4th Form

[only_skin_deep]

Who: Mystique and open.
Broadcast: Yes.
Action: SS Golden.
When: Now.

[During one of her brief stop offs between planets, Mystique has come across a package left for her in the Golden’s cargo bay. Opening up the box, she scowls at the contents. It’s an hour or so later that a broadcast goes up to the Fleet.] Does anyone want clothing?

[Panning the camera around her feed shows a selection of clothing laid out on the floor of the cargo bay, ranging over several centuries and decades of style, from similar to those they found on the previous Green planet, to more ‘futuristic’ styles as predicted by earlier eras.] I don’t need them. Don’t send them to me again.

Comments

[only_skin_deep]

Mystique. [As far as she was concerned that was her 'real name', bar maybe an exception for one or two people. Let Raven have their other name, she seemed to be putting it to better use more than Mystique ever had.]

[noprophecies]

Well met, Mystique. [and just like that, she accepts it and moves on, her curiosity satisfied]

[only_skin_deep]

As is you. [Well... not really, but she was a ship mate and Mystique had to play nice to keep the peace. She really didn't care, it was just a person sharing the same space as her and provided Tempest didn't go out of her way to start anything with Mystique, then she was content with just letting things be.

Unless she needed the woman for something, then Mystique would reconsider the way she acted. She may be far from home and her quests to secure the future for mutantkind, but Mystique had not lost her ability and concept of manipulating others to gain some sort of an advantage.]