty grin as she did so.

Brooke recognized the girl immediately. Candida Archer. She'd been a former student at the Spence School, one of Woodbridge-Robillard's chief competitors and a girl that Brooke had particularly despised for a perceived slight done to her at her debutante ball.

Wordlessly, Brooke gave Candida that look. One which she'd perfected in high school, but one which she hadn't yet gained the ability to add her empathic powers to back then. Today, that was no longer the case. Brooke raised her chin ever so slightly, and her eyes narrowed just a little. She stood a little more taller, maintaining eye contact with Candida as she effortlessly manipulated the other girl into terror and subservience. The blouse was hers and Candida inexplicably felt inferior to Brooke. She rushed past the empath and out onto Madison Avenue.

Triumphant, Brooke handed the blouse to Sharona, who was already saddled with many other clothes that Brooke was purchasing from the shop that day. As she made her way to her favorite salesperson to make her purchases, Brooke faltered just a little bit. This is what Rachel was telling her about, what Rachel was warning her about.

A sociopath. Manipulating a girl's emotions for a blouse.

She froze for a moment as something akin to guilt started wriggling its way into her heart. No. She suppressed those feelings. It was the last blouse in my size. I was absolutely justified.

Still, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself that it was true, somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that it wasn't.

Alexander Aaron's visit to his sister  went well, but now he needed to actually get settled in and the first thing he needed to do was buy clothing and get to know the competition. Humans had issues with nudity and Alex figured it best to subscribe to their rules for as long as he was on their plane of existence. He also needed things like a car and a more permanent place to live, but one thing at a time.

He headed to a tailor and get his measurements done and look over his choices. Eventually, he'd design his own clothing but he also needed to go over materials as well.

The attendant helping him was clearly fawning over him but Alexander ignored it, hoping he could get through this shop and head to the next one as soon as possible.

"Can you bring over something in grey? And a few ties as well?" he asked her. She hastened to obey.

Sometimes, Earth wasn't so bad.

The fitting ended and Alexander left with several suits and the attendant's phone number.  Finding himself hungry, Alex stopped at a local restaurant to get something to eat. He remembered that all of the really terrible Earth food was really good, but the pricier items left a lot to be desired. He sat down at a table started out with some tea, deciding that he'd have something stronger in a bit.



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The Next Generation of Marvel Heroes

Current Game Date

June, 2013


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