1858/A Dangerous Game: Recruiting the Luck Bearer

A Dangerous Game: Recruiting the Luck Bearer
Date of Scene:	07 August 2017
Location:	Gotham
Synopsis:	Domino comes home to find Mystique waiting for her. With an offer she won't refuse.
Cast of Characters:	Mystique, Domino

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Mystique has posed:
    It was, Mystique had to admit, a quaint little apartment she'd tracked Neena to. Something out of the way, something to be lost within a sea of faces, discarded, forgotten. A place where nobody would notice the white-skinned, black-eyed mutant. And if they did, they wouldn't ask questions. But it had been easy enough for Mystique to let herself in. She'd even brought a homecoming gift for them to share, a bottle of wine from the vineyards in France, circa 1960 or so. A very fine thing.
    There were no disguises. Mystique was not here to trick Neena. Not that way. So she sat in the chair, one leg crossed over the other in sublime fashion as she waited in simple black leathers, blue skin, and those odd, pupiless yellow eyes watching the door.
    It would, she surmised, be a rather lovely reunion.

Domino has posed:
She came back late.
    The door was open and unlocked. She'd left it that way on purpose, on the off chance that other visitors might come calling, as they had. The local cape brigade were keen to check up on the new blood in the neighborhood, to prevent said blood from spilling other blood. It was a bloody mess, that's what it was.
    The apartment is sparse. Spartan sparce. The kind of place you're living in when you're ready to ditch it at any given moment, and everything has its particular place. It appears the local resident is very picky about having things 'just so'.
    Cue the door opening at last, somewhere around crack o'clock, and Domino, in full gear, lays eyes on the other mutant sitting there, on her couch, with a bottle of wine. She pauses for a moment, door still not entirely open.
    "Well. First time excitement and romance has come to me instead of the other way around," she quips.

Mystique has posed:
    "Then," offers Mystique, gladly, and with a show of a bright smile upon paintd lips, "We shall drink to excitement, and romance, dear Neena. Tell me, how -have- you been?" She begins to pour the wine into two crystal glasses she'd also brought along for the occassion after popping the bottle. "I was starting to lose hope you'd show. It would have been a shame to drink the contents of this rather devine vintage without you."
    No mention, as of yet, as to the purpose of her arrival. Still, she plays the game well, adding, "You're looking as lovely as ever."

Domino has posed:
    Domino comes in and shuts the door behind her. It's now obvious she's carrying a somewhat worn out manilla folder in her other hand. She walks over to the table near the couch, and sets it down, near her closed laptop.
    "How about we drink to 'why the hell are you in my house' and 'does this have anything to do with Creed being in Gotham'?" the other mutant asks while sliding the folder partway under the computer. She turns and puts her hands on her hips. "Please tell me you'll be more forthcoming with an answer to the first question, it took me half a bottle of patrone and before Creed stopped playing cute and got down to business." She looks at the wine, smiling. "You first. I'm sure you're thirsty after that long wait."

Mystique has posed:
    "So suspicious," Mystique tsks, shaking her head slightly. "Come, now, Neena. If I wanted something that terrible from you, well, I wouldn't go about it this way, would I?" Still, she's gladly take a drink of the wine first, to prove it's natural state. Her eyes lid, decadently.
    "Oh, my reasons for being here are, I'm afraid, quite obtuse. Therefore, I'm sure you'll quite like them. I want you to help me kill a few people. Actually, quite a lot of people. I was here on my way to bring Victor in also. But, well, I stumbled across rumors of you and I couldn't pass up the opportunity."
    Another sip of the wine, thoughtful, and complacent. "We'd be traveling down to Mexico."

Domino has posed:
    "And here I am without enough work hours to qualify for time off," Domino quips. "I'm going to need a moment to think about this." She means it. She's kind of grown fond of the local chiropteran wild life.

Neena walks over to the chair on the opposite side of the couch and has a seat, reaching for an empty glass and the bottle. "One, I don't like obtuse and you know it. Two, who are the people you want to kill, and Three, didn't people get the memo that I was trying to get out of this business?"

Mystique has posed:
    Smoothly, one of Mystique's legs crosses over the other in a near-felinoid, or perhaps even fluid fashion. Perfect control of her body. In every. Single. Moment.
    She waves a hand, almost dismissively, "I heard the rumor," she conceeds, "Yes. But, I find it hard to believe. You do, afterall, have a certain talent for it. Not to mention the fine associations you make along the way. Still. If the rumors -are- true? I think you'll find this to be a reasonable exception."
    She reaches into her pocket and withdraws her own manilla envelope, to which she sets on the table for Domino to peruse as she sees fit. Within? Several pictures taken of what appears to be a rather militarized encampment. And, within that encampment? Prison cells. Each equipped with a person - or, more accurately by the collars fitted over them and several mutations less, or more severe than Mystique's own, mutants. Several armored vehicles. Even a tank. Not to mention all the heavy artillery.
    "Mutant slavers," she says, quietly. "Selling off mutants to the highest bidders. Captured like animals. Collared. And sold off like prized animals from Africa for collections."

Domino has posed:
    She picks up the folder, slowly, gloved fingers tracing over the photographs. She's quiet for a short span of time, no quips, no witty reparte, no banter. This is not the time for it. These pictures require a solemnity that her modus operandi rarely affords.
    It will come across her face and be perfectly readable, even to those without trained eyes. Her blood is boiling just looking at it. After what she's read, this strikes to close to home, too close to wounds she never knew she had. Her lips draw into a thin, unhappy line.
    Suddenly, she's all business.
    "Do we know who's doing this?" 'We'.

Mystique has posed:
    The edges of Mystique's lips tick upwards, fractionally. "Yes. We know where their base is. And, generally speaking, what their armorments afford. I am quite certain Victor will be joining us. As will Emma, and a promising telekenetic prodigy she is training. And, Cain." Mystique is not leaving anything to chance, it seems. This is no mere Brotherhood operation. There is a reason, likely, she's pulling out all the big guns. To send a message.
    "There are only three rules on this mission. No mutant dies. The collars remain intact - we'll remove them ourselves. And, the leader is left to me."
    She adds, "I think you'll agree finding a means to negate these collars is in -all- of our best interests."

Domino has posed:
    Domino sets down the papers. "Guess I'll have to tender my resignation. Shame. I was starting to like it here." She leans back against her chair, rubbing her forehead, eyes closed now.

    "Victor. Cain. Emma. Feels like I'm selling my soul to the devil."

Mystique has posed:
    "Not at all. This is an offering, only, Neena. We may not always see eye-to-eye, but I would not have felt right if I did not at least extend the opportunity to you. You have no obligation to take it," Mystique murmurs, conversationally. Of course, she knew, too, there was no way in hell Domino would turn it down. So the offer to recant was more than safe.
    She adds, "Nor are you obligated for anything further. Emma will be there to mind wipe any survivors, though - I really do not see anyone besides us, and the mutants walking out of there alive. Save for us, your part in it will go unnoticed. And unmentioned, if that's what you wish."
    There's a shrug of her shoulders, smooth and elegant. "And, if you wish no further participation in anything that may come of this? Well. That is your choice."

Domino has posed:
    For a fleeting moment, Neena understands Nathan just a little bit better than she used to.
    "Should have known better than to think I could just start over. There is no starting over," she murmurs softly, hand falling into her lap and away from her face. She shakes her hair back over her shoulders, smoothing strands behind her ears, ice blue eyes fixed on the gold opposite her. "It's never just one thing. Where there's a market to sell to, there will be buyers. Where there are collars like that, there will be people who want to use them. It doesn't end."
    "I won't be needing any mindwipes, thank you. Keep me on retainer. Vic's already made a bid I can't pass up."

Mystique has posed:
    There is something of sympathy in Mystique's voice. It may even be genuine. So hard to know with her. "From someone who has tried more often than she cares to admit, Neena. No. There is no starting over. Perhaps a repreive, every now and then. But there is always something else. We are all part of a storm. Sometimes we are merely in the eye of it. And other times, we are within it's outskirts. It comes with being a mutant. With being us."
    She finishes off her glass, then, nodding. "Retainer it is. Welcome aboard."