Owner	Pose
Megatron	Laszlo's up on 19th in Brooklyn doesn't have a good reputation. There've been ordinances aimed at shutting it down, city council meetings talking about changing legislation so the place has to get cleared annually, and at times it draws more than its fair share of attention from the police.     But they never catch them.     Supposedly there's blood sport there, cage matches, tough man competitions. Supposedly a good chunk of the drug trade passes through its doors. There's even been rumours of men and women disappearing from the place. But never is anything found. Most don't know that it's because Laszlo, the owner of the place, he gets feelings about things. Feelings ahead of time. Magical? Nah. Maybe a bit of that mutant gene, but nobody knows for sure.     Except for Mystique. She never pays for her drinks in Laszlo's, she knows that the man has a gift for 'knowing things' and they each make use of the other's expertise from time to time. It's a good connection, and somehow when she comes in he often is able to pick up on who she might be. Sometimes.     Tonight though, things are rowdy. No cage fight, not tonight even though it's a Saturday. The chickenwire's been torn apart and a ton of broken bottles are still in the arena, nobody wanting to clean it up yet. But there's a live band playing a rough take on jazzy country. Occasionally there's a clack of pool cues and the clink of bottles. Add some saw dust to the ground and you have a decent visceral feeling for the place.
Mystique	Mystique is sitting by the bar, bottle of beer in her hand as she watches around the area. She doesn't seem worried about the crowd that's in the bar right now, but that doesn't mean they don't deserve having an eye kept on them. As she takes a sip of her beer, she looks at someone walk by but she takes a deep breath and lets it go. She is sort of missing the blood sport, but perhaps that's for the best, as she'd probably want to join. Nobody seems to mind that the blue bitch is here, or perhaps they know better than to reveal that she uses this place to blow off some steam.
Megatron	She's not the only mutant in the place, considering how close it is to Mutant Town. But they're definitely the minority. Nobody seems to pay much nevermind. The last guy to give Mystique a hard time got fed his own teeth when he made a wry comment about the tiny skull on her belt buckle. After that, nada.     Around her at the bar people are yammering, chatting about the Giants and the coming season. The tv beams images above, muted but the closed captioning giving some insight into what's being said.     A quiet night all told.     The phone rings, and the bartender picks up on his way back to pass a quartet of bottles to a group of customers. He catches the receiver in the crook of his neck as he says casually, "Laszlo's, what?"     The tender seems uninterested in what's being said, but then his eyebrows raise. He looks down the way, espies Mystique, and then says, "Hey, Raven, some guy says he wants to talk to you." He stops, "Who's callin'?"     There's a beat, then he adds. "Norton something."
Mystique	Mystique takes a drink of her beer and then looks at Laszlo, raising a single eyebrow. "Who the hell knows I'm here?" She turns to the crowd and says, "Who told someone I was here!" She stands up slowly, looking around the room before holding out a single hand for the phone.
Megatron	When she has the phone in her hand there's a voice on the other line, cultured, melodic, British. Almost in some ways sounds like Charles but definitely somewhat older and even, curiously enough, more refined.     "Raven Darkholme?" He begins, asking her her name. "Forgive this intrusion, you are a difficult individual to reach."
Mystique	Mystique speaks into the phone, "That's intentional, and you'd better start speaking fast, you're interfering with my beer drinking time." With that she takes a long drag of her beer before putting the bottle down.
Megatron	There's a faint rumble of vibration from the cellphone at her hip, a low whirr that signals she's getting a message or a call. But the voice on the other end of the hard line tells her in that level controlled tone, "I have sent a data file to your cellular telephone. Within the contents of that file you will find schematics for the Sentinel Nullifier emitter, as well as four pages of research notes regarding the best practices in the use of that item."     There's a pause as he perhaps waits for her to check the phone or the contents, but after the space of several heartbeats he continues. "I would have you take that informaton and disseminate it to those that are choosing to oppose the Sentinels and what they represent."
Mystique	Mystique takes out her cell phone and looks at it, flipping through the pictures for a moment. She starts with skepticism at the first few photos but then her eyes turn serious as she realizes what is there. "How did you get these? Who the hell is this...."
Megatron	"My name is Norton Agamemnon." The voice is steady and a touch lilting as he adds, "I am strongly against the sentiment that the Sentinels represent. It is the least I can do from my current position. I understand your skepticism, and take what time you need to verify the legitimacy of the file. But do so quickly."     There's a faint hiss and an electronic squeal on the line, then the voice resumes.     Of course that's the moment when one of the drinkers at the bar slides off his stool and twists around to the side, almost running into Mystique clumsily, but looking like he doesn't care at all about that possible collision.
Mystique	Mystique looks at the phone in her hand again, "The Sentinels are an abomination on our society, that much I can agree with. I don't know you though, so if this information isn't legit, I will find you and I will make sure that you are never heard from again." She hands the phone back to Laszlo as the man almost runs into her. She's angry enough at being found so she kicks out the knee of the man, "Watch it!"
Megatron	The man's knee makes a short sharp /crack/ and he howls at the abrupt world of pain that Mysique unleashed on him. He struggles to keep himself up, stumbling forwards onto another table and knocking over the beer of the other man there...     Moments later a brawl breaks out that might well at least keep Mystique from being bored for a few minutes.     For Norton, his attention shifts elsewhere.