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| Return of the King; HFCers who wish to be there | |
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| Topic Started: Jun 2 2012, 06:34 PM (1,601 Views) | |
| Mastermind | Jun 10 2012, 04:49 PM Post #16 |
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Unregistered
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Since discovering her new Queen's duplicity, Regan had made a point of avoiding the woman's presence, which generally involved avoiding the Pleasure Palace altogether. Not that that changed very much, admittedly; as things were, she'd generally interacted with Sage as little as she could manage, and she and Jason has a long-standing policy of maintaining one another's visible presence in one another's absence. The Black King's return from custody was definitely justification for her actual presence, given their interactions since his departure, but she'd decided discretion was the better part of valor and remained cloaked until she saw how he was playing his reunion with his supposed Queen. When Longshot attacked his King, Regan's first assumption was that the Black Court's Knight had been taken along with its Queen. It made sense, after all; the two of them had seemed close ever since the incident with Selene, and Longshot's powers made him an obvious first target to neutralize during a infiltration of Hellfire. But subsequent events forced her to rethink that assumption, especially once the faux Queen revealed herself. And when Betsy asked about her, that seemed as good a time as any to change her tactics accordingly. "Yes, I'm here," she replied cooly as she stepped into the room. "As far as Sanctuary goes, after the way the Black King extracted me it's best if you talk to Magneto and the Acolytes yourself. In the meantime I will take a closer look at SHIELD; surely it's no coincidence that our King was replaced while in their custody." The additional information she'd obtained from Max's journal and his computerized nerve center, she chose not to reveal... certainly not in such a public setting. Instead she turned to Jay and added "When your errand for the White Queen is completed, find me; I will have work for you. There are matters the Black Court must attend to urgently if it is to remain in suitable condition to return to its King." She had already set certain wheels in motion, though she'd been hobbled by the need to keep her activities secret from the false Black Queen. Now, with that limit lifted, she could be far more effective. She walked up the flight of stairs purposefully as she continued speaking. "But there is a higher priority than that, higher even than retrieving the King from his captivity, and that is ensuring the integrity of the Inner Circle. The White Queen's promise to deal the same fate to other such creatures applies to everyone here... including me, including even the White Queen herself, should any of us prove to be among them. We have flushed four infiltrators, there may be others. None of us can be trusted at this moment." She stood next to Betsy now and visibly placed the Black King's ring onto her finger -- the ring he had entrusted her with before being taken by SHIELD -- before turning to face Longshot. "None save one, that is," she added pointedly. "Knight, you have done a great service today. I have no doubt it was your luck that flushed those infiltrators from hiding, guided by the purity of your love for your King. You alone have earned all of our trust. Let that love be your guide for one more service: let your blades strike down any in this room who mean ill to the Black King!" Privately, Regan wasn't really sure whether Longshot's power could be made to work that way, though she'd learned over her years in Hellfire not to underestimate the little clone's luck, especially when his motives were pure. And there was little she knew of that inspired purer motives in him than his loyalty to the Black King. So she had hopes that this would work... and little as she liked the thought of blades flying at her throat, it was far preferable to the White Queen using this opportunity to establish a telepathic Inquisition, which Regan suspected would be the alternative. Selene's infiltration of the Black Court had weakened it, certainly, but if Regan didn't step in now this fiasco would deal it damage from which it might never recover. |
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| Icarus | Jun 11 2012, 03:38 AM Post #17 |
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Darkforce Wings, Vocal Manipulation
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Max's comment left him...more than perturbed, between the context of the words and the tone of voice. The Pawn began to wonder if the King was merely jesting or something horrible happened to him within the confines of SHIELD. The thoughts quickly left however as the Black Knight made his appearance with great fluster claiming he had failed and sought to correct the mistake. Which was when knives flew through the air. The Pawn would have moved to protect the King and Queen from the assault but things were over before he took a second step with his shadowy wings formed only partially. Icarus watched as his King perished, and turned green. "Ah'll be damned." He muttered not disguising his Southern drawl in the slightest. Longshot quickly turned the entire club's attention to Sage, or so it seemed. However Jay's eyes lingered on the scale covered emerald impostor of his King. Finally looking to the false Sage who seemed to be quickly joined by another Black Pawn that was often with her and the White Knight as well. He attempted to listen to the strange alien language before switching back to English to make threats at the Club. Not only The Black King and Queen were duped, but the White King was also affected by these beast's machinations. As they moved to the ledge of the terrace, the pawn began to follow as his wings spread in hopes to catch them stopping at the edge to see them fully vanish. "Damn." He cursed himself being unable to catch any of the three before turning to the White Queen who began giving orders as the only acting monarch of the Club. Even Jay was no exception to being personally addressed by the Queen. "Yes White Queen, I actually visited the Worthington Complex a few days ago." He responded without any holding back, attempting to keep his eyes off of the dead alien impostor of the Black King. "I spoke with Wolverine directly and have learned that the X-Men forces are divided permanently for the near future, there was an explosion of their transport they use to move back and forth between their new hidden base in what is called the Savage Lands. There has been no way in or out of there and no forms of communication either for those at Worthington to contact the rest." Jay explained. "Also what I found of note is that Warren Worthington himself has been missing, and likely the rest of the Defenders that Director Hill chose to make public, apparently they were sent on a mission and there has been no communication since." He added as well. "While none of that seems to be directly related to this apparent invasion... there is a common factor that has been involved with all three." The Pawn walked closer to the Queen and Black Rook who for the moment sought to take the reigns. "SHIELD." He added finally. "SHIELD took my King, Hill likely personally sent the Archangel and Defenders away, and they were also the first responders to the explosion of the Blackbird. Now they release an impostor to us? I believe SHIELD is compromised, I've lacked a motive to support my theory until now..." Jay once again looked at the dead body. "They want to remove or replace the major heads of powerful groups, whatever these things are that is." The pawn looked between the Queen and Rook, then the remaining members on the terrace to gauge reactions. "That is all I know that could possibly be related to any of this, White Queen, Black Rook. "For all I know the X-men that have remained in New York may not yet know or have already been entirely replaced." He looked to the Black Rook, whispering. "Unless there are more questions or duties I need to preform I can join you elsewhere immediately, just say the word." |
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| Longshot | Jun 11 2012, 06:33 AM Post #18 |
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Probability, Psychometry, Cloned Origin, Empathic Charisma
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Instantly, all hell broke loose and three more of the others including his Queen revealed themselves to be those hideous things. Longshot did not know if they were strangely twisted mutants, aliens, some creation of a mad scientist or just plain monsters, but he knew that whatever they were, they needed to die. He spun and unleashed his weapons, but there was a limit to even his great luck, and the creatures faded away like smoke. One perhaps was slower then the other, and perhaps there was a cry as his blade took a bite of scaled and mottled green, but there was no time to wonder, because everyone was in movement, and every thing was chaos. In the midst of it all, it was the White Queen and the Black Rook who gave him orders and they were orders that he was able to obey. Then, before anything could be done, as he pulled his blades from the bandoleer he wore, that fool Black Pawn burst into a vomit of information. There were choice bits in there, yes. The location and vulnerability of the X-Men, something that the grand red eyed guardian of the gate would probably not have been so pleased that the dastards of the club knew. The fact that the Pawn was still apparently in the good graces of his former team enough so that they would divulge intensely damaging information to him. The fact that the Pawn knew things were going on before the Club he was sworn to protect did, and yet he chose not to tell anyone. There were many things that he said, and most of them would have done much better if they were said either earlier, or much later when Longshot was ascertained that it was safe to say such things. "PAWN!" he snapped, "Be quiet, you idiot! You don't know if everyone here stands true or not!" Then, he launched his blades, moving faster that anyone had any idea that one without enhanced speed could. He spun, and threw, spun and threw, spun and threw, never seeming to aim, never seeming to pause. For a long set of seconds, there was no sound but the whistling of blades. Then he was perfectly still. Though blades had streaked so close in and around the tightly arranged group, no one who was who they said they were would be so much as grazed. But as four of the gathered pawns sank to their knees, or collapsed backwards in pools of their own blood, it was clear that his caution had not been unnecessary. Ignoring those who were reverting to green scales, Longshot kept his eyes trained on Icarus's. "There were still spies amongst us. Quit attempting to impress and instead think before you act. If you know anything at all about me, you will know how meaningful that it is I who suggests that." Straightening up, the little clone looked over at the Rook and said, "We will be discussing who is going to retain possession of my King's ring until we broker his return. Don't think that we won't." He turned then, to the bodies sprawled on the ground, "Now, what is it that my hooks have landed?" |
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| Mastermind | Jun 12 2012, 03:58 AM Post #19 |
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Unregistered
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[ooc: posting out-of-order by request] "Excellent work, Knight of the Black Court," Regan replied formally after Longshot's blades struck true and the surge of terror subsided. Ever since she'd first become part of New England's Hellfire Club, Longshot had been the Inner Circle's wildcard, the one among them most difficult for any threat or any strategem to negate. It had been a private joke of hers for most of that time that her extremely clever ploy for neutralizing the Black Knight was to ensure her interests always aligned with his; fortunately, the little clone's interests were rarely especially complicated, and in this case they'd served to purge Hellfire, at least for the moment. "Hear me," she continued, her voice never raised but still perfectly audible to every ear in the room. "We have a brief window free of enemy infiltration, we must take advantage of it. Now that the spies have been cleared from our midst, our first priority is to discover the fate of those they replaced: Sage, those Pawns, and the Black King." The Inner Circle could not afford a power-struggle right now, so she refrained from being more explicit about Tessa's status, but there was no way for anyone paying attention to miss the implications of not using her title. But the fact was, they had no way of knowing when Tessa had been taken; whether the White Pawn who defeated the impostor Selene and ascended to the Black Queen's throne had been the genuine article, or an impostor herself. And without knowing that, they could not know whether the piece the enemy had removed from the board was Queen or Pawn. "To that end, there are things we must discuss that are only for the Inner Circle's ears. Jay, attend us; your connection to the X-Men may prove indispensible in this crisis, especially if Warren Worthington has gone missing." She glanced once at Betsy as she mentioned the metal-winged mutant who had been so often seen in her company, before continuing. "Hellfire is not the only target of these creatures, and the false Black Queen made no secret of her desire to break Hellfire's connections to the X-Men and the Brotherhood; whatever her purpose was in so doing, we best confound that purpose by strengthening those connections." She would not reveal in this place what she had learned from the Black King's computer avatar, but there were steps that had to be taken in which that information might prove crucial. "As for the rest of you: as the White Queen said, nobody leaves or enters this building. Further, nobody travels alone; we cannot afford another substitution. You, and you," she said briskly, her image appearing beside two Pawns whose computer skills she knew to be superior and placing a hand on each of their shoulders, "Tessa was responsible for our computer systems; we must assume they have been compromised. Shut them down and don't bring them back up until you are certain they are immaculate." Still more copies of her image appeared next to three more staff members whose backgrounds included some security training, "You three secure our physical perimeter; our enemy no doubt knows by now they have been discovered, and may follow up with a physical attack while they think us disorganized. And you, gather up all available data about SHIELD's current activity, especially surrounding the facility where they were holding the Black King. Do not wait for the computer systems to come back on-line. Bring that data to the War Room immediately." Some of the tasks she had assigned were impossible, and she knew it; she also expected them to be executed. Managing the Pawns had been her responsibility prior to her assignment to Sanctuary, and had become so again since her return; she was well aquainted with their capabilities, and they knew in their bones how she rewarded success and punished failure. Their full effort would be bent on their assignments. "All of you, recruit whatever assistance you require, from either Court; you have the Inner Circle's authority. Miss Colbert, your precognitive talents may be of use to us; if you detect anything of value in them, inform me and the White Queen right away. Go, now." Her manifold reflections disappeared, leaving only one form standing next to Betsy as it had been all along, and another facing Longshot. "Knight, have you learned anything from their bodies?" She ignored Longshot's comment about the Black King's ring. It had been entrusted into her hands, and she intended to keep it there until she could return it to Max's. She did not expect that the Knight would choose to challenge her over it now, not in front of a room full of Pawns with so much else of importance to address. And the future would take care of itself... perhaps, by the time he thought to pursue it, the ring would be hers by right. |
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| Keniuchio Harada | Jun 12 2012, 07:51 PM Post #20 |
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Unregistered
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Grax'xen landed on the ground below the terrace with an uncanny grace, the Skrull was furious, his chance at being under cover, he'd only just started his mission of infiltrating the White Court and that chance had been destroyed because Le'Xril couldn't keep her emotions in line and so their mission had been jeapordised and they now had to return to the Queen with their tails between their legs. The two female Skrull were already meters ahead of Grax'xen, believing that they were safe from any potential attacks, Grax'xen began to sprint after the others, he danced around the psibolt that was fired at them, even though he had no need to dodge around them. He managed to make several more meters towards his freedom then something knocked Grax'xen from his feet. The ground rushed up towards his face, scratching away at his face as he slid to a stop in a pile on the floor. Pain filled Grax'xen's vision, he tried to get up but all he could feel was pain, like volcanoes in his body the pain was erupting from his leg and lower back, one of Longshot's knives had buried itself within Grax'xens leg and the second had buried itself in his lower back. All he could do now was watch on as his two allies continue their escape, but for Grax'xen his mission was now over, though he was far from dead. |
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| Tarot | Jun 12 2012, 08:11 PM Post #21 |
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Unregistered
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A cascade of revelations struck the room in a torrent of sundered notions, starting with the King’s transformation and punctuated with the others; Sage, Harada, and several Pawns. The Queen’s order to make contact with Forge came first, but Mastermind quickly interjected with her task for the Black Knight. It appeared as though his knives had yet to be quenched of their vigilant bloodlust. Though she knew that she was no creature-in-hiding, Marie still felt the apprehension in her gut all too well as the Black Knight’s blades sung through the air. The sense of relief that followed her safety was immeasurable. Those the Frenchwoman considered as allies amongst the Hellfire Club, Harada aside, were left standing amongst the truthful – a somewhat ironic turn for Jason, she mused. Meanwhile, his daughter issued out commands for several of the Pawns, Marie-Ange included. She would make her attempts to contact the White King first, as ordered by her Queen, and then consult her cards for any knowledge she could pull forth from beyond the astral veil. Still, there was a sense of unease about the false Knight’s unmasking, beyond the obvious and already stated. “My Queen, if you will permit me to speak for only a moment,” she said with a bowed head. “Only two days ago, the White Knight asked that I demonstrate my strength to him under the claim that it was to ascertain the Club’s preparedness in case of another assault. I now believe that M'sieur Harada’s imposter was pulling information on our abilities in case of a physical altercation. A clash, if you will. In fact, many of the readings I’ve performed for several members, some currently in this room even, have pointed to some unclear strife in the eminent future. I think… I am positive we can expect more blood before this is over.” She spoke quickly and humbly, words pouring out from her thoughts and her fast-fire tongue articulating them without delay. “If there is nothing else you would need of me, Mademoiselles White Queen and Black Rook, I can be on my way to try and contact the White King immediately and then consult the tarot for us.” |
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| Betsy Braddock | Jun 12 2012, 10:11 PM Post #22 |
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Telepathy (I'm not a bloody ninja)
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((less of the skipping please, it's making it hard for people to keep up)) Betsy Braddock was borderline appalled. Was this the Hellfire Club she had come back to or some teenaged darke school of drama and mystery? Still all out on the terrace, everyone was pitching in, trying to impress, show off and spew out as much as possible before Longshot had even completed his task of apprehending the skrulls. The White Queen knew she had delivered her orders, but this was utterly ridiculous… Not to mention Regan turning up pathetically late, making several assumptions out in the open air. Well, that was sensible. Already she was talking to Longshot as if he were inferior to her own rank, even going so far as to take Max’s ring and stand beside her. It seemed that the Rook was trying to be much more than she really was even capable of, as so far Regan had displayed very little that made her suitable for such a role and the timing of her showing such behaviour was suspicious. Then Icarus…This was all descending into farce. She could see that the Black Knight was livid at how the Pawn spoke out, feeding them information that was total unnecessary and chained together in such a way that he either must have known much in advance and just not shared…rather like Regan. Psylocke didn’t bat an eyelid while Longshot acted, knowing there was no need and really, very little use in bringing the little killer to heel; in this moment, no one in the world other than his own true King would be able to do such a thing and he would kill anyone who stood between himself and Max. Anyone. Folding her arms, she let out a very soft sigh and surveyed the gathered crew with narrowed, steely blue eyes. The White Queen was not happy, but she refrained from raising her voice in an unseemly fit of anger. “Rook. Give the ring to Longshot. Now. It is imperative he take it, in case he can glean any useful information to it. While it’s nice to see you’ve grown something of a backbone, you are overstepping the mark. The Black Knight is still your superior and I really don’t think he needs instructions from you or anyone in how to strike down our foes. Remember your place.” Looking to Jay, she just shook her head. “Thank you, for that rather…revealing information Pawn, but did I ask you where the X-men were? Did I ask their status, the state of their equipment? No. Half of what you have informed us can be found through the news and the other half is unnecessary to us…and you better hope to god they don’t find out what you just let slip either. For now, keep your theories safe in your head until we are in a more suitable place to discuss matters,” she gestured to the terrace. “Simply find out what the X-men know about these…things. It is rare in these times that they do not know something. If you are not up to the task, I will send someone else.” Regan was starting to get on her nerves. So far she had been late to the gathering, which seemed suspicious in itself, skulking in and acting without surprise at the events that were unfolding, greedily grabbing at command and delivering orders as if she were King and Queen both. “I have already delivered orders, Regan. If you had bothered showing up on time, then you would know this. Again, Rook, your authority is superseded by that of Longshot as well as myself. I am still Queen here. What have you done to earn the right? Picking up a fallen ring does not give you command, it merely makes you a magpie. Also, I do find it so very interesting you walk in, seemingly so prepared with a plan of action…” now, if she would only just give Longshot back the ring, it was possible that he would find out some very interesting things about the ghastly woman as well as any shred of evidence about the Black King. The Rook was harrying around the staff, again exceeding her authority and Betsy shook her head lightly. ::Report to me or the Black Knight, hope for the White King’s return but do not bank on it until we know for certain that he has not been taken as well. Sage has not always been Hellfire; get into the old system if you can, but remember if Sage was replaced by an imposter, then they may have learnt from her. Keep things basic, security, power and necessary systems only. Until the White Kin hopefully returns and can develop something, we should keep things old school.:: ::Security team, I will be sending someone your way on his return, to test the systems for you. I think you’ll find him very capable.:: Here, Betsy paused, pulled her blackberry from her pocket and turned away as she spoke into it. “Yes. You need to come in, now.” Turning back, Betsy slid the device into the pocket, her voice as calm and neutral as it had been to start with. There was little authority in angry shouting after all. While she was broiling inside, the telepath was far from showing it, her face a stony mask. “Longshot, here a moment,” she beckoned the Knight towards her, but stepped forwards herself, so that she might meet the Knight halfway. Gently, she placed two fingers under his chin and looked him in the eyes, carefully allowing her own ring to brush his skin. “After what we have been through, you know I am myself. And I know there is nothing in the world that will stop you from finding your King again so I shall only give you one order, one you know and hold to heart anyway; serve Hellfire. That is all I ask.” The Pawn from her own White Court piped up and at least had something rather sensible to say. “That’s a very likely assumption. How did he make you fight, just with your gifts? Or was there a degree on unarmed combat?” she quizzed. Her own telepathic blasts had had no effect on the creatures when they had tried to escape, so Betsy was already planning on arming herself with firearms from her own cache that she kept on hand. Lacking physical abilities made her keep such weapons just in case of another Apocalypse or Purifier event. Betsy loathed being physically weak. “I suggest you arm yourself, Marie. A gun, knives, whatever you feel most comfortable with. If they have an expectation of us, we must defy that. But it is imperative you contact the White King, then report to me immediately.” Nodding to the Pawn, she allowed he eyes to scan the area and they rest upon the shape of the green hued monstrosity that had been her White Knight. Well, that was about typical of her luck, wasn’t it? “Longshot, when you’ve done finding what you can from the ring…I suggest you treat our dear guest over there to some true Hellfire hospitality,” her words were of course suggestive, rather than commanding, but she knew that his luck would allow him to find out whatever he could before he got carried away. If he had better things to do, then she would simply conduct the interrogation herself. It had been a while since she had needed to do anything like that, but her STRIKE training had included such grim tasks…with or without her telepathy. “Now Regan, why don’t you go and be a good Rook and find this intel from SHIELD that you seem so certain of. If it’s so traumatic for you to contact Sanctuary, I shall speak with Magneto myself, whom I had already smoothed matters of your removal over with in case you had forgotten,” again, the same even tone but good grief, this woman was absolutely infuriating. Things were going to be awfully interesting when Sage got back to them and heard about this and you didn’t need to be a precog to work that out either. “Follow your orders. More will be given within the hour once the remaining Inner Circle have reported in, we are sure our security systems are in order and we’ve learnt what we can from our honoured guest here. Do I have to repeat myself or are you going to continue acting the superior and undermining the authority of those present who outrank you?” Betsy folded her arms, glancing daggers. “That goes for all of you. This is not the time to try and act up, to grab glory or win brownie points. Serve. When we have weathered this storm – and we will – then you shall all receive what is coming to you. If I need to repeat myself on this matter then I shall telepathically tattoo it into your subconscious. Am I understood?” |
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| Jason Wyngarde | Jun 13 2012, 05:04 AM Post #23 |
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Unregistered
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Though Queen Psylocke and Jason often times did not see eye to eye, he knew that she heard him when he spoke, and through the years she had listened to him and many times had heeded his counsel in certain matters. It was what made a good leader, a certain level of trust in the rest of the team. With regard to the implications leveled toward Sage he knew it could have gone either way. He knew by the ominous smile that she gave him that some bit of news must have reached her ears, and unfortunately he could only venture a guess as to what precisely his Queen might have heard. But that was for later. For now she turned her suspicions toward the imposter and he smirked just slightly at the sharp report of the smack across Sage’s face. She had that one coming and then some. He was somewhat taken aback however when the White Knight and Sage suddenly turned a shade of green. Jason could scarcely keep the look of disgust and contempt off of his face. “Regan? The last time I saw her, she was-“ But he was interrupted by the sound of his daughter’s voice. He turned to her with a raised brow, curious to exactly where she was headed with her words, and pleasantly scandalized when she put the ring on her finger. Regan was a smart young lady. She knew what she was doing. All of this was a very calculated risk, and Jason was curious to see how this was going to play out. “SHIELD,” Jason said in agreement with the Black Pawn. “I thought it was particularly fortuitous timing that they showed up when they did.” He put a hand up to his chin as he thought it through, an action that was cut somewhat short when Longshot barked out a warning to the Black Pawn and then released a volley of his blades. Jason froze where he was, feeling the rush of wind as the razor sharp knives volleyed past him. He turned his head with wide eyes as several other Pawns crumpled to the ground, their death reverting them back to the green creatures that they truly were. His respect for the capabilities of the Black Knight was already high. At this point however, he realized that he could have possibly underestimated the full extent of usefulness of that luck of his. The first display of initiative that Regan had displayed had not been kindly received. Longshot was angry with her, as was Queen Psylocke. And Regan surely knew that she was walking on thin ice…which was why he was thoroughly convinced that she was up to something when she began issuing orders to everyone very regally. He looked at her curiously, unsure exactly what to make of the display and unwilling to support or condemn it until he knew what she was doing. When she was finished Jason turned his attention toward Betsy with a quirked eyebrow. It might have been his imagination but he thought he saw the flush of anger tinting her cheeks and the spark of fire in her eyes. Could it be that his daughter was purposely trying to illicit a passionate response? Was she trying to draw the emotional strings tight? When people got that upset they tended to react out of emotion rather than with intelligent forethought. For all that Jason suspected his Queen of seething inwardly, he had to admit that she handled it relatively calmly. Key words tipped him off to what was truly going on in her heart, but outwardly she kept a marvelous amount of poise and an impressive amount of control. Turning one last look at his daughter while Betsy continually pointed out her rank, he lifted his brows again. Was this what she had been after? And then when Betsy had finished he spoke up. “We should find out what powers do and do not work on them. I have a suspicion that my illusions are worthless on them. But as the Black Knight has wonderfully illustrated, they are susceptible to knives…and I assume guns as well.” Looking at Betsy he posed a question. “With your leave we could make sure everyone who needs and can use a weapon can get one. There are a few supply bins stashed throughout the club…as you well know.” Keeping his voice low, he chose a more diplomatic approach than his daughter had. “Would you like me to ensure that we truly are on lockdown, Queen Betsy?” King Forge left them with many useful resources. |
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| Longshot | Jun 14 2012, 04:24 AM Post #24 |
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Probability, Psychometry, Cloned Origin, Empathic Charisma
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People forgot that Longshot was dangerous. Because he was pretty, because he was childlike, because he was fond of costumes and was as attracted to the shiny things as a magpie, sometimes it was easy to forget that he was not just the pampered pet of the Black King. Longshot was not something that just anyone could order, he was not a weapon that just anyone could aim. His creators had thought him something they controlled and they ended up dead, very messily and painfully dead. If Longshot wanted to kill, he would do so, even if it broke him because he trusted so completely in his instincts. When he had shattered himself to destroy Mojo, he hadn't thought about the consequences because his luck would protect him. The Shroud, when he had found the broken clone, he was smart enough to know that Longshot needed to be handled in a very specific manner. Very few knew how to handle him. The Shroud did, Psylocke did, the real Sage was close... no one else knew how to properly direct him, and many people who tried would find themselves on the wrong side of his anger. But, the one thing that could lock Longshot into focus better than anything else, was the threat of harm coming to his king and his court. As he straightened from his whirl of blade and anger, and his orders were given, Longshot barely registered the tensions in the room, or the angers that were bandied about in the aftermath of the terrible terrible betrayal that had occurred here. Because one of his blades had caught more than a pawn. Longshot crouched beside the skrull who had masqueraded as the White Knight, and he pulled the blades out of the creature's leg and back. "What are you?" he asked, in a tone of wonder, though there was more than a overlay of fury. "We've seen another like you, you know, and he tried to make us believe impossible things. Silly creature. I believe impossible things every day. I'm not so easily tricked, especially when one of you decides to pose as people who are important to me. I don't have a lot of people who are important, so you'll understand that this makes me very stabby." |
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| Mastermind | Jun 14 2012, 04:30 AM Post #25 |
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Well, now, isn't that interesting? Regan's superficial appearance didn't change during the White Queen's speech. Even those few observers who were privileged to view her real appearance (including, she suspected, Max's computerized avatar) would not notice much reaction, as she had long since learned not to give away her true feelings through her expression, any more than the White Queen's expression revealed any emotion. Privately, though, she was fascinated by what was being revealed around her. To judge from Betsy's comments, the Queen's primary focus appeared to be, not the security of Hellfire nor tracking down the source of the impostors in their midst, but addressing issues of rank and protocol. Why?It seemed strangely out of character for the Queen. Regan remembered when the Black King had been taken by the Purifiers; back then, Betsy had chastised Regan for not taking the initiative in securing their defenses and tracking down his kidnappers. Not this time, though. Why the difference? she wondered. Was it really just because Regan had challenged the hierarchy, showed insufficient deference? If so, that suggested the hierarchy was far less stable than Regan had thought, which was itself useful information. Or was all of this misdirection, merely what Betsy wanted everyone to think? That made more sense to Regan than taking any of it at face value. It didn't do to underestimate the White Queen, after all, the woman had an extremely sharp mind, and nobody got very far in the Hellfire Club without learning to conceal their true motives. But that still left her initial question unanswered: why? Regan didn't know, but she intended to find out; in her experience such tiny inconsistencies were the loose threads by which grand conspiracies unraveled. She would investigate further as time and circumstances allowed; who knew what she would uncover? In the meantime, though, her more immediate concern was the Black King's ring, which suddenly seemed almost as important to Betsy as the privileges of rank. Actually, Regan wondered, might her sudden interest in the latter be intended to distract attention from the former? If so, it was actually quite clever: anyone listening might well conclude that the ring was just another status symbol, important to the Queen only as a way to further berate Regan, much like her repeated belaboring of Regan's inferior rank had been. And now that she thought about it, the Queen's reference to Regan "picking up a fallen ring" was itself odd... after all, Betsy had not been present when Max was taken, so hadn't seen her pick up the ring at the time, so the fact that she knew of it at all meant she had more sources of information than she was disclosing here. Might this all be a set piece? she wondered, cursing herself for not having thought of the possibility earlier. After all, Max had arranged for Regan to obtain the ring, to discover the Black Queen's deception, to find his avatar; it was entirely plausible that he'd also arranged all of this. His own replacement and unmasking, this public struggle session with Betsy, everything. This was the Hellfire Club, after all, nothing was what it seemed on the surface; they might all be performing for the benefit of their audience. A possibility well worth exploring, but right now it didn't matter; even if it was a set piece, she was presumably expected to remain in character for it, and do exactly what she would have done had she not thought of the possibility. Which left her in exactly the same dilemma she'd started out with. She was within her rights to refuse both Betsy's order and Longshot's as regarded the ring, of course, since she was following orders from the King of her own Court in doing so. She had to assume that, had Max wanted the ring passed to someone else, he would have arranged for that, or at least instructed her to do so when she contacted him in SHIELD's prison. He hadn't; instead, he had instructed her to take action with it herself, which was what she'd done. Of course, the Queen was right that Longshot's power might extract information from it, but it would presumably also disclose certain facts that the Black King had chosen not to reveal to the rest of the Inner Circle -- the location of his journal and of his hidden lair, most crucial among them. (Until a few moments ago, she would have said that the Black Queen's impostor status was the most crucial secret, but of course that was no longer a secret.) Hence, the dilemma. But she was not about to explain any of that in such a public setting, especially if there might still be spies among them, as the "set piece" theory suggested. After all, not all spies were shapeshifters. On the other hand the Queen's public orders had allowed for very little wiggle room; she had given Longshot's investigation of the Black King's ring precedence over even his investigation of the fallen corpses, to which the Knight had already turned his attention. (Again, why? Could the ring really be more important than the corpses themselves? Regan could not imagine how. What was she missing?) It was at about that point that she looked down and realized the Black King's ring was no longer on her hand at all. Her illusory form continued to wear it, of course, and showed no signs of disturbance except, perhaps, a slight stiffness as Regan scanned the balcony, just in time to see it fall off the railing, bounce off the floor, and "coincidentally" land neatly in the Black Knight's palm. Privately, she swore, but on the other hand this was presumably evidence that Longshot's possession of the ring really was in Max's best interests. At least, that's how she understood the clone's probability-manipulating power to work. In any case, it no longer mattered: for good or bad, the fate of the Black King's ring had literally been taken out of her hands, she had to accept it and move on. "Now Regan, why don't you go and be a good Rook and find this intel from SHIELD that you seem so certain of." "Of course," she replied smoothly, the only visible reaction she'd given to any of what had transpired before her illusory image blinked out. She admired the way Betsy had framed her directive to investigate SHIELD; an impressive feat of misdirection. After that tirade, and all of the gratuitous insults she had peppered it with, anyone in the room would no doubt consider Regan's assignment irrelevant and unnecessary, assigned to her merely as a dismissive afterthought, just another personal slight in a volley of slights. Hell, the performance had even convinced Regan herself! Only the fact that the real Black King had last been seen in SHIELD's possession gave Regan any clue of the genuine importance of her investigation, and now she could engage it without fear of interference. Some days, Regan thought cheerfully as she physically left the room, eager to begin that investigation, I really do love my job. |
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| Keniuchio Harada | Jun 14 2012, 05:59 PM Post #26 |
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Grax'xen was still sprawled on the floor, with the injury to his leg he certainly wasn't going to be able to hobble along let alone walk or even run away from the club, but that wasn't going to stop him from trying to make his escape. With his body pushed to the floor he tried to pull himself along in a style similar to that of a soldier crawling along the ground. Each time he moved though, his body reminded him of the two blades that were wedged into his body, each wound overloading his sensory system with pain signals causing him to cease his attempt to move further. The Skrull could hear the sound of footsteps approaching him, and so either way his escape was now a moot point, before he could try and crawl any further away. Longshot then yanked the blades from the Skrull, causing Grax'xen to grunt with pain. The Skrulls blood was now seeping through the expensive suit that it had stolen from Harada's wardrobe, now adding to the other dirt that had already gathered on the suit. Longshot begun to speak to Grax'xen, informing him that this wasn't the first Skrull that he had encountered, that wasn't surprising was it? The Skrull had infiltrated everywhere. "You want me to talk, Black Knight?" Grax'xen smirked a somewhat pained smirk, before spitting at Longshot's feet. "You'll have to do better than two knives if you want to get anything out of me." The Skrull was not about to betray his kind, just because he'd been captured. |
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| Gambit(Matt) | Jun 14 2012, 11:57 PM Post #27 |
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Kinetic Energy Manipulation, Empathic Charm
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“Is there anything else I can get you, my Knight?” Remy paused, hand resting halfway in the small safe he kept hidden in his room, a small camera in his gloved hand. An eyebrow raised at the fact that he had been caught unawares by a pawn in his own room. Mouth twitching downward in a brief frown, Gambit placed the camera the rest of the way in the safe and swung the heavy door till it clicked into place. With a spin of the combination lock, the Prince of Thieves turned on his heels, the evidence of his unhappiness already gone by the time he turned to face the young woman who held a single tumbler and an unopened bottle of Blue Label Scotch on a tray as if it were a delicate dish instead. “No thanks, cha,” he said as he walked away from the safe, not bothering to close it now that she'd seen its location. Gambit wasn't the trusting sort, and had hoped to keep as many people from knowing its location or what he had put in there as possible, but there was no use in crying over spilled milk. Besides... as a lifetime thief, he knew that locks were for honest people. No security system or lock had been made that he couldn't work through, even if he had to resort to his mutant abilities to get through them. Still... one had to try. He gave the young pawn a once over, but immediately dismissed asking her to stay... he wasn't exactly on leave at the moment, and annoying a higher-up because he was indisposed at an improper time wasn't the wisest move to make this early in his newest career in the Hellfire Club. As if to support that very thought, his communicator signaled that his Queen needed him, and he immediately brought it to his lips, “This is Gambit.” “Yes. You need to come in, now.” There was no denying the woman when she had that tone in her voice... apparently the meeting she had been called to had gone less than well, and Betsy Braddock had need of him. “In two shakes,” he said before pocketing the comm. He nodded to the tray the young woman still held, “How 'bout you bring dat back later tonight and share it with me?” She gave him a smile that combined coquettishness and shyness into a perfect blend, “Of course. I'll be awaiting your call.” Playtime would come later... there was another game to play at the moment... a much more dangerous game. Moments later Remy entered the terrace where the meeting was held and could immediately tell things were tense. He didn't even need to be a psychic. He'd heard Betsy as he approached the chamber, but by the time he'd entered, the White Queen had wrapped up whatever it was she'd been saying to the Rook. Gambit's eyes were already searching the area, noting Longshot crouching over a Skrull, which he had not expected to see in here. His best poker face kept the surprise from being evident. The Black Rook replied and moved to immediately do as she was told, retreating from the group to perform her duties. Gambit's eyes followed her as she passed him, and he gave her one of his best smiles as he rasped, “Lookin' good cha.” Immune to psychic abilities, he had no idea what the woman's chosen form looked like... all he saw was the real thing. Hands in his pockets, he moved further into the terrace to stand just behind and to the left of where the Queen was, that knowing smile already gone. He gave Jason a quick look as the man was suggesting that they arm all of their people with weapons. He leaned forward to whisper into his Queen's ear, “Finished... it's in my safe. I'll get it to you later.” Straightening, Remy's red on black eyes immediately settled on the Skrull, a throwing knife of his own slipping from some hidden location up his sleeve to rest in a loose grip. It already cast a faint fuchsia glow as the thief listened to the Skrull defy the little clone assassin. “Anything I can do to help? Maybe if you heated those knives up a li'l, he'd be a little quicker to spill a few secrets.” |
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| Tarot | Jun 17 2012, 10:15 PM Post #28 |
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“I was instructed to use my constructs against him,” she said in response to the White Queen's query. “We ended in stalemate.” Marie-Ange did not mention that she hadn’t used all of her strength against him, that she held back. That wasn’t truly important at the moment and she wondered whether or not the creatures might have had the Hellfire Club bugged. It was certainly within Sage’s capabilities and the imposters seemed able to mimic the powers of their original templates. If such were the case, it would be better that she withheld that tidbit of information lest whoever may be listening make arrangements to counter the girl’s peak abilities. Rather than simply chatting about it, it would be more sensible to simply demonstrate her strength to the Court if and when the time comes. ”I suggest you arm yourself, Marie. A gun, knives, whatever you feel most comfortable with. If they have an expectation of us, we must defy that. But it is imperative you contact the White King, then report to me immediately.” “Of course, White Queen. I’ll leave now,” she replied softly. She made her way to the door, though she lingered in the doorway for a moment to hear the tail end of the Queen’s edict to everyone in the room. Serve… As she moved out, the Frenchwoman crossed paths with the crimson-eyed Cajun and offered a curt nod in his direction before continuing on her way. Unfortunately, she wasn’t quite sure how she was going to be able to contact the King with all the Club’s power resources and systems delegated to the basics. It was her understanding that he was difficult to get a hold of when away on his trips, but she’d do everything in her power to try and succeed. Before she was too far down the hall, her Queen’s warning resounded in her thoughts. She called for Marie to arm herself, but the girl had better protection dwelling in her genes than any knife or firearm could afford. In a quick moment, she removed two cards from her dress pocket and twin knights appeared, flanking Marie-Ange as she marched to the communications room with evident purpose. [Exit] |
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| Longshot | Jun 19 2012, 11:29 PM Post #29 |
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Probability, Psychometry, Cloned Origin, Empathic Charisma
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"You want me to talk, Black Knight?" Grax'xen smirked a somewhat pained smirk, before spitting at Longshot's feet. "You'll have to do better than two knives if you want to get anything out of me." Longshot smiled, very prettily, and he said, "I don't need you to talk, creature." He reached out his hand, and caught the Black King's ring as it so conveniently slipped from the Rook's finger. Instantly, new stories of his king and of Regan's conversations regarding what had happened filled his mind, but he pushed them aside for later scrutiny. There were more important things to worry about. He slipped the ring on his own finger for safe keeping, and then, casually, as he fiddled with the ring as if distracted by the bit of shiny ebon diamond, he said, "I can only read the stories off of inanimate objects, yes, but if I use these two knives you so lightly cast aside in the proper fashion? Well, then, you'll be inanimate quite soon." “Anything I can do to help? Maybe if you heated those knives up a li'l, he'd be a little quicker to spill a few secrets.” Looking up, Longshot's smile faded into a terse straight line. Gambit. Yes, he had quite forgotten about the cajun who was now in the service of the White Queen. It made sense, yes, and honestly, there was no reason for Longshot not to like the man. Of course, when he had been with the Brotherhood there was talk that he had done improper things with someone that Longshot cared for, but his psychometry had told him that such a thing was a ruse to save her life. The little clone was very grateful he had risked so much to save Alix, but there was still something about him that he just did not trust. Or perhaps he was jealous? Longshot was not above admitting that was a possibility. At any rate, it really didn't matter as long as he served the court properly. As people began to disperse to follow the White Queen's wishes, Longshot hunkered on his heels beside the fallen imposter. "I imagine, Gambit, that there are many things that you and I could do to this repulsive thing to make him talk, but I wonder if it matters. After all, the Black Rook was so gracious as to keep my King's ring for him, so I don't need it to tell me any shapeshifting muckity muck trade secrets. With the Court's permission, I would request we concern ourselves with the matter at hand and go find my King." He flipped a blade in his hand, balancing it on the tip of a finger before driving it into the skrull's wrist, to pin him to the floor. "Or I may not be able to control my innate stabbiness." |
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| Betsy Braddock | Jun 20 2012, 03:36 PM Post #30 |
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Telepathy (I'm not a bloody ninja)
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Why did people think silently bitching was any use around a telepath? It was something she had noticed relatively early on when working with STRIKE and she was still getting to grips with filtering out all the unnecessary chaff of thoughts that milled around the occasionally chaotic headquarters where she had practically lived at points for six years. When she had gotten a handle on it, Betsy still needed to dive in and out of thoughts now and again, rather like a watchdog, basically to make sure everyone was on track and not being loose lipped about any of their operations. It was rare this happened, but all the same, she had often ‘overheard’ many complaints, gripes and other such thoughts that she didn’t exactly care to. Although, sometimes it was funny and occasionally it was lewd, but Psylocke had always figured that Wisdom just did it on purpose. It took most of her strength not to run her hand across her forehead from the stray thoughts that she was now picking up. Normally, even in the cutthroat world of the Hellfire Club, the White Queen did operate with a degree of telepathic etiquette, but considering the imposters were like a great black void she could not enter, there was only one surefire way of making certain that everyone was whom they appeared to be; skimming through their minds. Beside her, Jason spoke of opening up the caches of weapons as she nodded slightly. “Yes, make sure the armouries are as they should be,” Betsy had her own little stock of weapons and later that night she would be down in one of the basements, using it as a firing range unless someone else decided to act like a child, in which case she would be practising on their kneecaps. “As for the lockdown, I’ve already relayed instructions to the security team and I belive…Excellent timing, Gambit,” turning, she saw the White Knight flow into the room like a cat. Approaching her, he leaned in to whisper in her ear and tilting her head back to look up and him, she gave the Cajun thief the smallest of smiles. “Excellent work. For now I need you to go and command our security teams and test our systems. It seems we’ve had a number of imposters in the Club and one of them was Sage. Sage effectively ran all our security and our other systems, so…As you can imagine that leaves us in a very vulnerable spot until we can reapply something else. These imposters seem to be capable of replicating powers and absorbing the knowledge of the person they took the shape of,” Betsy gestured down. “Or, so I assume from how they managed to fool us all for god knows how long. As such, we need to treat the Club as compromised and I want to rely on technological systems as little as possible, aside from the necessary areas of basic power and so forth. So gentlemen, you get to be a little old fashioned with your motives. Jason, when you’re done with the weapons, assist Remy, but report in regularly to me.” Tarot…Oh, she meant well, but as soon as she was through the doors, she was doing just what Betsy had gently advised against. Maybe she would need a little chat with the Pawn later, about changing tactics and the like; never do what the enemy expected of you, especially when they already had a measure of your power, no matter how big or small that measure was. But at this very second, all that mattered that she was going to do as bidden and the telepath hoped that the young Frenchwoman would be able to contact the White King quickly…or not contact him at all as the case may be, but either way, they needed to know and they needed to know at once. Hopefully, her call to Sanctuary would be brief and Magneto able – right now Psylocke was not so interested if he was willing – to see her to talk about such things soon. A problem shared is a problem halved, or so the saying went. While she was not banking on it, the telepath hoped that the leader of the Brotherhood would have information of his own. After all, just because they could get into SHIELD’s systems did not mean that all the information they would find would be genuine or even complete. It wasn’t as if they were college students hacking into the school network, you didn’t get much bigger or complex. If they had the real Sage…Time would tell if the information they collected would be just what they needed…or not. Walking carefully around to where the Skrull was floored, Betsy dropped gracefully into a crouch beside the green skinned man, her face largely without expression as she studied him. “People have claimed for hundreds of years that they will not talk, that they will not scream, or give up what is within them, no matter what is done to them. It’s awfully noble and true of them, but considering your charade, however long you have carried it on for, is hardly noble and true. You’ll talk. Your sort always do, darling,” her mouth turned downwards into a sneer for a brief flicker, before she stood back up and looked at Longshot meaningfully, before nodding once. The clone had been bred for work such as this; he needed no instructions from her; whatever it took to find his King, the Knight would do it and he would kill every single one of the green skinned monsters if that was what it took. Every single one. But then again, they all would, for that is what made them Hellfire. [align=center]-end-[/align] |
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2:16 PM Jul 11