sabinetzin | The Adventures of Magento

So there are two things I'm writing, a thing I'm supposed to write, and I should have been in bed two hours ago, but here is this instead.

When he steps through the portal, a blue-skinned woman behind him, the very first words out of his mouth are, "What are you wearing?"

Erik stares at him blankly. He's older than Erik is, and as far as his clothes and armament go, he looks very, very different. Erik regroups, going back to the grand speech he had prepared for this particular occasion. "You must wonder why we've brought you to-"

"Shh," he says, waving his hand. "That is not what I asked."

Erik purses his lips. "There are only fifteen hours until Xavier-"

"Honey, there is always more time to fight Charles Xavier," he says, rolling his eyes. "That old queen can wait. Now I'm gonna ask you again: what are you wearing?"

Erik looks down at his costume. "What's wrong with it?"

He sighs. "Okay, if we only have fifteen hours, that is not enough time, but let me focus on the most obvious and pressing issue here: why are there are horns on your head?"

"What?" Erik says, nonplussed.

"Give me one damn reason you have horns on your helmet," he demands. "Bitch, you are not Loki. You do not have an excuse." He frowns. "Come to that, I don't know what Loki's excuse is either. But he is tragic, and his whole family, they invented epic drama, so I just stay away from that."

Riptide puts his hand over his face. "I told you this was a terrible idea."

"Excuse me?" he says. "Is this how it's gonna be? Let us get something out of the way right now." He holds up his hand, and a piece of metal shoots out of his gauntlet, wrapping around Riptide's throat; he lifts Riptide off the ground by it, choking him. "I am flamboyantly gay. If you look up 'flaming' in the dictionary there is a picture of me holding a cosmo dancing in a cage. If you haven't figured that out by now, you are blind and deaf. But I will fuck your whole world up if I want to, and I will start with you."

Erik looks at Riptide's throat, then back to the visitor. "How does that work?"

He releases Riptide, who gasps for breath, and floats the collar over to Erik. He holds up his arm, indicating his gauntlet. "I have cartridges in here. You can roll them up, right? Because you just unfurl them as they leave." He looks pleased with himself. "I got that from Star Wars."

Erik has a sudden realization. "What am I supposed to call you? I assume your name is Erik Lehnsherr, and we can't very well refer to both of ourselves as Magneto-"

He sighs heavily. "I did not just hear you call yourself Magneto."

Erik throws up his hands. "What's wrong with that?"

"You control metal," he says. "You might as well call yourself Metallo and get it over with." He looks around Erik to Mystique. "We gonna have a talk about this afterwards, because all this couldn't have happened overnight. At some point you must have realized he couldn't make his own decisions."

"Then who are you?" Erik challenges.

"The one and only Magento," he says, taking a bow. "And this is Miss Raven Darkholme," he says, putting a hand on the small of her back and leading her forward, "and I suggest you do not touch her inappropriately, or she will snap your neck and we will laugh about it later over drinks. Okay, now what is this about Xavier?"

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From:

dizmo

Helmet horns. This is a tragedy that can be avoided with the judicious use of a Sassy Gay Friend.

sabinetzin

Every year, dozens of superheros and villains are afflicted by helmet horns, a completely preventable condition. Have you talked to your straight friends about the dangers of helmet horns? You'll be glad you did.