Perhaps there was something in the steadiness of his gaze as he watched her, or in the easy slackness of his broad shoulders as he sat across from her, Mystique believed him. At least as far as anyone could believe a professional liar. Where a decade had hardened her, it had as well taken the sheen off her desperation for the acceptance that lay forever out of reach. It was no longer absolution, but valued still for the rare nature of the thing.

As it was, she did her best not to read too much into what amounted still to a stranger's opinion. Not without valuing it, of course, but in understanding that he could not be aware of the implications even so casual a statement would mean in her world.

"A blue woman," she said with a broad smile, tipping her head back with the action. "Wouldn't be out of place?"