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The Police Station in Mutant Town is the location of a vigil- people standing with candles in remembrance of those who've died here. There are still police guards on duty- and the plaza where so many had met before still has ugly red stains on the pavement. The wall a mutant had created from the bedrock of Manhattan is mostly standing- although its clear work is being done to remove it from the street so as to make things easier. The artificial distance created has likely kept things peaceful, though.
Armando stands again in this place- a candle in hand along with a pack of matches. A remembrance of those who'd given their lives. For now, he is quiet, collecting his thoughts perhaps- but he stands where he did when everything went wrong.
Warren looks very much the part of New York yuppy. Not like the people on the street doing their best to look rich and important, no. The man who has made magazine covers as the youngest CEO of a Fortune 500 does indeed wear his fancy, tailored Italian suit and his shoes of some rare leather or another. Despite the getup, he looks much more interested in solemly taking a candle and paying his respects. Perhaps it isn't just the disenfranchised that this is a tragedy for.
Whatever the case, Warren's wings are currently concealed carefully under his clothing. After taking his candle, he walks over to where people are leaving candles and prayers for those who passed. This puts him, also, right next to Armando. Tears well in his eyes as he looks over all of the names and pictures of the smiling people that will not smile any longer. "I can't think of a good prayer," Warren says to no one in particular. "Not for this."
Armando offers up quietly. "What can we say? The wound is fresh. Innocent people died here- far more many innocent people than those guilty." He begins quietly, "I was here. It was just chaos. The police captain extended his hand- and he was murdered for it. Things are going to get worse before they get better."
Warren looks sidelong to Armando, squinting his eyes at the man. There'd been so much going on and so much chaos that there isn't much recollection there. Looking completely crestfallen, he dips his head in a nod. "I was as well," he speaks quietly. That's all that's said for the moment. Chewing at the corner of his lip, he does consider all of it. Tentatively, he lays a hand on Armando's shoulder, though he does glance at him to make sure it's alright.
"God, our Father. Your power brings us to birth. Your providence guides our lives, and by Your command we return to dust…" Warren keeps his head bowed, trying to remember the beautiful prayer that was spoken at his father's funeral to the best of his ability. "Lord those who die still live in Your presence…" The hand, whether Armando has decided to brush it off or keep it there, begins to shake a little. "I pray in hope for the families and loved ones of those lost. Should they find peace in Your grace. Amen." After the prayer, he lifts his head and just stares at the pictures and faces of those lost.
Armando doesn't pull away from Warren as he begins to pray- to place that hand on his shoulder. He figures its as much for him as it is for Warren. He remains in quiet until the prayer comes to a close, whispering. "Amen." Once the prayer has found its finish. He lights his match, and lights his candle- kneeling to quietly place it down. He offers no more prayers- what good are prayers for the dead? Prayers are for the living- Armando knows that much. The tall, grey-skinned mutant looks quietly over to Warren- offering his box of matches to the man with quiet solemnity.
Warren does finally move his hand from Armando's shoulder and gives him a firm nod. His jaw is tight, but he does what he can to keep himself together. It's not just for his own sake, but for the sake of those whose pictures and small items commemorating their lives are placed with love on the sidewalk. Taking the matches gingerly from Armando, he strikes one and lights his own candle before handing them back. "Thank you," he says quietly. Leaning down then, he places the lit candle. "You're also right." Standing up in full again, he looks over to the grey-skinned man. "Times ahead will be hard. It's going to call for us to be better than we are. I didn't see it before. Charles talking about peace, teaching…" With slightly bleary, tear-soaked eyes, he settles his gaze on Armando more readily. "We -can- be better. I can be. For them."
The matches are put onto the ground, half opened- so people who forgot matches would find them and could use them. What's a couple of cents in the face of tragedy. "Its never been easy. People are scared- more so now that ever." he says quietly, those featureless white eyes turned now towards Warren. Armando's features are not the best for finding emotion- at least, to those who don't know the young man very well. "Charles? As in Charles Xavier?" he asks, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
When Warren can't get a read on someone, it does certainly make him uncomfortable. Just that unpleasant little nagging at the back of his skull. Usually, that's the way he might be, but this is different. He doesn't have it in him to let it bother him today. "They're terrified. It's terror." Gently, he reaches a hand up to brush against the back of his own neck. At his question, he blinks and then nods his head. "Yes. Charles Xavier." There is some of his own thought that goes out towards the man he's talking about too. Perhaps he's considering words he's heard him speak. "I don't know him well. I think he's a bit on the idealistic side, but…he's someone who's doing something. Want to meet him sometime?"
"I've met him before. He offered me a teaching position of sorts, as well." Armando offers. "I'm Armando." he says, introducing himself. "People respond to the unknown with fear and caution. Its evolutionary advantage." If anyone understands evolution, its Darwin: The evolving boy. "I'm under the impression he's good people, for what its worth." he says, "And what he's doing is important. Some mutants can blend in effortlessly- others have to work for it, or can't all together." Darwin, as tall as he is- with his arms longer than average and his grey skin- it would be difficult, but not impossible.
"I'm thinking about taking him up on his offer, but I need to check with someone, first." Armando admits, "Idealism isn't a bad thing- its just a question of how much integrity those ideals maintain when things get really bad and there's an easy out."
"Warren," he replies, extending a hand to Armando easily. While the man's grey skin might be a little bit of an oddity in comparison to the rather yuppy-looking yuppy, he doesn't seem to have any qualms about physical contact. With a short laugh, he gives another nod of his head. The laugh? It's half-hearted and has more sorrow than mirth in it. "It's a hard commitment to make," he speaks in an understanding tone finally. "and I really don't blame you if it gives you pause. I'd be worried if it didn't."
After a heavy-hearted sigh, Warren flicks the tip of his tongue out between his lips to wet them quickly. "Man. You have a much better head on your shoulders than I do. You got a job?"
Armando shakes his head quietly. "Nothing permanent. I get odd jobs, sometimes. I spend most of my time in the library." he admits, as he shakes Warren's hand. "It gives me a lot of time to think, and continue my education." he states. "I manage, though. I share an apartment with a very kind woman- she's sort of like my adopted Mom." he says, with a quiet smile. "I try to make sure I'm not a burden to anyone."
The handshake is returned with a firm grip. Warren gives a nod of his head to Armando. "How would you like something more permanent with flexible hours?" he asks, raising his brows. "Not that I'm making a formal offer because I have no idea what your skillset looks like, but…" Taking a deep breath, he looks around at all of those others present for a moment. Finally, his eyes settle back on Armando. "Adopted mom? Huh." Shaking his head then, he goes on to explain. "It may not be a lot, but…someone has to take a stand. Someone has to be first. It's time I did something with my family's legacy that's worthwhile." The words seem like random thoughts, though he seems to be congealing them. "Something. Maybe I'm reacting. But…shouldn't I? I'm a mutant myself? Shouldn't my company be about employing people no matter who they are? I've been afraid for so long…" Another soft bit of laughter comes and he sniffs. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to…do this."
Armando is quiet as Warren speaks, "I don't really have any specialties, but I was educated at Biltmore." A very well known boarding school typically inhabited by trust-fund children. "I went on full scholarship." Which likely means that Armando is a very smart young man. "I'd like a job, yes- what sort of work do you do, sir?" he wonders, polite.
"Its okay. I understand." Armando offers, "You're trying to do the right thing. Its not always the easiest thing doing what's right. If you can get me a job, I'd be grateful. I'm not too proud to take any position- I'll scrub toilets and do so happily."
Warren's brows furrow just a little bit and he gives a shrug of his shoulders. "I own the company," he says simply enough and with a nod of his head. "Well, mostly we do avionics, but I've been thinking about branching out. Anyways, I can get you a job." There is a quick nod of his head to Darwin at that, his resolve showing indeed to do the right thing. Armando's presence and words seem to give him a little more strength and that jaw sets in a bit more firmly. "It won't be srubbing toilets either."
There's some more thought that goes into it. While he doesn't seem to brighten up much, there is a straighter posture to his stance now. "It isn't going to be easy. I'm going to have to fight every step of the way. But what -good- is any of this if I don't do any -good- with it? No. Today, I change. I'm going to see about getting a press conference together. I'm going to do something incredibly stupid, Armando. Stupid and noble."
Armando takes a pen from his shirt pocket, along with a small note pad from his pants pocket. He writes down his name: Armando Munoz. His address and phone number are there as well. He tears the page out and offers it quietly to Warren. "For what its worth, I'll do my best to support you, then." the young man offers- a soft smile showing now on his face. Its the lack of eyebrows and the featureless eyes that make it so difficult to read him- but that smile is obvious. "To be a force for positive change in this world would be my greatest wish and ambition. I don't want anyone to be afraid of me.. of us." he says, with a smile. "To that end, you'll always have a friend."
Warren immediately reaches for the wallet in the inside of his jacket and opens it up. He's already got a business card handy there in the pocket of the small leather billfold and he crisply hands it over. 'Warren Worthington III. Chief Executive Officer. Worthington Industries. Underneath all of this are the three numbers he can always be reached at. "That's a two-way-street, Armando. If you need anything at all, do NOT hesitate to call me." This has him smiling a little bit then and he nods his head in fervent agreement. "You're right, though. If we band together and we do this…we -can- be powerful. Not in a violent way, but…as a presence. You know what I mean?"
"I do. Its like Mahatma Gandhi said: Power is of two kinds. One is obtained by the fear of punishment and the other by acts of love. Power based on love is a thousand times more effective and permanent than the one derived from fear of punishment." Armando says, with a quiet smile as he takes the business card and puts it into his shirt pocket. "Its been a pleasure to meet you, Mister Worthington. I'll be in contact soon." he assures the other man.
"You, sir, are a breath of fresh air," Warren says, giving Armando a much more genuine smile. Apparently, the other man's words of wisdom seem to seed inspiration in the CEO. "Warren, please," he says finally. "Always Warren." Again, he reaches out and takes Armando's hand to shake it firmly. "It's been a sincere honor. I look forward to working with you more, Armando. Thank you." There's no telling what he's thanking the man for, but it's sincere. "As will I." The paper with Armando's name and number is taken then. "I look forward to working with you closely, Armando. I have a feeling we're going to do great things." With a nod and a hopeful smile, Warren backs away and then turns, moving to leave.
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