Owner	Pose
Kid Omega	Quentin Quire has enough contacts in the mutant underground to be able to get a message to the Brotherhood. He's never exactly been on the up and up and it's pretty well known that the nightclub he owns has maybe let a few of the true believers slip out the back door through the crowd when the white knights showed up. He, along with his girlfriend, Wicked, had been students at the Xavier's school until about a month ago, when they abruptly stopped going to class and cut off contact. Not that they adverise their comings and goings, other than Quentin posting BYE BITCH in glittery neon on his Instagram. The meeting place will, of course, be of Magneto's choosing. Omega will arrive with Wicked on his arm, clad in a white satin jumpsuit with a pink shirt and a massive bling chain with a platinum Q encrusted with diamonds. His hair is shaved on the side, a Q-curl meticulously gelled at the front of the magenta-hued pile as he looks out over a pair of designer sunglasses. "I am ready to get busy with the Master of Magnetizzy," he says.
Magneto	Magneto had sent a message back when the request came to him. Advising the pair meet at the Genoshan consulate in New York City.   The King of Genosha had been making a visit to the United States, publicly it was to spread Genosha's goodwill, but of course there were other purposes for the visit. Among them was this meeting. A Genoshan showed them to a room, simple enough of a meeting place. The decor was modern, perhaps even semi Scandinavian.   Soon, Magneto himself made his entrance. The door opened with his will, and clad with his signature helmet, the world's most notorious mutant had walked in, closing the door behind him. "Thank you for coming." He says, staying standing for now, his eyes looking over the two Mutants.
Wicked	Wicked is mostly going along with Quentin as he goes. She's rarely ever mentally present for long-enough stretches of time to understand what's going on around her. She's constantly hearing the whisperings and wails and gnashing of teeth of ghosts, echoes, and wraiths that are peanut-butter-thick practically anywhere you go. Add in the fact that she also has cognitive visions that grip her, as a medium and somewhat-psychic type...and, yeah. It's a hard thing to remain present and cogent. Of course, with Quentin, it's much easier to do, because he can just basically nestle in her head and know where she is, at any given time, and bring her to the fore, if she needs his help. She's been with him for long enough he's got blanket permission to do what needs doing, because he's made her life much more tolerable and kept her safe since they became a pair. Her Frighteners like him, too. There's also that.     So, when they get prepared to meet the man, the legend...Wicked is mostly with it! She's dressed in a black dress with long sleeves, a white Peter Pan collar, pearl buttons dripping down from there, and a just-shy-of-knee-length hemline. She wears tightly-woven fishnets that have some tears in them, but that's mostly obscured by the high platform Frankenboots she's wearing, the calf-shafts of which are positively LITTERED with buckles and straps. It's kind of difficult to see her, though, as she's almost /engulfed/ by an overly poofy fur coat with a high collar that folds down around her neck. Her long black hair is glassy in its shine, and razor straight, falling around her shoulders...and, the top of her head is kept warm by a black, bunched hoodie with a white skull in the center of her brow. Her makeup, as always, is Goth-chic, with black lipstick on her full mouth, dramatic brows whose tails are broken up by little gaps, her eyes seeming to hover in a fuzzy black pool of perfectly blended eyeshadow and mascara.     Being Genoshan, Wicked kinda feels at home, here. If she were mentally cognizant of her surroundings, that is. But, most of the details escape her attention as she weaves, her arm looped through Quentin's, her Frighteners hovering near her -- invisible to most, unless they choose to manifest -- to catch her, should she be gripped by a vision, or fall because she's so...out-of-it and accident prone. She giggles at Magneto as he sweeps in, regal and awe-inspiring. She wiggles bony little fingers, marked with decorative little tattoos, in a greeting to him.
Kid Omega	Quentin uses a bit of his telekinesis to help keep Wicked propped and supported, just in case she gets a case of the ghostlies while they're meeting with the man himself. "I appreciate you're agreeing to meet. You may or may not know who I am," he says. On the one hand, Quentin himself is a prominent mutant and business owner in Mutant Town. On the other hand, Magneto, while undoubtedly "with it" to some degree, is nonetheless an Old Fart (TM) and may not be aware of the new media circles where Quentin tends to make a stir. "Kid Omega," He says, using his Mutant name in the presence of the man himself, "This is Wicked. We have recently been, well, more philosophically inclined towards your particular modus operandi. That is to say, we're both tired of playing nicey nice with people who want to stomp us just for being genetically diverse."
Wicked	In a moment of clarity, Wicked's eyes -- super pale hazel irises that are sort of unsettling with all of her black makeup and almost sickly pale skin -- fly wide and she points a finger, tipped with sharply pointed, black lacquered nail with little tiny cubic zirconia dotting just above the cuticle.     "YEAH," she says, her eyes narrow, then, as she looks around. "Nobody better try to stomp on US, or ELSE!" she declares confidently. "Because I will SPOOK their lights out!" she swings her gaze back to Magneto, wiggling spooky fingers with her free hand. The way she's leaning...it seems like she's about to fall. And, in a completely unnatural motion, she's lifted and re-angled, to lean more fully on Quentin's side. Whether it was Quenting's TK or the Frighteners is unclear to lookers-on. "I WILL SPOOK YOU!" she repeats, dissolving into a flight of eerie giggles that ends abruptly. It's off-putting, more than likely. She's not super sane, in many respects.
Magneto	Magneto gestured to a set of chairs once the two introduced themselves. "I must admit, I am not as aware of you as others in the consulate are. Being in the continent, I felt it was appropriate to meet in person." The regal mutant himself was wearing a suit, epaulets of gold on his shoulders, along with a black and silver version of his helmet. "Genosha welcomes all mutantkind, of course. However, one would guess you are wanting different?" His tone hints at something specific. Of course, publicly, Magneto has distanced himself from the Brotherhood. But behind closed doors, the group was indeed still active with their leader at the helm. His brow raises as Wicked chimes in, mentioning being spooked. "Really? How quaint." The man himself was used to working with those considered insane.
Kid Omega	Quentin Quire smiles, "Yeah, you could say we're interested in fraternizing with folks that maybe don't have the most savory of reputations. But reputation's a complicated thing isn't it. Some say an awful lot of nasty things about you, good sir, but I don't give much credit to the mumblings of feeble minds and fallow imaginations. I look at your words and your deeds and I see a man with a vision, with a plan, with an actual backbone and some big old magnetic guts hanging off the ribcage," he grins. He actually guides Wicked up with his TK, drawing her up and draping her across the back of his neck like a snake, resting his arms on her, looping one of her neck and the other over her knee, a boa of gothic teen mutant, just another accessory in his overstylized look. "We figure it's probably time for some new blood? And, given that we, uh, just recently left our former educational environs, it might also be a little bit of a coup to swipe a couple from the other camp, if you drift my get."
Wicked	Wicked makes an amused little coo as she's lifted and draped, left resting on the breadth of his back, in a sort of fireman's carry. She lies limply, as though this is a totally normal kind of thing to happen to her. At least she's wearing the coat that ensures her modesty stays in tact, and her thick, heavy boots dangle pendulously.     She blows out puffs of air to free her face of her hair and she says, "I'm more of a gamble, but QQ is worth his weight in bitcoin." She says a phrase he's used to describe himself on more than one occasion. She has no idea what it means, but it's QQ-approved patter, so she says it! "'Sides, together...we're a real danger to anyone who'd try to oppose us," she says, parroting more cogent thoughts originally from the mouth of Quentin. "And, I'm Genoshan, so I don't hafta worry 'bout a visa or whatever, so there's that!" she chirps brightly.
Magneto	Magneto watches the whole exchange go on. Draping the girl around his neck. "What you propose is intriguing, Omega. Now, I may have use of some of your resources as well. I think we can benefit from the two of you."   Magneto leans back in his chair. "You would be free to live in Genosha of course." He offers, watching the two. "Or of course, having you two here would allow our kind to operate from Mutant Town. The less we meet in person the better, of course. SHIELD chooses to watch my movements after that...indecent with President Underwood." In where the Master of Magnetism confronted the President for murdering a mutant reporter.
Kid Omega	Quentin Quire smiles, "I get what you're saying, big guy. I'll stick to my club and keep operating there, but we can open up some avenues of communication. I have a gift for innovation and can come up with encryption that would make SHIELD's best and brightest start drooling out of their ears and seeing out of their tongues. Wicked's got it right, her passport means we can travel pretty free back and forth, but I know how to keep the flatscans guessing if it comes to that," he says. "I'm actually pretty good at handling the media, even have a couple of reporters...well, I won't say in my pocket, more like I know what they put up their noses. Information's a great weapon."
Wicked	Wicked has contributed pretty much all she can to this conversation. She only makes a pouty sort of sound at the idea of moving back to Genosha. If she could order her thoughts well, she'd say something liiiiike: But, noooooooo! Genosha's so BORing. It's just the most BORING thing I can imagine, Quentin. We have our club, we have our fun, and that's all here. If we hafta go to Genosha, I wanna back out! Nooooooo~ -- Unfortunately for her, she can't get it together to say that. However! Quentin can easily understand all of this in that one pouty sound she makes. She doesn't mind traveling, when it's needed, but she would rather live it up and have lotsa fun in Mutant Town, with the other weirdos who don't look /as/ strangely at her as others do.
Magneto	Quentin's words indeed garner a satisfied response from Magneto. "Good, we can use this to our advantage. Help Genosha along the way, and further our cause." He of course has plans in the works currently, but he keeps that close to his vest for now.   "You obviously know how to contact me. When you're needed, we will use that avenue for now. I can assure you we will be in touch very soon."