ArchivedLogs:Divide and Conquer

Divide and Conquer
Dramatis Personae Dusk, Ion, Kay, Rasputin, Regan, J.C.	2014-03-12 with cupcakes
Location <BOM> Council Room - Main Lodge - Ascension Island
Perhaps surprisingly, this place doesn't look half as sinister as its name suggests; it's a large room with a single long steel table -- at which over two dozen seats are arranged, with one seat at each of the table's ends. There's a high-end projector on the ceiling, designed to produce light in any direction -- or all directions -- at once, allowing any surface in the room to be highlighted for the purpose of presentations. There's also stainless steel pitchers placed intermittently along the table, kept filled with brisk, cool ice-water. Some enterprising nerd has folded several pieces of paper into name plaques and written on them in Sharpie. This leaves a seat reserved for 'GORILLA GRODD', 'SINESTRO', 'POISON IVY', and 'BRAINIAC'. But not 'LEX LUTHOR'. Because that punk? Is just a fucking /human/. The chair at one end of the table is never taken; /that/ one's reserved for Magneto. There's already a small trickle of people gathering in the council room when Regan slips into their midst, quiet except for the soft swish of her skirt behind her. The long cream skirt is paired with a slouchy dark-blue sweater and boots whose steel-toe-sturdiness contrasts with the femininity of the rest of her attire. She's carrying a large mug of coffee in one hand, hair tied back in a loose French braid. She takes a seat down to the right of the permanently-empty chair at the end of the table, setting her mug of coffee down as her eyes skip out over the gathering group. Dusk is one of those already-gathered, settled somewhere in the middle of the large table, his chair turned backwards so that his wings have room to drape behind him. Dressed casual in jeans, black hoodie over a green t-shirt, Vans sneakers, he's kind of /kneeling/ in his seat, hands very /animated/ in current conversation with J.C., though their current topic of conversation seems to be nothing more sinister than the large assortment of /sweets/ Dusk has brought with him. A pair of Happy Cakes boxes with various pastries sits in the middle of the table. Because no plotting is complete without snacks. In not far from Dusk, Kay sits leaning back in his chair with calf-boots up on the table top to show off the turf-munching style of deep treads on the bottom. In usual array of torn-off sleeves, singed kutte, fingerless gloves, black bandana binding his bicep, his hands are occupied at the moment with what might /nominally/ be referred to as knitting. Except without much rhyme or reason or structured counting system, so that he's making some sort of bent and uneven... knitsrocity in reds and oranges and gray-black. At the moment, however, he's paused, gripping one of the needles in his teeth to pound a hand on the table to get J.C.'s attention and makes a NEEDFUL 'want' sign, brows frowning seriously, with his eyes latched onto Happy Cakes box. POINT. Ion definitely didn't arrive early. Punctuality, never exactly his strong point. But he's arriving /now/, thumpy large boots heralding his arrival rather noticeably; aside from large shitkicker boots he's in baggy jeans, plain white t-shirt, black leather jacket. Checking the TIME as he arrives on his shiny-shiny watch. "Hoshit {someone came /prepared/. Was that you, bloodsucker?}" His mood, never far from GLEEFUL, has perked a few notches higher at the sight of food; he dips a hand into the box to snag whatever he comes /out/ with first as he drops into a seat opposite Kay. Clearly un-picky when it comes to food, he examines his pastry selection only /after/ grabbing it; a very chocolatey-looking muffin. Rasputin is also already inside, seated a seat or two away from Dusk and Kay and Ion. Ze is sniffing the sweets, before eying the room, unusually quiet. This ends rather quickly. "Oh man, what's in there, it smells /delicious/. Anything not chocolately I can't eat chocolate." This comes with one of Rasputin's usual kitty-grins, as hir tail sways in the seat. "Please tell me there is something vaguely croissant-like in there." Regan is eying the boxes very hopefully, as she settles in and lifts her coffee for a sip. For a short while she is content to wait and watch the others gathering. And caffeinate herself. Eventually, though, she sets her mug back down, gestures someone at the end of the table to close the door, less for /privacy/ here in their own private island and more because someone in the common room outside is playing Call of Duty with very loud intermittent gunfire and explosions. She sits up a little bit straighter once the door is closed, but rather than begin the meeting herself she just tips her hand outwards to Dusk, brows raising. "Dusk?" "Are croissants croissant-like enough?" Dusk grabs a napkin to filch one out of the box, handing it -- well it's sort of a /trip/ down the table to Regan; he passes it off to Ion to hand around the other side of the table. "There's plenty that's not chocolate. Have a -- gingersnap." He digs a cookie out of the box closer to J.C., too, more sweets than breakfast pastries, sliding it down over to Rasputin, though with this cookie-theft he drops a light peck on J.C.'s cheek. J.C. glances up at the thumping, sharp teeth flashing in quick grin to Kay. Her arm curls protectively around the box. 'Are you going to pay my toll?' After signing this her forefinger taps INDICATIVELY at her cheek, leaning in closer to Kay. "S'pretty much a win-win." Dusk slips out of the chair, pushing it back into the table so that he can lean against its back, wings rolling behind him before settling in lazy-droop at his back. "Oh, right, /meeting/." His hand scruffs through his dark hair when he is called upon, and he straightens so that he can sign /as/ he talks, interpreting his own words for J.C. "So, it's the twelfth. In two days the deadline's up for people around here to register, though if you look at all the fucking /flailing/ they're doing it's clear a whole shitton of people haven't yet. At any rate, though, deadline-time seems like a pretty great time to stir up some trouble for them. I've got a list of all the places around the city registration happens. Think we definitely want to stay away from /hospitals/ and the like, but the Mutant Affairs offices, police stations, that kind of shit --" One of his wings rolls up in a shrug. "There's probably going to be a rush in the last day as people try to skate in under the wire. It'll kind of jam up the works a whole lot if there's a crapton /fewer/ buildings around for people to even register in." J.C.'s cheek gets WEIRDkissed, Kay leaning over and 'umph' - just mashes his nose and mouth in against the side of her FACE, nosing around against her cheek like an aggressive eskimo kiss while making a 'mmmmmmmm' vibratey hum that finally ends with 'mmmmMWAH!' And then leans back and chomps his teeth and opens his mouth wide like a birdie. Reward now plz. For all of this, his eyes are actually rolled in Dusk's direction, listening with open, lively-eyed attention, "Be a pretty solid fucking discouragement to a lot of people on the fence about registering, too." Said while /still/ leaning sideways for foods. It gets easier to balance when he turns his legs to set them across Ion's lap. Ion takes a huge solid chomp out of his muffin, rocking back in his chair. /He's/ just starting to stretch out a leg to thunk it into /Kay's/ lap when his own lap gets preemptively commandeered. /Foiled/ this round, he thumps his boots back down to the ground, dropping a hand to drum it on the hard toe of Kay's boots in quick absent rhythm along with some unheard melody in his head. "Man just give me addresses. He and I," his head is jerking across the table to Kay, "we'll light this party /up/, no?" As the gingersnap slides, Rasputin is chomping it up quickly, though this doesn't prevent hir from commenting. "How do we plan on doing this? Will we do it at night to prevent the deaths of our own? I mean, I don't care about some government agents but I don't think anyone wants to injure or murderfy any registerees." Regan tears the end off her croissant, munching on it as Dusk speaks. "There are /many/ addresses, you'll likely have your /pick/," she tells Ion with a very small smile. "We'll be breaking people up into teams. Some of the offices won't require much /work/ to gain access to. Stand-alone places you really don't even need to get /inside/ to take down properly. Some of the Mutant Affairs offices in particular though are located /in/ very large office buildings and will take some effort. Dusk has a contact who can get you inside. We're also going to need one team in particular to /accompany/ Dusk; there's some digital information he needs from the main office downtown, so nobody torch it until you've seen him in and out safely." She inclines her head towards Rasputin in agreement. "We'll be working after-hours. We're taking down their infrastructure, here, not setting up for a slaughter of people who may well be our own." J.C.'s face lights up in a grin at this ridicu-kissing, a low throaty chuckle half-barked out of her. She digs a lemon-raspberry cupcake out of the box, unwrapping it and then depositing it in Kay's open mouth. She settles back in her own seat after this, turning to look up at Dusk rather than at anyone else around the table. It takes a while for Dusk to speak again; rather focused on interpreting everyone /else's/ words for J.C. as well, there's a considerably delay before he finishes signing the /rest/ of the conversation and can move on to adding to it himself. "It's going to be a little harder, after, um, the disturbances they've had this past week there's likely to be added security downtown. It's hard to /fight/ and compute at the same time so I -- probably will need someone watching my back." He pauses, here, to take a sip of his own coffee and flex his fingers to give them a brief rest before continuing: "-- The guy I know who can get us /in/ is a cop, so everyone should keep that in mind if it's really going to bother you when deciding where to hit. He's one of us, though, and helped out in Harlem keeping the cops off our backs and getting everyone out safe. Also helped back in that fight ring shit last year." "We don't need no water," Kay says in agreement with Ion - he isn't entirely singing it, but there's a staccato measurement between the syllables and his brows are all scrunched with head waving back and forth up like he's /crooning/ it to Regan. Without seeming to really notice, he nods moving with Ion's tapping, using his knitting needles to tap a might lighter syncopated catch-up beat. "You need'a contained destruction inside, 'm your guy," his cheek is also pouched out with a bite of cupcake, chewing like a cud while turning eyes to Dusk, "I can keep a burn down t'one room. And hold off a tank - we gonna try to hit all the places in one night? Security'd only get worse if we give them time b'tween to scramble." Ion's head is bobbing lightly along with Kay's cadence, fingers still rat-tat-tatting a beat out against the pyrokinetic's boots. "Just put me somewhere that needs to fry up good," he says with a snort. "That's /not/ with you, Darkwing, hermano, lo siento." His other hand waves Muffin in Kay's direction. "Me, I don't handle /contained/ so well, yeah? I start something the whole building is going to /smoke/. Plus I think," he adds with an unapologetic grin, "I'd be murder on your geek-work too no? But I'll go out anywhere you don't need no /finesse/." "I'm not the most..explosive of mutants I tend to grab intel and distract people. Guess I could do a bit of the latter for an in or something.". Rasputin is starting to pay attention over to the Wonder Du- er, Ion and Kay's rythming. "He may be one of us but are we /positive/ he won't bust us? I think to some people burning down registration buildings might be morally different than saving some people in a church from a freaking military assault or saving people from corrupt cops." "Tomorrow night," Regan agrees. "Getting to as many places as possible at once will be somewhat of a --" She waves a morsel of croissant, fingers indicating the room at large before she pops it into her mouth. "Team effort." Her brows raise at Rasputin's question, croissant washed down with a swallow of coffee. "Do you think I would send you all out with him without being sure? Nobody is obligated to work with the cop, though. He won't be meeting anyone outside of Dusk's team." "Not with me," Dusk's agreement with Ion comes with a sharp-toothed grin, head giving one small shake. "I don't think the machines would last long enough for me to get what I need. -- It was him being pissed the fuck off at this registration bullshit that gave us an in in the first place," he adds to Rasputin. "We're not gonna be inviting him into the /clubhouse/ or anything just yet but for this one job he's solid." He squeezes J.C. on the shoulder and moves away from his chair, down to the end of the table where a laptop is hooked up to the projector. Unclipping a tiny USB key from the keychain hanging from a belt loop, he opens the laptop up to pull up a list of locations. "Alright, Mama." His chin tips to Regan in indication. "Let's, uh. Divide and conquer."