Pre-service: Shatterstar, anti-mutant protesters, and OPEN
Shatterstar, who had spent the previous weeks in a SHIELD facility speaking of his home and his mission and being told of this world in return, had been told of Charles Xavier, leader of a group of mutant warriors, and his death in an attack. It was a shameful way for a leader to die -- not even in battle! -- but his group was holding a public special televised event anyway. He didn't fully understand why, but he had asked to be taken to it along with some of the members of the division.
They had arrived earlier than necessary to see the show, and it all seemed nonsensical to him: the many citizens milling around were unarmed and a liability, and this open area would have been a terrible place to defend in open battle if it came down to it. The agent who had been assigned to guide him, when questioned about the tactical disadvantages of this event, had told him that no battle was expected, which was disappointing. There were police members here, the protectors of the people he had encountered upon first arriving.
He had concealed his swords and promised not to unsheathe them unless attacked, and he was wearing unobtrusive black clothing chosen for him by the agent. But there was no way to conceal the tattoo on his face or the shining white of his left eye, and his height and the way he moved, and he was drawing stares and curious comments ("Are you a new Avenger?" one very small human had asked him, and for a moment they had been mutually baffled by each other) from every side.
At the moment, with his agent hovering behind him, Shatterstar was pacing around the edges of the crowd, watching the people holding signs and chanting. He stopped in front of one woman in particular and pointed to the red sign she held with the white lettering.
"Who is God?" he asked her.
The protester gaped at him, six and a half feet of muscle and long hair and that very conspicuous glowing eye and facial tattoo. "...What?" she asked.
She had obviously not heard, so he repeated louder, still gesturing at her sign: "Who is God, and why does this person hate the mutants?"
His agent tried to draw him away, but Shatterstar brushed her hands off.
The woman drew herself up, but she was not very tall and did not have a warrior's stance, so he did not prepare himself to fight. "God is the creator of all things," she began, her voice more strident than her small frame would suggest, "and He created the mutant abominations as a plague on this wicked land--"
"I understand. He is a gene engineer." Shatterstar nodded, finding this reasonable. "My own creator, Arize, has also created many mutants. He does this because they are more capable than humans and better equipped for battle and other forms of entertainment, but he does not hate us. Why does this God hate his own creations?"
She backed away, holding her sign in front of her as though it was a shield, and the others around her closed into a clump, giving Shatterstar looks of anger and fear. He recognized that by now, though he did not have his swords out and was not making any threats, so it did not seem reasonable for the woman and her companions to fear him; he glanced around for guidance.