16002/The Bloodhound Checks In

The Bloodhound Checks In
Date of Scene:	27 January 2024
Location:	Club Lux, Melville
Synopsis:	The Bloodhound arrives at Lux to give her report. It's not good news.
Cast of Characters:	Psylocke, Lucifer, Sinister, Phantasm (Drago)

---

Psylocke has posed:
It's so late in the evening at Club Lux that it's morning, but that doesn't mean things are quiet. Many club-goers are here until the literal sun comes up -- very soon -- and so when the white-haired bloodhound, Kate, shows up, it's into a sea of patrons she disappears.

Well... sort of disappears. Her white hair stands out. Not too many people of that natural hair color tend to hang out in Lux.

She's breathing deeply, her nose wrinkled because she can scent the trace of mutant all over this place. But that's not why she's here, for once. Why she's here is... is...

She's hunting for someone. There's a thing she needs to do. The specifics aren't clear, yet the compulsion makes that irrelevant.

Lucifer has posed:
The owner and proprieter of Lux stands in his usual perch. He holds a glass of iced whiskey in one hand while stark blue eyes roam over the club and the inhabitants that remain. Some still on the dance floor, others oogling the caged dancers, more at the bars both above and below getting one last drop of alcohol to soothe over their night. Then his ears twitch, his nose flares and his gaze shifts around until he's got her in his sights. The white haired one. Gaze narrows even as he straightens his tie, smooths out his charcoal jacket and walks down the spiral staircase to intercept the hunter. For she has become his prey.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister has no business nudging people toward the door, given that it's not his esablishment to be doing such a thing in, but there are individuals who have had too much and won't go of their own initiative -- all of them have things to do, kebab cravings, or breakfast stacks of pancakes to purchase or just a sudden realization that they've got more booze at home and doesn't that look like Coyote Ugly? Oh, that will be interesting in the morning.

The presence of one that has been 'marked' by him causes him to look from his latest silent stare of motivation, toward the dance floor and the remains of the night. The movement of Lucifer draws a grey gaze that way, then slowly to the huntress as she seeks.

He cocks his head, moves to a booth and settles with a call of "...Tea. My earl grey, please, with lemon..."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
While it may be late in the evening, Nick is still present at the club. It seems the presence of the room for his own use in the hotel area makes it a bit easier to relax. And relax he does. He's even gone so far as to get a SECOND beer at the bar. (Careful there, big spender of other people's money)

As he's relaxed, he doesn't quite notice the newest entrant to the bar. It's a safe place, he doesn't have to. Which just leads to the circular relationship between relaxed and safe place.

Psylocke has posed:
One circuit of the floor tells the Bloodhound there are plenty of targets, but none are her reason for being here. It's as she's circling again that the crowd spills away and Lucifer Morningstar approaches her. She stills, just like prey. Yet there's something predatory in her eyes as he approaches her.

He is not who she's here for. On the upside, he /doesn't/ smell of mutant and there's no denying he's incredibly alluring. She is, after all, only human.

Human...ish.

Kate's mouth parts. She has a suspicion. Unfounded, but an instinct. Some unconscious part of her associates this one with HIM. "Take me to him," she says -- demands.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer pauses just as he reaches the white-haired one. Kate. One brow lofts upwards at her demand and he looks around the room once before settling his gaze back on her. "Him? Him who? There are many hims here. I could take you to Jerry... but I don't think he's your type. Randal might be a good fit..." He looks her over once and then clucks his tongue.

"Ah...perhaps not..."

Then his gaze shifts - ever so fleetingly - to the one sitting in the booth ordering his earl grey with lemon. Once those blues turn back to her, his lips veer into a hard smirk. "I do not think you know just what you're playing at, little one. You do not come here, into my business, my domain and make demands of me. Give me one good reason why I should take you to -HIM-..." There's a pause. A lingering. "And I might just consider it. But do be careful, child. Many who dare to dance in my flames often get burned to the very stardust they were created from."

Sinister has posed:
Ohh, she and her crew did annoy Lucifer quite a bit when they popped in here, didn't they? Well, not horrendously so, he managed to get through it with his shirt entirely intact and without even a bruise. But it's intention, audacity, that kind of thing.

Maybe it's the feeling of the hackles vicariously rising that makes Essex look from Janice, his waitress of choice, to the interaction with Kate. He arches a brow, lips parted a moment and forming slowly into an 'o'. "Ahh," as those lips relax.

<<I think she's here to report. I don't think I was entirely clear whether she just needed to think at me, or to say so in person. This is, quite probably, indicative of how -she- thinks more so than not.>>

A pause.

<<Nick! Head's up. White-hair is here to share information...>> which came all unbidden alongside a <<...don't spill your drink.>>

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Yep. Not a thing to-

<<Nick!>>

Nick's posture straightens up, hand hitting the glass just so as the liquid shimmies to one side as the glass tilts that way. Eyes widening, the musician works upon the most important issue to deal with at the moment. His other hand reaches up to prevent the glass from continuing it's tip over, causing for the liquid to abort it's attempt at escape.

Party foul averted.

<< ...don't spill your drink.>>

"Thanks."

The bartender glances up, "Don't mention it." He responds before going back to tend to other orders.

Invite recieved, Nick collects his drink to go seek out a Sinister table with a devilish aire to it..

Psylocke has posed:
Kate's eyes narrow. She knows Lucifer knows who she's talking about. She isn't called the Bloodhound for nothing. She has the scent, and she knows this man will lead her to him. He wants a reason. A good reason. The problem is... she doesn't have one.

Her mouth parts, and she just... stops.

Like everything stops. Blinking, breathing. Like something's tripped and hasn't reset.

This is the problem with fucking around with people's brains. It has consequences.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer raises a brow, and then he sighs. "Great. You're turning into a fucking vegetable..." He says this and then, in one fell swoop, he lifts the woman up like a sack of potatoes. An announcement goes around from all the waitstaff and barkeeps that the bar is now closed and everyone needs to settle their tabs and leave. Anyone who makes a fuss can deal with the man hauling the woman like said sack of potatoes.

It's likely no one will protest.

Lucifer takes one step, two, and then he's at the booth where Nathaniel and Nick are sitting at and simply lays Kate across the top of it. "Your potatoes have arrived." No, that is not the voice of a pleased Morningstar.

Sinister has posed:
"Does this mean she's had her chips?" Sinister murmurs that mostly to himself, giving the arriving Morningstar a semi-apologetic smile of thin lips. "Oops? That can sometimes happen, if they weren't the most stable in the first place..."

Nick's arrival with his second beer not spilled, is given a nod and a rub of the nose with the back of his hand, firming up to a stern look at White-hair. "Kate," -- clickclick go the fingers -- "...Dolly needs you to talk to her. You can see her can't you? Breathe. Relax. Share with Dolly."

He eases back, chews on his cheek and casts a dart of the eye to Archangel and Dreamwalker both, then back to the mutate in waking coma-land. "She might be in need of a good solid brain zap."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
It's not long after Nick sits down that the potato platter is placed pointedly on the platform for products. Nick looks to the woman, head tilting curiously. It's definitely an odd entrance for one to be making.

He moves his glass away from the tabletop, just in case the potatoes come with a bit of a kick.

Psylocke has posed:
There's no reaction from Kate to being picked up like a literal sack of potatoes by Lucifer. If anyone was home right now there certainly would be; she's not exactly the sort to passively accept any given situation.

Fair to say Kate wasn't exactly stable before hand. She did voluntarily allow someone to turn her into the very thing she hates and despises most in the entire world. The cognitive dissonance of that surely weighs heavily.

Her gaze doesn't focus on Sinister, but his words must penetrate, because she rattles out a breath. Her eyes blink, and movement returns to her. She scrambles back across the table top (good call on the drinks) -- drawing her knees up to her chest as she backs into the wall. "Katie," she hiccups an answer. "It's Katie." She wraps her arms around her knees (or around Dolly?), wrinkles her nose as her gaze finally focuses on Sinister. "You smell funny," she says, in the bland way every child just spits out truth. "You too," to Nick, "But different." Lucifer apparently smells fine so goes uncommented upon.

Lucifer has posed:
Oh look. The potatoes moved! They have come back to life! Lucifer does not look amused. Though since Kate...Katie? The woman is here to apparently actually talk to Nathaniel and not cause trouble, Lucifer moves back a bit to claim a stool at the bar. He's immediately served a whiskey, lights up a cigarette and just watches silently for the moment. But one false move...

Sinister has posed:
"Aah, Katie, I do beg your pardon --" the observations have him giving both the men at the table and nearby the table sidelong looks. "Well, he smells of expensive aftershave, which is likely better than I smell. So, what did you see all week, Katie? You have to share with Dolly, don't you? And us."

His tea arrives and thusly, Sinister nods to Janice, watching the people filing out one by one and in crowds both. The silence is golden, when all there was for the longest while was mental noise.

"In theory, her memories of all the things she's seen and done this last little while, should be imprinted eidetically. That was part of the programming, to be exceptionally observant of all that the Friends of Humanity were doing..."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Watching the foot swing where his drink once was, Nick has a momentary moment of thankfulness that he at least had the foresight to avoid that mess. And to congratulate himself, he awards himself a sip while watching Katie.

Worst tableshow ever.

When the white haired woman talks of his scent, he arches a brow. "...Is that how you greet every guy you meet in a bar? Because I can see how that doesn't win people over."

There's a pause before Nick ever so slightly turns his head. And oh so quietly sniffs.

He's not wearing aftershave so...Ok so maybe Irish Spring does have a bit of scent to it. But it's not bad.

...

Is it?

Psylocke has posed:
Katie frowns, and then she begins to speak. Oh, she speaks. Any attempts to stop her are futile; it's like Sinister's opened the gates and the information has to pour out before the compulsion ceases.

She describes everything in intricate, careful detail as instructed. Names, explicit descriptions (down to the scars, tattoos, and number of freckles of her fellows); plans -- plans to rally and protest, to drum up support from politicians and constituents. But Kate? She's privy to more than that. Creed, however, trusts sparingly and keeps Kate at arms length -- maybe because she's now a mutant? However much he pushed her into that choice, he treats her little more than a servant. And that gets described in detail, too, because Sinister wanted to know everything about him, too.

Katie's voice is turning hoarse from talking by the time she details an operation she was part of last night where two mutants were captured, and taken to a location designated by Creed that she never knew about until now. A place where -- to believe her faltering words -- nearly a score of mutants were being stored.

Yes, she says /stored/. She'll provide the address, what she knows of the guards and what the codes were, though those change daily, she says.

Creed is particularly paranoid about this.

One thing Katie does not do is assuage Nick's doubt about his own scent. That? That just gets a blank stare as her voice finally gives out.

Lucifer has posed:
"Janice. Take the young woman a glass of water." Lucifer says this, his voice still a bit cold. Perhaps - as much as he trusts Sin - there's something about Katie that he doesn't trust. He takes another drag off his cigarette before he sips more whiskey. And then he looks to Nathaniel and tilts his head, but his question will remain private with his lover only. Even still, he remains on his barstool and just watches, but poised in a way to spring into action at the first sign of things going south.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Let it be recorded here and now.

Irish Spring does NOT smell bad.

Ok. Good?

Good.

Back to the story.

Once Katie goes into her lengthy description of things known, Nick has the sense NOT to ask what this woman considers to be a 'weird' smell. He thinks Sinister said she could sniff out mutants, but is it possible she can smell other things?

A curious look is given to Lucifer for a moment before he looks back to Katie. To the mention of mutant storage, there's an inkling of concern. Odd word choice. Are they still alive?

It's not a fun thought. Which causes for the musician to drift to a brooding silence.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister's eyes settle on Lucifer fleetingly, followed by a shake of the head. Any reply is silent, as only a telepath can manage -- his phone is extracted and he holds it in his palm, programs scrolling through until an artist 'ai' pops up. All the descriptions are fed into the machine and he holds the images up one by one to Katie.

"Just nod or shake the head, depending on accuracy. Correct what needs to be corrected verbally..." he instructs her, as Janice settles to assisting.

He cracks his neck left and right. "These should be good enough to make marks of several of the associates, which I can feed to Psylocked and X-force, including patrols, demographics, containment facilities, routines so to speak and the nature of how many individuals are being held..." he keeps his gaze on the woman, but cants his ear toward Lucifer. "Can you think of anything to probe? If not, I shall have her go back to sleep so to speak and we can let Betsy know what's going on..."

Psylocke has posed:
The compulsion is done. Dolly has been updated, and... and she needs to be elsewhere. Kate's easing off the top of the table when Janice approaches her with a glass of water. She's parched but... in the same way Lucifer doesn't trust her, it's clear Kate instinctively distrusts this whole thing, compulsion aside.

She does take the glass and downs the contents of it, pushing the empty glass back towards Janice. The bob and twist of Kate's head answers each of Sinister's questions, clarified occasionally by her still hoarse voice.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer is still doing as Lucifer does at the bar. Smoking, drinking and watching. Having a private conversation with the mindlink he has special with Nathaniel that none else are privy to. It's keeping him sane...for the most part.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister gives one parting instruction. "Go get something syrupy to drink and go home, Katie. Dolly will want updates again next week, but now we want to know the documents and paper trails. Be very careful --" he shoo's the white-haired woman off, watches the empty club a moment, then exhales.

His phone is set down, gazed at as he bundles the images so collected and compiled, the individuals that are known and the greater miasma of those that work with and for, but not on the front line of this organization.

With a finger on the screen, he speaks into the phone. "Betsy, this is Nathaniel rather obviously. WHo else calls from an encrypted number on a regular basis? I have an information package for you. You may wish to examine it in detail over a very, very stiff drink."

Psylocke has posed:
A blank look from Katie, though Sinister knows the instructions have sunk in correctly. With a last deep breath and another crease of her brow, the white-haired woman heads for the exit, not looking back. Lucifer's instincts can take a rest.

"Nathaniel." No, Betsy isn't at all surprised about who is calling her just after dawn. She also sounds awake, and like she's been in this state for a little too long. "I'm in Guadalajara," she says, and while there's nothing specific in her voice to indicate it, it feels like she's not all that happy about being there. "The only kind of drink I have access to is little more than rot-gut." But she sighs. "Send it over. I should be back in a day or two."