15642/Welcome, glad to see you!

Welcome, glad to see you!
Date of Scene:	30 August 2023
Location:	Madripoor
Synopsis:	A hot welcome to Madripoor!
Cast of Characters:	Neena Thurman, Monet St. Croix, Raven Darkholme, Tabitha Smith

---

Neena Thurman has posed:
Madripoor. Its name conjures up images of the Old West, only in a Far-Eastern flair. It's a world in stark contrast with itself, featuring the Haves and the Have Nots. Dark and dismal on the mean streets, rich and vibrant on the streets of gold. And underlying it all can be summed up by one Shakespearean quote, 'Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown'. In other words?

It's a game of political hot potato.

X-Force has been asked, rather politely, for their specialized and unique aid in the matter of small uprisings that have burbled to the surface here and there. Coups that have failed, but as one is broken up, another finds its way to the surface and has to be quelled. All in all, as in all things, it becomes the 'devil you know'.

Domino has accepted the invitation on behalf of the mercenary group, full in the knowledge that there will absolutely be trappings and money (and maybe property) attached to the job, and its successful ending. From the time she'd taken it on to the moment their boots hit the tarmac, the albino merc has been bringing members here and there up on their tactics, the layout of the city's neighborhoods, and from whence aid may come if asked.

***

"This is Echo Romeo Victor Five-five," Domino sets the current C-130's callsign into the radio chatter upon approach to Madripoors airfield. "Approach is on 22, and if you would tell me where to stop this thing, I'd really appreciate it." So much for pilot speak!

"Echo Romeo Victor Five-five, we see you on the boards. Take 22L and taxi to the red-roofed hanger. The field is yours for the next thirty minutes for your welcome." The voice that comes over the radio is professional; probably trained in the US, or Canada or the UK, his voice a business-like tenor, complete with that hint of twang.

"Okay.." and the next few minutes has the antiquated (but still very functional) aircraft coming down over the water, dropping feet by the second until finally the wheels touch down (butter!). The C-130 taxis down the airstrip, slowing down for the turn off to the left and towards the red hanger.

***

"Okay, kiddies," Domino begins again, unstrapping herself from the seat and standing up. She stretches, arms up in the air with a long, deep breath before her arms drop to her sides once more. "Here's the deal. We go in, make nice, get whatever intel the prime minister might have," or is that president? Dictator? Who knows, who cares? ".. and we start our own searches. What they have may or may not be right."

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would shrug, "I inspected, it changed had roughly three weeks ago. I'm not sure if this individual is a figurehead, intermediary, or merely the last one to grab the largest top hat in the area and that instilled them over with leadership responsibilities." It's kind of easy to lose track of who is in charge and via what sort of hierarchy from time to time after all. Monet goes to hold her finger stogether as she would gaze out the window at their arrival.

And through the distance where there's a large skyscraper - one of the largest in Madripoor, and upon it a large dojo owned and operated by the Hand with floodlights going up into the air, occasionally flashing with malevolent demonic energies. Apparently being evil required you to have a corporate presence in major metropolitain areas, even for imllenia-ancient secret societies and pajama murder hobos.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
For the sake of involvement with X-Force, Mystique took a more tactical and military approach to her appearance. Although she remained her blue self, she wore black fatigues, combat boots, and even had her fiery red hair in a shorter style under the black flat top hat. Worn on each hip was a SIG P320, commonly known as the M17, weapons that she was intimately familiar with.

"Are we certain 'nice' is the correct approach?" she asks as she adjusts her belt, then a slight cant to her head as she looks to Domino. "Which building would you like me to sneak into and begin gathering intel? What computers am I hacking? Who am I pretending to be today?"

Tabitha Smith has posed:
Madripoor in summer, or even just the tail end of it. Humid, muggy and pretty awful even when you're in allegedly cushy Hightown.

Tabby spent most of the long flight napping with her earbuds in blasting some old eighties rock and metal.

The snoring probably wasn't fun for anyone else. But eventually the bounce of the aircraft setting down and the adjusting to air pressure wakes her up.

Black and not so bright yellow uniform. Mostly in the form of a leather-ish jacket and leggings. And yellow boots, a hint of red from her glasses lenses.

Switching from music playback to comms Tabby taps her earbuds and grabs an energy drink from a small cooler. At least she's not drinking yet.

"So define nice? Smiles and batted eyelashes, no honypots. Bribes, nutshots and swirlies?" she asks. "If it's still the same head douche in charge when we were prepping in the Danger Room, we can probably get away with a lot." she points out.

Neena Thurman has posed:
Domino is in her black leather suit, bristling with guns and a few knives hidden away in places where they could be found, assuming hands were still attached to the forearms. The stark contrast between white and black is in full play, and if one knew who she was, well... it wouldn't be hard to pick her out of a lineup.

On her feet, she's moving towards the back of the aircraft, and as the cargo door lifts up, the ramp begins its fold down. "It's the one from a couple of weeks ago, yeah. Costanza? Constiyenkov? Smith? I don't know." That should answer both M and Tabs, all in one fell swoop. Guess they'll find out?

Domino is slowing in order to exit with the rest of the team in a show of, well, force, and she nods at Mystique. "Military first, then we investigate, infiltrate, interrogate, and possibly inter." There's a pause in her step, blue eyes rising briefly as she considers what she'd just said. It's only a heartbeat, and Domino shrugs lightly as she takes the step from the aircraft and onto the tarmac. There's a wariness about her, however; any who know her can see it. A glance here, a shift of her posture there.. and the crooked, quirked smile that rises upon blackened lips.

There, beyond, at the hanger, is a contingent of guards surrounding a man in a dark suit. (Darn, it's hot, but .. it's a suit!). The man is smiling, though even from this distance it's easy to discern that it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would go to fold her hands together, "Of course. Whatever's the most.. Effective way to gather information. I'm sure that if it comes necessary, we can even /pay/ them for it." Going through proper channels in Madripoor seemed like such a dirty thing, even if there was sometimes on occasion something that almost passed for a legitimate operation within the pirate's cove.

She goes to take a moment to veil herself over mentally - as well as Tabitha. THe two of them would simply be rather ignorable. Unimportant, as if servants. The type whom would be away in a corner, not acknowledged, only spoken to if told to do so. Demure, pathetic, and entirely obedient. Monet knew well the type that a proper servant was supposed to be - she'd had quite a few of them after all.

So hopefully it works with as the group goes to depart and deploy that they'll mostly be ignored over and part of the background. After all, anyone with money had thier lessers, their inferiors, and whomever they wanted tod o things for them. It made for a rather good way to hopefully get in without being noticed if they needed a backup.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
For someone like Mystique infiltration is a specialty. She offered a single nod to Domino before moving to join the others in departing the plane. It was likely that the bluetant had other weapons on her as well, she was after all highly skilled in may forms of combat. One hundred and sixty years of life in a violent, mutant hating world had seen to that training.

"Monet, we already know how you best gather information," she offered with a coy smile and a slightly raised brow. "I on the other hand, well... I prefer the more stealthy methods and computer hacking. Admittedly, I may be hoping for just a touch of violence. It's been so long since I had justified violence available."

Tabitha Smith has posed:
At the most Tabby might have stashed some lockpicks and a multitool in her jacket. And some extra snacks. Padding doesn't do much to conceal things the way it molds to her figure. and utility belts do nothing to flatter her hips.

Not like she usually needs any guns, she brings plenty of ordnance already.

Tactics for information gather may have expanded for the blonde over the last year and a bit. "Telepathy, social, engineering, jumper leads to sensitive bodyparts. Whatever works. But Sometimes just being in the same room and waiting for dumbasses to just start talking shit works too. Bored people get sloppy sometimes. Soldiers too even!"

Neena Thurman has posed:
"I don't even pay for..." Domino pauses in her words, that quirked smile aimed at Monet for the briefest of seconds before she's back forward. "I'd feel dirty paying for info," she finishes quietly.

There, X-Force as it is moves forward, targets but not targets; some of their reputations precede them, after all.

Domino stops in her tracks about 20 feet away from the delegation headed by the 'guy in charge' and her jaw shifts every so slightly, her head dropping as clear blue eyes lock on the crew before them.

"Welcome, welcome," is effused by the current president, "I am President Alkhin. Welcome to Madripoor. I took the liberty of getting you rooms in the Sovereign Hotel. Once you are rested from your flight-..."

If anyone can hear, a high-pitched whine sounds from the middle distance, and a blur of light begins a fall to land square on the C-130 as it sits on the tarmac, followed by a BRIGHT yellow light and a *BOOOOOOM* that even Tabs would be proud of.

Shrapnel bursts in all direction, embedding bits and pieces of aircraft aluminum into items within a rather large diameter..

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would look over at Tabitha and then let out a sigh, "Who had eighty three seconds? One minute, twenty three seconds after touchdown. So whomever put down for a minute and a half or a minute and twenty seconds for when the first thing exploded not done by ourselves." Whose idea exactly the betting pool was - but Cable not being present had definitely skewed the number of wagers going in whatever direction.

The 'not caused by us first' had to be appended to due to the tendency of them /all/ to do it. Stealth /could/ mean 'everyone in the area was dead so they couldn't pin it on us' after all.

She goes to immediately lift up andinto the air, not worrying about hiding her abilities now that there was something hostile. She goes to speak to the otehrs in a telepathic link <<I'd assume drone strike. The rocket trail was too small to be that of a missile>> That and if it was a missile likely the explosive radius would have taken up half the runway and crippled all of them in the first place.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
The sound was something Mystique could feel throughout her body as well as hear, and was familiar enough that in an instant she was diving for cover and taking the nearest teammate with her. If she could have dragged them all behind something she would have, so she settled for whomever was closest.

"Damn," she mutters, spitting out a mouthful of awful tasting air from the explosion. Then replies with, "I was down for two minutes."

Now it was time to get serious, and immediately she started checking for every team mates location, and of course the location of the President and his delegation.

Tabitha Smith has posed:
While she's not a telekinetic, and despite being a telepath she only barely had enough time to react to whatever it was that exploded the aircraft they came in on.

She didn't even get to make a pun about the hotel rooms as she faceplants and maybe barely avoids shrapnel in uncomfortable places.

"Well it definitely wasn't me. That was our ride! I had brownies in there!" she laments that maybe they might have to fly commercial. Not that they will.

Looking to check if everyone is okay. as much visually as she is doing a telepathic sweep. More about Dom and Mystique, and maybe the President and his security detail. Over the comms she pipes up. "M, you see the thing flying around? Or we get us a remote Kamehamehazi?" she asks, switching to code abbreviations. Zippy ass drones are so annoying for taking out. Lead times are such a pain.

Neena Thurman has posed:
The heat of the explosion is something that is all too familiar, but at least this time it's at her back. The blast pushes Domino forward, and leaping into the air at that last push of secondary, she's spinning up and over, one of her guns out to provide some cover for Mystique. In the flames and smoke, however, there is very little to see. Landing on her shoulder in a roll, and gaining her feet quickly, there simply are no targets.

The aircraft is disintigrated, and their welcome committee isn't staying around, firmly in the belief that their 'welcome' had done its job.

"Son of a ..." Domino swears as she rejoins the others, head down, gun out and searching in vain through the acrid smoke.

*cough*

What Monet can see from her vantage in the time in the air was a portal opening.. and blinking out. Where it opens, there's no clear energy mark.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would go to call out quickly along the mental link <<Unknown teleporter withdrawing!>> She goes to share the location over of the portal, even as she also shares her irritation at not having anything useful from it.

<<Likely the shooter launched the projectile and then withdrew through it>> But that's not a guarantee after all. They could have been on the other end of the teleportal, fired the projectile through it, and then closed it once they'd seen the results.

She goes to quickly reconottir the rest of the area - at least the best that she could, flying higher - also being aware that made her more of a target as she swept for hostiles.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Rolling through and coming back up on to her feet, weapons drawn, Mystique growls something in German to herself before beginning the visual survey of the surrounding area. The explosion and smoke, that's on the other's to watch, for the bluetant though, she is looking every where else. Having worked with Blink in the past, and a few other teleporters, she knew how they tended to operate. If they were going to take a second attempt at the team or the President, it would come from another direction.

"My tactical opinion," she states firmly, not liking these odds at all. "That was a warning a shot, a 'look what we can do' sort if thing. There are other ways off this island, but taking out our plane shows that they knew we were coming, they are watching us right now, and they know what are basic plans are."

She continues to keep looking in the various directions, any movement, any sign of something there. "We need to get moving," she finally adds. "Monet, if you or Tabby would be kind enough to shield our minds, just in case."

Tabitha Smith has posed:
<<Portals? Ugh, I swear I'm like fifty fifty on teleporters I like!>> Tabby laments. <<That's gonna make things harder to track. And fight." she adds and picks herself up. With the welcome wagon ready to bail Boom-Boom looks back to the team, on the ground with her. "Between us we can shield as best we can. Think we're still good for that hotel suite?" she ponders and shrugs her shoulders.

As for the message about explosions and targeting us. "Possible they tracked our host. Didn't know we're mutants. If it's gonna be like that. Wait'll they get a load of me!" she smirks.

Neena Thurman has posed:
Monet is the 'eye in the sky', as it were, and as of right now? Not much to see other than that *blip* and, of course, the fiery wreckage that is the C-130 and Tabitha's brownies. (Very sad.)

Domino's experience with teleporters is admittedly less than Mystique's, and she's enough of a leader to defer to the blue mutant's thoughts on the matter. She does, however, agree-

"Let's get going. I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that they didn't actually get us that reservation. Or if they did, maybe it's not the best idea to actually go there." This is where the work in the Danger Room comes in handy there, Tabitha. Finding those back alley paths to somewhere safe!

Domino's more than happy to go on the move, her pistol set back in its holster. When she needs it, it'll be there...

"I agree," the albino merc grouses. "Either they shot their load too late and missed their actual target, that is, us, or it's a statement, I don't know. Either way, I think we're getting the message." As to who //sent// it, however?

It could be that the President's team departed to keep the leader safe...

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would let out a sigh over, "Very well then. And it looked like a small rocket. The type that has to be fired at something relatively stationary. It didn't have the power trail to be an SAM or a mortar. If we were the target they could have taken us when the plane landed and before we had come off. A drone would have been simpler to target over at el presidente if he was the target. No, this was to send a message."

Also 'el presidente' couldn't have been the target. It's not like any leader in Madripoor lasted long enough to keep the job very long (or that realized they wanted to keep the job).

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Even as they are moving, Mystique holsters one gun to to reach into a pouch and pull out an earpiece. Once the thing is fitted into her ear, she pulls the gun again.

"I can get us to a safe house," she offers, then starts speaking in what sounds like Klingon through the earpiece. She can't use the Brotherhood's connections for X-Force work, but thankfully she doesn't have to. She has her own contacts, her own money, and her own safe houses around the world.

"My usual thinking is to err on the side of caution and trust no one. My assets are at the teams disposal."

Tabitha Smith has posed:
Back alleys and side streets have their uses. Fist things first is to get too them and not stick around on the smoking remains of their aircraft out in the open. The lack of accommodations gets a pout. "Aww, and I was looking forward to a pedi/mani. Now I gotta paint my own toenails again!"

Her fingernails never get painted but there's a reason for that. Engulfing your hands in plasma tends to burn off any polish.

Expensive.

"I've been homeless enough a night or two in a dumpster isn't gonna kill me. M maybe, but we might as well start hoofing it." she states though she does keep a playful chuckle. "Phrasing needs to be in the rotation Mystique.