POV: Adonai
"Like a waiter in a food fight, I had to keep my balance."
He tried to stand still, but it was obvious from his sluggish movements that balance was becoming more of a suggestion than a state of being. The alcohol from the night before was still working through his system. They had come back at almost five in the morning, and he had passed out the moment he hit the bed.
He glanced at the clock on the wall. Almost eleven.
No wonder, he thought. He had barely slept. He normally didn't get drunk. His tolerance was high enough that he could remain functional even while drinking, but the next day always hit him like a truck. Hangovers were the real enemy. Today was Saturday, so there was no school, but the X-Men probably still trained even on weekends. He pitied them.
He pulled on a pair of baggy gray sweatpants and a simple shirt. His stomach growled, so he headed to the kitchen.
"Well, if it isn't the sleepy prince gracing us with his presence," came Jean Grey's soft voice the moment he stepped inside.
"Good morning to you too," Adonai replied with a faint smile. "What's your secret to looking so radiant so early in the morning?"
"The fact that it is almost midday," she said, a light smile touching her lips.
She moved with practiced ease, preparing tea. Several cups were already set out.
"Tea party?" Adonai asked, opening the fridge and taking out orange juice. He turned on the toaster and placed bread in it, then reached for marmalade.
"Something like that," Jean answered. "Kurt is not feeling well. The others are with him. I thought tea might help, so I prepared some for him and the rest."
"Oh? What happened to him?" he asked, though he already knew.
"I don't know. He was vomiting and in pain all morning. Professor McCoy isn't here today, so we'll wait for him to come back and check Kurt out."
"I see. What about the baldie?"
"Professor," Jean corrected calmly. "He has other meetings to attend to. I just hope Kurt will be okay."
"Don't we all," Adonai said, spreading marmalade over the toast before taking a bite.
"I've never seen him sick," Jean said quietly. "He always seemed too energetic for any sickness to catch him. Just what could have happened for him to be like this?"
Adonai hummed, drinking his orange juice. He knew full well he was the reason Kurt was sick.
"Would you also like some tea, Adonai?" Jean asked as she prepared an additional cup.
"If it isn't too much of a bother."
"Not at all," she replied.
Tea helps with hangovers, he thought.
When the tea finished brewing, she poured it into each cup, lifted them with telekinesis, and began walking toward Kurt's room. Adonai followed her.
They entered Kurt's room. Everyone was already there, watching Kurt with obvious concern.
"I brought tea," Jean said, using her telekinesis to hand a cup to each person, including Adonai. "Kurt, would you like to sit up so you can drink?"
"Thank you, Jean," Kurt said, managing a weak smile as he took the cup.
"No problem," Jean said softly. "How do you feel?"
"I'm fine, really," Kurt said, still smiling. "I'm better now."
It was clear he was not fine. He looked exhausted, his lips dry.
"Your German ancestors must be quite disappointed," Adonai said with a grin.
"Fuck you," Kurt muttered, returning the grin. "How are you still functioning?"
"I am a man of focus, commitment, and sheer fucking will," Adonai said without missing a beat.
"How did we even get here?"
"Seriously?" Adonai raised an eyebrow. "You don't remember anything?"
The others watched them now, interested.
"I don't remember anything after the dance," Kurt admitted. "I just remember waking up in my room with an urge to vomit."
"I had to carry you after the dance," Adonai said. "Which was fucking difficult because you kept teleporting every time I tried to catch you. Luckily, you didn't teleport too far."
The others exchanged confused looks.
"You really don't remember anything?" Adonai said and laughed when Kurt shook his head. "You started singing in German while doing acrobatics. You said a lot of things, but I didn't understand because it was all German. You're teaching me that language one day."
"Sure," Kurt mumbled. "I'm sorry if I caused trouble."
"Nah, it was hilarious," Adonai said with a shrug. "You even started telling me how amazing Minerva was."
"Oh god," Kurt groaned.
"You told me to drive faster too," Adonai added, chuckling. "Honestly, your drunk self is much more entertaining. You even asked if we should compare our—"
He made a gesture that made the meaning obvious.
"Okay, I get it. You're never letting me forget this," Kurt said, embarrassed. Then his expression shifted. "Wait. You drove us?"
"Who else? The professor?" Adonai said as he sat down in a chair.
"How are we still alive?" Kurt muttered.
"I'm an excellent driver," Adonai said, laughing.
"You were driving 180 kilometers per hour in a 100 zone," Kurt said flatly.
"What the fuck is a kilometer, Kurt?" Adonai shot back. "Speak American."
Kurt lifted a middle finger in response.
"Wait, what are you guys talking about?" Kitty asked at last.
"W-well, you see…" Kurt started awkwardly.
"We sneaked out last night," Adonai said casually.
"What?" they all shouted.
"Tone it down," Adonai said, pressing a hand to his temple. "I still have headaches."
Scott's tone was sharp. "What do you mean sneaked out?"
"Do you want me to give you the definition?" Adonai said dryly. "To discreetly leave a premise without attracting attention. I assume you're not unfamiliar with the concept?"
"Spare me your sarcasm," Scott said with a sharp exhale. "Where did you even go?"
"To a club," Adonai answered simply. "It was fun."
"To a club?" Scott repeated.
"Yes, to a club," Adonai replied, starting to wonder if Scott suffered from hearing issues.
Scott's eyes narrowed. "Do you know what you just did?"
"I just told you," Adonai said with a shrug. "We sneaked out. We went to a club. We had fun. I don't know what part is confusing you."
"What I don't understand," Scott said, anger creeping into his voice, "is what possessed you to do something so stupid."
"The intent to have fun," Adonai replied calmly. "The concept might seem foreign to you."
"Do you even understand how dangerous that was?" Scott asked, taking a deep breath to keep his composure.
"No. Why don't you explain it to me, Einstein?" Adonai said, tone flat and unmoved.
"You're eighteen years old, Adonai," Scott said coldly. "I assume you're smart enough to understand the implications."
"Of course," Adonai said pleasantly. "Alcohol's illegal for us. But only if we get caught. Which we didn't, so I fail to see the issue."
"The issue," Scott said, looking up at the ceiling as if for patience, "is that you broke half a dozen laws and could have been killed."
"Stealing a car, drinking, driving drunk, and treating the speed limit as a suggestion," Jean added, rubbing her temple. "You could have been hurt."
"But we weren't," Adonai said evenly.
"Right, that makes everything somehow okay," said Scott sarcastically. "You are so cool."
"Something tells me you are not quite impressed," said Adonai thoughtfully. "Something on your mind, Summers?"
"Oh you know, nothing much," said Scott sarcastically. "Just the fact that you put Kurt's life in danger in pursuit of your hedonistic impulses."
"And how, pray tell, did I do that?" Adonai asked, feigning curiosity.
"How about driving drunk for one?" supplied Angel quietly.
"Well, we are here in one piece," said Adonai as if that concluded the matter.
"That's not the point," said Scott, annoyed. "Do I really have to spell it out to you? We are not angry because you idiotically drove a car while drunk which could have almost killed you and Kurt if you hadn't been lucky."
"Then what are you mad about, Scott?" Adonai asked..
"The fact that you took Kurt to a club full of non-mutants," said Scott. "Do you know what they would do if they saw Kurt? They would decry him as a devil and try to kill him. The world is not ready to accept someone who looks like Kurt. How could you not consider that?"
"look at Kurt," said Adonai, gesturing towards Kurt. "Does he look dead to you?"
"Well, he doesn't look healthy," Bobby muttered, trying to defuse the tension.
"Merely due to a hangover," answered Adonai. "Not a violent mob as you dramatically implied."
"What if it had gone differently, huh?" said Scott. "What if they saw his appearance, Adonai? What if they decided that he is a monster after all?"
"If my aunt had balls she'd be my uncle," Adonai said dryly. "But she doesn't. So she's not. You can't live your life based on if, buts or maybe's. The fact is that Kurt wasn't attacked."
"Oh please," said Scott. "You think one night without violence is proof that humanity is ready to accept us?"
"Scott, I understand you worry," began Adonai. "I really do. Humans fear what's different. They reject what they don't understand. But what exactly do you want to do about it? Just roll and take it or live your life anyways?"
"I would do whatever it takes to keep my friends safe," Scott answered.
"What are you implying?" Adonai said, annoyed. "That I don't care about Kurt's safety? Is that it?"
"Well your actions show otherwise," Scott said quietly.
"Scott, I am trying to understand your point," said Adonai coldly. "I'd appreciate it if you extended me the same courtesy. I wanted to have fun and I invited Kurt if he wanted to join me and he agreed. And that's what we did, have fun. Nobody was hurt or forced to do anything."
"But you don't seem to grasp the fact you exposed a group of people to someone that looks extremely different than they do," Scott said. "You put him in danger just by being there. You don't get to dismiss that because things happened to go right. God knows that things could have ended tragically if they had chosen to react in another way."
"But they didn't," Adonai said with a sigh. "Isn't that the whole point of the x-men? To make humans accept mutants as people and coexist together?"
"Yes, that is the goal," said Jean. "But we are also not naive. We know that it will take a very long time for them to do so. And until then, mutants like Kurt will always be in danger. I wish it were otherwise, but that is the reality."
"And how do you expect to achieve this coexistence of yours?" said Adonai, crossing his arms. "By isolating yourself in this mansion? Away from the very people you want acceptance from."
"Well, what do you suggest?" said Scott. "That we recklessly break the law and act like we are above them? That's exactly what they fear. That mutants think they are superior."
Adonai paused, considering it. Scott is right that his actions were reckless. However in a fair world, the action of one should not be used to judge an entire group of people.
"So you'd rather wrap Kurt in bubble wrap and hope the world magically accepts him someday?" Adonai said, irritation flickering in his voice.
"No," said Jean gently. "But we need to be careful. The world isn't ready."
"The world sees a mutant among humans," said Scott. "How long until it turns ugly? One night of fun could have ended with someone dead. And you think that's acceptable? You don't seem to realize that you put Kurt's life in danger."
"Oh please," Adonai said, standing up. "Kurt is an adult, I didn't force him to come with me. I invited him and he accepted."
"Yes, but the risk wasn't just about Kurt's decision," said Angel. "It was about the consequences others couldn't control. The club didn't know him. You didn't know how they'd react."
"And they didn't react violently," said Adonai, clearly annoyed. "The fact is, we navigated the situation. No harm done. This constant fear, this waiting for the worst possible outcome, what good is it? We can't live in paranoia."
"It's not paranoia," Scott replied with a sigh. "It's responsibility. Every mutant here, every time we interact with humans, we're being tested. One wrong move and it could end in tragedy. What if some fanatic had followed you and found this place, huh? You'd be putting every student here in danger."
Adonai didn't have an answer to that.
"You didn't think about that, did you?" Scott pressed, locking eyes with him. "Of course not. That would actually require you to think things through instead of drifting through life like it's some kind of game."
"And you," Adonai said, his voice suddenly cold, "act like the world must be protected from Kurt forever. You're so obsessed with safety you forget we're supposed to live. You want coexistence, but you hide in this bubble and call it progress. How do you ever change anything that way? By doing nothing? By never showing people what's different?"
"Exposure without caution isn't change," said Jean firmly. "It's recklessness. We have to weigh the potential for harm against the benefits. You didn't."
"I did," Adonai shot back. "The benefit was that he had fun. He's alive, unharmed, and no worse for it. We can't live our lives based on hypothetical horrors."
Of course, Adonai understood their fears. He knew, from all his comic book knowledge, the sheer amount of nonsense mutants endured. How many times had they been massacred simply because people were afraid of them? Still, he didn't believe isolation was the answer. Truthfully, Adonai didn't care about the ideological struggle at all. He only cared when it interfered with his pursuit of pleasure. He didn't even know why he was arguing anymore; they would never see things from his perspective.
"Hypothetical or not," Scott said evenly, "we don't get to gamble with lives. Not yours, not Kurt's. One slip, one accident, one bad judgment, and it's over. That's the reality you're too arrogant to consider. People need time to adjust to the existence of mutants."
"How quick you are to defend the very people who hate you for being born," said Adonai.
"That's not true," said Scott. "But we have to see it from their point of view. Ordinary people have every right to be afraid. It's up to us to show them we're not a threat, and we can't do that by breaking the law whenever it suits us."
"It's beautiful how you parrot the Professor's words," said Adonai. "But it's naive to pretend mutants are the same as humans. The Professor can afford to think that, he's a privileged rich man with a mutation that only benefits him. You think if Rogue or Kurt followed every rule, smiled politely, and stayed out of trouble, the world would just accept them?"
Rogue shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware she'd become part of the discussion.
"Come on, Scott," Adonai continued. "You know better. No matter what they do, people will still stare, still whisper, still call them freaks."
"Yes, it's unfair," Scott admitted, agitation creeping into his voice. "But that doesn't mean we get to be reckless. The world already thinks we're dangerous. You driving drunk with Kurt in the car, or breaking other laws, only proves them right."
"You talk like one night of fun is going to bring the world crashing down."
"It's not about one night," Scott snapped, frustration breaking through. "It's about what it represents. You think you're above it all, don't you? You don't care about the laws, or how people see us, or what could've happened to Kurt. All you care about is whatever makes you feel good."
Adonai tilted his head, pretending to think. "Is that supposed to be an insult?"
"It's not," Scott said quietly. "It's the truth. You talk about freedom, but all I see is selfishness dressed up as philosophy."
"Maybe," Adonai replied, meeting Scott's eyes. "But your 'bigger picture' sounds like a cage to me. You spend your life begging the world to like you. I'd rather just live, even if it means they hate me for it."
"And what happens when that hate gets someone else killed?" Scott asked, rubbing his temple. "When your fun night turns into someone else's funeral? You don't think that far ahead, Adonai. You never do. The only thing you care about is your pleasure or your boredom."
For a moment, the room was silent except for the low hum of the ceiling fan.
Then Adonai exhaled sharply through his nose, looking almost bored. "Or maybe," he said flatly, "I just see the absurdity of persecuting people for being born different."
He met the others' eyes, then turned and walked out before anyone could respond. The door shut behind him with a dull click, leaving the rest in uneasy silence.
—-------------------------------------------------------
Damn, why did I get all worked up for?
Mutants were not yet public knowledge, but he knew that would change. Governments probably already knew, only waiting for the right moment to act. Scott had been mostly right in his arguments, but Scott had no idea what kind of threats would one day rise against mutants. There would be sentinels, massacres, mutant registration acts, entire species on the brink of extinction again and again. Scott did not know any of that. Adonai did.
Maybe it was possible to make people see that mutants were not that different from humans. Maybe they should not be punished for things they could not control. Adonai would have believed that if this had been any other world. If this had been the DC universe, he would not have doubted it. But the Marvel universe had always portrayed humanity through a cynical lens. Crowds did not need reason to hate. They feared what they did not understand, and once fear settled, hatred followed with ease. In Marvel comics, the public often distrusted even those who saved them. The Avengers were celebrated and despised in equal measure. Heroes were put on trial, cursed by the same people they protected.
That was why he believed Scott and the professor were naive. They preached coexistence to a world that would smile at them one moment and build weapons to erase them the next.
But why do I care?
Why would it matter to him if mutants were mistreated or slaughtered? He was not here to play hero or messiah. He was here to live well, to indulge himself, to enjoy every luxury this world could offer.
He lit a cigarette and sat on the rooftop. The school grounds stretched out under him, quiet and still. The sky looked almost peaceful.
"So this is where you have been hiding," a voice said behind him.
He turned. Alison was walking across the ledge, careful with her footing, before sitting beside him. Without asking, she took the cigarette from his hand and breathed in the smoke.
"I did not know you smoked," he said, watching her.
"Well, now you do," she said, exhaling without flinching.
He shrugged.
"They say it makes your voice raspy," she said.
"I guess," Adonai said. "But why would you want a raspy voice? You have a lovely one."
"Because I want to be the greatest musician ever," she said. "Greater than Michael Jackson or Elvis."
"But why the raspy voice? You could do it without it."
"Because I find it hot," she said with a grin. "Don't you find a raspy voice sexy?"
"Of course," he answered. "Though, to be honest, I find all voices sexy, except high-pitched ones."
"Though I find all voices sexy to be honest. Except high pitched ones."
"What do you have against high-pitched voices?" she asked, teasingly. "They are very cute."
"Because of Mickey Mouse," he said. "I used to watch it as a kid, but I don't remember anything except the voice and how much it annoyed me."
She giggled softly. "You said I could do it without a raspy voice," she said.
"Yeah, I did," said Adonai. "I have only heard you sing once, but your voice is mesmerizing."
"Mesmerizing?" she repeated with a little smirk. "Well, aren't you quite the charmer?"
"Merely telling the truth, my dear."
"Do you think I can achieve my dream?" she asked.
"To be the greatest musician?" he repeated. When she nodded, he continued, "I see no reason why not. You're talented, you have a wonderful voice, and the beauty to enchant any crowd."
"That has always been my dream," she said, looking ahead. "As long as I can remember, I've wanted to perform before a huge crowd. To be adored, to be loved, to awe them with my performance, to–"
She paused, searching for the right word.
"To dazzle them?" he offered.
"…Yes," she said, smiling softly. "That's why I chose that as my codename. Dazzler. It fits more for a performer than a superhero, don't you think?"
"Perhaps," he said. "Greatness is terribly overrated, you know. Why aim to be the greatest when you could aim to be unforgettable? The world adores scandal far more than perfection."
"Well, you're not wrong," she said, amused. "But I want to be remembered as a good person too. I want to do good. I want to succeed without betraying my principles or selling my soul."
"Good person?" he repeated. "Then you should seek pleasure, seek whatever it is that makes you happy and indulge in it. When we are happy, we are good."
"What does being good have to do with seeking pleasure?" she asked, genuinely confused. "Isn't that kind of contradictory? Not everything that brings us pleasure is morally good."
"To be good," he said, lighting another cigarette, "is to be in harmony with oneself. Discord is when we're forced to be in harmony with others. The most important thing is one's own life and happiness. Modern morality is just conformity, the acceptance of whatever norms and conventions society decides on. To fit in, to blend, until every trace of individuality is erased in favor of it. There's nothing more disgusting than accepting that definition of morality."
"You really have dangerous ideas," she said, astonished. "But to live only for one's self requires a terrible price to pay."
"Yes, indeed," he said. "Indicudualism is quite expensive. Beautiful things are reserved for the rich. The poor can afford nothing but self denial."
"You are concentrating only on the money aspect," she said. "But that is not what I meant by paying a terrible price."
"What did you mean then?"
"The degradation of the soul," she said. "Remorse, empathy, and moral degeneration. These are the prices one pays when he focuses only on himself to the detriment of others. Is there a more terrible price?"
"Your notions of morality are quite outdated, I'm afraid," he said, his voice melodic. "Moral law is an invention of the weak for the disenfranchisement of the strong. Don't get me wrong, it is entertaining in fiction. The heroic protagonist is my favorite archetype. But you only use things in fiction that have long ceased to be a reality. Believe me when I tell you that no sane man ever regrets pleasure, and no insane man will ever feel it."
She laughed aloud. "Oh, Adonai. You really are a wonder. I can't even begin to criticize your statement because it's just so insane," she said cheerfully.
"I am sorry you see it that way," he said. "i happened to think it normal. Does that make me insane?"
"Oh, definitely," she said, laughing. "You are so alien in your view, it's quite charming actually. So different from all others, though in the most despicable way. A slave to pleasure."
Adonai did not answer for a few moments.
"There are worse things to be a slave to than pleasure," he said at last.
"Naturaly," she said. "But I can't help but think that your brand of hedonism is quite destructive to the soul. Tell me how you became such a person? A broken heart? A childhood trauma?"
"Curious, are we?" he said, amused. "But nothing quite so romantic. I can't take credit for my lifestyle; it comes directly from nature. After all, when we are in pleasure, we are happy, and happiness is good. Thus, you have a perfect moral system given directly by nature. It is only when we abandon pleasure that nature punishes us."
"So simplistic and childish," she said. "How lovely you are, Adonai. Tell me something about your parents."
"You seem to have many questions about me," he said, studying her curiously.
"You've become quite a puzzle for me," she said. "And I love solving puzzles, especially when they're people. It's always possible to understand someone by knowing where they came from."
"Well, my parents were lovely people," he said. "My father was a hardworking, principled man. But he could never have fun. He took everything seriously. My mother was a devout woman of high virtues, but she could never say no to people — her brother, her family, anyone. She cared for everyone even to her own detriment. In the end, she was miserable and sickly. She didn't make those around her miserable, though. She carried it all inside and smiled on the outside. In the end, it destroyed her."
"She died?" she asked softly.
"Yeah," he said. "She got really sick and died when I was fourteen. You wouldn't believe it, but even in her last days, whenever we visited her in the hospital, she always laughed and smiled with us. If you only listened to her voice, you wouldn't think she was sick. She was tragically beautiful."
"I'm sorry to hear that," said Alison, sadness shadowing her expression.
"It happened so long ago. I have gotten over it," he said calmly.
There was silence for a while.
"Why are you here, by the way?" he asked.
"No reason. Just seeking your company," she said. "It hasn't even been two days since you arrived here and have already polarized my friends. You are quite the troublemaker."
"Polarized?" he repeated. "How? I would think you would all take Scott's side. He was very sensible after all."
"We're not a monolith, you know," she said. "We all have different dreams and perspectives. It's only the tragedy of a single gene that has brought us together. I'd say half agree with you and the other half with Scott."
"Tradegy?" he repeated.
"What else would you call it?" she said.
"A gift," he said."If you use yours carefully, your dream of stardom may not just be a dream."
"To use my power for personal gain?" she said. "It just seems so unfair to the others."
He laughed. "Oh, Alison, you amaze me. You consider using what you were born with unfair? Let me give you a piece of advice. When you do something, do it with all your effort. Use everything in your arsenal to achieve it. Only that way will you never regret it."
"I don't know if it is wise to listen to you," she said, giggling. "Your views terrify me."
He did not say anything to that.
"Are you not gonna ask me if i am on your side?" She asked curiously.
"Not really," he said. "Whether you agree with me or with Scott affects little in my evaluation of you. Befriending only those who agree with you or share your views is an absurd way to live. I merely need to find the personality fascinating. Anything else is secondary."
"I think you don't mean anything you say," she said, as if in sudden realization.
"Oh? And why is that?" he asked.
"Because you care," she said. "You care about things even though you pretend you don't. Why did you take Kurt with you?"
"Because he seemed to be the most receptive to any adventures," he answered calmly.
"That is a lie," she said. "You took him with you because he seemed the most lonely, didn't you? He told me about last night, you know. Based on his recounting, you were very attentive to him and made sure he never lacked for company. You need to be quite mindful of others, not self absorbed as you paint yourself to be, to spot things like that and try to help in your own way."
"An interesting theory," said Adonai, amused at being psychoanalyzed.
"Oh, not merely a theory," she said. "Your argument with Scott earlier is further proof that you care. You are much better than you pretend to be."
Adonai laughed. "The reason we like to think well of others is that we are all afraid of ourselves. Optimism is just really fear in disguise. We act generous when we praise people for traits that might help us. We talk up our boss hoping for a promotion, or compliment a cop so we don't get a ticket," he said, smiling.
"Well, pessimism is for people who think they're cool," she retorted, sticking her tongue out. "Is my personality fascinating to you? No, wait, don't answer. You'll have to know me better before you decide. I don't think I could bear it if you found me boring."
"Seeking attention like a true performer," he said.
"Yes, I'm quite the attention whore," she said with a grin. "I want to be loved and adored by people. Do you find that disgusting? You don't approve of it?"
"I don't bother approving or disapproving of anything," he said. "It's a ridiculous way to live. We are not here to shove our morals onto everyone else. If someone's personality fascinates me, then whatever they do automatically feels right to me."
"What a strange person you are," she said. "I feel like you are a devil on my shoulder telling me to embrace my depravity and will not judge me for it. You are quite dangerous."
"I shall certainly encourage you to be happy," he said. "Whatever form it may take."
She laughed, the sound mingling with the wild breeze as the two of them sat beneath the wide, indifferent sky.
AN: Another chapter. This one is almost entirely dialogue with very little inner monologue. I tried to present both sides of the argument fairly, so let me know if it came across the way I intended.