the cruellest month 24

Warp Savant is an entitled character. A young white man who uses words like “skanks” without much compunction as they seemingly hang off his every word, his entire attack on Cape Citadel is a temper tantrum disguised as rebellion. It’s an element that Grant Morrison hits harder in “Riot at Xavier’s” with Quentin Quire. What does Warp Savant seem to have to complain about? From what we see, he does what he wants, he has no problem attracting women, his mutant nature hasn’t made him a target... The brief glimpse into his life is one of privilege and comfort.

What do you do with your privilege? could be a theme of Joe Casey’s Uncanny X-Men run if you squint. It’s the progression of the run, I’d argue, and it does begin with Warp Savant and the X-Men in Uncanny X-Men #394.

Warp Savant uses his privilege to do whatever he wants for his own selfish reasons. It’s all id and whims and thoughtlessness. He evokes childishness with the mimicry of Bugs Bunny and the way he misquotes song lyrics. Even his introduction: alone, in a room with a computer. When he’s in the club with three women, he sits apart, barely wants to engage with them. He doesn’t even drink alcohol that we see, he just absorbs it with his powers. He’s playing at a certain image – he copies Magneto because he can’t actually think of anything his own. All he does is take, take, take, and cares little for anyone else.

Warren Worthington III expressing some sign of recognition in Warp Savant at the end of the issue is the smallest glimpse into what the run would eventually become. Worthington, despite his history with his wings, Apocalypse, and becoming Archangel, is also a man of privilege. We normally view him exclusively through the lens of his wings and blue skin despite his mutant abilities actually taking a back seat to his true source of power. Aside from the odd reference or brief glimpse, his immense wealth is rarely harnessed for any greater good or something beyond himself. What does Warp Savant live for? What does Warren?

You can extend this into the ‘interpersonal soap opera’ element of issue 394. Scott and Logan have their privileged positions. Scott, in the aftermath, of his possession at the hands of Apocalypse is taking his entire life for granted, to an extent, particularly his relationship with his wife. His coldness is partly an expression of who he is and what he’s feeling, but it’s also predicated on the knowledge that he can. He can be a distant, cold husband, and he’s relying on Jean to deal with it. The way that he emphasises the word ‘wife’ indicates how much he’s relying on the formalisation of their roles in their relationship to maintain the status quo that he’s also pushing against as he sees fit.

Logan, seeing this distance, tries to take advantage, taking for granted the idea that, if it weren’t for Scott, Jean would be with him. He has no problem, when the situation suits him, to acting as if her attraction to him is automatic and only limited by her wedding vows, like some technicality that she wishes weren’t there. When he kisses her and they seemingly face death, it’s his acting on this sense of entitlement, as if he’s owed that if he’s going to cease to exist. It wouldn’t be right for him to no longer be and not have Jean, an attitude that doesn’t end when they don’t die. There’s always a presumption, similar to Scott’s, that Jean is his on some level.

Warp Savant’s ‘death’ at the end is another act of privilege. Faced with the consequences of his actions, he chooses to avoid them – or control them, at minimum. We don’t know if he dies or what actually becomes of him. If he doesn’t die and, instead, lives in his own bubble world, then he basically opts out of consequences for a reality where he’s his own god. After all, his powers are based on the idea of control and overwhelming power over anything he chooses. It’s a lesson that, however subtle and seemingly unrelated, Warren learns from...