eVolution: Megan and Warren Meet

[x-welshpixie.livejournal.com]

Warren visits one of his properties and meets Megan Gwynn working there.



Pixie glanced up at the security monitor, her tiny window to the street out front of eVolution. The underground fashion boutique had no signs, no window displays, nothing that advertised its location. The entrance was in the alley. That, too, was covered by a security camera, but it also had a window. Not that there was much outside to distract her at the moment. She glanced back down at her phone.

This couldn't be the right place. Even after the strange conversation witb Adrienne, he still couldn't guarantee this was eVolution.

And what an odd name for a store. If it hadn't been for fiscal year, and the fact that it was his turn to be audited, Warren wouldn't have even known he had a clothing store. With Adrienne Frost, no less. He vaguely remembered providing capital.for a few ventures but it was hard to remember them all.

Twisting his lips,he started down the alley. Reaching for the door, he noted it was locked but a doorbell was there. Pushing the button, he waited.

Bells chimed. Pixie looked up again and the monitor seemed brighter for a second. There was a familiar-looking man in very nice fitting clothes outside the shop. She pressed a button behind the counter and the door unlocked remotely.

"Hello, mister..." It took her a moment to put his face with his icon on the mansion's message system. ..."Worthington?"

An intercom system. How quaint. "Pixie, I presume," he answered, as he walked in the room.

A safe assumption, seeing as she looked like a pixie. Black eyes, wings... she just needed to sparkle more and the image would be complete.

Taking off his sunglasses, he smiled approvingly. It was very reminiscent of some underground shops he'd seen in Europe. A venture like this required independent backing or a generous benefactor. "I hope Ms. Frost gave you a head's up. I'd hate for this to be unannounced."

"Oh, no. I mean, no it wasn't unannounced?" Pixie's saccharine voice went impossibly higher for a syllable or two. "The boss lady said another of the owners would be stopping by. Nice to meet you in person! Ah, you remembered me." She did remember Adri saying something about this, but it had totally slipped Pixie's mind. Thanks to a slow afternoon, everything was still meticulously tidy. She stepped out from behind the counter. Around her, the ready-to-wear clothing hung on steel pipes, while mannequins sporting a variety of physical mutations wore samples that were tailored to order.

Warren simply nodded in responde, taking his time to look over the boutique. He'd looked into it, of course, and had been pleasantly surprised by what he'd seen. That being said, knowing a place was pro-mutant was different than going there and actually seeing the mutant friendly clothing.

Ever since his conversation with Artie, he'd wondered about what the other man had pointed out. He was still dressed like himself, which he was happy for, but he didn't embrace his mutation at all. Unless it was to impress a woman with his stellar abs and his soft wings. He'd never really thought of it being a lady-magnet before.

"Did you do these?", he asked, motioning to the clothes. "Or is there a supplier?"

"Adri does the buying, and there's various people that she contracts work out to. She does let me have this rack, though," she answered proudly, floating over to one wall. What looked like wall art turned out to actually be a few pairs of hand-painted shoes, arranged artfully on the wall. "They're my only pieces that are good enough to sell. Maybe after I'm further in my fashion design program, though..."

Warren looked the shoes, intrigued. He loved niche fashion and the idea of hand painted shoes was definitely something that caught his eye. "You're in school then?," he asked, picking up a pair of shoes. These ones were colourful and yet subtle at the same time. It was obvious that care had gone into them. How fortunate for Pixie that Adrienne let her show off her designs. "What are your goals? To get on the catwalk?"

"To be honest, I don't really know," Megan said, turning a little pink with embarrassment. She both felt filled with pride and cringed with horror whenever anyone inspected her art. But that was just it, wasn't it? "It's just art to me. I could be my own muse and live, I could, makin' art," she realized just now in words. "And help the X-men fight the baddies who stand in our way of course."

"You should design their uniforms," Warren said, turning towards her with a wry grin. "Leather is so outdated and has no personality. Plus, the amount of baby powder they must go through...‎".

‎"I like your stuff. It has an edge but it's whimisical. Like yourself. And now, because I'm curious, what are your special talents?"​

"Do you think so? That would be amazing," she gushed. This was a dream, right?

"I fly, but you knew that." Her iridescent wings unfolded and unflattened from her back. "Even though it's not a completely unique talent, I would say that every flyer has their own special way of flying." She was dying to see what Warren's wings were like. "But yeah, my dust and my flying."

Warren was surprised at what his off-hand comment had elicited. It wasn't like he had any pull with any teams....

"I'm no X-Man," he said, "I work for XFI, but I am always ‎interested in fashion. Make me something. You're a flier. I have wings. I'll pay good money for something functional and stylish that I can wear around the mansion."

Megan hadn't been sure what influence Warren had on the teams - but the fact that he'd suggested that she was capable of that kind of design project was a huge compliment to her. Like many artists, her feelings about her abilities wildly swung between absolute narcissism and crippling self-doubt. And something personal, that he might want to wear? Her wings buzzed happily, stirring a slight breeze. "A main garment, or like an accessory? Oh this will be fun! I just need your measurements, I do - especially for your wings."

Warren gave her a grin. "Well," he said, "an excuse to take my shirt off. If you'd be so kind as to lock the door?"

Deftly unbuttoning his suit jacket, he shrugged it off. "Unless now's not a good time?"

"Of course." Pixie's face turned a shade to match her roots, but she turned away quickly under the guise of going to check the lock.

"We're good," she said, glancing at the controls behind the counter. She also grabbed a cloth tape measure and a slip of paper. The form had boxes for entering in different measurements, including arm length, chest measurement, and tail length. She realized that she'd doodled on this particular one and added a tail, horns, dragon wings and slitted goat eyes to the blank outline of a person next to the boxes. Crumpling the slip of paper with the demon on it, she grabbed a fresh one and turned back to...

Pixie's face lit up with an expression that said "OMG". Warren had shrugged off his dress shirt and there were feathers for days, flowing down to his mid-back, shiny and soft-looking.

"How?" She glanced down at the discarded halter. Ah. "How can you cover them up?" OK, stupid question - they all had to, she as well. "They're beautiful! Yes, I've got to make something that functions with your wings," Megan decided, unrolling the cloth measuring tape, her eyes probably about as big as saucers.

Warren was used to being measured, but this was a new experience, what with his wings being taken into consideration.

As Pixie's hands flitted here and there, he idly wondered if this was how things should be: no fear, just perfectly tailored clothing.

"Tell me what you're thinking. If I like it, I assure you, no expenses will be spared, and you'll be compensated appropriately."

The feathers were as soft as they looked. Luckily, Megan's creative energy was flowing through her like a storm, keeping distracting currents of thought at a minimum. But gods, the wings really fit his frame, too, a natural extension from his shoulder blades. "I'm thinking that... there's nothing quite so powerful as looking totally at ease, but ready for fight or flight at any moment." She tended to wear backless tops when just hanging around the mansion, but she didn't think that would be appropriate for a man 10 years (or so - it was hard to tell by his looks) her senior.

"Something loose, but flattering," she continued, lightly touching his upper back. Yes. In a fabric that would softly hint at these powerful back and shoulder muscles. She moved the measuring tape around to the front, going with it, then stepped back. She made some notes and sketches, briefly hiding her face behind her paper.

"What about a shirt that wraps around, in the softest fabric, but is kind of the opposite of most in that it is fitted in front and wraps in the back, leaving your wings free?"

Warren raised his hands‎ in a 'whatever' gesture. "I leave myself in your very capable hands."

"Ooh, and going with the wrap theme, I could do an octopus design wrapping around - well, I can sketch some designs you can decide later. We can get almost anything screen-printed on the most wonderful fabrics." Megan's wings were moving in a bright rainbow blur. The pixie girl continued in her quirky, energetic vibe, planning her masterpiece with Warren in the eye of the creative storm.