2159/Frenemies Forever

Frenemies Forever
Date of Scene:	24 August 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Mystique, Spiral

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Mystique has posed:
    Mystique had heard Spiral was in Madripoor. And, there were questions she wanted answers. And, knowing Mystique, possibly other things also. The woman had her fingers in far too many pies.
    It was not, however, a blue-skinned, yellow-eyed mutant who prowled the streets of Madripoor. Instead, it was Chesire. A highly trained woman, a murder-for-hire, that most people would leave well enough alone. Unless they had the money to solicit her interest. Few here would. Most, who know who the femme fatale is - or - seems to be - keep well away from her. She smokes a cigarette, casually, leaning against a building. Waiting. Watching.
    Waiting for the woman she'd known, previously. That she'd work with. And, even fought against. This would be interesting.

Spiral has posed:
"Yeah, didn't do a think to stop me." Says the silver haired, golden eyed assassin mage. That's not a mouthful.

Spiral has a phone up to her ear and is talking to some unknown person on the other side of the line. Though it seems her conversation has run it's course because as she's laughing the woman swings her arm low and in a wide arch until she underhand snaps the phone into the wall to her side.

"No idea who that was." Says Spiral as she continues to saunter down the sidewalk, her many arms on display and swaying in her sashay.

Mystique has posed:
    "Spiral," calls the woman who looks, sounds, and for every bit of analysis scientific, will be proven as Chesire. She waits, until the lady of-the-many-arms looks her way. There is a cool confidence to Chesire. Almost a primal sort of ferocity about herself in that casual manner that has her moving off the building, discarding the cigarette, and looking into Spiral's eyes.
    "First Paris. Now Madripoor. You're a busy woman."

Spiral has posed:
"Hey-- You?" Spiral says turning her head towards the woman calling her name and a single silver eyebrow lifts up high on her forehead, "You... I don't know your name." The witch says with a smirk before it fades quickly.

"H-How did you know about all that?!" Spiral asks, knowing she was in view of the whole of the Mojoverse, but she also knows that's not broadcast on Earth anywhere. Unless Mojo wanted to be a huge a-hole that week...

Mystique has posed:
    "Come inside. We'll talk. I don't think either of us want our business out in the open," Chesire states, smoothly. Then, she opens the door that's a few feet away from where she'd been standing. It's a small dive, but, by the sound of it, the bar's been cleared out. It's empty, and oddly quiet inside. The woman turns, brushes her dark hair back. "Raven's waiting for you," she says, hinting at her true nature.
    Afterall, Madripoor isn't exactly - nice - to mutants like Mystique who aren't 'normal' looking. And, Mystique rarely likes her business to be known, anyways.
    She passes through the door, and, she moves to a table and pours herself a drink. She pours another for Spiral.

Spiral has posed:
Spiral steps in, her head on a swivel as she steps into the bar, looking left, right and even above herself. "Raven? That's a familiar sounding name." The witch notes aloud to herself. Not really a conversation starter, but she's also a bit insane after all that she's been through.

"What does she want from me? Oh, wait is this about the Paris trip? Cause that was just a business vay cay. Totally needed it!" The woman says, taking a spot on a barstool and lifting the drink with a right hand and playing with the liquid inside, getting it close to the lip and spinning it around.

Mystique has posed:
    Chesire's features ... dissapate. As if her face weren't melting, perse, but, erasing. Erasing, and being replaced with dark blue skin. Solid, yellow eyes. Red hair. The outfit, too, gone. Replaced with a rather slinky white top, a matching loincloth, boots, and white-skull belt.
    "You know," mentions Raven, quietly, moving to sit down, "It's been a -very- long time since we talked."

Spiral has posed:
One of Spiral's left hands comes up and smacks her own forehead, "RAVEN! It has been /way/ too long since we met..." She trails off and appearing in one of her left hands, is a broad sword, the tip gleaming in the low light offered inside the bar as she lifts it to point at Mystiqe's throat. Almost a common courtesy, "Didn't you try to kill me last time we met?" Her eyes squinting and still almost glowing gold while eyeing the shapeshifter.

Mystique has posed:
    "Yes," says Raven, casually, as she crosses one leg over the other. "I did. We had a disagreement." The dark-blue skinned mutant woman of indeterminable age tilts her head, unmoved by Spiral's menacing blade. "Now, I'm offering you wine. Are you going to take it, and hear what I have to say?"
    For one a half-second away from death, Mystique is the epitome of calm. And, good manners.

Spiral has posed:
"What was the disagreement about?" Spiral asks idly as she not only lowers her sword, but the thing vanishes in the blink of an eye, scattered into the winds with as it turns into a whisp of smoke.

"Heck yeah I need a drink." Spiral responds affirmatively and sets the wine glass she was playing with down on the counter along with two of her elbows with hands proping her chin up, and the other four arms stretched out, savoing the coolness of the bartop. "What's on your mind Raven-girl?"

Mystique has posed:
    If Raven remembers what the disagreement was about, she does not answer Spiral's inquiry. She most likely remembers. And, she most likely doesn't deem it important any longer. That was then. This? Is now.
    "I understand you've killed Gambit." There's no menace in her voice, no approval, either. It's a fact she's heard through her grapevine of contacts, or, various personas she's assumed from keeping tabs on Rogue. "You don't kill without reason," she continues, quietly.
    And, now that the sword is not pressed to her neck, she lifts her crystal glass filled with a very lovely aged wine to her lips. Sips. "Did you have a fallout with Mojo, again?"

Spiral has posed:
Spiral opens her mouth to answer the inquiry about Gambit's death but the more important question follows it. "I... Yeah, a while back..." She says, remembering having a moment of mental clarity and raging at the diseased maniac. "I was thinking the show of an X-man free for all blood bath might make great TV and get me back into his graces again." She sighs softly, obviously a soul torn in two, if not more pieces.

Mystique has posed:
    "And now, most likely, Scott Summers and Jean Grey, along with the rest, are probably contriving some plot to find some measure of reconclilation in their deluded ways," Raven continues, in a practical, no-nonsense delivery of what she sees as inevitablities.
    She considers, thoughtfully. "Did it work?"
    A simple enough question. Mojo is like the wind. As long as his ratings are high, the inter-dimensional demon is quite happy.

Spiral has posed:
"I have not heard from the man up stairs since before the Paris vay cay." Funny she still thinks of it as time off.

"You think the X-men will retaliate? Hmmm. I'm not so sure. I mean, I totally surprised them, but damn one of those kids packs a HUGE punch. Blew up at me. I think she's dead though."

Spiral seems awfully uninterested and not in tune with how the X-men work. "Why are you so curious about me having a job?" Spiral asks Raven quizically.

Mystique has posed:
    "Because if you don't have a job, you're likely to do something further to earn his interest," suggests Mystique, a measure of insight laced into her words. She takes another sip of wine. "To, as they say, go to the next extreme."
    She pauses, before continuing, "So, you can then see my interest, yes? Cause," and she holds out one empty palm to her left, "And effect," and she holds out her right hand, empty palm up to the ceiling and open as the other.
    Her hands come down, one to her lap, the other the wine glass. If she's concerned with who the other dead person might be? She doesn't ask.

Spiral has posed:
"Ooooh. You think I'd come after you and your mutant weirdos?" Spiral asks, one hand moving to scratch at her back while a right hand reaches forwards to her wine glass and lifts it up to smell the contents, because she saw someone do that before, so she does it now.

"Uhh. I mean I wont, but y'know, if it makes good TV... I don't think you know how-" She chews on her bottom lip a moment, finding the words, "How intoxicating having his favor and powers blessed upon you is."

Mystique has posed:
    "No, I don't think you'd go after me, or my friends," conceeds Mystique, quietly. "For one, you're smarter than that. The X-Men? Most of them are too morally constricted to pull the final trigger. And you know there is a risk that Mojo would die, if he pulled in those I collaborate with." Like Magneto, or Sabretooth. "And, neither of us are interested in the other. We each have our own - goals. I merely want to make sure that my own designs aren't going to be impeded."
    Then, Mystique smiles, just a little bit, conspiratorially. "I have an idea," She conceeds. "It is likely akin to working with a man like Magnus, for you." A shared comadare, however brief, between the two women, then.

Spiral has posed:
"Nah, I wont go after you guys. You're the 'bad guys' so I hear from time to time. Not my words, someone else's." Spiral says teasingly and takes a sip finally from her wine glass.

"I can see how we both fill the bad ass sexy assistant roles, though each in our own unique ways." Spiral then winks to Raven. She then leans back slowly and using two arms, holds onto the bottom of the bar until her back or shoulders pop and she seethes in comfort. "So, you sought me out, any particular reason Raven, or did you just want to make sure I'm not /too/ crazy?"

Mystique has posed:
    Mystique again smiles, conspiratorially. "I want to make sure we don't have to try to kill each other again, Spiral. As much fun as it can be, I think we'd both rather be doing other things." Her tone, though, is light. She inclines her head. "I think, though, we have an understanding. I just wanted to affirm that. But," she measures, raising her hand to push the now-empty glass away from herself, "I would warn you. While the X-Men are indeed morally constricted? They don't generally go down, without a fight."
    She shrugs, indifferent, casual. "Perhaps that's what you're counting on."

Spiral has posed:
"That is in fact what I'm hoping for." The witch says with a devious smirk on her lips. "Thanks for the drinks Raven, lets catch up again soon Ms. Blue-sky and we'll see if we're fighting then or not too." The six armed woman says, finishing her drink and standing from the bar and sliding her glass forwards towards the barkeep.

"Don't expect a tip. I'm dirt poor and don't carry cash." She says with a wink and a tongue sticking out from her mouth as she moves towards the door.