19317/Brotherhood of the Chosen: Q&A

Brotherhood of the Chosen: Q&A
Date of Scene:	19 October 2024
Location:	Bucky's Place, New Orleans.
Synopsis:	The team gets a name and a good look inside the mind of a true zealot. Is La Confrerie des Elus an even bigger threat than HYDRA itself or are they just crazy enough to think so?
Cast of Characters:	James Barnes, Yelena Belova, Natasha Romanoff, Richard Stadler, Camille Russo

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James Barnes has posed:
Bucky's little hiding spot in New Orleans hasn't changed much since those present tonight hunted him down there and dragged him back from the ledge. It's a small apartment above a quaint little restaurant. The proprietor of that little restaurant is a little old lady - she's either mostly deaf or the whole place is built well enough that sound doesn't travel. Or maybe, just maybe, that little old woman isn't as feeble as she sometimes might pretend to be? Maybe she knows exactly who James Barnes is - maybe she just looks the other way?

Whatever's going on between him and the 'landlady', it's clear that he thinks this is a perfectly acceptable place to 'question' the man that was part of the assassination attempt on his friend.

It's been roughly twelve hours since Natasha and Yelena's arrival. That's been twelve hours that the 'girls' have had 'alone' time with their new friend. Once Yaro was all safe, being treated and set up with some personal security via one of Bucky's many contacts, he made the trip to New Orleans along with Richard and Camille.

It isn't the 'blend in with suburban life' version of Bucky that walks through the door to the little apartment. No, he's taken time to become the boogey man somewhere along the way. He doesn't say a word when he enters the room - he just finds himself a place to stand that's out of the way yet in perfect view of their 'guest'.

Yelena Belova has posed:
Yelena Belova could have left no mark. She could have made the man suffer with a pinch of nerve, a twist of limb so subtle as to not even leave the ghost of a bruise in its wake. Enough to make any man spill his guts, all without spilling a single inch of gut. She could have done it that way. She just didn't want to.

So the man has his hood yanked off and he's clearly missing a few teeth, an eye blackened. His own belt, now left behind at an undisclosed location, has left telltale marks from where Yelena wrapped it around his throat and put her feet against the back of his chair. And she pushed and she pushed.

Natasha would do what Natasha would do. But Yelena wanted her pound of flesh and she took it. He pissed her off at the wrong time. These people had snatched too many little girls in this world and Yelena would kill every one of them to stop it from happening ever again.

But she didn't kill him. Not yet. Here he is, flesh and blood, hancuffed to the chair, one eye pink-shot with broken vessels, but breathing. Not talking yet. His mouth is still gagged.

"I have made him soft. Ask your questions."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha had left the decision on what to do to Yelena. The girl had in her mind earned it. And she needed something to inflict her own venom from. Natasha's only restriction was that the man needed to have enough of him left to answer questions. And if anyone came in that was squeamish about such things.. Well.. Natasha would merely note that the man was affiliated with the group that had killed Captain America.

That was almost always enough to silence the critics. So now she's flanking Yelena, almost in total silence now while she's surveying the others present in whatever state they might be. A low nod is given over to Yelena. Not what Natasha would have done to the man. But the girl had earned the right and it had been her decision. And it had been left unintervened.

Richard Stadler has posed:
     Enhanced Interrogation... it... wasn't something Rick liked. Conflicting feelings, of course. Field expedients were sometimes... necessary, in situations where quick information was vital, but it's effectiveness was always... limited. And, well... it never sat well. Who knows when you would be on the other side of that chair, having killed someone's son or daughter? Father or mother? Because duty required it?

Of course, the other question was if he was only able to find it distasteful because he was, in this case, innured from practicing it, having others who were more capable, more willing to do the job? And all these moral arguments fell apart, of course, when the person in front of you had a black pit where one's soul would be.

He shook his head from the wool gathering as he turned to the man that was in front of them. Certainly, he wasn't going to get that eye fixed, those bruises repaired. Might as well use what status he could muster.

"I don't like what they've had to do here. I would prefer that they not have to do more of it." He said, gesturing to the two woman here. "I'm not going to promise you safety. I won't lie to you, but you've got a simple binary right. Answer what questions we have, pain doesn't happen. Don't, and pain continues. Understand?"

Camille Russo has posed:
Camille seemingly doesn't pay any attention to the would-be assassin at all as she rummages through the kitchen until she's got a small cup in her hands, prowling closer until she can grip the man's face with deceptively strong hands. "That should do nicely," she hums out quietly, slowly applying pressure until his mouth is open, blood and saliva pooling in the bottom of the cup. Her ever-present marker makes an appearance, uncapped and stirring the mixture before she starts to scrawl flowers across his cheeks and neck. Daffodils, gladiolus, bittersweet, pansy. Amaryllis. Truth. Sincerity. Remembrance. A hard won success.

She steps back, views her handy work, then firmly grips the back of his neck, fully aware she's still not back to full strength. "We will know if you are lying," Cam says, squeezing lightly. "So it would be in your best interests to... cooperate." Her eyes already have a milky sheen as she looks up at James. "Ask your questions, mon hiver. He will tell us the truth, or he will sound like the fool he is."

James Barnes has posed:
Through it all, the man didn't say a single word, not one. He didn't beg for mercy, he didn't offer to spill his guts and didn't plead for them to not be spilled for him. He's a tough one. Most zealots typically are - but that does give them one answer. The man's not just some hired gun and whatever it is that The Brotherhood of the Chosen is up to, this guy's on board completely.

Still, there *are* ways to make a man talk, right?

It may take a bit of time, but Bucky has patience in spades when it comes to this sort of thing. For now though, he's just the boogey man looming silently in the corner. While the presence of Winter hasn't drawn anything but a few wary glances from their guest so far, it's at least clear that the man's *noticed* Bucky. Who wouldn't?

Bucky makes no show of trying to hide his actions when he pulls a cell phone from one of his many pockets and snaps the man's picture before Camille begins turning him into one of her special art projects.

The man struggles through that entire process, making it as difficult as possible.

"Ungag him." Can words and tone imply a season? Can they chill a room? Particularly when they're so simple? They can and they do when Bucky speaks them. It is abundantly clear that he has zero concern for this man's wellbeing - that he'll have zero guilt over the man's death should it come to that. Seeing him bound and bleeding doesn't bring Bucky any 'joy' - it simply doesn't matter. This man's a means to an end and nothing more to him. While he's waiting for his instructions to be carried out, he looks back down at his phone. Maybe he's playing Words with Friends?

Yelena Belova has posed:
Yelena Belova unties the gag, drawing the rag from the man's mouth. Blood stained have soaked into it, but Yelena tucks it away, either to stash evidence or kept as a trophy. Hard to say. Hopefully not the latter. Pathological behavior for her personality type wasn't precisely a good sign.

She leaves the man to Bucky now. She didn't need to ask any questions. She knew what she needed to know. She'd let the others find out where and who she was going to have to kill.

So much for being one of the good guys. Oh well. She could be a bad guy for the good side. That balanced out, right?

"I am having a cigarette. Nobody complain, da? I am in no mood for lecture."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanova would tap over at her fingers, "You harmed children. You experimented on them. I see little reason why we don't take that as justification to consider the same with you. You can give us answers the simple way, or we can do it the extended route. Between us we have a solid three hundred yeasr of experience with it." Amongst all of them after all they came close.

Natasha would then go over to a small table that she had set up a chisel, a set of pliers, a hammer, and some electrodes. Then going to take out a msall screen to flash an image of the human brain as if being picked up in an MRI scan. Various sectors of it would flash.

"We've found certain parts of the mind responsible for certain things. Feelings. Actions. Trigger a nerve somewhere, a hand snaps. Trigger another one somewhere else, a leg spasms. These ones are a bit more involved. Thank Hydra for thier good work." She would smile sweetly and sadistically.

"Certain parts of the brain are responsible for memories. Memories associated with specifi feelings. We took the time while Yelena was demonstrating to do some quick charting." A part of the brain flashes. "This part holds things dear to most. Their first love. Their first kiss. Happy memories of childhood. The brain can be jolted.." She goes to take out the chisel, mimes tapping it, and then points at the electrodes. "And burnt out."

Richard Stadler has posed:
     Rick could look over to Camille's art project with a bit of disbelief, but it was a more... familiar, affable bafflement with the way magic worked. Rituals that Rick couldn't see the base parts of, he was familiar with that feeling; just because he didn't understand it didn't mean that it wouldn't be effective. But... well.

Rick tried to keep the way he looked over to Nastasha under control, but it was.. stunned? Certainly a bit disgusted, and he gave voice to his concerns a few seconds after she stopped speaking. "Oh, for the love of God." He says, moving to one of the corners of a room. "We aren't meant to be monsters, here. Barbarism for barbarism. Stealing memories, promising living with brain damage- Jesus." It wasn't an act. It didn't need to be, this time. Rick knew perfectly well he was playing up the threat this posed. Playing into the good cop angle. It certainly helped when you had real objections to voice.

"And Rick looks over to Yelena for a moment. "Nyet. No lecture from me, but I've been up to a pack of them some weeks and right now, given what Ms. Romanova looks about to do, I don't need the added stress."

Camille Russo has posed:
"Hopefully he won't waste our time, but if he'd like to there are plenty of things practitioners on this land can do with blood, hair, and fingernails to make him more useful in the afterlife," Camille says. She's not particularly comfortable with Natasha's brand of torture, here, but she trusts James to ask smart questions while her magic is working on the man, and she trusts Rick to not let things get too far from... field interrogation. "I don't know that I would want to be used in those rituals myself, but the wretched dead don't generally get the choice." Her head tilts down, hand lightly directing the man's skull until her milky eyes can stare into his own. "If you cooperate, I will ensure you are buried properly, yes? So be a wise man and answer our answer our questions."

James Barnes has posed:
"Nyet, Natasha." At least not yet. Bucky has better ways, more effective ways - potentially - to break a man. He looks up from his phone and idly tucks it away in his pocket before moving forward to squat down in front of their guest. He gets spat in the face for his efforts, but simply reaches up with his right hand to wipe away the spittle - otherwise, the insult gets no reaction. There's no room for the heat of anger in the cold of Winter. "Votre soeur Eloise? Votre femme Juliette? Votre frere Theo? Pensez-vous qu'ils savent ou vous etes, Etienne Dubois?" He couldn't pull off the French better if he was native Frenchman.

Bucky glances over his shoulder at all of Natasha's fun toys and then turns back to the man bound in front of him. "Maybe you would like what she has laid in front of you done to them instead? It wouldn't be hard to find them."

For the first time, the man speaks, "How do you know my name?!" But it's likely not *his* name the man is worried about. Finding that information so quickly is enough to make a person wonder just what kind of contacts Bucky really has - just who received that photo from the burner he snapped that picture with?

"I think he's ready to talk now." The last bit is directed at Rick, however he doesn't speak the man's name like he did Natasha's.

Natasha, Yelena and Bucky - they're already 'outed' to these people. Camille and Rick are not and Bucky plans to keep their names off the books.

"Remember, Solnyshko, will know if you're lying."

The floor is open for questions and apparently Rick is the first up to ask them.

Bucky straightens and steps back into his corner.

Yelena Belova has posed:
Yelena Belova is just taking a chair for herself, one of those high backed wooden ones. Straddlin it in reverse, turning the filigreed chairback to face towards the interrogation. She wasn't questioning, but tshe wasn't hiding from it. She wanted him to see her, in fact. To remember what he'd done to her. Worst case scenario, the killer got jumpy and gave Yelena an excuse to put him down.

She lights her cigarette, a Russian brand she paid five times the right price to get from a smuggler cause she couldn't stand weak American tobacco. Her eyes seem dull, empty. She's there but she isn't there. Operating on autopilot.

Today, for the first time in a long time, Yelena Belova was a Black Widow.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanova would glance over at her equipment, giving a slow nod over to Bucky. The toys had all been for show on her end. It was something purely theoretical.. In a laboratory setting.. That had never actually been legitimately done even by Hydra's rather lax standards of experimental success. She would keep her hand over on the chisel.

"How long have you been taking girls?" A simple question. One that would be easy to answer. A good way to test if the man was being open with them or not. Presuming he was.. It would also give them a much better idea of how much depth the organization had. The longer things were around, generally the deeper their tendrils went.

Taking a moment to consider, leaving the low hanging fruit out there to let one of the others run with it. Particularly the rather broad strokes of whatever affiliation they had with Hydra. A light opening. Any self-proclaimed 'offshoot' of the organization would definitely not want to be sent back to it after all.

Richard Stadler has posed:
     Rick looks over to Bucky with a grimace. This wasn't exactly how he liked to interrogate people. He always found it a lot simpler to speak in simple choices. Provide this, this happens. Don't, and another happens. Veiled threats were... distasteful. Or theatrical. Perhaps both. Compared to erasing someone's mind with a chisel, however... well... to be honest, that did sound a bit far fetched. It didn't mean it was impossible. Or that Romanova wouldn't try it anyway to see what would happen. Christ, he forgot about how complicated spooks were.

His nose wrinkled a bit at the cigerrette smoke, but a quick look over to see Yelena's eyes staring dull ahead of her to nothing was enough to shelve his objection. He's have to just show some willpower today.

"At the moment, it looks like we have a lot of things we can take from you; I'd want to keep it to intelligence if at all possible. Please." He said. His tone didn't plead, there. What happened now was up to him. "We'll start with a simple one at the moment. Who gave you the order to attack the Doctor? And who were you going to report to next? When? And how?"

Camille Russo has posed:
Camille's hand stays steady on the man's neck, a low current of magic running from her own body and into the blood-and-ink flowers she'd drawn on his face, through his spine and jumping along the synapses of his brain. Natasha had MRI scans, but Cam could feel her magic settling around him, softly encouraging him to be sincere. Tell the truth. Remember the answers to the questions posed at him.

She asks none of her own, instead focusing her energy on keeping that connection, encouraging those truths. Earning the hard-won victory of knowledge. Her eyes stay focused on James, hazy as they are with the sheen of magic, giving the man she's claimed as kin a heads-up view for when her magic inevitably drains down to the bare reserves.

James Barnes has posed:
Etienne - the guest now has a name - replies, "Why do you think it is only girls? Boys, they can be chosen too." He didn't directly answer the 'how long' question, but there's truth there when he implies that it's not only girls on the menu. "My own son was chosen, it is a privilege, an honor!" His words are heavily French accented and even more heavily laden with true conviction. Etienne truly believes what they're doing is *right*.

Make no mistakes Richard - the threats weren't veiled, nor where they threats. They were promises - Bucky absolutely would have had the sister, wife and brother all rounded up.

The man actually smiles - no grins, it's not so friendly as a smile, not nearly so warm - at Rick. "For weeks, we have been watching Yaro, waiting to see if those that came for Savannah would find him. We were watching others too, those with the same knowledge, those in the same circles. You think you are smart, we will always be one step ahead." Didn't quite answer the question - again there's truth to the answer that wasn't an answer.

Bucky has no questions of his own. He simply pulls his phone from his pocket, dials a number and speaks one word, "Juliette." Is he actually speaking to Etienne's wife? It's more likely that he's letting his contact know that she's the first one they should find. He hangs up the phone and says, "Try again."

"I don't know, I don't know how long before my son was chosen!" Often times a man that doesn't care enough for himself to compromise his beliefs will change his tune when his family is on the line. But Rick's question, it causes pause. Etienne looks down. There's an ever so subtle shake of his head. Anyone trained to pick up tells would see it - he's more afraid of whoever gave the order than he is of those in the room with him now.

Yelena Belova has posed:
Yelena Belova snorts, "We have not put enough fear into him. They have his son, who will suffer for his sins."

She takes a long drag on her cigarette, "He can be broken, still, but it would take longer than we have. And I do not think some of your friends here, Bucky Barnes," she says, looking especially towards Richard and Camille, "I do not think they would look aside long enough for me to do it. I suggest we leave him in a ditch. Preferably with his throat slit."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
And to that, Natasha just gives a sadistic smile over to the man as she reads his face, "And /he/ is not here. But /we/ are. If you are afraid of him then you should be terrified of us. After all, he is only -human-." And she is an abomination. And the man wants to make more of her.

Natasha glances down over to the chisel and goes to pickit up. Then musing.. Gonig to put it down, and taking out an icepick instead, and a large sledgehammer.

Giving a no over to Yelena, "Probably the simplest way. If we truly need it, we can always find someone to raise him later. The dead can talk more readily than the living."

Richard Stadler has posed:
     Stadler looks over to the man, and then over to Yelena, to Natasha, to Bucky. "There are a few things you're not seeing, at the moment. You're in a room full of monsters, right now. The obvious ones, certainly, but in terms of how you're one step ahead, then. What's my name?" He asks, cocking his head. "My position? Capabilities? Contacts? You speak with the confidence of someone who's only seen a part of the picture and thinks it's the total one. The important thing to note here is that no one in this room, or who they represent, are strangers to how this game is played. And while you're thinking about that, there is no 'we', right now. What do you think happens when this ends? Assume you walk out of here. Do you think your master's will trust you haven't given us any information? I won't slit your throat, myself. I prefer making things rather quick." He says. Leaving unsaid the pistol he has at the small of his back. "What happens to your son when they don't need him as leverage, do you think? Easy enough to make him disappear." He notes, leaning forward. "The wolves on our side are nipping at the rest of your family. You have no good outcomes, but a very thin line to walk for the best one. The only way your family, your son, might get out of this alive is if we act swiftly enough to take these people apart. And that starts with telling me who we go to next. The higher in the chain, the better."

Camille Russo has posed:
He allowed them to... his own flesh and blood?

The grip on his neck firms as Camille processes this information. Erzulie Danto, give her the strength to not just slit his throat and hand him over to Tante Antionelle. "I feel your mind turning, kin-betrayer. You're wondering how well you can bullshit your way through this, enough to spare you the torture and give you a merciful death." Her thumb digs into the cord of muscle, short fingernails creating crescents in his flesh. "I would obey the men asking you the questions, because while one of them might not slit your throat himself..."

Her other hand comes up, enchanted blade flashing in his line of sight. "This knife has already sent men to The Baron, and I am sure he would appreciate playing with one sent as an offering to Danto for wrongs committed against the children."

James Barnes has posed:
It's clear that the man speaks and understands English - but communicating with him in his own language? It's all part of the process - it bridges a gap, it provides a sense of familiarity, even when the words spoken aren't exactly 'friendly'. ""Je vois que votre famille est protegee d'eux si vous cooperez, sinon cela finira simplement mal pour eux. Le choix vous appartient, Etienne," Bucky says. It's simply an offer to lend truth to Rick's words - they can protect Etienne's family, but will only do so if the man cooperates. If he choses not to, well all bets are off.

"My son is not *leverage*, he is *chosen*," Etienne spits out in Rick's direction. "He will still be one of the chosen long after I am gone. He will still be the first in line to a new human race."

But what of the rest of his family? They aren't 'chosen'. Etienne's gaze flickers momentarily toward Yelena and Natasha and then back to Bucky, finally to Rick. "It is not Cloutier, he is only the figurehead - he is nothing. He is won over by praise and flattery, he is blind to the *power* that will be unleashed upon the world! It is Armand that is transforming the chosen. It is Armand that will always be one step ahead." Perhaps he's no longer more afraid of Armand than he is of those in the room? Or maybe he's just resigned to his fate and feels the need to let everyone know that *Armand* will win, that he knows all, that he's smarter than them all. The twisted grin he's wearing points to the latter. "Lucien is dead by your hand, perhaps I will be too soon. But they will know something is wrong when we do not report back. They will know and they will come for you, they will come for Yaro - they will come for *your* families. They are 'nipping at *your* heals', as you say. You will not stop NOVA and you will not stop The Brotherhood."

With each word, that grin grows wider, broader, more unhinged. "My son will one day be the *reckoning* of the likes of *you*. The likes of Sergeant James Barnes and the Widows Yelena and Natasha."

Maybe everyone in the room will comprehend the sound that comes next, the cracking of something between Etienne's teeth. Or perhaps not everyone? At the very least Bucky, Yelena and Natasha will recognize the sound of a capsule being broken - the safe bet is cyanide.

Yelena Belova has posed:
Yelena Belova realizes what Etienne is doing and, perhaps, could have stopped him, if she'd tried. If she'd wanted him to live.

But she didn't. She'd rather he died choking, one way or another. Him leaning into it just meant it would be easier to evade any blame for his death, no matter how much of his blood had ended up under her fingernails before she'd been finished with him.

She finishes her smoke and drops it to the floor, grinding it out with her boot. "Die already."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanova is so, so tempted to let the man do it. But that means he goes out on his own terms rather than their's. Her hand snatches forwards, even as the man goes to bite back hard to work on the cyanide capsule. She was sloppy, of /course/ an operative would have one and a fanatic iwlling to use it. What follows ia brutal *CRUNCH* as she shatters his teeth, snappin ghis head down and other hand giving a blow to the back of the skull, the intent being to have the gag reflex spit out everything before the cyanide could work.

Speaking in casual, taunting French. "You die when we PERMIT you to."

Richard Stadler has posed:
     The look on Rick's face starts compassionate, of course. Cold, as need be, of course. They were still trying to get information out of him. But he understood the situation the man was in, The way you worked an interrogation is giving them a way out.

But that look slowly, slowly moves to shock, and then... then to that same disgust he had shown to the unalloyed torture Romanova had suggested. "You..." There was talk of Cloutier, of Armand, transforming the chosen, but Rick was already focused on one thing he was saying. "You're... you threw your son in with them. Your /son/. You had a duty. a... a goddamn job to do as a father, and that was to protect him, and you just threw him to medical testing? What kind of son of a bitch.. the lowest form of-"

The teeth cracking causes some confusion, but the way he looks after it made it painfully obvious, Rick's eye's go wide, quickly dashing off to a bag in the corner of the room. "Why the hell didn't any of you check his goddamn teeth." Rick yelled out, even as Natasha moved to go snap his teeth, smack his head. Rick had other plans.

The insulated case comes out. Two bottles, two syringes. A small amount taking from one bottle, stabbed, plunger down in where he was hoping their was a vien. Then a second, larger dose. No time to wait for either sodium nitrate or thiosulfate to work for the full amount of time. Or the side effects. It was another form of insurance, chemical methods to Natasha's physical. The two syringes are thrown, haphazardly, into a corner of the room, the vials clattering along with the case on the wooden floor, as Rick follows up Natasha's blow with grabbing the the man by the shirt, and slamming the chair aganist the wall.

"Your son is going to /die/. Do you understand that? They are going to use him for test after test, painful ones, life altering ones, and if he survives those, if he gets to be the chosen, he is going to be /first/ in line for a war that /others/ will win, and he'll simply be a corpse for. That's how this /works/, you fucking moron! He's going to writhe from side effects or bleed out after murdering god knows how many and in both circumstances he's going to be asking why /you/ did this to him. The /only/ way that he doesn't is if you give us a fucking name!"

Camille Russo has posed:
The only reason the man doesn't meet the business side of her knife when Nat cracks his teeth is because she had it in his line of sight rather than positioned appropriately. Almost a pity, that. Still, she's calm through all of it, the uncomfortable things partitioned behind her magic to sort through later.

At least, that's the plan, but of course those never survive contact with the enemy.

Camille's eyes widen from her place behind their would-be assassin as Rick transforms from his cool competence into the picture of paternal rage, an anger she's only seen the smallest glimpses of suddenly up front and close as she snatches her hand out of the way before it can be smashed between the man in the chair and the wall. Her eyes lose the milky sheen, blinking rapidly at the older man before she lets out a long, low whistle. "Oooh, you done fucked up admitting that you just gave your child over, fils de pute." Her hand slaps the back of his neck as she establishes her hold on the man and allows the sheen to reglaze her eyes. "Make it fast." She leans against the wall, grateful for the support, and trains her eyes back on Rick and James.

James Barnes has posed:
When it's all said and done, Etienne is still alive. He's going to need a lot of dental work if he continues to survive... but when he's done sputtering and gagging and spitting out his own blood and teeth, he's still grinning. His eyes are wild - the man is truly unhinged. "Vincent Durand," he spits out along with a few more tooth bits and a little more blood. "But you are wrong. My son will be a GOD amongst men!"

"Dastatuchuna," - enough. Bucky doesn't bark the word, but the frigidness of tone demands attention at the very least - it almost physically chills the room. "He is useless to us. His own will take care of him. Blindfold him and drop him somewhere or dispose of him as you see fit. He missed his mark, he left the job unfinished *and* he was caught." Did anyone notice it though? That flicker of something that momentarily danced across Bucky's face - that subtle change in his otherwise expressionless, emotionless features? Was it maybe recognition?

Could that be why he's so ready to dismiss their 'guest'?

On second thought, he has one more thing he needs to ask. Once again, Bucky squats in front of Etienne. This time the man doesn't spit. He just keeps grinning that insane grin. "Coultier travaille-t-il avec HYDRA?", Bucky asks the question on everyone's mind. Is Armand working with HYDRA.

"Bientot, HYDRA travaillera pour Armand," is Etienne's reply. Is he really implying that HYDRA will soon be working for Armand?

It's Bucky's to grin. His is nearly as maniacal as the Frenchman's. "L'orgueil precede la chute." Pride cometh before the fall. But is Bucky wrong? Has he been so 'brainwashed' by HYDRA. Has his long suffering at their hands made him believe that *they're* the unstoppable force? Could it be that this new threat, this Brotherhood of the Chosen might be an even bigger, have even more heads than the largest terroristic organization of all time?

Or maybe he's right and this 'Brotherhood' are so completely insane and egomaniacal simply *believe* they can best *HYDRA*?

Yelena Belova has posed:
Yelena Belova kicks over the chair she'd been sitting on. There are probably complicated issues to think about all of this, in regards to Hydra, SHIELD, the state of the world. The dark possibilities that post-human genetic and psychological experimentation will inevitably unleash on a world too dazzled by shiny flying people in brightly colored capes to notice the dead rotting away in the shadows.

"I am getting some fresh air," she says, stomping her way outside, "I will check perimeter while I'm at it."

James Barnes has posed:
James Barnes says, "I am getting some fresh air," she says, stomping her way outside, "I will check perimeter while I'm at it."
"

Richard Stadler has posed:
     A name. That's what they wanted, and that's what they were getting. Rick looks at him for a long moment, then over to Camille, his eyes still wide, anger, fury in them mixed with just a bit of chastisement. The words made it... cheaper, than he wanted, and it was enough to release the man's shirt to have him fall back into his chair. "A god you won't be around to educate. You.. you-" He says, before stopping, and shaking his head. "I want you to live long enough for it to get through to you. I desperately want that. I won't get it. One of you can black bag him. Drop him off somewhere on that causeway they have here and have him walk the rest of the way back." He mutters, walking toward the door himself.

The man was a believer. Believed that what was happening was best for his son. And Rick knew his mind wouldn't change. But Rick knew willful ignorance when he saw it, and that left nothing but contempt for a father who had a duty he had cheerfully and happily abrogated in exchange for a power he was certain that boy would never have.

Maybe Yelena still had a cigarette..

Camille Russo has posed:
"I'll take care of this one if you don't mind taking me out to the swamplands later, mon hiver." Cam pats the unfortunate Etienne on the head gently before dropping her hand, eyes fading back to their normal brown as she stops channeling magic into him. "I did say I would bury him properly if he complied, and I keep my word."

She stares at Rick's back as he exits, moving to stand next to James. "A curse though, to see everything your child is put through by your Brotherhood." She almost spits the last word, stepping close and uncapping her marker again, drawing sigils for clarity over his eyelids. "You will see what your child is put through. You will know his thoughts on being gifted by his own Papa to madmen. From now until he is able to face you in the afterlife, you will experience any suffering he is put through threefold, kin-betrayer. A gift from me to Erzulie Danto."

She draws as she lays the curse down, then bends forward and brushes her lips over the man's forehead in a parody of a mother's kiss. "Please give The Baron and The Mother my regards once you meet them."

James Barnes has posed:
It's Bucky that puts that black bag over Etienne's head. Not that it means anything, not that the man will be able to tell any tales when it's finished. It's just that much more terrifying to be led around in the dark with no knowledge of *when* it's coming.

"Natasha, go with Camille," he asks? Sort of? James Barne's been a little bossy of late. Remains to be seen if that's a good look or a bad look. ""Ne ostavlyayte yego v zhivykh." - Don't leave him alive.

If Solnyshko can't follow through in the end, Bucky knows Natasha will not fail him.

When he makes his way out the door, he passes by Rick and Yelena and their smoking session without a word.

Vincent Durand - how many of them can there be in the world? What are the odds it's *not* the same one?