[ QUOTE ]
"Ah... More figures to add to this grand game." The figure chuckled and raised his mug in a mockery of a toast.
"I bid you welcome, and am glad to see I am not alone. You may call me Andre Dumas, but you may know me as the Horned King."
Andre pulled the mug beneath the shrouds of his cloak and drank deeply.
"The coffee is quite good..."
[/ QUOTE ]
Mr. Book hardly battered an eye lid at the clocked figure.
"I'm sure it is." He said, waiting for the lady in their group to be seated before he himself sat down. "and may I ask Mr. Dumas just what game it is we have all been brought her to play?"
[ QUOTE ]
"I'm sure it is." He said, waiting for the lady in their group to be seated before he himself sat down. "and may I ask Mr. Dumas just what game it is we have all been brought her to play?"
[/ QUOTE ]
"Yes, Mr. Dumas." The voice rose from some smoke that was on the ground. Out of the smoke, the infamous Mr. Dark rose once more, his black trenchcoat flapping around slightly as he appeared in front of the group.
"I told you you'd hear from me again." Mr. Dark chuckled as he stood, resting both hands on his cane. "Why don't you inform everyone what this is about?"
Supplemental Galactic Protectorate Fanfic
Kirke couldn't help but think how whoever had planned this little meeting was either a genius or an idiot. A meeting between this many of these types of people were always either very profitable or an outright disaster.
Though one thing still puzzled him. Why was he here? He seemed to be the only villain present that had no special powers. He hadn't seen Dr. Book show any obvious powers, but the way the man carried himself seemed to suggest otherwise.
Any nervousness he felt though was well hidden. In his relativly short time as a villain, he had gotten used to dealing with people more powerful than him. Hiding your reactions was a valuble lesson in survival, and Kirke had learned it well.
"Please do," he said in response to Mr. Dark's last statement. "I gotta say, I'm getting really tired of standing around like an idiot waiting for someone to tell me what's going on. I'm not in the habit of meeting with anyone and all this cloak and dagger crap is wearing thin."
He crossed his arms in front of him, making sure that the movement made his coat flare a little, giving a brief flash of the guns underneath. He knew that it was an empty threat to most of the people in the room, but it was important that he appear unconsirned.
((OOC: U.H., I need to know what knowledge and talents Mr. Dark possesses so I can better work him into the plan I already have an outline for.))
[ QUOTE ]
"I'm sure it is." He said, waiting for the lady in their group to be seated before he himself sat down. "and may I ask Mr. Dumas just what game it is we have all been brought her to play?"
[/ QUOTE ]
Medb let out a quiet chuckle. "The Horned King has as much knowledge about this meeting as the rest of you. I was the one who sent for all of you. I did so not only because I was aware of the talents and knowledge you each possess but also because I know that you each have something that you desire that you have been unable to achieve on your own."
"Nomegeh" picks up a mug and fills it from a tank next to the coffee urn. She sips cautiously. "Kuwait '91. A rare vintage," she says, sounding pleased. "My compliments to the host. Too few people appreciate fine motor oils."
She takes a handful of mixed nuts from the serving bowl nearby, and then walks back to the center of the room.
[ QUOTE ]
"I'm sure it is." He said, waiting for the lady in their group to be seated before he himself sat down. "and may I ask Mr. Dumas just what game it is we have all been brought her to play?"
[/ QUOTE ]
Noticing that Mr. Book has remained standing, she takes his chair and moves it in front of her own so that she can prop her feet up. She watches Medb, waiting for him to explain the purpose of the meeting.
Mr. Book looked down at Nomegeh. Obviously no manners or proper up bringing. What a pity. It was starting to seem that the others where nothing more then street thugs and lackeys. He looked sideways at Kirke
Why had he, a villain of decency and some up standing been invited to a meeting with a group of common riff-raff?
Rather then forcefully taking his chair back he decided to rise above the situation and remain standing.
((OOC: With out realizing it, Peppermint gave Medb a sex change. ^_^
)
[ QUOTE ]
Noticing that Mr. Book has remained standing, she takes his chair and moves it in front of her own so that she can prop her feet up. She watches Medb, waiting for her to explain the purpose of the meeting.
[/ QUOTE ]
Medb, who had not yet sat down, had initially paused for effect, but now had her gaze focused on the automaton. "I feel I must remind you, Hegemon, that you are a guest brought here for the purpose of conducting buisness," the woman was not sounding pleased. "As such, you WILL act in a professional manner as opposed to a common thug and you will NOT act as if this were your personal lair. Do I make myself clear?"
The tension in the room seemed to suddenly increase dramatically. This was exactly what Kirke had been afraid of. Get to many big names in one room and egos were bound to crash.
[ QUOTE ]
"I feel I must remind you, Hegemon, that you are a guest brought here for the purpose of conducting buisness," the woman was not sounding pleased. "As such, you WILL act in a professional manner as opposed to a common thug and you will NOT act as if this were your personal lair. Do I make myself clear?"
[/ QUOTE ]
"Nomegeh" bristles angrily for a split-second, but then calms herself. "You're quite right," she says humbly. "I do apologize for my bad manners; my behavior was completely inappropriate for a mere minion. The Hegemon has frequently told me that I must learn not to rise above my station." 
The Horned King chuckled tohimself and sipped his coffee again.
Mentally however he had made a checklist.
The scholarly fellow could be quite interesting. It would be profitable to speak with him if for nothing more than to trade information.
The automoton, although he admitted his feelings were jaded in the matter, was a pest. It was possible that the machine could rise above "her" station, but frankly Andre doubted it.
The young man at the back looked to be a common thug, but he showed intelligence far beyond that status by simply distancing himself from the other squabblers.
The sudden appearance of the male figure was confounding, but his stance and preseance belied an arrogance about him. Andre knew how arrogance could jade a man's thoughts and resolved not to speak with this one if he could help it.
The woman, Medb, he found singularly interesting. How she had found him, or even known of him was an item of curiosity. The Horned King was not well known, and until he had what he sought Adnre wanted to keep it that way. However, the promises this woman made were not without consideration. If she truly could help him locate...
He shook the thoughts away, ignoring the questions fired at him from the others while the young woman spoke.
A scholar, A machine, A fighter, An arrogant fop, and A mystery woman.
This would be a grand game indeed.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, please. We are guests here, and as such I believe we should behave in a manner befitting such. Such acrimony does not suit us here."
Andre placed his cup down and steepled his fingers.
"Now then, I have introduced myself, and all you have done is fire questions to me and our host. I assure you, I know little more of her grand game than you, but perhaps if we sat and listened we would learn. Perhaps if we all re-introduced ourselves to each other it would be a better start."
[ QUOTE ]
"Ladies and Gentlemen, please. We are guests here, and as such I believe we should behave in a manner befitting such. Such acrimony does not suit us here."
Andre placed his cup down and steepled his fingers.
"Now then, I have introduced myself, and all you have done is fire questions to me and our host. I assure you, I know little more of her grand game than you, but perhaps if we sat and listened we would learn. Perhaps if we all re-introduced ourselves to each other it would be a better start."
[/ QUOTE ]
"Finally, someone with some sense of decorum." Mr. Book thought to himself. Even the new arrival ((Mr. Dark)) had only the appearance of a gentleman and none of the manners in Mr. Book opinion. Sadly Andre was right; Mr. Book was included in the group of people who had rudely demanded to know why they had been summoned. How could he have let his manners slip so? It was something he would have to be careful he did not do again. It must have been the time he was spending in America that was to blame. Americans were so much more vulgar then his fellow Englishmen.
"Very well. I apologies for being so rude. Since we have not all introduced our selves to each other let me be the first. My name is Mr. Book. I come from the island of England and was born in the summer of 1822. I died in the winter of 1852." He smiled, always enjoying the reaction he got from that little fact. "I am what you may call a Paranormal. The body you see before you now is not my own, merely one that I inhabit."
((OOC: The vulgar Americans comment is purely in character.))
[ QUOTE ]
"Perhaps if we all re-introduced ourselves to each other it would be a better start."
[/ QUOTE ]
Nomegeh shrugs. "Well, there's nothing interesting about me; I'm just one of the Hegemon's countless minions. But perhaps some of you haven't met the Hegemon?"
"Briefly, she's a surviving remnant of a super-intelligence created by the late Dr. Floyd Ferris as part of his 'Project Messenger'. Those of you familiar with the project know that it was ultimately a failure, and that the Hegemon no longer possesses the transcendent level of intelligence that she was created with. But, even in her damaged state, she's far superior to humans. Like most sensible people, I'm just completely awe-struck by her.
"You might have heard of her most recent exploit: She managed to recover the Thompson Harmonizer, a long-lost super-weapon, and held all of Paragon City hostage until her demands were met."
[OOC: The journal link in my signature has a much longer version of the Hegemon's story, told from the point-of-view of her sister, Peppermint.]
[ QUOTE ]
"Very well. I apologies for being so rude. Since we have not all introduced our selves to each other let me be the first. My name is Mr. Book. I come from the island of England and was born in the summer of 1822. I died in the winter of 1852." He smiled, always enjoying the reaction he got from that little fact. "I am what you may call a Paranormal. The body you see before you now is not my own, merely one that I inhabit."
[/ QUOTE ]
The Horned King looked at Mr. Book with a deep facination. the void of falling stars seemed to shine brighter with his scrutiny of the man.
"Indeed? It is so good to meet someone with a past similar to one's own. For the record, I was born in 1813 in America. My parents were recent imigrants from France actually, but I was raised here. I... Well I would not say died actually, but rather, became something else, in 1864. I have only recently become, active, again after a long period of rest if you will."
Andre smiled at Mr. Book. It was a lipless grin framed by bone above and below in a horrid rictus.
[ QUOTE ]
"You might have heard of her most recent exploit: She managed to recover the Thompson Harmonizer, a long-lost super-weapon, and held all of Paragon City hostage until her demands were met."
[/ QUOTE ]
"Hurm... An overly ambitious machination. This one bears more watching." Andre thought. He nodded to the rather insolent machine and looked to the other members of the group.
Kirke listened quietly but intently to the introductions until it seemed to be his turn. He stayed silent for just a second (a small show of rebellion) before speaking, keeping his voice steady.
"Kirke. Marcus Kirke. Born about 25 years ago, not planning on dying anytime soon. No powers, no minions, and not much free time," he almost growled, looking pointedly at Medb. "There are a lot of heroes around now-a-days and that needs to be balanced out. That's what I'm doing here."
Someone pointed out the literal army of gangs and occult groups that infested the city, but Kirke waved it away.
"Nothing but two-dimensional thugs. I'm talking about real villains. There aren't too many left anymore." He finished his little speech abruptly, partly to keep his bad attitude apparent to the others and partly because he was surprised with what he had said.
What had made him openly admit all that information? Especially announcing that he had no powers. Stupid. He hadn't been able to stop himself though, it had seemed so natural. Now that Kirke thought about it, all of those gathered seemed to be talking a little too openly, especially for a group of villains. All except for "Nomegeh" of course. He was sure that she was still hiding something, but even she had freely listed a couple exploits her supposed boss had been involved in. Surely not a good idea.
Kirke began to wonder if some outside influence was at work. Some sort of odorless gas being pumped into the room perhaps. Heck, this Medb seemed wealthy enough to have her own team of telepaths on hand using some form of powerful psychic suggestion. Not enough to control any of them openly of course. Kirke was pretty sure that would be impossible with most of the room's occupants, but perhaps enough to make them a little loose with personal information.
Resolving himself to think more carefully about what he said in future, Kirke leaned against the wall directing his attention back to the conversation.
((OOC: No testimonial from JiD at this time since he's not in the room.))
Medb listened to each of the four people that she had personally hand picked to be a part of this venture, recognizing that each had been mostly open and honest with her, Mr. Kirke being more so than the others, but also recongized that almost all of them seemed to have one glaring hole that she already knew from their files. The only person that she would not expect an explanation from was Mr. Dark, who had been forcebly put on the list by her father. This, more than anything, gave her reason to distrust the man.
[ QUOTE ]
"Nothing but two-dimensional thugs. I'm talking about real villains. There aren't too many left anymore."
[/ QUOTE ]
Medb chuckled at the remark. "I find it funny that you do not label the thugs as villains, but you may not recall what that word meant in the past. However, I do understand your meaning, and I do agree, Mr. Kirke, that there are far too few true threats to the status quo. This very reason, is in part, why I have assembled this group together.
"However, I must admit that I also have certain self-serving reasons for doing so as well. You see, I am to summon a specific powerful entity from another dimension, a sort of other worldly, living weapon. However, my father, who had originally created this plan now seeks to sabotage it's success. His new plan is to stop the summoning when it reaches it's apex, causing the weapon to not only be destroyed, but also causing all demensions connected to it's prison and our world to be sent into oblivion as well. We cannot let my father succeed in his plan.
"I know you are probably thinking that I am proposing an act of heroism, however, if my father is prevented from stopping the summoning, then we will have the most powerful weapon in this or any other known world, and we can use it however we please."
[ QUOTE ]
"Nothing but two-dimensional thugs. I'm talking about real villains. There aren't too many left anymore."
[/ QUOTE ]
Mr. Book looked at Kirke with interest, the words striking a cord with him. It was not as elegantly put as he would have put it himself but Kirke's statement was regretfully very true. Villains today were just thugs, two-dimensional, no sense of style or decency. Even villains such as the ClockWork king were guilty of this. Maybe Kirke was not the mindless thug Mr. Book had first believed him to be. It was still obvious that the man had little or no class but in his own common way what he was saying was very poetic. Kirke's honesty about his abilities had been foolish but in a way Mr. Book also respected him for it. However that did not mean he would be inviting the man to any social gatherings any time soon, not the kind of circles he mixed in.
Mr. Book also wondered how truthful the others had been or if like himself they had omitted certain facts about themselves. Giving to much information about ones self was dangerous. Give too much and someone can search for a weakness.
They all listened as Medb informed them of why they had been summoned. When she was finished Mr. Book spoke up.
"Forgive me for being so rude as to ask but how does helping you achieve this goal aid us? I myself have no need of super weapons. However, I can not vouch for your other guests."
((OOC: Crud... might have written myself into a corner. I'll have something by Monday in relation to Book's question, I hope.))
((OOC: Agh. I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to do that. Maybe Medb knows the location of the person Mr. Book is looking for (the one I told you about) and will give it to him in return for help. The weapon could also have other abilities that would be useful to him.))
[ QUOTE ]
"However, I must admit that I also have certain self-serving reasons for doing so as well. You see, I am to summon a specific powerful entity from another dimension, a sort of other worldly, living weapon. However, my father, who had originally created this plan now seeks to sabotage it's success. His new plan is to stop the summoning when it reaches it's apex, causing the weapon to not only be destroyed, but also causing all demensions connected to it's prison and our world to be sent into oblivion as well.
[/ QUOTE ]
"I apologize for speaking out of turn," Nomegeh says, "but the Hegemon would probably have some comments at this point."
"I've already mentioned that the Hegemon was created as part of Project Messenger. Some of the files have been leaked onto the Internet, so there's no harm in telling you that Project Messenger was a failure.
"The flaw was that it is impossible for a superior being to be controlled by inferiors. The Project Messenger constructs rebelled against Dr. Ferris, time after time. Despite all his precautions, rogue units destroyed his research labs, bankrupted his organization, and eventually killed the man himself.
"So I'm concerned about plans to bring this powerful living weapon into our universe. How can we ever be sure that it will follow the Hegemon's orders instead of acting on its own agenda?
"I'm also concerned that we don't fully understand your father's plans. How does he benefit from the destruction of our world? This needs to be investigated. I'm just speculating, but I wonder if his goal isn't to destroy the weapon, but rather to absorb it into himself?"
((OOC: Disreguard my message, Stu. I found some time under the sofa cushions.))
[ QUOTE ]
Mr. Book looked at Kirke with interest, the words striking a cord with him. It was not as elegantly put as he would have put it himself but Kirke's statement was regretfully very true. Villains today were just thugs, two-dimensional, no sense of style or decency. Even villains such as the ClockWork king were guilty of this. Maybe Kirke was not the mindless thug Mr. Book had first believed him to be. It was still obvious that the man had little or no class but in his own common way what he was saying was very poetic. Kirke's honesty about his abilities had been foolish but in a way Mr. Book also respected him for it. However that did not mean he would be inviting the man to any social gatherings any time soon, not the kind of circles he mixed in.
Mr. Book also wondered how truthful the others had been or if like himself they had omitted certain facts about themselves. Giving to much information about ones self was dangerous. Give too much and someone can search for a weakness.
They all listened as Medb informed them of why they had been summoned. When she was finished Mr. Book spoke up.
"Forgive me for being so rude as to ask but how does helping you achieve this goal aid us? I myself have no need of super weapons. However, I can not vouch for your other guests."
[/ QUOTE ]
Medb thought for a moment. "I could give you the obvious answers: the distruction of all of the known realities would be bad for any of our personal goals since my father would find someone as suicidal as he is; it is better for such a weapon to be in one's own hands rather than in the unpredictable hands of another; or even, that you should have longer term plans for after you find a relitive that can act as your host. However, I don't believe these arguements would be as persuasive as being given payment for services rendered. And I don't just mean monitary payment. I have knowledge of who you are looking for, Mr. Book, both with in the Paragon City you know, as well as through any of the multitude of portals that exist there, some of whom may even have powers that might supplement your own abilities.
"The same goes for you all, I can help you get what each of you want most."
((OOC: That's ok. I'm just happy I did not screw things up 
))
Mr. Books jaw clenched at the mention of need to find a new host, a living desendant. He faught to keep is anger in check, to still be a gentalmen. He stood a little stiffer now. The air around his started to grew colder and a light wind blew through the room. To anyone who could feel it the wind felt like the light tuch of hands dragging over them, some of them weakily trying to grab hold.
After a short moment of silance giving Mr. Book the time to think the air started to return to normal, his jaw became unclenched. Still, he tried to hide the fact that he had been on the verge of losing his temper. He was not happy that Medb had some how obtained information about him which he had gone to great lengths to keep secret. Could she know his true family name too? She must do if she knew the person he seeked. For now he decided he would play along.
He gave a small bow. You speak truthfully. I must apologies for my miss understanding of your intentions. Such a thing would indeed be bad for us all and if you can aid me with my short term goal as you elegantly put it then I think we can work together. As for my long term plans
.. I believe now your plan could also aid me, yes.
Medb narrowed her eyes a Mr. Book while had his little episode. She'd known that showing even a portion of her hand at this point was dangerous but she needed the man's experience with soul transference and spirit transmigration, as well as his ability with the darker arts, if her plan was to succeed. She would speak to him later in an attempt to do some damage control.
[ QUOTE ]
"I apologize for speaking out of turn," Nomegeh says, "but the Hegemon would probably have some comments at this point."
"I've already mentioned that the Hegemon was created as part of Project Messenger. Some of the files have been leaked onto the Internet, so there's no harm in telling you that Project Messenger was a failure.
"The flaw was that it is impossible for a superior being to be controlled by inferiors. The Project Messenger constructs rebelled against Dr. Ferris, time after time. Despite all his precautions, rogue units destroyed his research labs, bankrupted his organization, and eventually killed the man himself.
"So I'm concerned about plans to bring this powerful living weapon into our universe. How can we ever be sure that it will follow the Hegemon's orders instead of acting on its own agenda?
"I'm also concerned that we don't fully understand your father's plans. How does he benefit from the destruction of our world? This needs to be investigated. I'm just speculating, but I wonder if his goal isn't to destroy the weapon, but rather to absorb it into himself?"
[/ QUOTE ]
Medb was getting gradually more annoyed with the Hegemon. She new that the android was posing as her own henchman. She also new that the automaton would not admit to doing so if called on it, no matter the evidence. The arrogance of the "fem-bot" was also grating on her last nerve. She had only one choice as to how to deal with this farce.
"I am sorry, Nomegeh, but any further details will have to be given to the Hegemon in person. If she wants it, then she must come to me. I will continue once the minion has been escorted out."
((OOC: I know I'm probably coming off as a jerk, but the character of Hegemon rubs me the wrong way, and as a result tends to do the same to my own characters. Even so, I am not trying to write the character out all together. Think of this as a poker game except that Medb can see everyone (except Dark) else's cards.))
((OOC: Don't tell me I wrote us into a corner now... Oh, wait, you guys are probably preparing for the holiday (or celebrating/observering as the case maybe)
There was a flash of light then an old man that apeared to have tendrils of darkness leaking out of him on all sides came into being."Dear Me am I late?"He gazed around the room as if exmining the people in the room and then said"My name's Dark Mason.Have I missed anything?"
TW/Elec Optimization
A gaunt figure sat at the table already. His skeletal like hand gripped firmly on the handle of a coffee mug.
The robes the figure wore were tattered remnants of those worn by mages in highest eschalons of the Circle of Thorns. However, a haphazard hood had been attached, shrouding the face of the figure in shadows. The antlers sprouting from the skull of the man however, peirced through the fabric and kept the hood firmly in place.
He slowly turned to regard the others who entered. The light barely penetrating the darkness beneath the hood reflected a lipless and leering smile which sprouted from the figure. His empty eye-sockets showed a vision of a massive void filled with eternally falling stars as he regarded each newcommer in turn.
"Ah... More figures to add to this grand game." The figure chuckled and raised his mug in a mockery of a toast.
"I bid you welcome, and am glad to see I am not alone. You may call me Andre Dumas, but you may know me as the Horned King."
Andre pulled the mug beneath the shrouds of his cloak and drank deeply.
"The coffee is quite good..."