ArchivedLogs:Blinis on the High Seas

Blinis on the High Seas
Brandy? Nah.
Dramatis Personae Kisha, Faelan
In Absentia	2019-12-28 Part of Future Past TP Visiting occurs, and booze and guns come back
Location High Seas (I'm on a Boat!)
It all started with a simple exchange of emails filled with code phrases, next came a video feed of a quiet street with a webcam and some graffiti containing yet another code before a final video feed of a rusty look fishing boat somewhere at sea was received. It's upon this boat that Kisha waits, arms crossed in front of her chest and resplendent in dull grey armour styled upon the Doom suit with a few concessions to the occupants modest curves. A cowl and cape of carmine silk swirl in the sea breeze, but aside from this and the creak of rope the ship is motionless. While strapped across her back is an immense sword made from the same dull grey material. It takes a few moments longer than expected, but appearing a few paces from the center of the feed, a dark haired man in an xmen uniform with a heavy looking backpack and a shoulder strapped rifle appears. Faelan...seems a tad bit damp, and he is shaking off a smartphone in a life proof case as he mutters a few imprecations about the mother of the ocean. None the less he is there and after running a hand through his hair to straighten the dark strands, he inclines his head to Kisha. "Missed the first time. I really wish people would at least let me know Where the damn feeds are first so I don't under shoot." He smiles though as he moves at least into sword range of Dark Lord Kisha and stops and slides the once more powered down smartphone into a protective belt pouch. "You look alive. I presume well? Or at least better," he gestures at the last part to include the swirling cape. "Well you know what they say about red being the colour of the revolution," Kisha replies dryly, without a hint of motion in the armour which makes up her face. "And I've learnt that there is a certain value to be had in showmanship. But yes, I'm alive at least and have the resources to ensure I remain so for the time being. You've been rather busy from what I've heard, I trust you made it through unharmed?" Then she chuckles. "I rather like the additional security vague coordinates provide. If you had brought unwelcome guests it would have unbalanced them long enough for my precautions to activate. Would you care for some tea? Or perhaps a brandy and a cigar would be preferable?" Nodding, Faelan smiles at the showmanship thing and shakes his head a bit. "Good to hear. Staying alive seems to be the primary occupation of most of us sticking around." He makes a face at the being busy part. "Yeah, I'm unhurt. They like to target the fliers a lot it seems. Or anyone who is a tad more offensive. It's harder to shoot what you can't see after all, at least for now." He snerks at the unwelcome guests part. "How many people even know you're still alive to want to be unwelcome. Besides, forcing me into being their courier for it would just end up with the lot of them scattered across the face of the earth." Thinking a moment, he nods. "Tea for now, I've never really developed a taste for cigars or brandy. I tried to do the vodka martini thing, but it's pretty damn vile stuff there." Kisha nods and then a pair of spindly robots with oddly Kisha-like faces appear from within the cabin. In short order they have a table, chairs (one of which is rather sturdy) and a samovarr complete with cups and even little plates with a selection of blini with toppings. "I do hope you won't be offended if I don't eat myself. I need to take certain precautions before I remove even a section of my suit," she holds her hand out and makes a show of counting her fingers. "Several people. I believe Ghost has had time to make those living under New York aware of my good health. I've also got a few connections and complications from the last few years dotted around the globe. With online learning and a boat it's amazing the travelling you can do while at college." "Understandable, though should I ask whether or not any of this has been poisoned first?" Faelan grins as he pours himself a cup of tea and stirs some sugar in. "Is that a good thing or not that Ghost has done so? Still I think America will be less pleasant soon, now that they've seen that people are still willing to take the risk to bust in to make rescues. Not that I particularly /Want/ to do that again, got a bit skin of the teeth there at the end." He learns back in the chair, balancing the tea cup on a leg. "The open seas does sound pretty nice though. Solar panels? Or more exotic power sources to handle desalination and the satellite connections?” "Oh don't be so obvious. We both know if I was going to use poison I'd just fill the air with an inhalation toxin rather than going through the trouble of getting caviar out to my ship," Kisha notes with amusement. "Oh this piece of junk? It's got a few solar panels but it's mostly as blandly inoffensive as it appears. I had a much nicer ship for while I was travelling, but I had to sell her to raise funds. Medical expenses mostly." She shrugs. "I don't mind Ghost letting people know I am alive. Hopefully it will make it easier to discover the intentions of the various factions at play." "I know I know, but I did have to ask," Faelan replies with a nod. "Shame about the medical expenses. Have you gotten much external funding? Or still working with who was it.. Stark right? With some of the other students?" He sighs and tries some of the blini. "Not bad, my compliments to the robotic chefs." Looking out to sea, he relaxes some more, knowing that her paranoia was probably even stronger than his. "I had partially done the same with this old suit. They'll start looking for old ghosts now seeing X-men uniforms. Easier to point fingers at the dead after all." "Actually I only recently came under Starks employment. On the same occassion as I met Ghost in fact," Kisha admits, finally adjusting her sword and then settling down on the reinforced chair. "I was largely living on funds I had made from a somewhat unpopular sale. However I did spend a while working in Latveria before I 'broke contract'. I wouldn't recommend it for either business /or/ pleasure.." One of the robots does an awkward curtsey. "I will have them send you home with a packed lunch if you would like. But anyway I suppose I should get around to business. I was hoping you could put me in touch with the people behind the raid. I might be willing to aid their cause if it aligns with my goals. There will of course be a modest gift to show my good intentions. A few crates of military rations and some knock-off Kalashnikovs. I could also throw in a little net caught fish if food is an issue? The nets are not entirely for show after all." "Ah, alright. I had thought," Faelan cuts it short and shakes his head. "I imagine that most places with leadership like that would frown on breaking contract, at least as long as they think you survived it." He hrms and nods, "A packed lunch would be tasty, I could share it with some of the others." He drums his fingers against the tea cup as she proposes her alliance offer and seems to think it over. "I'll mention it to them. I don't think they would turn down any help that they can get, but well, I don't particularly know their future plans. The one who brought me in to help, well, he got fried by the new model sentinel. Big fireburst and gone." He shrugs and sips more tea. "But I don't think there should be any issues." "It's these new models which concern me," Kisha explains with a sigh. "I have so far been unable to replicate them. Which implies either they are advanced beyond compare or that they are either chemical or biological in nature. None of which are especially appealing thoughts. How bad were the casualty figures for the raid? Rumours vary wildly in how successful the whole thing was. I do hope you saved more people than you lost..." Frowning, Faelan looks to her with concern. "I don't know what you had already seen or heard of it, but... I think it might be alive." Finishing off the tea cup he sets it back down, trying to make himself remember the other night more clearly. "When it had attacked someone, streams of blood were flying into it. It was moving way faster than other sentinels, and it had been screaming too until it started eating." Letting out a sigh, he looks down at his hands. "We got out a Lot of people. A good number were injured as well. But it was hard to tell how many were fatalities. Maybe a dozen? I hope less, but I really didn't Want to know you know? I tried to keep my mind separated enough. Pull out the people we could at least." Kisha hmmms. "It was sucking up the blood? Or it bled when attacked?" she asks, topping up Faelans tea cup. "Rumours mostly. I don't have a dedicated intelligence network within the city. To me a dozen seems like acceptable loses if they were the less capable combatants and can be replaced from the people you freed. The main concern is if your friends can cope with all the mutants with no productive abilities or not. Still I always was rather callous." “Sucking up the blood of the one's it attacked. Like suctioning it in really creepy like," Faelan replies sucking noisily at his refilled cup. "And much of the losses came from the people coming in to the rescue in the first place. Fliers and fighters primarily. The older sentinels... weren't really lethal. Just were dropping people with the darts. But once that new one came, and it was just One. If there were more of them fielded," he shakes his head. "I would have just grabbed whoever was in reach and got the hell out of there." Shuddering he makes a face. "If we knew where the thing was held, if someone could get me a facetime on it I'd drop a truck full of thermite on the sucker." "Sucking up blood... collecting DNA samples perhaps? That kind of biotechnolgy would be a serious concern if it could make use of the samples within further iterations," Kisha muses, in full on science mode. "It's not the Sentinel you should be hunting, but rather the people who built it. Even an especially powerful Sentinel is simply a tool and you never know, take out the people in charge of the project and it might run amok. Which would be a PR disaster for the Government, if a little unfair on the people of New York." "Could be. You remember the stories from the other year though? The sentinel that had Magneto's powers? I think this might have been that model," Faelan seems to think but shakes his head. "But I mean, not that it used his powers. But ya know, big and powerful and fast and stuff." He thinks a bit but nods, deferring to further planning. "Possibly, but a bureaucracy is like a Hydra. Chop off one head, and another appears. Destroy technology that may or may not be replicable, and they could be out of it for years." Kisha hmmms. "Well, I suppose in an ideal world you do both. Get rid of the people behind it and the working versions," she suggests. "I will have to discuss matters with my current employer. Perhaps even see if B is active in the area. Have you had any news about more of our mutual friends?" "Ideally yeah. Creepy bastards though, I hope they all crash and burn," Faelan says with a bit of anger. "And not too many more. A few that I had been dropping off supplies too. Most mutants went sewer if they didn't end up in a camp." He shrugs abit and pops another blini in his mouth. "Ducky had been with the group taking the raid, but well she didn't take it too well. Horus was the one that got torched, and they'd always been close. But no, I hadn't kept up with many mutuals, not that there had been too many after the school was blown up." "I recall the event quite vividly," Kisha points out dryly. "I was in the neighborhood at the time. If not for that I would have been content to sit this war out. Continue my work elsewhere. But alas they have made it rather personal for me. I know it's petty but it seems I have a fondness for revenge. Perhaps you could bring Ducky the brandy? A stiff drink might help settle her nerves." The robot servants begin moving a few battered old plastic crates out and stacking them on the ships deck. "It's probably not enough food for an entire camp but the ration packs are good for people with high energy requirements. While the guns are so simple a child could use them. Although I rather hope things aren't /quite/ that desperate just yet." "They do have a way of making it personal," Faelan says with a sigh. "I'll bring her some, she may appreciate it more than tequila at least." Looking over the crates, he nods and moves to stand beside them. "They should be acceptable anyway. They're taking some time to recuperate before returning, or even really planning much else. Or at least any else I've been told of." Peeking between the slats he hrms. "I'll deliver your message with them, and help them get in contact if they're interested. Automatic weapons are probably better than pistols and rifles at least." He pulls out his phone again and starts to cycle through some screens. "Guess I ought to be getting these to them, since you seem to be on your way to somewhere." "Oh I'm always on my way somewhere. Several somewheres usually. It's a hard life trying to be omnipresent," Kisha jokes as the servants bring out the bottle of brandy, a box of good tea and a tupperware container filled with fancy nibbles. Last but not least is a tray filled with a mixture of ice and assorted fish. It doesn't seem like her robots are especially picky fishermen. "If rifles aren't working out for you then I suggest getting a bigger rifle. Try a Barrett M82." She nods a farewell, with each of the servants making the same gesture in unison. "And do try and take care, there are few enough of us left from our school days."