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Crystal has been busy lately. Things at the Xavier Institute keep her relatively busy, even if they're more or less mundane. And in truth, she avoids the city. Since trips to the clean air of Asgard became more awkward once things fell apart, she's more careful about her trips into the city. But things are happening in the world. Big things. And before she takes action, Crystal wants to speak with her cousin, to get his thoughts on the matter.
She's cleaned up before she came to the place Medusa found for the king, wearing a dark green long-sleeved turtleneck sweater with a full, calf-length skirt in deep gold wool for the the cooler weather. Brown knee-high boots protect her feet, and her hair is half-back, away from her features. She knocks lightly, though she doesn't wait for a response before she starts to step inside. "Blackagar? It's Crystal…"
*
This place in New York City was not Blackagar's first choice of settling; however Medusa had been adament about the necessity of some kind of embassy amongst the humans and the mutants. It was not the first time the man had visited the city in his ten years of exile, but it had been some time. The pollution was much worse than he remembered leading to him taking regular sabbaticals out of the city to the ocean itself via boat before returning.
At present, he is in the room that serves as his study looking over various newspapers that had been supplied from around the world, thumbing through the various articles in a couple of different languages. The knock and entrance of Crystal draws his eyes upwards and he smiles, nodding towards the chair nearest to where he is sitting. «Come.» It was not Medusa, but the years together allowed the way to speak without words; the postures and the behaviors of silent communication.
*
Crystal closes the door behind herself, coming over to wrap an arm around his shoulders in a brief hug first. "I'll clean the place up before I leave," she promises, wrinkling her nose at the smell of the city. It's a delaying action, but it's an improvement over the full force of pollution in the city. Only then does she drop into the chair, looking over the array of papers.
"They've finally realized they're not alone," she says quietly, brows furrowing in concern. "I saw a Skrull last week, Blackagar. Johnny Storm flew off with it, but I heard the government came and collected it afterwards."
*
Blackagar turns the paper over that was nearby, revealing the headline to be that of the rally having been disrupted by an alien falling from the sky; apparently he was at least in the loop to that end. His expression matches, «Yes, I know.» The skepticism is still on his eyes however, «But I do not believe they just realized it. There is too much evidence on this world to be blind to the presence of others. Maybe not the common person, but the governments? I do not believe their ignorance.»
He turns over a few more newspapers to fold them and set them to the side, leaning back in his seat to study Crystal for long moments. For this, he reaches for a slate so that he can write rather than rely on expressions. «You have been among them quite a bit.»
*
"You think so?" Crystal looks at the papers, quiet as she thinks it over. "Some of it, maybe. But why go public with it now? Why not cover this up with some story? Why not just say it was a mutant? Unless for some reason the government has suddenly decided to protect mutants by not throwing them under the bus, which would also be new."
Crystal may not have been prepared to take a throne herself, but she knows what matters. She knows how to support. "I've been among some of them quite a bit," she smiles faintly as she leans over to read the slate. "And really? Them? We're not so different from humanity, Blackagar."
*
His head shakes slowly and he erases the slate before beginning to write on it again, it takes a bit longer but then Blackagar holds it out for Crystal to read. «I mean the mutants.» That being the first line. His expression remains passive and calm as he let's her look over the rest. «We are not that different, but we have different objectives. Our ways are not meant for this world. That is something that has been forgotten. We are exiles here. Not residents. Not participants any more than we must. When we retake Attilan, Attilan is the focus. Otherwise, there is no purpose to free it from Maximus.»
There's a patient look on his face, but one that is expectant.
*
"Oh." Crystal flushes slightly, looking away. "Well. Ten years away from home, Blackagar. You found your comfort there in the mountains, with those people. I spent so long looking for Medusa. When I found the Institute, it was so much like home. People with powers. A safe place for them to be. To learn. Where I didn't have to hide who I was."
Tucking her hair behind her ear, she turns back to face him once more. "This world is our world, Blackagar. We do live here. Where else would we go, to fight the Kree's wars?"
*
«This world's problems are only our problems when they spill to our doorstep.» Blackagar writes quickly on the slate and looks at Crystal steadily. He then resumes writing. «If you, and your sister, want to be of this world, then why come and seek me out? A heart of two worlds is divided. I will not subject our people to a civil war out of pride or a sense of entitlement. I will do it, because it is what is best for our people. We will not plunge the Inhumans into conflict with each other only to turn around and repeat it again because the humans and mutants cannot coexist.»
The chalk breaks at the end from how hard he presses it and then he looks towards Crystal steadily. He is not angry, he rarely got angry as a child. Not a good state for him to be in. Reaching out, he grabs the paper with the alien story on it and looks at Crystal, pointing to his handwriting written on it, circled. «Us Next?»
*
Crystal shakes her head, watching the words scrawl across the slate. "Maximus isn't a better option, Blackagar, he was ready to sell us back to the Kree," she starts to protest, sighing heavily when he reaches for the paper.
"Us next is what I'm afraid of, yes," she agrees quietly. "But if there are Kree as well? How long do you think we can stay a secret? The world is getting smaller every day. There are fewer and fewer places to hide. If they find Attilan, where will we run to next?" She doesn't wait for an answer, pressing forward with a finger set to the newspaper. "Or we can step forward. We can control our own narrative. Step in to help them against this 'alien threat' that we don't want here any more than they do."
*
Blackagar's head shakes slowly at Crystal. He writes out, «Maximus is not the better option. But people /will/ die Crystal. I will have to kill my brother. His followers will be brought into account. If we do this, we must have conviction.» He pauses then, looks her steadily in the eyes and writes a bit more. «Why are you so tied to these people? Will you place yours above them?»
*
"I'm tied to this planet," Crystal counters. "And if the Kree and the Skrull are here and pick a fight with humanity, I don't see it ending much better for us." She falls back against her chair, tucking one foot beneath herself. "And I was willing to sell myself to Asgard for aid for Attilan. I'm willing to make sacrifices for our people. But when it's done, we're still going to live here, on this planet, where we're vastly outnumbered by humanity. Why make that more difficult for ourselves than we need to?"
*
«We have been present on this planet for long before the humans or the mutants ever walked it or understood it.» Blackagar writes thoughtfully. «Both you, and your sister, are tied to them very tightly. I have yet to determine why. I must always make certain that the decisions I make are done without bias, without thought of what goes on beyond the interests of the Inhumans. Should the Kree return here, we will deal with them as we must. Or any that would come here. But we are not to reveal what we know to the humans. Or the Mutants. Until I have decided it is necessary.»
*
"Well, that's going to be unfortunate, because at least some of the mutants know," Crystal retorts, pushing up out of her chair to pace a few steps. "I would have asked, but you were hiding." Arms crossed over her chest, she turns back toward him. "And this is in the interest of the Inhumans, Blackagar. What's happening with the mutants, right now? That will be us. We're more advanced. We're better organized. But everything behind it is the same. They will envy us, they will fear us. But we can't stay invisible forever."
*
«Exactly. But their fear of us, and hatred of us, will be that much greater because of how we came to be.» Blackagar writes down while looking at Crystal. «Our past, our histories, are not yours to share with whomever you deem. We have remained invisible because our ancestors, our parents, understood discretion. The world may be getting smaller, but there is no need for us to hasten it.»
*
"Coming from someone who's spent the last ten years refusing to fight for our home so that we don't have to be discreet?" Crystal's eyes narrow, temper flaring. "I'm not sorry." She stalks to the window, cracking it open to start clearing out the polluted air in the room, ionizing the air, pulling the impurities from it. It's a delicate and complicated process, but one that she handles expertly. "Our home has been denied us for ten years, Blackagar," she says quietly, her back to him. "You can't blame us for building something else. People can't live alone."
*
It is a bit awkward, with her back turned he cannot easily respond so instead he scribbles away on his slate with the chalk for long moments, the writing sounding rather extensive. Then he simply sets it on the desk near where Crystal is at by the window and turns, making his way for the door.
«You are right. /People/ cannot be alone. That is why I am not a person. People don't kill their parents. People don't leave their friends. And People don't live every waking moment terrified of a momentary mistake that would destroy the entire planet. You see home. I see a prison. A return to everything that has led me on this life path. I refuse to fight, because if I do bring War, dearest Crystal, what will be left standing?»
*
It's the hardest part of staying angry with him. It's hard to be angry at someone who's so practiced at staying cool. Especially when it takes him time to formulate a response. Crystal hesitates, but she reaches for the slate, eyes scanning over the words written there until her anger fades to sadness.
"Blackagar." She turns from the window, setting the slate aside. "I'm sorry they told you that all your life. I'm sorry for the things your gifts have done to your life. But you are…Your parents didn't die because of you or because of your gifts. They died because of gravity. Because of something that had nothing to do with your gift. You used your voice perfectly. You've spent your entire life learning how not to use it. Maybe- Maybe instead of hating yourself, instead of being afraid of what you might do with it, it's time to practice using it."
*
He stops at the door for a moment and seems to be in contemplation. Walking back he picks up the slate and erases, before writing on it. «You must never tell Medusa.» Never a good way of starting off a conversation. «When I was in hiding from Maximus' assassins I met a woman. One that I thought perhaps I could have feelings for, that perhaps I could love. But I was forced to use my voice to save us both. Even though she had gifts as well, the look of terror on her face at what I was able to do with a whisper alone…»
He looks up at Crystal then, the sadness and pain quite clear. «I cannot use it. Your words are kind, but I cannot.»
*
"Blackagar, if she was afraid of you, then she didn't know you." Crystal reaches a hand for his cheek, chin falling for the briefest look of gentle chiding. "And Medusa would never be afraid of you, for the record. But. That is neither here nor there, and I'm not going to judge your romantic life. Not after…" She trails off, waving her other hand with a flick of her fingers. That's a much longer conversation, after all.
"You are the strongest, bravest person I know," she says quietly. "You have more control than any hundred men. But when they taught you control, they taught you fear. They taught you self-loathing. Your control belongs to you, but neither of those things do. I am not afraid of what you can do, Blackagar. I believe in you. If you're afraid of what you can do, then let us explore it. I'll bring Lockjaw. We'll go to quiet places. And we'll practice."
*
«Failure is not a choice I can accept in this, Crystal.» Some is written, some is simply expressed. «All these other issues; I will think on them. But until Attilan is safe, until the people are free, we cannot be diverted from our purpose. I have tried to.. harness my energy in different ways with no success. But the monks I was with believed it was possible, so I will continue.» He manages a small smile, «For us.»
*
"It's all in service of that," Crystal says quietly, nodding once. The last of the air and the dirt flow out the window, leaving the apartment smelling fresh and clean with the faint tang of ionization in the air. "I believe in you, Blackagar," she says quietly, leaning in to give him a hug. "You should too. And in a few other people, for that matter. It's good for you." Stepping back, she turns toward the door. "Have faith," she murmurs before she slips back out into the world.
*