1895/A Dangerous Game: Recruiting the Sabrecat

A Dangerous Game: Recruiting the Sabrecat
Date of Scene:	06 August 2017
Location:	Hell's Kitchen
Synopsis:	Mystique catches up with Sabretooth, and offers him a 'job'.
Cast of Characters:	Sabretooth, Mystique

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Sabretooth has posed:
"Is it okay that I'm kind of freaking out?"

The youngish, brown-haired man nervously adjusts his tie and does his best to look like a professional. But exactly which profession he meant to dress the part of is a bit hard to tell. He kind of looks like someone's idea of a comic book assassin, complete with an expensive suit, and a chrome Desert Eagle tucked into his waistband.

"Don't worry about it, kid. This is a milk run. Just don't shoot your dick off and everything'll be fine."

The young man's companion is much larger, much older, and has a much lighter complexion. He also has a much more basic approach to... whatever these two guys are doing. Whereas the younger man is dressing the part of a flashy hitman, the older man is simply wearing a non-descript lightweight hoodie, with his hands tucked into the pockets. A pair of thick-framed glasses paradoxically draw focus away from his eyes, and the cat-like slits that make up his pupils.

The two men walk down the street, the younger scanning nervously as they get closer to their target. The older man looks downright bored, and seems to wish he were somewhere else. It's not that he's not vigilant, he just... seems to think that this is a milk run.

"Just stay calm... and whatever you do, try not to look like you're.... " Sabretooth never manages to finish his sentence, as they turn around a corner.

"Shit, that's him! Should I hit him now, or get closer?" The younger man reaches reflexively for his gun as he sees his intended target, which pretty much gives away his intent right away. Unfortunately, the man they were here to whack has some pretty vigilant security.

"Damn it, kid!" Sabretooth leaps out of the way of most of the gunfire almost immediately, and manages to only get shot three times.

The younger man is... less lucky.

Thirty seconds later, it's all over. The alleyway has been sprayed with blood and bodyparts, and anyone who wasn't directly involved is running away screaming. But Sabretooth is standing over the body of the young man who botched his first and only mission for Weapon X.

"Sorry, whatever your name was. At least we found out that you couldn't hack it during a milk run..."

Mystique has posed:
    "Victor." The words come silken, warm, and, utterly bedroom manner. She'd been following Creed downwind, knowing he - like Logan, would have picked up her scent otherwise. And that would've spoiled the game. Her pure yellow eyes, devoid of any iris or pupil slide over the chaos, the shredded flesh and blood that trickles to pool into a wet, sticky substance around the respective pile of bodies. "You should know by now so -very- few can keep up with you."
    The woman is not bothering to disguise herself, presently. Her blue skin, and black leather making it nearly impossible for her to be seen in the night, if it weren't for her yellow eyes and Creed's nose. "This looks rather dreary. I have something more intriguing for you, though. A little more challenging. And, a little more meaningful. The start of something truly great."
    She smiles. Sharply. Crooks her finger, beckconing him. "I'd not sleep well, if I knew I was leaving you to this. Come. I'll fill you in."

Sabretooth has posed:
For just a minute, one of the world's most vicious men is on the cusp of waxing philosophical about the cyclical nature of violence and the ultimate futility inherent in the nature of the profession that he's chosen. His animal instinct for bloodletting has been assuaged, after all, and he's always most clearheaded after a good kill. Or in this case, several good kills.

But then he hears a familiar voice, smells a familiar smell, and feels a familiar sense of danger running up his spine. Animal instincts of a completely different sort take precedence almost immediately. Standing up, he tosses the cracked glasses onto the pavement and literally tears off the blood-soaked hoodie, revealing a slightly less blood-soaked tank top beneath.

"Rumor is you don't never sleep, Raven. I certainly can't remember ever seein' it. Could be maybe you just don't trust me enough to close your eyes..."

Turning around, he looks perhaps a bit different from the man she saw last. For one thing, his claws are a whole lot shinier. For another, his hair is a lot shorter. But the look of playful cruelty is right there in his yellow eyes, same as ever.

"Normally I'd play harder to get, but I should get out of here ASAP. Looks like there's been a murder..." His claws and teeth still dripping with blood, Sabretooth follows the world's most enigmatic woman so quickly one might assume that she hadn't stabbed him in the back several dozen times over the past few decades.

Mystique has posed:
    Mystique is, perhaps unsurprisingly, not looking back. Victor could eviscerate her, if he so wanted. But, by the fact she has turned her back, that she is leading him through a small network of narrow alleyways, and into a half-hidden door which opens up into a small room which may, or may not be one of her innumerable safehavens considering the locks on the door when she closes it, and the several handguns, the sniper rifle, and plastic explosives sitting on shelves.
    There is a large bed in the open space, and two comfortable, if not very worn, velveteen chairs that look like they were rescued out of a home before it was going to be demolished - or off the side of the road to be thrown away.
    Mystique sits in one of these, after opening up a cabinet and offering Victor a fine german beer, his favorite, served at room temperature as it should be and not 'cold' as Americans prefer. "There is a fairly militant group in Mexico," she says, getting right down to business, "That is not only strong enough to threaten the Mexican military, but, is also a criminal empire that have kept themselves well hidden. I discovered them, recently. And one of their new ventures, Victor, is mutant enslavement. Selling mutants with - excessive features as circus creatures from the freak shows of old." These two, of course, are old enough to remember such things. Remember when mutants were a part of that, like her and Victor who weren't so fortunate as to have more outstanding abilities. "Like pets."

Sabretooth has posed:
In a way, the safehouse highlights many of the things that Sabretooth always found most attractive about Mystique. The secrecy. The palpable danger. Touches of elegance in the midst of heavy duty military hardware. More than any of that though, he was always most attracted to her passion, even if it's for a cause that he still thinks is slightly idealistic nearly a hundred years later.

"Any mutants that get themselves got probably deserve it. But you already know I don't give two shits about the plight of the less fortunate, which is why you remembered my favorite beer."

Depite his obvious suspicions regarding her attempts at niceness, it doesn't stop him from drinking greedily, and getting flecks of foam all over his fur-covered face. "I don't think you expect me to believe that YOU give two shits about the plight of the less fortunate, neither. Which leaves me all manner o' curious to know exactly what angle it is you're workin' on behalf of these poor misfortunates what got themselves got down in Mexico."

Mystique has posed:
    "That, dear Victor, is why I've always held a respect for you. The ability to carve your prey to pieces, and have yet the cunning to see the machinations behind the works in the next moment." She doesn't even bother to look affronted that she has another scheme in the works. "There are many benefits. Potential recruits to the Brotherhood, and further boosting of morale in Genosha when those saved are brought forth from the wreckage by the likes of us," she begins, taking one of the beers for herself.
    Smoothly, elegantly, one leg crosses over the other as she leans back into the crushed, worn velvet of the chair. "We will, additionally, get our hands on several mutant collars. Let me pose to you a question, Victor." Her eyes narrow, and her smile takes on a predatorial, sharp, nature. One Victor knows all too well. Mystique has something quite sinister up her sleeve. "If the mutant collars can -repress- and -negate- our powers," she muses, "Does it not stand to reason that within their workings, one can perhaps, -enhance-, -boost- a mutant's powers beyond their own natural potential?" If there are repurcussions, dangers, Mystique does not seem concerned with these. And Creed, knowing Mystique well, would also know she has no intent of trying such things on herself. At least, not at first. Not without ample testing from willing volunteers.
    "Besides. After we leave, the Friends of Humanity will be accused of the very general, General Jesus Ramirez, who will be helping us free the mutants."
    Another sip of beer, "Shortly after, mutants arrested will be -more- of a threat, than before they were contained. Especially after it is found that the patent within the US Patent Office are found to be, in fact, just that. And it's creator also tied to the Friends of Humanity. A nefarious conspiracy plot. It will be the end of the collars, entirely."

Sabretooth has posed:
"Eh... I don't know. I've always thought that 'mutant enhancement' was just something for the ones that are havin' a little trouble with performance. Every hooker from here to Madripoor knows that Sabretooth don't need no help in that department."

Sabretooth finishes off his beer, way too fast, and wipes his mouth on his enormous, hair-covered arm. It's probably not the first time he's wiped his mouth on his arm today, or even the fifth...

Chuckling slightly at his own joke, and doing his best attempt at being affable, Sabretooth sets down his mug and looks at some of the velvety furniture out of the corner of his eye.

"I know that I SAID I was curious about the angle you're workin', but you're gonna hafta forgive me for not payin' much attention to the whole middle part. I don't actually care what kind of games you're gonna be playin', I just always think it's hot when you explain your evil plans to me."

Surely she already knows this. After all, he goes off-script during Mystique's elaborate plans about... fifty percent of the time. But even though he usually gets the details and specifics wrong, at least he can usually be counted on to show up. Which is probably more than can be said about most of the people that Mystique has known for the past few decades.

Mystique has posed:
    Mystique smiles, just a little, at Creed's crude attempt at being humorous. Instead, she affords, "And I always thought it was exceptionally," and here she sucks in a slow, steady breath, "Delicious, watching you work as well, Victor. That is why we get along so well." Their history, of course, the fact that both of them have seen others they grew up with grow old and die while they continue another point. Each of them have so few -fixed- points like each other (or Logan) in their sights.
    "The end result, however, is all that matters. Once the hand behind the collars is exposed and seen by the masses as having ulterior motives than simply keeping the public safe? Mmm. Well. It will be interesting."
    Mystique murmurs, "Speaking to which, I will be utiliizing Clarice's unique abilities. I doubt, very much, that Kurt would engage into willingly replacing something within the U.S. Patent Office." She holds up a hand, "It is a low threat operation. I'm not taking her into a fight. But the girl has a yearn to contribute. And she has skills we can use in such operations."

Sabretooth has posed:
For a moment, it looked like Sabretooth's primitive mind was heading in a more amorous direction. He enjoys being a bad guy, after all, and Mystique has always had a way of making the missions she assigns him pretty enjoyable. But the mention of the closest thing he's got to a daughter is enough to put him in an entirely different headspace altogether, one that causes the thick hairs on the back of his neck to visibly bristle.

It's especially obvious, now that he doesn't have a long mane to cover up his neck anymore...

"Oh you'll be 'utilizin her, huh? You musta forgotten what I did to the last bunch of slobs who tried to 'utilize' her..." The words just start coming out, an almost completely involuntary response to whatever threat that he perceives from Mystique's casual statement. She's probably well aware how he responds to threats, so perhaps she can take some comfort in the fact that he's talking at all, instead of lunging with his claws extended.

It takes him just a second, but his eyes clear pretty quickly, and he seems to realize that he's behaving a bit... unproportional? "I uh... just mean that I ain't keen on her goin' on missions without me. I don't trust nobody else to watch her back, even if she does a pretty fair job of takin' care of herself."

Mystique has posed:
    Victor could certainly shred Mystique to bits. She's good. But, he's faster. She's damn adapt at hand-to-hand combat. And she has weapons, near. But they're lined on the walls. And she's sitting down. And he has claws. She knows all this. Yet, if she's concerned for her safety, she shows a world-class poker face. "I am telling this out of respect for you, Victor. I've little desire to go behind your back. Or, to earn your ire by working behind your back with a girl you've clearly taken an interest in, for your own reasons." And, Mystique doesn't pry into those reasons. She may already know them, or may know Victor well enough to not pry at all. Especially when his hackles have been slightly raised.
    "I will need to get in and replace the original patent with an altered version, with no one being the wiser it was ever done. You are the best hunter in the world, Victor. And one of the most brutal fighters. But this mission requires a measure of stealth and infiltration which you would provide a higher risk towards. I will ensure nothing happens to her."
    She adds, with a measure of rare sincerity, "Besides, Victor. You cannot always be there for her."

Sabretooth has posed:
To the outside observer, Sabretooth's relationship with Blink would probably look a little bit sketchy even if they didn't know about his reputation. Mystique doesn't rely on his reputation or hearsay to form her impressions of the man though, as she's known the actual man behind the rumors for longer than most people have been alive. So she's probably got even more reason to be suspicious of his motives than anyone else. Still, if he's got any motivation other than parental concern, he's done a pretty good job of hiding it.

And Sabretooth isn't exactly known for his acting abilities.

"No, I get that. It makes sense, and she's a tough girl. But I think you're underestimatin' just how sneaky I can be when I've got a mind to. Maybe you should ask Blink just how many men she's seen me kill these past few years. I think you'll find the number is pretty damn near close to zero."

He pauses, thinking for just a second. "Not countin' the war, obviously."

Mystique has posed:
    Mystique listens, and her poker-face remains. Listening, raptly, but unaffected, unsurprised and not showing the least bit of change when Sabretooth boasts just how well he's hidden his murdering people from Blink. "Then, if you're available," Mystique relents some, "You can be near, on the comms, and guiding her. In case things go south. They won't. But." She shrugs, mildly, silently giving Sabretooth a look that suggests he knows her too well. Mystique /always/ has backup plans. Usually more than one. She just doesn't share them with people.
    "Mmm. And, I must say. Neena? It's nice to know you still have the occasional surprise up your sleeve, Victor. She'll be coming along with us, also." Slowly, the blue mutant rises, uncoiling herself from her seated position. "Shaw is up to something as well. He's attempting to cause a war between the land, and the sea. I'm uncertain what he hopes to get out of it. Keep your ears open."

Sabretooth has posed:
"Neena? Is that the girl with the squid arms that works for Stacy X?" Like the Grinch when faced with a question he wasn't expecting, he thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick. The answer comes so quickly that it almost seems like a natural response. Perhaps his acting skills are as underestimated as his restraint? "Can't imagine why you're plannin' to bring a hooker on a mission like this, but now I'm definitely plannin' to be there."

Sabretooth remains pretty mum when the conversation starts leaning in a Sebastian Shaw direction. Of course, it's not like the two of them have anything in common, or any reason to ever interact, right? "I've gotta admit, I'm a little disappointed. Here I thought you'd invited me over to try and seduce me, but you're just talkin' about other men. I must really be gettin' old or somethin'."

Mystique has posed:
    "I see other men all the time, Victor. And everytime, I get disappointed," Mystique jests back, wryly. Still, while she doesn't press further the issue of Domino, it's quite clear Mystique already knows that piece of the puzzle. She remarks, "It is most likely that I'll be giving Shaw a bit of - aid in this endeavor. It remains to be seen. But we are creatures who excel in riding on the heels of chaos. And, if half of what Shaw told me is true, there will be much. Consider it merely advice, given how well we know each other."
    She pulls a large duffel bag down from the top of the shelf. And, she begins to gather her guns up, one by one. She's let Victor into the safehouse. So now? Now it's burned. And she likely won't ever be coming back to it again.
    "I'll look forward to Mexico. It's been far too long since we worked together." Momentarily, Mystique looks over Sabretooth as if remembering, or perhaps reliving those moments in which they both fooled themselves they might've been in love. Or shared a bed. But then the present slips into her expression; the sentiment is no less genuine, but the look is gone.
    "You never could lie well," she states with a soft exhale of her breath. She almost sounds darkly amused. "Meet us in Mexico, Victor. Until then, don't have too much fun."