Out of Your Mind || Mihai

[Alfred F. Jones]

it's a

revolution

Word count: 676

Tags: Worldie, Mihai

Notes: Alfred's using a different last name for his current job.

It was becoming clearer to Alfred with every passing moment that he hated waiting.

Of course, this was something he had known for most of his life. Alfred had never been the most patient man to wander the Earth and that wasn't about to start now.

But curiosity, and a sense of determination, had eventually won out. Which was why Alfred was sitting here, drinking his second cup of coffee, and waiting.

It was a nice café. At this hour of the day, there weren't a lot of people milling around, a fact that Alfred had made sure of before deciding on the meeting place. And they had good coffee. That was always essential.

His briefcase sat net to him. Alfred himself, dressed in a pale blue collared shirt with rolled up sleeves and a loosened tie, was the epitome of a relaxed businessman on break.

That couldn't possibly be farther from the truth. Alfred was far from a businessman. He'd never gone to college or even graduated from high school. He was smart, and a tech wiz, but businessman was certainly a stretch.

Of course, he knew exactly how to make himself one. That was one of the most beautiful things about being a conman. He could pretend to be someone else.

At any rate, the innocent looking briefcase was chockfull of documents that would at the very least earn him a lengthly interrogation at the police station. But that was thinking optimistically. To be very honest, he'd probably be marked as a criminal for the rest of his life and convicted for treason and conspiracy.

Alfred's lip curled in distaste. He had to stop thinking about the consequences. They didn't really matter to him after all--no one would miss him if he was gone. It must be the anxiety of the meeting getting to him. He took a slow sip of his coffee, allowing the caffeine to calm his nerves.

Alfred's thoughts shifted to the person he had arranged to meet here today. Mihai Cristian Eliade. The full name sounded both foreign and familiar to Alfred. He'd never called Mihai by his full name, indeed, he had no business knowing it.

He bit his lip. Alfred didn't like the research or the prying. He knew he wouldn't want anyone to do that to him. But he had to be sure...you couldn't just trust anyone.

At any rate, Alfred hadn't done much background research. Just his full name. Alfred preferred to get to know the person themselves. History didn't always define who you were or who you could become. He'd gotten to know Mihai over the past two months or so and he liked him. He also knew that while Mihai was one of the mutants working for the government, he had little to no loyalty to them.

Maybe someday, he could join the FF. It was a shitty, improbably thought, but it was possible.

It would all, Alfred supposed, depend on Mihai. On what he chose. On how things went today and the next time--possibly the last time--they met.

Gosh, he hated waiting.

Alfred didn't have many choices after he told Mihai. Either Mihai said yes or he said no. If Mihai said yes, Alfred would keep his position for another week or two. If Mihai said no, Alfred would leave. And if Mihai couldn't make up his mind...well, at this stage there really wasn't anything Alfred could do or risk. He'd have to go.

Betrayal. The thought made Alfred's blood run cold. If Mihai betrayed him...well, Alfred had already made plans. His few months as a government employee wouldn't go to waste. He would simply disappear for a while and become someone new.

Life wasn't worth living without a couple of risks, was it?

Alfred shook his head. Why was he even thinking about all these possibilities? The world was full of them and anything could happen. No one ever really knew.

Alfred gulped down the last bit of his coffee before waving at the waitress. "One more," he said, smiling.

i suppose

by Worldie for Leia

[Mihai C. Eliade]

Mirror on the wall

Frame the picture

Reflect this kiss to wish us all

Goodnight

He didn't get invited out much. This wasn't something he felt very sorry for—it was just a fact. With the distance he kept from people, it wasn't a surprise that none considered him close enough to invite him to a lunch date or a coffee break, which was why he found this situation to be rather… odd. Alfred had invited him out on a couple occasions before, which was, in Mihai's opinion, already quite exceptional and much more than what he usually got, but he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow when Alfred would not simply state his intentions, insisting on the day of their meeting to be the day that anything was revealed. Mihai's curiousity was, at least, duly piqued, and—well—how could he resist an invitation like that?

Of course, Mihai had his suspicions, but he never did linger long on them. If Alfred was up to something, it was beyond his caring what the specifics were, as there was little to be done that could hurt him beyond what he already had to deal with. On the other hand, havoc might even prove to be the slightest bit beneficial to him (providing that he was not somehow implicated), and if not that, then at least amusing. And if Alfred was intending neither of those things..? Then, he supposed, life would continue on as usual, as it always did. Either way, he did not find much reason for him to spend his energy micro-analyzing suspicions, but neither did he glean any useful information from those notions.

He made his way into the shopping area of the city, tense and definitely more than a couple minutes late. He tugged the scarf around his neck a little higher up so that it nearly covered his chin. It wasn't as though he were nervous about being seen in public (even though some humans gave him trouble for it) but he never liked crowds, and the shopping district was usually full of them during the day and the area itself came with rules that often complicated things for him. He had to resist looking over his shoulder and flinching at any noise that was just a little bit too loud, but luckily he had good practice controlling his anxious habits by now. Still, he would have much preferred it if Alfred had chosen a less busy area of the city.

At last, he came to a halt at the coffee shop Alfred had named. A glance inside showed that Alfred was already there, and on his second cup of coffee by the looks of it. For a brief moment, Mihai paused, merely studying the other man. He was dressed in business attire, but the sleeves were rolled up and the tie loosened. The observation came to him that the few times they'd met up someplace away from city hall, Alfred had always been dressed much more casually than this, and Mihai wondered of this were merely by chance. It was likely nothing that would provide a clue as to what Alfred wanted to discuss, but about that there was only one way to find out. His hand faltered only slightly as he pushed open the door do the café.

He grinned when he caught Alfred's eye, and raised a hand in greeting. "Don't you think you're a little overdressed?" he asked as he approached, the flirtation evident only in the curled corners of his lips. Though Mihai wouldn't complain about the state of Alfred's clothing since he did not, by any means, look bad in a suit. "You were rather mysterious the last time we talked," he said, drawing out the opposite chair and sitting. "Not that I don't appreciate the invitation."

He fell silent as the waitress Alfred had ordered from earlier walked towards their table, coffee on tray. She paused beside them, and Mihai knew immediately by her gaze that her attention had been captured by the dog-tags hanging over his chest. He didn't need to be looking at her very intently to see her brows furrow, her lips purse in disapproval, and though he feigned nonchalance, he was biting the inside of his lip and fighting the anxiety curling in his gut. He didn't like being the object of such close inspection. Most humans tended to be much more subtle about it, but the shopping district was high-end, and the higher-end you went, the less tolerance was shown. He was lucky that Alfred had got there before him, that he hadn't had to sit and wait alone. He could only hope that she would not decide to make a scene of it.

After a few tense seconds, she turned away and rather stiffly set Alfred's coffee down in front of him, then left without so much as another word. The rigidity drained out of Mihai's posture and he unfurled the fists he hadn't known his fingers had curled into. Taking a deep breath, he pieced his composure back together, then smiled at Alfred as though the incident hadn't occurred at all. "So, what's the occasion?"

Word Count: 845

Notes: Alfred F. Jones. Here you are! \ o /

by worldie on iof

[Alfred F. Jones]

it's a

revolution

Word count: 738

Tags: Mihai C. Eliade

Notes:

Mihai raised a hand in greeting when he entered the coffee shop and Alfred gave him a smile in return. Mihai looked like he was in a good mood. Maybe this would be easier than Alfred had originally thought.

"Don't you think you're a little overdressed?" Alfred looked at his attire. Was he really that overdressed? It was true that most of the times he met Mihai outside of work he was dressed pretty casually...

"Nah," Alfred said breezily. "I had a couple errands to run, didn't have time to change." Not the full truth, not really a lie. The way most things seemed to be around Alfred.

"You were rather mysterious the last time we talked." Mihai sat down across from Alfred easily. "Not that I don't appreciate the invitation."

Alfred thought about this statement for a moment with mild curiosity. Compared to most mutants, Mihai had a lot of freedom. It was only due to his job (if it could be called that) that Mihai was even able to meet with Alfred today without supervision. Alfred wondered if Mihai appreciated his freedom or if he felt a little like an outcast as a result of it.

The waitress returned with Alfred's coffee and as Alfred looked up to thank her, he realized that the woman's eyes were concentrated a little hatefully on Mihai. He felt a flare of annoyance, but he made no comment. Mihai didn't exactly look delighted with the treatment either, but after a few tense seconds, the waitress left without another word.

Mihai seemed to relax as soon as she left and Alfred felt a little better. Perhaps a different meeting place would've worked better, but at this point, Alfred figured that it was this or nothing.

"So, what's the occasion?" It was like they had never been interrupted at all. Mihai's smile was back on his face and Alfred smiled back as he picked up his coffee.

"Well..." Alfred took a sip of his coffee. He had been considering how to approach Mihai on this subject for a while. "I haven't really told anyone yet, but I'm planning to resign." Alfred's tone was cheerful, but with just a hint of seriousness in it.

He watched Mihai carefully, wondering how the mutant would react. Alfred set his coffee down and continued.

"It's been good these past few months," Alfred said, careful of his wording, "but I've finally come to the conclusion that this job really isn't the right fit for me." He gave Mihai a small smile.

"The thing is," Alfred said, getting to the real point of his original meeting with Mihai, "I have a few things I've got to take care of before I can hand in my resignation notice. One of those is a project I've been working on for a while now."

Alfred looked at his coffee. It was now or never, wasn't it? He looked up again into Mihai's eyes. "I was hoping that you would be willing to help me with the last part of it, which is the most important bit of the whole thing."

Gosh, that phrasing sounded so awkward that Alfred wanted to wince. It also sounded a tad too formal. Mihai was sure to notice. Alfred was usually pretty open and easygoing with the mutant.

"Anyways, just so you know," Alfred said before Mihai could cut in, his tone a little lighter, a little more cheerful, "I'm going to need an answer from you today. Sorry to rush you, but...there are some...grey elements to this project." He laced his fingers together, looking at Mihai straight on, both for his reaction and to emphasize his words. "If you know what I mean, that is."

...Okay. Well that was that. Alfred had officially told Mihai that he wasn't exactly an honest man. Of course, Mihai had very little to go on at this point and even though Mihai was often viewed as a little more acceptable than most mutants, no one would take his word over Alfred's. It was cruel in a way to have planned things out to work like that, but Alfred had moved past a time when he would care quite that much a while ago.

"I would explain more, but I need to know that I can trust you with helping me before I tell you any details," Alfred said. "So what do ya say? You onboard or not?" 

i suppose

by Worldie for Leia

[Mihai C. Eliade]

Mirror on the wall

Frame the picture

Reflect this kiss to wish us all

Goodnight

Mihai kept his features carefully blank as Alfred spoke, not revealing anything more than the small smile he wore by default. The first words out of the other's mouth were suspect at most, curious at best, and a skeptical eyebrow was raised. Mihai doubted any government official would have invited him out for coffee just to discuss a resignation, seeing as he had no involvement in such events whatsoever. However, he didn't interrupt with his doubts and waited wordlessly instead as Alfred went on, though he took in the way Alfred was watching him, the careful look in his eyes. It seemed that he was waiting for Mihai to let something slip, to betray a hint of what he thought about Alfred's little speech. Yet, the choice phrasing had put Mihai on guard and there was little that he would be careless enough to show beyond a mild skepticism. It was clear that Alfred wanted something of him; a game of reading between the lines, was it? He could play at that; he was good at it. He often relied on his ability to read between lines to avoid harm to himself—an ability perfected out of necessity, due to his unique status in society. Still, even as Alfred slowly articulated his plans, Mihai chose to reveal nothing.

The implications of Alfred's words—the true meaning behind the veil—were taking hazy shape the more he talked. They couldn't be taken as incriminating evidence, but the insinuation was there, hinging on the keywords of 'project' and 'grey.' So maybe Alfred wasn't being quite as upright as he pretended to be—but then again, that wasn't a possibility that had never crossed Mihai's mind. There was always a degree of curiosity associated with those employees who came out of the blue, and sometimes they became a topic of discussion for the higher-ups. Most of those authorities paid Mihai no more mind than a piece of property, thereby allowing him to overhear certain conversations: the backgrounds of some staff members here and there, a few scattered suspicions that were never followed up.

As Alfred kept speaking, Mihai pondered what course of action to take. He neither felt particularly inclined nor disinclined to come to the aid of the other. Sure, Alfred was nice and all, but he wasn't nice enough for Mihai to want to help him in his 'grey project.' Even less so since he wasn't telling Mihai any specifics, but it looked like Alfred wanted a 'yes' or 'no' answer right away. Realistically, Mihai had many reasons for holding back. Few 'projects' that someone could come up with would interest him enough to have him risk his position and luxury and relative safety to undertake them, and he didn't imagine Alfred had one that would hit the target. However, just as Alfred distrusted him (for what other reason would there be such pressure for an answer?), he did not fully trust Alfred. There was one other person who Mihai knew of who had entered into the government's employ rather suddenly, and he was not someone Mihai cared to meet. Though he didn't earnestly believe Alfred to be under the government's secret service—just an intuition, one might say—neither could he be too careful. Besides… He steepled his fingers and rested his chin on them as Alfred finished his proposition—he was curious what Alfred would do if he held out.

After a brief pause, he opened his mouth to speak. He would see how far he could push the other before he spilled his secrets, or gave up and left. "I'm afraid you'll have to be a little more specific than that," he said, then added, "sir." Alfred had seemed to have an aversion to the title, and Mihai figured it would only serve his cause in this case. It created a sense of distance, distance which he himself did not quite feel, but wanted the other to believe he did. If Alfred wanted familiarity, Mihai would give him formality instead and play his convictions against himself. "I'm sure there are people in the government who would be more than happy to find out which of their mutants are working… within the grey," he continued. It wasn't even a lie. The government was always prepared in case one of their investments decided to rebel, and the conclusions were rarely on the side of the property. Alfred should know that much, whether he was a planted agent or a shady criminal—it was a legitimate enough reason for Mihai to withhold his answer. For all he knew, this could be a test of loyalty. However, he went further still, giving Alfred an ultimatum without the answer he'd been looking for, "I can't give you an answer without knowing how reliable you are." He met Alfred's gaze head-on. Hopefully, if the other was as grey a man as he claimed to be, this would have turned the situation on its head. An indication of I don't trust you either, perhaps, in some ways, too much of a luxury for someone of Mihai's status. But he still had pride, in his own way, and it had been somewhat hurt by the assumption that he would give such an answer to someone he barely knew. "That is," he leaned back, expression hardened and a dark look shadowing his eyes, "if you're giving me a choice in this matter at all."

The implications were clear enough. Alfred was human—there were ways for him to get what he wanted from Mihai, whether he agreed or not. Threats, money, blackmail—whichever method Alfred chose, society would always be biased in his favor for the simple virtue of being human. Still, the suspicion in which his question was couched was nothing more than a front. If Mihai were any judge of character, he didn't think Alfred would do something like that. Even if his credentials and his occupations were false, Alfred seemed genuine in most of the things he said and did, so those weren't really Mihai's concerns. He was merely curious how the other would react. He wanted to know how far Alfred's friendliness went, how much he could coax out of the other, how much Alfred would be willing to give before backing off. How much could he learn?

Word Count: 1045

Notes: Alfred F. Jones. He's definitely messing with you, Al

by worldie on iof

[Alfred F. Jones]

it's a

revolution

Word count: 1104

Tags: Mihai C. Eliade

Notes: Oh Mihai. ;; Don't tease the American.

It took Mihai a moment to speak after Alfred was done, and even though it wasn't a long silence, it was enough to make Alfred wonder if he'd made a complete mistake. Mihai didn't have enough evidence to turn him in, but...

"I'm afraid you'll have to be a little more specific than that..." Oh good, an answer he was expecting. Alfred would've been suspicious if Mihai had agreed right away anyways. "...sir."

...Ouch. Alfred winced a little at the tacked on title. Mihai had never addressed Alfred that way. They weren't close, but Alfred liked to think that they weren't...that distant with each other. It was such a formal title.

"I'm sure there are people in the government who would be more than happy to find out which of their mutants are working… within the grey." That was true. Mihai would be an idiot not to think that Alfred was some sort of agent to scope out which mutants were loyal and which weren't. It had happened before. Alfred had seen it in the news. Besides, the task itself, while not one of Alfred's more reckless scams, was indeed very much illegal. Any sane person would probably be more willing to stick with an honest job. And as different as Mihai's job may have been from Alfred's, it was indeed honest.

"I can't give you an answer without knowing how reliable you are."

How reliable Alfred was. Well, that was such a vague question. But at least that gave Alfred something to think on, something to focus on. How was he going to play this out for Mihai without giving too much away? Alfred didn't think that Mihai would turn him in. He didn't seem like that sort of person and he didn't have sufficient evidence. The government would almost certainly always take a human's word above a mutant's. But it was not a risk that Alfred wanted to take at this point.

It was pretty clear that Mihai didn't trust Alfred. And why should he? So-called humans had been terrible to mutants. A couple times of going out for coffee wasn't about to change that. So how was Alfred going to get Mihai to work with him? It wasn't essential, but Alfred did want an ally. It was important to get mutants on their side while they could and Mihai was someone that Alfred would much rather have on his side than his enemy's.

"That is," Mihai's tone changed. While it had been careful and selected, it now became deeply suspicious. "If you're giving me a choice in this matter at all." His eyes narrowed, his expression hardening. The implications behind his statement were too clear.

Harsh. Alfred wondered briefly exactly what Mihai had gone through that would have him so deeply fraught with suspicion. He'd heard rumors, but there was usually little truth in them. Or perhaps it was just simply the fact that Alfred was born human and Mihai was not. It was a cruel, unequal world they were brought into. You could only live by learning the rules quickly and making do with them. Alfred knew all too well that humans could be and would be cruel, utilizing mutants however they saw fit sometimes. A prejudice that had extended from fear and hate.

"We almost always have a choice," Alfred said calmly. He really did believe that. You didn't have a choice on everything, no. You didn't choose to be born. You didn't choose to be a human, or a mutant. You didn't choose a lot of things in life...but there were a lot that you got to choose as well. Even if you made the wrong decision. Even if, in that moment, it felt like you had no choice. You almost always had a choice. "And in this case, it's no different. You can walk out now. I won't say anything." Alfred shrugged. "I'll just be gone next week and you can forget all about this.

"Or," Alfred added, "you can stay a bit, and let me tell you a little more." A little. Not a lot. No specifics. Alfred leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee slowly, allowing Mihai a little time to think, to decide.

Choices. Life so often did come down to choices.

When Mihai hadn't moved, Alfred set down his coffee cup. "My intention," Alfred said, speaking carefully, "is, quite frankly, to...ah, give back to our wonderful government." He paused for a moment, allowing those words to sink in. "In the form of taking a little...financial weight off their shoulders." It was by far, the easiest way to rebel against the government. Their financial resources. Too vulnerable for their own good.

"You want details, and you want to know how reliable I am," Alfred continued. "Well, I can't tell you how reliable I am. Not really." He shrugged. "I usually work alone, and it's not like I can refer you to anyone. I've done my research, perhaps a little more than the average man working a desk job, but that will not tell you how reliable I am either. That's an analysis you'll have to make on your own.

"As for details..." Alfred paused. His briefcase, which was right next to him, was chockfull of details. "It will not be a project that requires anything special. A little distraction, perhaps. Nothing that will put you in a particularly questionable position. I have most of what I need already."

Alfred didn't need Mihai to complete this job. He didn't even need to complete the job—Alfred just liked rubbing his presence in the government's nose a little more than necessary. A smarter man would have left it there. Alfred had come for information, most of which he had. He should just resign, hand in a few sheets of paper and leave. The best con was when a person didn't know they had been conned until much too late after all. But Alfred had never claimed to be particularly smart when it came to such matters. He liked the thrill a little too much. A little extra funding for the Freedom Fighters was always welcome.

...Not to mention, Alfred also did sort of want some money to keep himself alive.

"It's up to you, Mihai," Alfred said. He leaned forwards a little, looking Mihai in the eyes. "Pretty sure you understand why I cannot exactly discuss much more with you right now. There are people in the government, after all, who would be more than happy to find out which of their citizens were working in the grey. And I don't know how reliable you are."

i suppose

by Worldie for Leia

[Mihai C. Eliade]

Mirror on the wall

Frame the picture

Reflect this kiss to wish us all

Goodnight

He waited silently, placidly examining the other as he took in the statements that Mihai posed. Mihai could see the considerations that arose, the way Alfred tried to decide how to string his words—it meant that the matter required a certain degree of delicacy after all, and certainly of persuasion. But try as Alfred might, it wasn't good enough. The faux pas came nearly as soon as Mihai stopped speaking, and though he ensured that he kept his features carefully composed, anyone who was looking for the signs might have noticed the clench of his jaw, the slight stiffening of his spine. Choice..? Truthfully, only a human could utter the word with such confidence and to dare pretend that mutants could say it with the same! Still, he held his tongue, keeping his silence and allowing Alfred to talk on. He would be given the chance to present his own response eventually, he suspected, but even if he wasn't… Well, it wouldn't be the first time he'd objected to a human's words and said nothing against them. He did not have the luxury to speak freely.

Yet, when Alfred paused, offering him the chance to take his leave, he made no move to do so. He sat still, eyes fixated, fingers gripping at the material of his pants under the table. He could not say for certain why he didn't leave. This did not involve him, and he should not want to get involved; nothing good came out of vagaries, of defying the government. He had learnt that lesson a long time ago, in ways that this man had not and never would. And yet, he did not leave. He supposed that there was some morbid sense of curiousity that kept him chained, that same curiousity that invoked him to sneak through dark Academy halls at night, that caused him to oblige rather than reject proposals for untoward experimentation. Idly, with bitterness, he contemplated that that might be the path towards the destruction of everything he had achieved so far, but he was too tired to fight it—there were already so, so many more things to fight.

As Alfred's little speech drew to a close, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, suddenly relieved. He knew what his answer would be, if that was how the offer stood. It would be easy to reject Alfred, to get up and walk out, and perhaps he would never hear from the man again. Alfred wouldn't try to threaten him; Mihai knew that, in spite of his earlier words of suspicion. If he knew the other at all, he knew that Alfred would not stoop to such a level, and his request of Mihai was a genuine invitation—or so Mihai hoped. Truth to be told, he rather liked Alfred—the man was vibrant, optimistic, a welcome change from the usually dour individuals Mihai had to put up with—so he had no reason to sabotage the other's little farewell project, whatever it may be. But he saw no reason to help either. The way Alfred spoke, he seemed to have a plan laid out and ready to be executed by himself, and a distraction could always be easily bought with a few coins. However, in truth, wish as he may, Mihai did not think himself a good enough person to come to the other's aid even if there were dire trouble on the way. How reliable he was? Horribly unreliable.

He'd remained quiet as he thought, leaving Alfred waiting. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak, but he didn't imagine it was either of the answers Alfred expected to hear. "Let's talk about choices," he said. "You're graciously" oh, how the mockery dripped from that word! "letting me have a choice, are you?" Even as he spoke, he knew the words leaving his lips were reckless. He did not know Alfred well enough to say how he would react to these ideas, and who knew what would happen if he struck a nerve? Still, the words came, slow and deliberate as river water. "Humans seem to have a hard time grasping this, but a choice… is a lucky thing to have. Allow me to ask you a question… If, rather than letting me walk out of here, you had threatened to turn me in for one—false, of course—crime or another, and I had to choose between helping you, and the possibility of imprisonment or death or torture—is that a choice at all? Sir? You could easily get me to do your bidding. Blackmail, a threat, that would be sufficient to get me to grovel before you. I cannot fight you, I cannot harm you, I cannot touch you—not unless I want to make life miserable for myself.

"It's easy for humans to talk about choices. Your consequences are fully your responsibility, but ours aren't of our own doing. If I had a choice, do you think would I be here, sir? Do you think I would be working for this" filthy, disgusting "city? You come from a position where you can have choices, perhaps even all your life. But I do not. Not since—" not since I was eight, not since they took me from my home, "not since they found out that I am a mutant. I am a slave, sir, and as a slave, I have no choice."

He drew in a deep, shaky breath as his words petered out. His hands were clasped together on his lap, fingers clenched tight and white at the knuckles as restrained indignation thrummed beneath his flesh. The training that had been drilled into his schooling and carved into his skin urged him to look away, to lower his head and apologize for the things he oughtn't have said and were yet undeniably true. But he kept his gaze trained ahead, meeting Alfred's blue, blue eyes, unflinching with false self-assurance as he asked, "So I'm asking you again: sir, are you giving me a choice?" He allowed the words to hang in the air as he took the pause to unclench his fingers, returning to his crossed-arm posture and allowing a small smirk to take his features to counter the uncertain trembling of his hands. "Well, even if you are, I wonder if I am type of slave you would want. 'Reliable' may be written in my reports, but… my character is another issue altogether. And I don't know why you would want someone on your side who the government considers 'reliable' anyway.'"

Word Count: 1098

Notes: Alfred F. Jones

by worldie on iof

[Alfred F. Jones]

it's a

revolution

Word count: 941

Tags: Mihai C. Eliade

Notes:

Mihai was silent for a while. A long while.

...A very long while.

Alfred really hated waiting. He wondered exactly what Mihai planned to say or wanted to say and to be honest, he didn't know what would come out of the man's mouth. While he doubted that Mihai would turn him in (a security that Alfred did, to some extent, guiltily put in his higher status), Alfred did not know Mihai. Or at least, not really. Not truly.

"Let's talk about choices." Alfred blinked. Choices?

"You're graciously," the sarcasm in Mihai's voice was hard to mistake, “letting me have a choice, are you?” Clearly this conversation was not going in the direction Alfred had hoped. Inwardly, he felt himself sighing. Mihai had clearly taken offense to something Alfred had said...why didn't that surprise Alfred too much?

Mihai's words were slow and Alfred allowed himself to listen. "Humans seem to have a hard time grasping this, but a choice...is a lucky thing to have. Allow me to ask you a question... If, rather than letting me walk out of here, you had threatened to turn me in for one—false, of course—crime or another, and I had to choose between helping you, and the possibility of imprisonment or death or torture—is that a choice at all? Sir?" Alfred didn't flinch at the title, though part of him wanted to. He was oddly calm as Mihai continued. "You could easily get me to do your bidding. Blackmail, a threat, that would be sufficient to get me to grovel before you. I cannot fight you, I cannot harm you, I cannot touch you—not unless I want to make life miserable for myself."

Mihai didn't pause to collect his thoughts. It was obvious he'd been thinking about this for a while, perhaps for a long time. Alfred felt guilty. Guilty of the crimes that he, consciously or not, had committed. It was reminiscent of when he first found out about his brother. Those few days afterwards when Alfred was struggling with realizing that he'd been wrong all along. Talking with Mihai, the bitterness in the man's voice... Alfred had been a little arrogant in his phrasing earlier, hadn't he?

Alfred's face was blank as Mihai continued. "It's easy for humans to talk about choices. Your consequences are fully your responsibility, but ours aren't of our own doing. If I had a choice, do you think I would be here, sir? Do you think I would be working for this city? You come from a position where you can have choices, perhaps even all your life. But I do not. Not since—" Here Mihai hesitated, clearly remembering something unpleasant. "Not since they found out that I am a mutant. I am a slave, sir, and as a slave, I have no choice."

Despite Mihai's brave words, his speech had clearly taken a lot of effort and he drew a shaky breath. "So I'm asking you again: sir, are you giving me a choice?" He stared straight at Alfred as he posed his question once again, smirking ever so slightly. "Well, even if you are, I wonder if I am the type of slave you would want. 'Reliable' may be written in my reports, but... my character is another issue altogether. And I don't know why you would want someone on your side who the government considers 'reliable' anyway."

Alfred was quiet for a moment as he took in everything Mihai had said. There was a lot, and to be quite honest, Alfred wasn't completely certain how to address it.

"I don't think of you as a slave, Mihai." The wording made Alfred wince a little, but he continued. "Perhaps you are to the government, but...that's not how I define you.

"I'm not giving you a choice because of how the world views you. I'm not giving you a choice because I think I'm some charitable, kind human being. I'm giving you a choice because you're a person. And people, regardless of what the government says, deserve a choice."

Alfred was more hesitant as he continued. "I know you've gone through a lot more than I have. A lot worse...and for a lot longer. It's...impossible for me to completely understand, because I've never been in your situation.

"You don't have a reason to trust me or my promises. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. I honestly doubt you do.

"As for your reports..." Alfred bit his lip. "I like coming to judgments by myself nowadays. I don't really care too much about what the government says about you. And I think they're wrong."

Bold words to say in public, but Alfred's voice was quiet for once and the waitress was out of sight. So he allowed himself to say them to Mihai. It wasn't quite directly opposing in the government (perhaps opposing their propaganda), but the Russian government could lock people away for just about anything.

Alfred folded his hands on the table gently. "So that's that. You've got a choice...maybe you can give me an answer. I won't win you in deep, psychological talks Mihai; I'm pretty sure you've proven that already. I'd be willing to talk, of course, but I really don't think that you'll be all that satisfied with what I've got to say."

He let Mihai take that in, giving him a little time. He could already guess the answer, but Alfred supposed this was all he could do.

"I guess this is where you decide. And then I suppose we'll walk out of this café and continue on based on that decision. It's your choice, Mihai. I'll accept it either way."

i suppose

by Worldie for Leia

[Mihai C. Eliade]

Mirror on the wall

Frame the picture

Reflect this kiss to wish us all

Goodnight

It would be a lie to say the pause from Alfred gave him no satisfaction, albeit a rather bitter sense of it. There was always a little glimmer of enjoyment, of pride, whenever he was able to render someone speechless with his words—a self-absorbed thing, no doubt, yet if it wasn't a little exercise in power in a world where he had none. He was being mean though, at least he had the awareness to know that. Alfred had always been kind to him and it was obvious he had good intentions, but nothing left a worse taste in Mihai's mouth than well-intentioned humans who just didn't understand what they were dealing with.

"I don't think of you as a slave, Mihai. Perhaps you are to the government, but...that's not how I define you," Alfred began. Thank you. Thank you very much, Mihai thought to himself. If only what you thought of me actually made a damn difference. A show of gratitude would've been a lie, and he didn't want to fake his gratitude at a time when he felt none, especially since right now he didn't need to, and so he opted to say nothing instead. He couldn't resist a quiet scoff, however, his opinion of Alfred's sentiment written in the slight narrowing of his eyes.

Nevertheless, Mihai didn't interrupt him. He listened as Alfred spoke, his eyes locked on the steam rising from the coffee cup across the table, silently weighing Alfred's words. They weren't anything special. Mihai had heard it from every liberal before: you're a person, you're just like us, you deserve X and Y because we both bleed red. Except he wasn't like them, and maybe he did deserve those things (he wasn't sure, he didn't feel like he did) but no one made truly free choices anyway. He couldn't help it—he resented it when people talk like that. If they meant what they said, mutants would be free, he wouldn't have to be dealing with this shit, sitting in a coffee shop negotiating his boundaries with someone who could bring all sorts of misery down on his head. Even if he didn't think Alfred would actually do it.

Yet, despite his cynical reaction to Alfred's words, he was beginning to relax. The tenseness was slowly draining from his shoulders and his legs, from his fingers which clutched his shirt to keep from shaking. Maybe he was giving Alfred too little credit for listening to him at all, for not getting angry with him, for not screaming. It was what most humans would do—sometimes even kind people—whether or not he "deserved" it. Yet, Alfred's tone was calm and reasonable (even self-reflective at points, did he dare to say?), and Mihai's agitation wore off as more words were directed to him.

"You don't have a reason to trust me or my promises," Alfred said, and at that point Mihai even managed a small smile.

"I don't think you're lying," he returned. He didn't add that calling it trust would be a bit of a stretch, but at least he trusted that Alfred wouldn't turn him in or that he wouldn't turn out to be a government spy. It wasn't like Mihai had known him for long, but during his days at Weeds, he had grown interested in learning about magic, which had included lessons about how to read people for all the psychic-y types. It was almost a matter of survival now, to be able to do it and to do it well—not only to predict when to back off an irritated supervisor, but to learn secrets as well. And there Alfred was, his posture open and relaxed, his eyes steady—the cues of someone telling the utter truth.

"I don't think you're clever enough for that," Mihai said with a small smirk, but the statement itself was more or less a jest. "Or maybe more like too soft," he added. But the truth of it was that Alfred was either too soft or he wasn't; if Mihai's observations were right, then much of what Alfred was was precisely as on the surface—idealistic, maybe to the point of slight naïveté, extroverted, kind… maybe with some secrets of his own. If Mihai's observations were wrong, however… He didn't want to think about the consequences involved with that.

"I don't really care too much about what the government says about you. And I think they're wrong," Alfred continued, and Mihai couldn't resist another wry little comment at that.

"Well, you'd hope, at least. Otherwise you'd be in trouble," he said drily. He was nowhere near as loyal to the government as they liked to believe, but—well—he wasn't as vulnerable as he made himself out to be, either. He had at least one or two people he could turn to who would at least want an investigation if Mihai ever leaked this information, who would take his word over that of an office's newbie. But Alfred didn't need to know that, especially not since Mihai was planning on keeping this little scheme between them. He liked to see the government's pockets suffer at least as much as Alfred did.

But that was the question, wasn't it? Would he do whatever Alfred wanted to ask him to? Alfred had offered him a choice; regardless of how he felt about it, he'd be an idiot not to take it. Yet, he wasn't sure about the choice himself, he just knew that one thing was for certain: he wouldn't do it unconditionally. He would be equally an idiot to offer his services without something in return, now that he was actually talking to someone who was willing to buy them. Did he dare to try? He worried at his lip as he weighed the possibilities. He didn't want the conversation to suddenly take the wrong turn (anymore than it had) if his attempt at dictating the parameters offended Alfred… But he'd also been remarkably patient with what Mihai had been saying up until now. What would he have to lose by pushing it one step further?

"I think you know well enough how dangerous it is to get on the government's wrong side," he began cautiously. His eyes scanned Alfred's face for his reaction, ready to backtrack if it became necessary. "Especially since you can disappear, and I'm stuck here for who knows how long." Until he was sixty or a hundred if he was lucky. On his worse days, he'd wonder if his ability would cure old age as well, but that wasn't something Alfred needed to know either. "Normally, I'd say no. Even if you just want me to steal a letter with someone's signature on it, the risk is too high. They could do a lot of things to make me regret it if I ever get found out, including if they ever get their hands on you and… make you talk, or find out all your secrets." Mind readers and torture cases, the possibilities to discover things people didn't want to be discovered was almost limitless when it came to mutant abilities. He himself was intimately familiar with the latter.

He uncrossed his arms and let his hands settle in his lap, where the fingers of one tugged absently at the sleeve of the other. "But you've been nice to me," he continued—both the truth and a bit of honey slipped on to coat his following words, "and I think this could be mutually beneficial." He paused, taking a deep breath. It was now or never. He'd never really tried to manipulate a human like this before, but he had to take a chance anyway if it meant that one of his few wishes could be fulfilled. "So how about it? Are you willing to offer me something in return?"

Word Count: 1312

Notes: Alfred F. Jones

by worldie on iof

[Alfred F. Jones]

it's a

revolution

Word count: 786

Tags: Mihai C. Eliade

Notes:

Alfred observed Mihai carefully. The man, like many others, was hard to persuade. And Alfred knew, oh Alfred knew very well that some people simply were beyond persuasion. Alfred wasn't exactly driving a great bargain either. Risking one's life for some ideological possibility...well. Even Alfred, as much as he loved the U.S., knew that freedom wasn't the only thing the Revolutionary War had been fought for.

Still. He could hope. Alfred still bought into that.

Alfred wasn't going to lie and say he didn't have his fingers crossed that Mihai would help him. At least the man was listening. Which was about as much as Alfred could hope for, he supposed. The man was sharp, attentive, but as Alfred droned on, he seemed to relax a little. Alfred almost, almost felt like he'd passed a test of some sort...but perhaps that was too much to hope for with Mihai.

Mihai was such an odd man. Alfred couldn't help but wonder what he'd been through. After all...what Alfred saw of Mihai was just a facade, wasn't it? A mask of bravery and confidence. And certainly, Mihai was confident. Though...Alfred had seen a lot more of who he thought Mihai was underneath in this one conversation than he had the many times they'd spoken before.

"I don't think you're lying," Mihai commented. Alfred couldn't help but brighten slightly at that. Well at least— "I don't think you're clever enough for that. Or maybe more like too soft."

"Gee, thanks," Alfred said automatically. But Mihai's small smirk made the corner of his mouth twitch ever so slightly. What Alfred had thought before was true, he was sure, just hearing him say those words. Ever so more slightly relaxed.

Mihai was an interesting man. Alfred didn't expect their relationship to extend much further beyond this meeting and perhaps, if Mihai agreed, this con. Unless, of course, Mihai was willing to risk a little more and piss off the government further. But that wasn't a step that many people were willing to take. Not without a hell lot more persuasion and time. So Alfred set that idea on the back burner.

Mihai was quiet for a moment before he spoke up. The man's words were careful, keeping constant eye contact with Alfred. Alfred met his gaze evenly as Mihai talked. "Normally, I'd say no. They could do a lot of things to make me regret it if I ever got found out, including if they ever get their hands on you and...make you talk, or find out all your secrets."

Alfred didn't miss Mihai's point. Alfred thought back to what his father had told him a long time ago. “All criminals are caught at some point.” Not necessarily statistically true, but it was very much a possibility. Alfred wasn't one to talk...but then again...Russia wasn't exactly known for its outstanding human rights.

He wouldn't be caught.

He just wouldn't.

Naive. Cocky. But he wouldn't. Not this time.

"I think," Mihai said cautiously, "this could be mutually beneficial."

A proposal. Alfred wasn't surprised that Mihai wanted something...though Alfred hadn't the faintest idea what he could provide to Mihai that the man would want. Alfred could not give him freedom. He doubted that government contracted mutants were permitted to use money. So what was Mihai thinking of?

"I am," Alfred said carefully, "within reason." His brow furrowed a little. "I'm not sure what you have in mind or what I could do for you...but if it is within my means, I'd be willing to."

He really couldn't...make any promises on that front. It really...completely depended on what Mihai was suggesting. And that, Alfred could not tell. He did not know Mihai well enough to know what the man wanted, what the man was willing to risk his life for. All Alfred could think of wanting in his position would be freedom. Freedom from whatever hell the government deemed acceptable. But Alfred was fairly certain that both he and Mihai were well aware that that was something that Alfred could not do for Mihai. Not now. If the Freedom Fighters could get their act together...but operating the Freedom Fighters was so much more complex than Alfred had originally anticipated.

Beyond that, Alfred hadn't any idea what he could do. What did he have to offer at all? Mihai wasn't an idiot, he would've thought this through. And from how quickly he'd come to this conclusion, it was obvious that it was something that Mihai valued highly.

"You're going to have to tell me more," Alfred said. "I'm not going to make you a promise I'm not confident I can keep. I'll tell you if I can do it if you can be a little more specific."

i suppose

by Worldie for Leia

[Mihai C. Eliade]

He let out a sigh of relief when Alfred agreed. He hadn't known he'd been so nervous, but he supposed he was–it wasn't exactly safe to try to coax humans into deals, after all. He was lucky that Alfred was being patient, and apparently considered him worthy of some compensation for his help. How much further could he push this? He supposed he wouldn't be so confident in stating his desires out loud, to bargain for them, if he hadn't at least known Alfred somewhat. Assuming that not all that he knew was wrong. He wasn't even completely certain that he wasn't wrong–this situation could still easily turn on its head, and he'd end up fucked to hell in ten different ways.

Alfred had asked him for details. He thought immediately that revealing them would be a huge risk–not only for him, but for whom this concerned–and he felt something twist in his stomach. Was it worth it to trust Alfred? Could he risk that? What if Alfred wasn't who he said he was–well, he probably wasn't, but if he wasn't so against the government as he claimed? Should he lie, make up some other demand, until he figured out whether Alfred was trustworthy? But there could be help so close at his fingertips, and he wouldn't want to chance Alfred's generosity…

He was silent as he weighed his options, worrying at his bottom lip and displaying a small, troubled frown between his brows. He could do this, perhaps, in a way that could keep the other party's identity hidden. He wanted to believe Alfred, wanted to trust him, wanted an ally (he had so precious few of those), but he couldn't risk revealing that last piece of information yet. He could give Alfred more details, test the waters, and if he was fucked over, then so be it. As long he kept that person safe.

And if it worked? If his leap of faith were to pay off? He dared not to speculate. There were still too many things that could go wrong, and he didn't know what he would do if he were to imagine the taste of success only to have the expectation collapse around his feet.

He inhaled deeply, fixing his eyes on Alfred's again, then leaned in bit by bit and waited for Alfred to mirror his movement. At first, the words refused to form. It was as though his breath had been stolen from him, voice sticking in his throat before it finally slid away and passed through his lips.

"I want you to make someone disappear."

He whispered the words as reverently as a prayer. It wasn't wrong. It suited his request–a plea for deliverance that might be heard by a human when no God ever did. It left his mouth like water dripping from a cracked glass, and when the last drop fell, he slowly sat back again.

His fingers were clenched tight into fists, white at the knuckles, and he imagined his face must be the same shade. Doubt was far from absent–it rejoiced in twisting knots in his gut–but he had made his decision to speak, and to speak honestly. If he slowed his words to think about it, the doubt would only intensify and paralyze him, and that would lead to no result at all. He steeled himself and continued to speak, in the same, hushed tone.

"He's different from me," he began. "They keep him in the Underground. He's-he's nothing special–by their definition–so they don't have any special procedures for him." He took a deep breath. That was the basic information out of the way, and he hoped he'd managed to give enough to satisfy Alfred. If Alfred requested more, he'd take that as a warning sign. Still, that had been the easy part. He had to elaborate on his request, and it wasn't anything to take lightly. What he wanted to ask for was an undertaking beyond a passive-aggressive jab at the government–it could lead to a direct confrontation if things went wrong. But it was the only way to be safe–truly safe–and he hoped Alfred understood that.

"I want every person in Archadia to believe that he is dead." Those words came out easier than he'd expected them to. Perhaps it was the amount of times he'd fantasized about saying them, about making this request to… to someone. To anyone. Anyone who would help. "They can't have any reason to look for him. They won't if he's dead. Another dead mutant is-it's just business. It happens every day. They won't look for a body if they can't find one–just-just assume that it's a clerical error, that someone threw it in the ovens and forgot to write it down." He looked up at Alfred, his gaze imploring. "He needs to escape. Permanently. Without the threat of getting caught again."

His voice broke, and he fell silent once more. Suddenly, he felt very, very tired. It was as though he'd emptied every thought he'd ever had before the man across from him, and perhaps that was almost true. This was a plan he'd thought carefully about, devised for years in his head when he'd lain awake at night. It was almost perfect–he just lacked the necessary skills to carry it out, but maybe Alfred didn't, or maybe Alfred knew someone who knew someone. It didn't matter who or what, really, as long as they could do it.

Out of words, he waited for Alfred's response. He expected Alfred would need some time to think about it, maybe even more time than allotted for their coffee date, but he could accept that. Anything was better than a direct rejection or a bid for more information, but he would have given everything for Alfred to say yes and follow through. A chance like this didn't come often–might never come again. This was the first time he'd even spoken that request out loud, and this was the closest he'd ever gotten to clearing a path towards freedom.

---

Alfred F. Jones

[Alfred F. Jones]

it's a

revolution

Word count: 1233

Tags: Mihai C. Eliade

Notes: It's been a while sorryyyy.

It took a long time for Mihai to speak, so long that Alfred almost wondered if the man was still alive. Mihai stared at him, somewhat of an unnerving stare, but Alfred simply waited.

This was always the worst part, just waiting for something, anything to happen. Alfred didn't like to wait. Alfred liked immediate gratification. At his best, it meant he acted quickly and efficiently. At his worst, he was impulsive, flighty, and inconsiderate. This Alfred knew of himself. It always took some effort to remain patient, to not ask any questions, to simply allow Mihai to speak.

There was a tension to Mihai's actions. Whatever he wanted to say, whatever he wanted from Alfred (and it was clear he wanted something) was clearly important to him. The man leaned in slightly, eyes tinted with a hint of desperation.

"I want you to make someone disappear."

Alfred blinked. The words echoed in his head, repeating themselves over and over until a blanket of unease settled over Alfred. Disappear? Did that mean...did Mihai want Alfred to kill someone?

That had always been something Alfred had drawn the line at. He wasn't a killer, or at least that was what he wanted to believe. It was a line that you couldn't return from, one that Alfred refused to cross.

Then again...perhaps Alfred had already crossed it, and he simply didn't know. Alfred remembered that one mutant boy, Christopher Dawson. Alfred felt a lump in his throat. He'd been young. Maybe 12, maybe younger. Alfred remembered searching for the boy, and then seeing him bolt out of the shadows, like a deer being hunted. His father and him had given chase, sprinting off after Dawson. He remembered the adrenaline pumping through his veins as they raced through back alleys and streets, until Alfred spotted the boy and broke away from the pack.

He'd taken aim carefully, yet also not carefully enough, driven on more by excitement and the desire to prove himself (to gain revenge) than anything else. There was no hesitation as Alfred's finger pulled the trigger, as the boy fell over with a cry...

There had been no guilt at the time, and that was what scared Alfred the most. He had been calmer than he expected, even with the ringing of the gunshot echoing in his ear. Maybe it was the adrenaline or how quick everything had happened. It would be simple to blame it on that. But it was so easy, too easy. Almost like instinct.

The boy had been bleeding, sobbing on the ground as the medics took him away. His father clapped him on the back. Then they had...

Alfred wasn't sure. The memory ended there, seared into his mind like a brand. It had lingered in his conscience for five years. Sometimes it resurfaced in his nightmares, just watching himself pull the trigger. Sometimes the boy turned around and Alfred could see his eyes. They were green, with flecks of amber. Alfred remembered that much. Sometimes he was replaced by Matthew, by his mother. Sometimes he had no face at all.

Even before Alfred had discovered Matthew's secret, the memory had haunted him. Not in a way that caused remorse at the time, but it was constantly there. An echo in his head, that resurfaced during school or when Alfred was eating. There had been no pride. Just...blank. Completely blank.

It terrified Alfred.

He snapped back to attention as Mihai continued, heart twisting in his throat. He could not kill someone. Not in cold blood. Alfred was not an assassin. He was...Alfred didn't know if he was a murderer. But he could be a killer, for all he knew. And even if he hadn't directly killed Christopher Dawson, he'd helped in making the lives of others hell. That in itself was unforgivable.

"I want every person in Archadia to believe that he is dead."

It took a moment for Alfred to process those words, and as he did, they jumbled together in his mind, causing his eyebrows to furrow in confusion. To simply...believe? That didn't make sense, what exactly...

And then it hit.

Escape.

A staged death.

Mihai had Alfred's attention now. Not that he hadn't before, but Alfred had been caught up in what he had assumed was Mihai's request. Now this piqued Alfred's interest.

Stage a death, plan an escape. Perhaps... Alfred mentally began plotting out a potential plan in his head. It was basically a con, wasn't it? And a con, a con was something Alfred could do...

But more than that. Alfred wasn't asking too much of Mihai, not compared to this at least. This was a completely different ballgame, and significantly riskier than what Alfred was proposing. If this was all Alfred had to think about it would be a terrible deal.

But if Alfred pulled this plan together...Mihai would owe him. Alfred knew it and Mihai knew it. And Alfred wanted—no, needed—someone on the inside. Whoever this mutant was, lover or family or friend, Mihai clearly cared about him. Cared enough to sacrifice everything. This was someone Mihai loved, with every inch of his being.

Alfred knew the feeling.

He leaned back in his chair, just looking at Mihai thoughtfully. It was a big request, and Mihai certainly knew it. Alfred could tell from the near reverence in his voice, the way he was silent now, just waiting for Alfred to respond.

Alfred wanted to say yes. The reckless, adventure-seeking part of him was jumping at the opportunity to put this idea of Mihai's into action. Part of him wanted to know who Mihai cared for so deeply, but the information wasn't volunteered, and grudgingly Alfred thought that it was probably Mihai being cautious. Not a bad thing, and something that would come in handy if Alfred could have Mihai in his debt. But he needed a plan. He needed to know he could deliver. Alfred wasn't exactly an honest man, but he was a man of his word. He wasn't about to promise something that he could not provide.

How would he do it? He might need an extra body. Or perhaps not. Like Mihai said, the Underground probably did not check thoroughly. But he needed them to believe that this mutant was dead, not simply escaped. He did not need an explanation, but he did need an excuse. Alfred could do it through a long term method, if he could speak with the mutant involved. Fake illness. Though...Alfred was reluctant to be in the Underground for much longer than necessary. He had risked enough lately, and this would not help. It would have to be short term, something that could be done swiftly without raising concerns.

Alfred would prefer to do it himself. It was a monumental task, not one that could easily be entrusted to anyone else. But...how far was he meant to go? Alfred assumed that Mihai wanted this mutant far away from Archadia, and Alfred could not afford to leave for long.

Silence had hung between Alfred and Mihai for a while, and Alfred finally spoke, his voice low. "How far do you expect me to carry this out? Out of the city? The country? I cannot guarantee his safety for the rest of his life."

It was not a promise. But it would give Alfred a better idea of exactly what he was getting himself into.

i suppose

by Worldie for Leia