Owner	Pose
Lex Luthor	It had only been a couple days since Lex had reached out about 'a new anomaly' of a probably magical nature, to Victor. Both men were busy with their respective leadership positions. Lex with the Peacekeepers, Victor with Latveria... but sometimes, things need to be put on hold to handle bigger priorities. Lex had framed it as 'a brief examination for long term evaluation of a potential ally', and invited Victor to Metropolis via the hidden LexCorp Tower wormhole station in the sublevels. Lex had taken great pains to be sure this was discreet, and had assigned only his utterly loyal Team Luthor security to handle keeping that secrecy. Cheetah had been 'requested' to stay in a room in the MetropLex smartsuites above while he handled the new arrival. Meanwhile, Lex was awaiting Doctor Doom at the relay down below. The main teleportation hub at the Nexus of the Light housed the huge complex that made the network possible... so the relays were simply conducting the energy in a stable manner from point A to point B... and today, Lex stood in his business suit just a few feet away from the exit port, hands behind his back. Mercy and Hope were both keeping an eye on the perimeter, making sure none of the half dozen Team Luthor troopers monitoring slacked off.
Doctor Doom	Doom had been busy running his country and making sure all was well-behaved and firmly under Doom's thumb. He was beloved by the people, so its not like this was a difficult task. Nonetheless, when he gets Lex's message, Doom happens to grunt beneath his mask. "I see no reason as to why not, especially if it benefits the Light...and eventually, Doom." Always with the third person, this guy. So, the teleportation hub gateway for Latveria suddenly lights up and activates, the particles being interchanged between Latveria and the Light's headquarters at the Nexus. Eventually, after being bathed in some kind of light, the particles realign and Doom now stands before Lex in all of his Kingly glory. Dressed in his armor as per the usual with his green cloak wreathed about him, leaving only his helmet's face and bits and pieces of his front being visible. He approaches Lex, who waits for him, and he speaks plainly in greeting. "Luthor."
Cheetah	Cheetah was ensconced comfortably in a lavish 'smartsuite' several floors above. The room met with her meticulous standards (i.e. it looked expensive) so she took to the place with only a perfunctory objection. The in-suite serving staff had been assigned elsewhere to preserve secrecy. Cheetah, therefore, had plundered the in-room bar of its more tasteful spirits some time ago. At present, she is enthroned on one of the stylish, space-age chairs that dot the main living area of the room. Lex had 'requested' she remain in her feline form for his expert to conduct a proper examination. This required slightly more convincing than Luthor or his trusty staff might have liked; however, after a suitable period of ostentatious difficulty, Cheetah did relent. She is idly filing her claws in the brilliant sunshine beaming through the room's many hi-rise windows, pausing now and again to examine her handy-work. A half-finished Cosmopolitan sits in a cocktail glass on a table within easy reach.
Lex Luthor	"Good afternoon, Doom." Lex replies, before he turns around and begins to walk to the elevator in the back of the sublevel, "Fair warning, the subject is... mercurial, at times. To call her volatile would not be put of place, but she has her pride and vanity. Appeal to either, and more likely than not she will reign herself in just to prove you right." A side glance to Doctor Doom, "Or wrong." Mercy had long since hit the elevator button after inputting the access keycard, so by the time the two are about to meet with her, Mercy and Hope are already waiting inside. "I've made sure to grant us a two hour time window for you to handle this. If we need more, I'd recommend taking the subject back to Latveria for long term examination. We need to know if this situation is stable, or if the subject can learn to control her new abilities." Lex offers in explanation as the elevator opens, and he heads for the SmartSuite Cheetah is at. Knock Knock.
Doctor Doom	Doom doesn't even nod to Lex when he's greeted. Then again, Doom has always been one of few words, at least until the task has come upon him. At that point, he will gladly proclaim his intellectual genius and superiority of knowledge with all the third-person mannerism we all know and love. "Seems within our tenure to look to personalities akin to our own for the cause." That seems to be Doom's only comment until they are just outside of Cheetah's door. "That time period will be sufficient. In the worst case, I will consider bringing an outsider to Latveria." But apparently he's not keen on the idea. He watches as Lex knocks on the door, and simply waits for the answer.
Cheetah	Ugh. Why does it suddenly smell like borscht and vodka on this floor? Hyper-acute senses are one of the many side-effects of Cheetah's new personal reality. Her hearing is extremely sensitive, too. For example, she had no difficulty hearing the respectful knock at her door. Odd, then, that she doesn't get up to receive her callers. Or even bother turning around. Cheetah places the nail file on the side table next to the cocktail glass, links her furry fingers together, and stretches. Several seconds go by. Eventually she reaches over to retrieve the Cosmopolitan. She sloshes the pinky goodness around in the glass. More seconds go by. She takes a sip and daintily smacks her lips together. Luthor always has the finest liquor. Finally, hoisting her glass skyward like a royal scepter, she declares in an exacting French accent, "Entrer!"
Lex Luthor	There's an ever so faint pursing of lips as Lex hears Cheetah, "She's already hit the hard stuff. That's a record." Lex muses, before he taps a passkey into the door keypad, and it opens. Right afterwards, Lex enters the SmartSuite. "I have an extensive array of medical scans if you need them... but I haven't seen anything relevant to this condition, myself." Lex continues as he gets within earshot and eyesight of Cheetah.
Doctor Doom	The door opens and Lex's observation is not one that is allowed to be missed. Following behind Lex as he comes inside, Doom narrows his eyes behind that mask of his. "Chances are it is the result of a spell or a mystic item." Doom makes an eerie assumption and logical guess. Radical physical change is usually caused by some kind of mystic tampering or some kind of genetic mutation akin to the X-gene that mutants possess. But alas, he can't make an official decision until he sees and examines her. Pity the confines of technology and magic alike. "They may be relevant." he confirms to Luthor when he offers medical scans. He looks around the large room, until he sets eyes on Cheetah...the patient in question. Well, this will be interesting.
Cheetah	Luthor isn't wrong: Cheetah has been imbibing for some time. Strangely, her focus is still crystalline. Come to think of it, has she managed to get smashed even once since returning from her fateful trip to Africa? It certainly wasn't for want of effort... Cheetah's eyes are closed when the two men enter. She clearly marks the familiar sound and scent of Lex's approach; Doom's, however, is new to her. His step is heavy and there is an odd quality to the sound of his breathing. Lex hasn't formally given Cheetah the identity of his so-called expert but Doom's name has come up once before. Could it be? The voices fire her curiosity but ego's unseen paw prevents her from taking a peek until the new arrivals are formally 'in her presence.' Her eyes open languidly and she purrs in a rather passive-aggressive tone, "Lex." Luthor's companion gets a cheerier, "Herr Doom, I presume." Clearly the woman has watched LNN (the Luthor News Network) on occasion. She replaces the cocktail glass and offers Doom her hand thus granting him the opportunity to plant a polite kiss near her wrist should he choose. How very European.
Lex Luthor	"I leave you to it. If you need the scans-" Lex gestures with one of his hands to Mercy, "-my assistant can handle retrieval." The hand is replaced behind his back, and Lex looks to Cheetah. "Doom." Lex confirms for Cheetah, "He has more... experience... with these matters. I'm far too busy with my business and technology to properly learn, but he should be able to properly handle this."
Doctor Doom	Doom's eyes remain on Cheetah as she greets him with a much more friendly tone than how she speaks with Luthor. But, well, difference between a King and a Businessman, perhaps. Nonetheless, he doesn't take her hand...because well, the mask. But taking Lex's advice, playing to her vanity would be wise, but only to an extent. He simply reaches to take her hand, angle it so her wrist is towards the lips of his helmet, but there's no warmth, not even the cold of steel. He releases her hand soon after. "You will understand." Doom gestures to the mask. He looks her over for a moment, not in an appraising way, but more like in the manner that would allow him to see the extent of her...condition. "Do you remember where you were and what you were doing when this happened to you?"
Cheetah	Cheetah is placated by Doom's excuse. It's a good one. In any event, it's the ritualistic performance that counts as far as she's concerned. Clearly, the good doctor is a man of refinement. Speaking of rituals: "Africa. Somewhere along the banks of the Zambesi river, I believe." She pauses and taps a finger on her chin in an exaggerated show of deep thought, "There was an idol -- a dreadful looking thing. I forget the name. Urzkartaga, perhaps? Also, there was quite a bit of wailing and teeth gnashing from the natives." Cheetah's speech gradually increases in tempo as though skipping over some boring prologue to get to the important bit. "How long before you can fix it?" A furry hand makes an unconcerned gesture outlining her feline appearance while the other raises the Cosmopolitan to her lips. Surely this can be sorted by brunch, no?
Lex Luthor	"She tends to gloss over important details, a lot... thinking they're irrelevant." Lex notes aloud.
Doctor Doom	Doom looks at Lex as he makes his comment. Giving him a small nod, his attention returning to Cheetah as she speaks. "Urzkartaga." Doom repeats the name. "If my knowledge is correct, that would be the African plant god, not known for his kindness and goodwill. He's bloodthirsty, or so the stories say." Since when was Doom well-versed in mythology? Probably when a hammer-throwing Thunder God descended from the sky proclaiming to be an Avenger. "Hnnh." Doom looks at Cheetah then. "To say you were a fool is a waste of time." and rude. "Its not so simple. A god's spell is difficult to unravel, especially if you are an incarnation of one: I believe his consort, or bride, is the Cheetah. I find it ironic that is the form you appear to have been morphed into." Doom ponders. "I have no doubts that I can solve this equation, for all magic is simply a formula. The challenge is finding the right variables."
Cheetah	The cocktail glass shoots away from Cheetah's lips to land back on the side-table with a resounding >THWACK<. It probably would have made for the nearest exit had a set of furry fingers not been wrapped around its throat. Barware is a lot smarter than most people credit. "Then. Start. Unravelling." Kryptonite green eyes glare imaginary holes into Doom's forehead. As with most of the statements that roll off of her tongue, this latest doesn't sound much like a request. Cheetah's hand releases the merciless chokehold on the stem of the cocktail glass and her demeanor shifts gears effortlessly. Now and again one is compelled to bring the 'help' to heel -- there's no sense in letting such unpleasantness ruin one's mood for the rest of the day. She examines her 'nails' and retrieves her file from the table. Looking up, she seems nonplussed to see two of the most powerful men on the planet just milling about. "You may go." She adds 'helpfully,' making shoo-ing motions with her fingers. Chop-chop. Let's get to it, then. Time's a wasting.
Doctor Doom	Doom doesn't even watch the glass leave her hands. Waste of perfectly good liquor, but he doesn't visibly react. When she starts making demands of him though, Doom narrows his eyes, them glowing a sinister purple color. "Do not rush Doom, peasant, Else you will be worse off than you already are." His eyes return to normal, though even when she dismisses him, Doom seems to be analyzing her physical features. "I would test what you are able to do. If you have the physical appearance of an anthropomorphized Cheetah, its possible the animal's physical characteristics, such as their speed, has also been inherited." He then turns to leave. He has much work to do...though since Cheetah has decided to mouth off a little bit, he might just take his time to ensure her suffering is exquisite.