Life's -no- fun without a good scare.

[Manslaughter]

Creak.

He arches a brow and lifts his foot curiously, as though expecting to have stepped on something that would have made a noise. Roger tilts his head to one side, finding nothing peculiar, and creeps along the chipped floor, shifting his weight more evenly so that the wood did not strain underneath his slight form. He can see the coulds of dust rising in the wake of his shoes, and he waves a hand experimentally to clear the almost mist of grime. Blinking slowly as some of the particles catch the light from a sliver of sky through a window, he bats at the cloud again, dispersing it into two halves. A slow smile spreads about his pale visage, and he seems to almost laugh, but merely disappears among the long, stretching shadows instead. "Keeping secret things up here..," the boy muses to himself in a murmur, tracing a finger over the top of a long-forgotten box that has never been opened.

The door has long since been hidden from view, but Roger clearly has no intention of weaving his way back out between the piles and mountains of boxes. It scarcely registers in his mind that he probably shouldn't be up in the attic, but he had been eager to explore the building ever since he had arrived. And since Halloween was just around the corner, it was only fitting that he should creep through a place so mysteriously omnious. It was delightful--the attic. It was dark.. secret.. but eerily quiet.

Crouching behind a particularly large parcel, Roger pushes his hands across the floor, turning his head as another layer of dust rises from the disturbance. He stares almost intently into the crack between the floorboards, listening to the whispers of a conversation occurring below him. He sits in silence, neither moving nor making a sound--just listening. Cocking his head to one side, he seems to lose interest and stands again. Standing on his toes, he pulls back the flap of a box with two fingers. "Wonder what's inside..," Roger whispers, a purr to his tone as though he is imagining himself an adventurer looking for lost treasure.

[Magneto]

"The memories of a sentimental old fool," Magneto said as he stood by a haphazardly stacked pile of boxes and what not. He was of course dressed as usual, sans cape though, but with helmet securely atop his head. Roger's power was very interesting and having seen the boy use it first hand, Magneto wasn't taking any chances if he could help it. Roger was clearly very unstable, but still in some control of himself and Magneto knew that he had to be cautious with this one, unlike another of his proteges. Pyro had been growing more and more distant lately and Magneto was still unsure as to why, but he was beginning to have some guesses.

With a smile, a medium sized metallic box, with no clear sign of lid or drawer, floated up out of the cardboard box and then levitated over to Magneto, setting itself down beside him. "Nothing for you to trouble yourself with Roger," he said with a soft sigh as he looked the boy over. He hated keeping Roger cooped up like this, but it was for the best right now. Roger was the ace up Magneto's sleeve and the old man couldn't risk exposing him before his appointed time, not even to the rest of the Brotherhood. "You'll have your own room in due time....I assure lad, just stick it out a bit longer. Our time draws upon us and then you'll be able to introduce yourself properly," he added with a broader smile now as he rubbed his thumb and index finger against one another.

[Manslaughter]

The memories of a sentimental old fool. Roger seems to only partly hear what Magneto is saying, but tilts his head curiously, his eyes rising up quickly, but clearly not startled by the fact that he is there. The boy hums a little in the back of his throat, but releases the flap of the box carefully, as if he had been just told not to touch it. Nothing for you to trouble yourself with Roger. "Oh..," he says almost sadly, looking at the box with an almost disappointment. Pity. It was a nice box.

You'll have your own room in due time....I assure lad, just stick it out a bit longer. Our time draws upon us and then you'll be able to introduce yourself properly. "I don't mind..," the redhead says softly in reply, withdrawing a pale finger from the folds of his sweatshirt and absent-mindedly drawing a smiley face in the dust. He appears content, but any place was better than the streets or the white building. He preferred the dark, mysterious places to the open white hallways and doors and rooms. His mind reels back some previous years, and for a moment Roger seems to withrdaw far into himself to a place only he knows. The day was cold. But the heater is off. He is wearing his sweatshirt. He is sitting in a chair that was in a circle of chairs. Roger has his chin tucked to his chest. A girl is talking. She has a high, whiny voice.
And then.. you know like.. I just wanted to slap the bitch. 'coz I fucking hate her. And -then- she said,'Emily, god.. what's wrong with you?' Roger stares at her blankly. The girl stares back. -What?-[/u] He stares and blinks again. The counselor next to him is shifting uncomfortably. The whiny girl is new and Roger can tell. He smiles.. slowly.. eerily.. Hi.. I'm Roger.
Shrugging his shoulders a little as the memory sifts back into the recesses of his mind, Roger starts to draw his name in the dust in large, akward letters.

[[Thought you might like to know that's how I refer to his past life in the asylum. If it's too confusing let me know.]]

[Magneto]

Magneto watched Roger as he seemed to draw back into himself and put the outside world on hold. The boy was a strange one...that much was evident, but then again, who here was really 'normal'. Roger however, took the cake when it came to mentally unstable and emotionally unbalanced, hence the way Magneto addressed the boy and with the caution he used. Roger's talent was minor at first glance, but upon further inspection, one would come to appreciate it for the skill it involved and the determination. Inflicting pain took a certain degree of taste and want and a level of commitment not to turn that power away. Mercy was something that could not be shown when you possessed a power such as Roger possessed.

"Roger.....," Magneto said softly and slowly, trying to roust Roger back to this world. He tilted his head downward, staring at the boy, trying to figure out just what was wrong with him. Roger's past was a totally fog bank to the old man and despite all the subtle pushing on Elliot's part, his mind seemed to be too jumbled to make any sense from the things she had gleamed. Of course, Elliot wasn't really a top notch telepath and she still had a long ways to go to tap her full potential, which Magneto surmised was average at best. "Something bothering you lad?," he asked, taking a cautious step toward the boy, his eyes watching the letters Roger wrote in the dust.

[Manslaughter]

Something dark and distant seems to shadow his eyes, and Roger tilts his head down further, the strained light in the room casting jagged shadows across his wan face. His finger is steady, precise, but the letters he produces are just as clumsy as a child's. A line creases his brow as he pauses halfway on the second 'r', as though forgetting how to make the rest of it. Roger..... Yes. That was his name wasn't it? Someone had named him that. Sweeping an arch over from the single line he created, the boy pauses and looks at his name for a few beats of silence. Roger. RogerRogerRoger. It sounded so funny in his mind.. even stranger on his tongue--like it didn't belong.

Something bothering you lad?

He wasn't Roger anymore. It was his name.. but not his person.

Seeming to come to a silent conclusion, the boy bends slightly at the waist, blowing on the dust that finely coated the top of the box with a puff of air, and brushing softly at the remnants of the letters that remained with his fingertips. "No..," Roger says slowly, carefully, then shaking his head,"...nothing at all." The faintest trace of a Cheshire Cat like grin presses an uncomfortable feature into his face, and he stands back to quickly brush his hands together. "Dusty..," the boy merely announces with a nod towards the box.

[Magneto]

Magneto regards Roger for a moment, smiling as he watches the boy go about his movements and actions seemingly without a care in the world. The young man often times shows the mannerisms of a simple child but Magneto knows better than to assume the mental stability is the same. While Roger exhibits simple words and actions for the most part, he always seems to be thinking, to be watching and learning from those around him. Over the past few weeks since his arrival into the Brotherhood, Magneto has watched the boy develop several key attractions to a few members, one being himself. Roger has shown signs of possessiveness and Magneto speculated that the boy was selfish for the most part, but that was still a fact in which the old man had failed to further pursue.....just yet anyway.

"Yes, well...I'm afraid your the only person that's been up here since we all moved in," Magneto said in response to Roger's observation about the current state of the attic. So far, the attic had been nothing more than a forgotten storage area for the less important things that various members of the Brotherhood had brought with them when they joined the cause. Of course, Magneto himself had used this place as a store all for memories he wished to either forget temporarily or for those he just wished to keep from prying eyes.

"I trust you've been able to keep yourself occupied and busy?," he asked his new recruit, taking a chance and stepping closer to Roger, his hands finding their way behind his back and clasping together in typical Magneto fashion, "Maybe testing out that rather remarkable ability of yours on some of the others?," he asked straight out, curious if some of the aches and pains a few of the lesser members had been complaining about where in any way linked to Roger.

[Manslaughter]

Yes, well...I'm afraid your the only person that's been up here since we all moved in. Roger tilts his head down, as though understanding silently. He had noticed the cobwebs and spiders and dust long before, but the air of haunting emptiness was what took silence to notice. I trust you've been able to keep yourself occupied and busy? The boy barely nods, turning on his feet and skimming a hand across the edge of a box, starting to hum softly. Maybe testing out that rather remarkable ability of yours on some of the others? Roger smiles slowly, rolling his shoulders and walking some invisible line across the floor. And then he grins, turning back towards his leader, his body only partially bathed in light--the rest in shadow.

Have mercy.. have... mercy.. The guard is choking, turning white and clutching at his chest as his lungs shudder to expand. Roger just smiles a little.

"...yes..," he says in a tone that almost has a sensuous purr, his expression changing into a dreamy one, as though it was perfectly normal for all people to take pleasure in inflicting pain. They would never be bad to him again.. nevernevernever.

[Magneto]

Magneto really didn't have to ask that question, he just knew who was behind all those aches and pains as of late, but it never hurt to hear it straight from the horses mouth per say. Of course, the way Roger moved and answered those questions Magneto posed to him just made all those answers somewhat.....'creepy'. The boy was far too quiet, not necessarily a bad thing, but when one had the ability to cause so much pain on a level you've never even thought about before, well, it was generally not a good things when they just silently stared at you with some sort of sick smile on their face. Magneto was even more thankful for the helmet he wore for he was sure that just because he was the 'boss' that even he wouldn't be safe from dear Roger if the boy so wished to turn his power onto him.

Magneto nodded his head in a silent response for the moment, not really upset that Roger had been prying on the other less focused members, after all, if they weren't paying attention enough to notice the new member, then they deserved what was coming to them. Magneto had went through great lengths to keep Roger secret so far, but he knew that at least two had seen and interacted with Roger over the past few weeks, Pyro being one of them. Elliot had mentioned the slithering feeling in her mind and knew that someone here was after her, but that was about as much as she had mentioned to Erik.

"I hear you've met our little fire starter.....Pyro," Magneto said as he carefully watched Roger with narrowed eyes, "Tell me lad....what did you think of him?," he asked, curious if young Roger had an opinion or not. Pyro had been at one time, one of Magneto's most trusted and influential followers, but now...well....things were a bit different. Pyro wasn't the same boy he was when Erik took him in and with that said, it was hard to tell where the boy's loyalties lied.

[Manslaughter]

I hear you've met our little fire starter.....Pyro. Pyro. Roger's eyes widen slightly at the name, and his eyebrows rise a little, but he then merely blinks and tilts his head to the side and then back to stare up at the ceiling absent-mindedly. Tell me lad....what did you think of him? For a long time, Roger says nothing, merely watching a wolf spider crawl across a wooden beam above him. It is unlcear whether or not he actually heard Magneto, or has merely drawn into himself to find an answer.

The spider crawling across the beam twitches and seems to spasm, falling from the support and onto the floor. It doesn't move anymore. Roger blinks and lowers his gaze again, rocking on his heels slightly. He stops after a moment and looks down at the floor, nudging at the dead spider with the toe of his shoe. "Uppity," he says with a slight jerk of his head and a sigh, as though he knew what to say all along but wanted to find the right words. Pulling his head back up, he merely blinks again, letting his gaze wander over towards Magneto. "...and askew," the boy finishes.

He shrugs and turns away.

[Magneto]

If Roger was listening or just plain ignoring Magneto, it was hard to tell. Roger had an apparent short attention span, but at the same time, he seemed to catch on far better than most others. Perhaps he just grew bored of the others around him, finding them not worth his attention or time....most genius' had that problem. Magneto didn't dare bother the boy, but instead he gave him a moment....seeing if and how the boy would answer him. The old man looked around and flicked a finger, pulling a small old chair toward him. Erik sat down, dust and all, crossing his legs and tilting his head back, catching sight of the small spider which suddenly fell to Roger's feet. The old man arched an eyebrow and made a slight noise in the back of his throat, clearing it to get the boy's attention.

"Uppity," "...and askew"

Magneto couldn't help but smile and laugh a bit at this answer, not finding a more true and blatant answer to give. "Indeed he is," Erik said still smiling, "a waste of talent.....he started out with so much potential," he added with a more somber face now, as if he regretted something. Magneto had come to see John as more than a suitable protege over the months they spent together, the boy had been his own pet project and now it was falling apart. The old man gave a sigh and looked down at the dusty floor boards of the attic floor, staring at nothing in particular, just letting himself drown in the silence and roaming thoughts.

After a moment or two, he spoke up with upturned eyes toward Roger, "We leave soon....are you ready to make your appearance?," he asked, knowing Roger was probably as ready as he was when he came. Erik was taking a chance in bringing along someone so new, but Roger's power was too useful to leave him just sitting around, besides, he didn't want the boy to think he was useless and unwanted.

[Manslaughter]

Indeed he is.

Roger kicks slightly at the dead spider, watching it tumble off a few feet, but relatively out of his path. A waste of talent.....he started out with so much potential. Putting his hands down into the front pocket of his sweatshirt, Roger says nothing, but nods, as though seeming to agree in some way.. or answering to something else. He stands still, for once appearing calm and collected, and yet small and insignificant. He listens to the heavy silence, and then to a slight gust of wind picking up outside. We leave soon....are you ready to make your appearence?

Tightening his hands and taking them out of the front pocket, Roger blinks in response. He tugs on the drawstrings of his sweatshirt, faintly wondering if he'll need to don something different for the times ahead. "...I'm ready," he says--nodding--but staring ahead as though speaking to himself. There was no path to bring him back around again, and in a distant part of his mind he knew this. For a moment, the child in him covers his ears, humming to drown out everything. Turning his head slightly in the opposite direction, shadows fall across his face and shield the smooth, high forehead, sharpen the lines of his face, and intensify the chill of darkness in his eyes.

And then he asks,"...what is my name?"

Roger doesn't live here anymore.

[Magneto]

The choosing and taking of new names was common with mutants, those such as Mystique referring to their birth names as slave names and opting instead to be known by the names they themselves chose. There weren't hardly any mutants out there who didn't have another name of sorts, so why should Roger be any different? The discussion the boy had with Pyro not too long back no doubt sparked this question and this new found desire.....interesting.

Magneto sighed, pondering this question....giving thought to such a serious matter. Too many feelings rolled back as Erik sat there, thinking about what to call this boy. Too many memories of a life long past, of a time when he and Magda sat in that cabin by the fire, arguing over names for the new born daughter. Roger himself was so child like, it was just like being a parent again...and that was something Magnus was a failure at, being denied that joy far too many times now.

Erik looked down at the dusty attic floor, running over various names and ideas that came to him. Roger did deserve a proper and fitting name, something that was akin to his personality and what he did, as was traditional mutant fashion. Several words came to mind: pain, suffering, death, stillness...but all weren't really good enough to fit the boy. Then with a slight smile and upturned eyes, Magneto nodded his head, "Yes.....I think so," he said, apparently deciding the boy's new name, "What do you think of Manslaughter?," he asked him as he uncrossed his legs and slowly stood, the weariness of his age showing just slightly in his movements, "After all, I've never seen any malice in your actions, so I think it fits you quite well," he added, putting his hands behind his back once again, waiting for Roger's Manslaughter's answer.

[Manslaughter]

Yes.....I think so. Roger does not move a muscle in his body, choosing instead to listen, and arching his eyebrows in anticipation. What do you think of Manslaughter? For a moment, his mind reels. Manslaughter... the crime of killing a human being without malice afterthought, therefore not considered murder. He remembers the word; he saw it in a book once. Roger breathes in a slow breath, letting himself get used to the name, spelling his new name out slowly in his mind, visualizing each letter fully. Manslaughter.

After all, I've never seen any malice in your actions, so I think it fits you quite well. ....Manslaughter... His breath hitches in an almost air of excitement, and he feels his fingers twitch and close together. It was not as brash as the word 'murder'.. and not so dark as the word 'killer'... but it was enough for him.

For a moment his expression relaxes and blanks, and he turns slowly, facing Magneto. Tilting his head back, Roger nods. "....my name..," the boy murmurs so low as to be meant for himself, and then repeats it in a louder murmur,"...my name is Manslaughter." A shiver almost grips his body at the feel of it rolling off his tongue so easily. It is more than evident now.. he likes it. He likes his new name and the feel of power and dominance it starts to give him. Coming to a conclusion in his own thoughts, he nods at last in confirmation. And for a time he is silent again, and his eyes meet Magneto's--the boy's haunting and empty as always--and he says,"I like my name." He pauses again but does not look away. ".......thank-you."

[Bobby Drake]

(( OOC: This thread can probably be archived. ))