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Pop-Up's ... maybe ... if I get to approve the final version.
MST3K, not in this galaxy or another other. Somewhat dark
and nasty this one, though. Let's say a PG for some non-graphic
violence, icky imagery and lack of kindness.
For the Southern
Comfort Mailinglist with affection and best wishes for
our twenty years of Rogue celebrations. :)
To keep on holding up this ideal
must be excruciating: unless you stiffen into metal
when it is easier to stand stock rigid than to move.
That is why I tug at them, individually, with my arm
round their waist.
The human pillars.
They are not stronger than I am, blind Samson.
The house sways.
I shall be so glad when it comes
I am so tired of the limitations of their Infinite.
I am so sick of the pretensions of their spirit.
I am so weary of their pale-face importance. 
Magneto's eyes traced the swollen sky - tense, expectant,
weighed down with rain. Above him, the clouds swirled and
clotted, forming grotesqueries. Their insubstantial eyes watched
him, before bleeding into new horrors. The humid air moved
heavily through his open window, pressing him down, filling
his lungs with liquid concrete until he could ... no ... longer
Scowling at his treacherous imagination, he closed the window
and returned to the fire that burnt in his hearth. Even it
seemed sullen, weak flames providing him with little warmth
and less cheer. With a pang, he remembered the campfires of
the Romany people that burnt on the bleak, Polish plains in
the middle of jewel-like caravans. Remembered the whickering
of a horse, soft nose brushing his hand as he fed it a scrumped
apple. Remembered the complicated, intricate songs that uplifted
and healed. Remembered the dancing, the laughter, the love.
The cold citadel suddenly seemed like a prison to him - iron,
order and stone, the foundations of his new world. He reached
for the brandy decanter and adding a measure to a cut, crystal
glass. It was icy against his lips, burning as it slid down
his throat, providing no real warmth.
He started, instantly suspicious, magnetic shield flaring.
The guards were meant to keep people out of his private quarters.
Why had they been remiss in this respect? A slip of a girl
stood in the dimly-lit doorway, dressed in a green outfit
that made her look like a lily. For an instant, he thought
it was a ghost, coming dancing from the fields of childhood,
before recognising her as Mystique's daughter. He had seen
her with Raven when she had come before to try to strike a
deal with him. Her skills for the use of certain technologies
in his possession. He curved his lip contemptously - did she
really think a two-bit terrorist had anything to offer the
Master of the Electromagnetic Fire? Naturally, he had had
her escorted out of his citadel unceremoniously and her ship
seen off with suitable laserfire as well. Was she going to
use her daughter this time as a human bargaining-chip? How
low had she sunk?
She stepped into the firelight and he could see that the
girl was a woman. That she was very lovely with a grave face
and ancient, mossy eyes. Once, passing through Warsaw, he
had seen eyes like that on a beggar once, polished by hardship
and knowledge into two chips of jade. "Ain't a child,"
her smile was knowing, "As ya'll soon find out."
Unsettled, Magnus matched his smirk to her one, intending
to humor the girl before having her ejected from his chambers,
hoping to discover what Raven's true agenda was, "Really?
How do you intend to prove it?"
The grin remaining on her face, she slipped a plastic gun
from a holster at her hip, aimed it between his eyes and depressed
the trigger. A energy beam sliced the air, melting the plastic
of the weapon, splitting molecules. In the split-second between
shot and impact, before the world ceased to exist, he knew.
See if I don't bring you down,
and all your high opinion.
And all your ponderous roofed-in erection of right and wrong,
Your particular heavens,
With a smash.
See if I don't move under a
dark and nude, vast heaven
When your world is in ruins, under your fallen skies.
See if I am not Lord of the dark and moving hosts
Before I die. 
Continued in Chapter One
-  and  are both quotations from
D.H Lawrence's The Revolutionary'. Obviously, their
inclusion in the story means no claim of ownership on my
- I personally think Magneto could be
killed in this manner. He seems to believe that his associates
will never betray him - a la Cortez - no matter how poorly
he treats them, so a sneaky attack would work. I think.
You can disagree. :)
- Oh, I better add now that there is
no romance in this story. If you expect Rogue and Gambit
to get together, think again. It's strictly Tom and Jerry
stuff between them in this one. :) As for continuity, um,
yes, in a quantum universe, it is possible that this fits
some reality's continuity, because it tends to ignore the
comics in this one. :)
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