nextgenerationmarvel | Petty Woman [Open]

Entry tags:

Petty Woman [Open]

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Alexander took Brooke's hand and kissed it again, enjoying the feel of her skin beneath his lips. She was truly beautiful, but it was a cold beauty, untouchable though it made one desire to touch it even more.

"Thank you. I'm glad you approve, Brooke." he said, saying her name as though it were the last word of a sacred prayer.

"I hope you don't mind that I got us in at the Empire Room." Alexander said. She would certainly know of the place, an intimate A-List location that looked out on Ellis island. One usually had to make reservations months, if not years in advance to get in. Luckily, the owner owed a favor to Alexander's mother before her passing and informed the young man that said favor carried over to Alexander anytime he wanted to stop in. He'd never seen a reason to before now but impressing Brooke seemed like a decent enough reason.

Besides, his other meetings had gone so well that he was in the mood to celebrate.

"If you'll follow me, our chariot awaits. I've always wanted to say that." he said, chuckling a bit. Hopefully she was intelligent enough to carry on a conversation; he'd been disappointed with pretty packages with no substance in the past.

And the car ride would be agonizingly slow.

Dark, long lashes gently batted above Brooke's cheek as Alexander kissed her hand. A gentleman so far. That was good. Brooke was unlike many of her society girl brethren, going after oily Greek shipping scions, Brazilian businessmen, and star kid celebutards.

Once seated in the back of the car, Brooke turned so that she was facing Alexander a little bit. There was something about him that felt familiar, somehow, but she couldn't put her finger on what that was.

"The Empire Room," Brooke stated. "It's astonishingly difficult to get in there." Even she'd been put on the waitlist for that place. Granted, she could relax with the knowledge that the likes of Tinsley Mortimer had also been placed on the waitlist, but still. "Who are you, Alexander Aaron, that you were able to get a table at a moment's notice? Or is it simply that you've had this reservation for ages and simply needed company tonight so you wouldn't be dining alone?" She didn't really beat around the bushes much, this one.

"I was owed a favor and I called it in." Alexander said simply. It was true enough. When she asked him who he was, he wanted to reply with a pop culture reference about being "a man of wealth and taste" but the connotations might be unsettling if she actually understood it.

"Yes, I needed the company of a charming woman to make my meal more enjoyable. Eating alone is a form of torture that no one should endure if they can help it." he said, his voice oddly vulnerable at that moment.

"My name is Alexander Aaron and I know what I want. Who are you, Brooke Wyngarde, that you entrance men with little more than a smile on those pouty little lips?" he asked, turning her question back upon her immediately.

Edited 2012-12-12 04:55 (UTC)

"..." Brooke paused a moment and took a sip of her water. So he had favours that he could simply call in at places that were difficult to get into.

He hated dining alone and considered Brooke a charming woman.

There was something vulnerable there, but evidently he did a lot to hide it.

All of it was very, very intriguing.

She smiled that pouty-lipped smile. "There's so many different answers to that question, I'm quite sure I wouldn't know where to begin," she said. After all, to most of the world, she was simply a rich Manhattan socialite. The mutant thing, that was mostly a secret.

"Please start at the beginning. Time is not a concern for me." Alexander said.

"I really want to hear everything about my muse, so anything you want to tell me is what I want to know." he told her, smiling.

So, it was to be all about Brooke tonight? She had to admit, there was not a lot that was better than that.

So she broke in to her story, filling Alexander in on how she was primarily raised on the Upper East Side, her mother grooming her to be a society queen much like her namesake Brooke Astor (as well as a major player in the Hellfire Club, of which her family had been members for a few generations), her time ruling over Woodbridge-Robillard, her friendship with a girl named Roxie who later became an Avenger, her horrible time at Empire State University (it was filled with science geeks and hipsters, and Brooke was so very much neither), and her mother's lies about her father, who had suddenly come back into Brooke's life, and who she was now building a relationship with.

Basically, everything that Brooke had ever been through, except for all of the mutant tidbits. Because who knew how Alexander would react to that?

Edited 2012-12-13 16:59 (UTC)

Alexander listened with rapt attention, interrupting only to ask Brooke to clarify a point here or there. He understood well about a parent grooming a child to live a particular life. His mother was willing to let him be whatever he wished, but his father was very much in favor of Alexander claiming his divinity as soon as was practical.

When she mentioned an Avenger named Roxie, Alexander couldn't help the slight smile that tugged at his lips. He should have known that this city was too small to avoid a connection with his sister /somewhere/. Ironically, Brooke had helped him pick out a gift for Roxanne earlier that day. Perhaps she'd be happy to know that? There was time for that later.

When she was done speaking, Alexander chose a particular thread of the conversation to focus upon because it mirrored something from his past.

"How do you feel about your father now that you know more about him?" Alexander asked her.

Edited 2012-12-14 03:21 (UTC)

Brooke had noticed that little smile when Roxie's name had come up. She'd continued speaking, of course, but there was suddenly that doubt in her mind. Had Alexander also done with Roxie what most of the single - and plenty of the not-single - men had already done with the superhero?

Because if so, Brooke was going to have none of it.

"Honestly? It's bizarre. My mother had made up stories about my father - none of them the truth, of course - but now that I've met him, I wonder why she made those things up." The truth was that Regan Wyngarde had created complex illusions, tricking Brooke into thinking that her father was a normal, rich baseline human who had been sent to jail for tax fraud. Not exactly something that Brooke could mention. "At the same time, though, whenever I try to get closer to him, he seems to hold me at an arm's distance. I'm not sure why. I want to trust him, but at the same time, something doesn't feel quite right, if that makes sense." Manuel de la Rocha was hiding something from his daughter, but what that was, Brooke didn't yet know. That was partially why she'd ended up at the Xavier Institute. She needed to learn more about her powers, and if Manuel was going to consistently block her from reading him, then she was going to learn from people who actually wanted to teach.

"Believe it or not, I know the feeling of being kept at arms' length, as well as being told something other than the truth. My mother told me that my father was a demolitions expert, when I could get her to talk about him, that is. I didn't meet him until I was ten years old. By then, I thought I was old enough to not care by that point but...meeting one's father for the first time is a powerful thing." Alexander said.

"He and I had a lot of trouble starting out. I was a very willful boy and he is a very willful man. We butted heads about a lot of things. But as difficult as our relationship was, it's nothing compared to my relationship with my grandfather. Father and I /both/ have a lot of trouble with him." Alexander said.

"Over time I came to understand my father and why he'd been so distant. I got to know him and his life and found that I truly enjoyed it. But it came at the cost of my relationship with my mother." Alexander said.

"Are you still close with your mother?" he asked.

"It is a powerful thing," she agreed. When she'd met her father, so many things had started to click into place for Brooke. Her powers, for instance, were entirely derived from Manuel, as was her colouring, considering her blonde-haired, blue-eyed mother.

"I'm not particularly close to my mom's side of the family," Brooke admitted. "Neither is my mom, admittedly. My mom and I...well. She fled town when she discovered my dad was in town and that he was reaching out to me - apparently he's been living in London for awhile - and I haven't really heard from her since." There was more of a story there, Brooke knew there was.

She simply didn't know what that story was, though ever since Rachel had diagnosed Brooke as a woman with sociopathic tendencies, she had wanted to know, more than anything, what the story there was.

"Do you miss her? Your mother?"

Do you miss her? Your mother?

He couldn't remember the last time anyone had ever asked him that question. Whenever they did ask, he usually changed the subject because thinking of his mother was unpleasant for Alexander. Not because she was ever cruel or abusive to him; she was, in fact, the best woman he'd ever known. She was gentle, kind and selfless...everything Alexander knew he wasn't. She had never failed him.

It was always he who'd failed her.

He felt himself closing down in that moment, seeking a way to change the subject to a topic where he was once again in control. Still, no one had asked him about her a long, long time.

"Yes, I do. Every single day." he said quietly, looking out the window. Suddenly, he was no longer in command of the evening like he had been just moments ago. He missed his mother.

But he couldn't give Brooke that sort of power over him. She might use it against him. That was what humans did, right? Took advantage of anywhere they could?

"I'm not close with my mother's side of the family, either. I spend my time in the company of my sister and a few of my other siblings. My father and his family as well. It makes all the traveling worthwhile, right?" he grinned, his aura of command resettling upon him.

"You said your mother was preparing you to be a society queen since you were little. Is that what you truly want or just what she wanted?" he asked, looking back at her.

"How many siblings do you have?" Brooke asked. She herself was an only child. She'd imagined, before, what it might be like to have a younger or older sibling, but she'd often decided that she liked being the only child. No one to share anything with. No one to compete with. She liked that - being the one and only.

"I want power." It was an honest enough answer. "I don't just want to be a pretty figurehead, spearheading charities. I want to make a difference. A real difference." Such as one where mutants were an equal part of society - if not more - and weren't ostracized by those who viewed mutants as a threat - or as inferior to homo sapiens. "It's what I want, though perhaps not as my mother would have wanted it."

"Three living siblings." he said, not deigning to count the ones who'd fallen in the past. He'd researched it for quite some time out of some need to know more about his father.

"I respect that. There is absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to be powerful. It lets you control your world and make informed decisions without being under duress." Alexander said. He wanted much the same thing.

"And it lets you make a difference in many ways, as you very well know." he said, reaching over to take her hand. He studied it intently for a moment before he looked into her eyes again.

"I get the feeling you will find all the power you ever needed within yourself, Brooke Wyngarde. And when you do, the world will kneel at your feet and declare you its queen in both thought and deed." he smiled.

"So does that mean that..." Brooke studied Alexander intently. "How many are not living?" she finally asked.

There was something very strong about the way that Alexander looked at her. Brooke found herself unable to tear her eyes away from his - almost as though they were locked into his gaze. Then there was the jolt of something that she felt when he took his hand. It wasn't just electricity. There was something more.

Almost as though he was something more.

Not human.

Not mutant.

But there was power there. The empath in Brooke sensed it the same way she'd sensed the power in Roxie Danvers all those years ago.

She flushed a little bit at those words. "All that confidence in a woman you've barely even met? Have I already inspired you, or is it just that those gorgeous eyes of yours can see the future as well?"

"Yes. Several of them are dead. Some long before I was born." Alexander said of his siblings. Father had many children, both divine and not so. He was much like grandfather in that way.

He watched Brooke study him and he noted there was something more to her, though he couldn't figure out what it was. It was much like when he'd homed-in on Marcelo that day at the restaurant. He'd been surprised when the Brazilian looked back at him in equal measure.

Now Brooke was looking into him, through him, for something and he found it amusing. A challenge even.

"I know an exceptional woman when I see one, Brooke. You aren't hard to pick out of a crowd." he told her.

When she asked if she'd inspired him or if he could see the future, Alexander favored her with a mischievous smile.

"Yes." he answered to both and neither of her questions.

"..."

Brooke stared at Alexander for the longest time. (Which was so easy, given how ridiculously handsome he was.)

"There is a lot you aren't telling me here, Alexander Aaron."

"Yes, there is a great deal I'm not telling you, Brooke. I admit this to you because I know there is a great deal that you are not telling me as well. I assume it's because you think that if I know everything, I'll lose interest and find something else to do or someone else for a muse." Alexander said.

"We just met today and so you have little reason to trust me. Sure, I am saying things you enjoy hearing but...am I real, you wonder? Something about 'if it's too good to be true, it probably is." he said.

"Well, let us make a pact now, Brooke Wyngarde, you and I. By Earth and Stone, Sea and Sky and the heavens ruled by the Gods...I will be as honest and forthright with you as you are with me until such a time as you no longer desire my presence in your life." Alexander said.

"So you may tell me only what you wish me to know with the knowledge that I will do the same until we both believe we can trust each other. Do we have a deal?" he asked, extending his hand.

Edited 2012-12-15 05:14 (UTC)

Silently, and without another word, Brooke reached across and took Alexander's hand, shaking it.

"I'm trusting you enough to make this pact with you, Mystery Man," she said. "That means something."

There was a sound in the air above them not unlike rumbling thunder and Alexander nodded solemnly.

"So it is sworn and so it comes to pass." he said, shaking her hand.

"When you feel I'm ready to know more about you, Brooke Wyngarde, I will tell you a bit more about me and we will see where we stand from there." he told her.

The car stopped at the entrance to the Empire Room and Alexander leaned in gently.

"For now, my muse, we are arrived at our destination." he said, as the driver opened the door.

"Will you join me?"

"A futile question, given the pact we just made, wouldn't you say?" Brooke asked, taking Alexander's hand. The rumbling thunder-like thing just then had surprised Brooke, of course. She couldn't help but feel as though it was somehow tied to this mysterious man whom she felt strangely drawn to.

"Though, I suppose, if I am to be your muse, you'll have to know everything about me." She raised an eyebrow. How would that possibly go over?

"I suppose I would need to know that. But as I said I already wanted to know everything, you don't need to worry about what you might tell me." Alexander said.

"And once you tell me what you think I need to know, I'll tell you something of equal value." he said, leading her out of the vehicle. The pair walked up to the doors and Alexander spoke to the host to inform her of their reservation.

She looked them up and hastened to escort them to their dining area, the most intimate and secluded in the establishment, away from the other patrons.

Once they were seated, the hostess provided them with the wine list and menus, then indicated that their waiter would be with them shortly.

"What else should I know about the beautiful, yet aloof, Brooke Wyngarde?" he asked.

"They always say that you should play your trump card last," Brooke said after they were seated. "Hold on to it the longest, you'll have more power." She raised an eyebrow. "Me, I'm more curious to see what your idea of equal value is," she said. "So, you want to know something more about me? Fine." She gently folded her arms on the table in front of her and gave Alexander a somewhat challenging look. "I'm a mutant."

When she said she was a mutant, Alexander smiled brightly. He knew there was something special about her. Was that why she was drawn to him?

"Truly I chose well when I went to Lanvin's this morning." Alexander said, once again looking upon her with new eyes. She was much like a diamond; turn her one way and you saw the facets that showed why she was worth choosing. Turn her another and you saw further facets that only enhanced that beauty.

"Very well. I will tell you something of equal value. My name is Alexander Aaron, and that is true. But in Olympus, home of the Gods, they call me Phobos, God of Fear. I am child of Ares War-Maker and grandscion of Zeus Lightning-Thrower, king of all the gods of Olympus." Alexander told her.

He looked at the wine-list.

"Red or white?" he asked.

"Red," Brooke replied. "But sweet," she then amended. "You're Roxie Danvers brother." It wasn't a question so much as it was a statement. She knew of Roxie's bizarre parentage - most people did, even if some chose not to believe it. Brooke did. You didn't get to be a mutant, read up on the X-Men and other heroes, and not believe something like that.

"What a small world."

"Yes, Roxanne is my dear, beloved sister." Alexander said.

"Yes, the world is small but she didn't tell me about you, if that's what you're wondering." Alexander said.

"May I ask what you can do? Perhaps if you do, we can talk about what it is to be different?" he suggested.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject