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In the brief moments that existed before the arrival of the spattering of humans, the brief moments where there was still a possibility the day could have been a quiet, but solemn one, Magneto had asked the question that had niggled at him for the last few interactions he had with Jean Grey.

"Even Charles does not call me Max, not to suggest there are not differences between him and me, and you, but he knows those times of my life better than most." It was an unusual number of words for the usually precise Magento, and he would have to admit to himself that despite his experience of years, there was something about her that made him grasp for words in a way he had not for a long time. Equally, while the implication was otherwise, he avoided 'better than you' when you spoke with telepaths like Xavier and Jean Grey, they could know your own history better than you. "Why the change?" A simple question, for a complicated issue, interrupted by the arrival of the sort of blacked out vehicle which usually meant you were either meeting the Federal Government or the local cartel. In his experience on this continent, the distinction had always eluded him.

If there was another present with similar gifts to the finely, if slightly old fashioned, dressed mutant, the slight hum in the air would no doubt notice the subtle change in the air. All around them small metallic objects buzzed with the slight force of his attention, their focus trained gently to move through the air should he need them. The firearms in the possession of those stepping forth onto the street would be found to be most inoperable should they be drawn, only temporarily, but that's all that mattered.

He clasped the man's hand in greeting and decided roughly in that moment he would likely prove to be one of his preferred representatives of the United States various agencies he had met. This meant little in his evaluation of the man along lines that mattered, he had murdered people he had loved and spared those he hated when the cause was involved, but it would at least make the walk a more pleasant experience.

"Mr Joseph," It was a simple enough greeting, but the nod of polite respect he gave the man did much to suggest he simply wished to not insult his intelligence by feeling the need to give his own introduction. "The Birth of Krakoa is an apt name for it, if future communications to your government should be run through yourself I will be happy to inform our Council, although you may forgive our hesitation with divisions named as yours's is." The 'Mutant Desk' was never normally a pleasant term, not for those it had been created to monitor.

The formal meeting of state representatives, however different in their roles, was put aside for the moment as Magneto turned his attention  to Paul Bailey, offering him another nod and smile of greeting,  that was several degrees less political and several degrees more conversational, even as he walked ahead with Jean "Mr Bailey, pleased to meet you." In other circumstances he would likely allude to some support should he need against the government that had propelled him here, but that seemed a little unnecessary given the situation.

"Do forgive me if I am straight to business, but I had hoped to pay respects to a departed family friend on this day, what matter brings federal agents to attend us? I do so hope it is something a little more interesting than fear of our presence."