"Faith is meant to be a torch in the dark,
it may not illuminate the world
but it can help you stay on your path."
--Amira Khalil
Then,
Jumpstart Diner,
Brooklyn, New York,
The United States of America
Amira took a slow breath as she pushed open the door to the diner, only to cough as the smell of grease assaulted her nose. Just another sign she shouldn't be there. She didn't exactly needs any signs to tell her, she was smart enough to know it all on her own yet apparently dumb enough to ignore all of it.
Her eyes scanned the diner and quickly found him, it was hard to miss him, in a booth at the far end. He waved enthusiastically at her, so much so that his brown cowboy hat fell from his head.
"I didn't think you'd come!" Darktruth said and rose from his seat as she arrived, his trenchcoat billowing out and knocking over his drink of cola as he did. "Shit!"
"Not sure I should have," she replied as she saw him grab a bunch of paper towels and try desperately to clean it up.
He pointed at her with one hand while the other continued to clean. "This is why I invited you here, great instincts." He piled the wet, sloppy paper towels he'd used on the far end of the table and moved to grab more from a nearby table. "Sit down! I don't think I spilt anything on the other side."
She cautiously eyes the seat opposite his before she sat down. "And what do you want my 'great instincts' for?"
"We're going to kill Krakoa!" he smiled at her, then noticed the look on her face and waved his arms about frantically. "Well, no. Not quite. But kinda. We're gonna plan how to kill Krakoa. If Krakoa needs killing. If not then... I guess we just have a bunch of useless plans."
"Why?"
He bit his lip then went back to cleaning up. "Well... I don't trust it. I know that's a stupid reason to plan an assassination of an island but... Something just feels off about the place. I know all the propaganda says it's 'a safe haven for mutants', but I'm not sold. Is it really so great to have them all on an island infamous for eating them? To have it ruled by a Council who chose itself? To have it guided by such loose laws that they can be defined however those in power want whenever they want? Maybe. I dunno. I just wanna make sure it actually is safe for her-" He froze for a split-second. "For mutants. If not, then it has to go. Even if they all hate me for it."
Amira's eyes glanced over his face. "Who's 'her'?"
"Pixie," came a voice and they both glanced at the young man that approached them. "Isn't it? It's all about her."
"Gerbil!" Darktruth exclaimed and moved to hug him but found himself caught in the booth. "Glad you could make it! And also, no. Well yes. But also no. Mostly yes."
"It's Cody, not 'Gerbil'," the young man replied and glanced at Amira. "And I thought you were all in your 'I hate Pixie for choosing paradise over my depressing arse' phase of bullshit."
"I never hated her."
"I know, that's why I called it bullshit. You hated yourself and claimed you hated her because you are terrible and dealing with your own problems."
Darktruth pointed at him. "I am, but none of that is what this is about. Sure, I mostly couldn't live with myself if something bad happened to Pixie because I was too stubborn to let myself enjoy a potential paradise. Absolutely. But I also couldn't live with myself if something bad happened to Pixie because I ignored my natural paranoia about a potential paradise. Or the rest of mutants, I guess. Some mutants, yeah those arseholes can get eaten by an island. But the rest don't deserve that shit. Probably. Everyone should get the chance to prove themselves an irredeemable monster, that's what I always say."
Cody sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Uh-huh."
Amira raised her hand. "Um, okay. So who is Pixie? And who is this?"
"Pixie is the most perfect being in creation that I am not worthy to even look at," Darktruth replied quickly. "And this is Cody Olsen, a guy I kidnapped when he was a teenager to make him my sidekick and has now evidently promoted himself to calling out my shit."
"You did kidnap me, I think I earnt it," Cody replied with a casual shrug. He turned to Amira and offered a hand. "And who are you, that he's roping into his madness?"
"Amira Khalil," she replied as she shook his hand. "I, um, really don't know why I'm here. Allison always warned me to stay away from him."
"Allison sounds smart."
"She once beat me to a pulp because I wouldn't make out with her," Darktruth smiled. "I wanted to, but didn't. Because she was going through some shit and I will, at the very least, crawl my way over the lowest bar possible to qualify as 'decent'."
Amira took a slow breath and then looked Cody in the eyes. "Okay, I'm going to trust you. Should I trust him? Does he actually want to help people?"
Cody looked at Darktruth, who gave him a wide grin and a thumbs up, then exhaled and looked back at her. "He's insane. I don't think even he knows what he's doing half the time, or maybe it's scarier to imagine that he does. But... as much as it may not always seem like it, he cares. Maybe that's why he acts insane, I dunno. But he genuinely cares. I've seen him risk everything to save a young girl from a life of slavery. Lots of people would say they'd do the same, not so sure they would when they see what it means for them. Can you trust him? I can only tell you that I do. At least with this kinda stuff. I'd never ask him to order me dinner though."
"Aww!" Darktruth finally freed himself and took Cody into a tight hug. "I knew ya loved me!"
"I wouldn't go that far," Cody grumbled as he tried to squirm free.
Amira chuckled. "Okay, I probably am insane but... I'm in. If you promise we'll help people, then I'm in."
"Yes!" Darktruth exclaimed as he threw his arms into the air. "Excellent! Okay, you two should probably eat because in about an hour we're gonna be maybe declaring war on a nation of white supremacists."
Amira and Cody looked at each other and then at him as they spoke as one. "What?!"
—---------------------------------------------------------------------
Copy of Amira Khalil's Letter of Notice to Maven Pharmaceuticals
To Mr Coral,
I don't know how these things are supposed to go. Haven't had a lot of jobs and this was the first I even had the chance to quit. I guess they're supposed to be real to the point, 'this is my notice of intention to leave' kind of thing. I could just do that but I feel I owe an explanation, more to myself than to you.
