Paulo Seganti knocks on the door to the loft above the Popular Outcast nightclub, waiting for his master to bid him to enter. There are several soft moans of pleasure, which signals Paulo to wait before entering. When he hears the sound of a muffled scream, followed by silence, Paulo straightens his suit coat before the door opens almost of its own accord.
Julian Gallio’s eyes glow momentarily as the young woman crumbles to ashes beneath him, littering the floor of the loft. He eyes the mess and sighs in disapproval. Feeding never manages to be clean. Julian dusts off his hands, then moves to the closet to change his slacks and shirt, choosing a light grey suit and dresses as Paulo looks on.
“Mister Howard… ‘Now I Can Has Machinegun’ will take the stage in just a few minutes.” Paulo said. “You said you wanted to be informed when they did.”
“I did, Paulo. Thank you. By the way, did you manage to get the invitations to Mister Summers, Mister Reed and Mister Reynolds?” Julian asked.
“I couldn’t get directly to Mister Summers, sir. The Embassy was a bit crowded and security was tight. I had to settle for handing them off to a secretary who would see that they were delivered. But the others were sent without issue.” Paulo said nervously.
Julian closed his eyes for a moment, thinking. When they opened again, they were clear and brown, no trace of the illumination from his feeding present. He took a deep breath, remembered that Paulo would have done his best to fulfill his duty, and let it out.
“Very well, Paulo. Either Andrew will come to me, or he won’t. I cannot control that outcome. You do good work for me, old friend.” Julian says as he finishes dressing. His grey lies easily over his black shirt and Paulo comes over to straighten it for him before stepping back and nodding approvingly.
“You look good, Mister Howard. Some of the ones you've sought are already here, or in line; we’ve been watching for them. Do you think they will be amenable to your idea?” Paulo asks.
“I do. They want fame, acceptance, money, power, and a place to belong. The world wants mutants it can trust, that it can 'control'. I’m in a position to give everyone what they want, and in the end, I get what I want.” Julian says, moving past Paulo to the door.
“Clean that up, will you? I might be in the mood for a snack when this is all over and I don’t like a messy house.” he finishes as he heads out the door and down the back stairs to the stage.