4215/The Brotherhood of Evil Doughnuts

The Brotherhood of Evil Doughnuts
Date of Scene:	24 November 2020
Location:	Hole-In One Donuts
Synopsis:	Mystique hunts down Quentin Quire, Quentin Quire reveals he knew she'd probably come, she reveals that she knew he knew she'd come, and they come to an understanding.
Cast of Characters:	Quentin Quire, Raven Darkholme

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Quentin Quire has posed:
With his stunt to gain the attention of the X-Men over with, Quentin Quire has mostly spent the rest of the day wandering around Westchester, getting to know the place. Right now, after his stunt earlier in the day, he's decided to have some doughnuts.

He sits at a table in Hole-In One Donuts, eating a large plate of doughnuts at a table by himself. He doesn't look like someone who'd normally be eating so much food, but he doesn't seem particularly concerned with other people staring either.

Given his stunt today, creating an omega level telepathic shockwave, pretty much anyone on the planet with access to a telepath knows he's in this area right now.

But that's also something he anticipated.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique had a telepath or two in her pocket, some in places other people might not have expected. One of them informed her of the psychic shockwave and gave her a tip. And, well, Quentin isn't perhaps the m ost subtle of individuals.

Raven walks in wearing the shape of a slim Asian girl with razor-cut bangs and blue hair, a studded leather jacket and fingerless gloves. She looks around at hte mostly blue collar locals with a bit of casual disgust, then lets her eyes linger on Quentin for a moment before she says in flawless Mandarin, perfectly aware the psion will understand any language she uses.<<You don't look like a kid to me.>>

Quentin Quire has posed:
<<You don't look like an Asian girl to me.>> Quentin shoots back telepathically, biting into a simple glazed doughnut as the chair across from him suddenly pulls out, as if inviting her to sit.

<<This seems like the part where everyone I just informed I'm alive starts showing up to become examples.>> he mentally says in part observation, part threat. The way he talks telepathically, at least to her, is pretty aggressive, like someone expecting mental blocks and giving the rather threatening promise of potential psionic brain drilling.

He is not a kind telepath.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
She has blocks, no doubt, but they're hard to read, more elusive than defensive. Like trying to grasp an eel with your bare hands.

She thinks back at him even as she moves to take a seat at a nearby booth, blowing on the coffee she ordered and beginning to load it up with sugar.

<<Let's not stereotype. I look precisely like an Asian girl. South Korean, in fact. I saw her once in a downtown market for American goods, the kind of pop-up shop that isn't paying taxes. She was a beautiful girl who could make lights with her mind and, when she got excited by a skirt she really, liked, she began to glow. That's before they stabbed her to death in the alley, of course. I was a little too late. But at least I made sure they paid.>>

In English, she says aloud, "Hello, Quentin Quire. If you have any sense, you know who I am already. The question you should ask is why I'm here and what I want with you."

Quentin Quire has posed:
<<I was being figurative.>> Quentin states in his effortlessly condescending tone. He frowns at her story, but doesn't comment on it one way or another. It visibly bothers him, from the look on his face, though it's hard to tell which part.

"I know who you are already because one, there's particular people I expected to show up after what I did, and two, it would take some time to dig around your telepathic blocks to learn more, but I can at least tell who you are." He pushes his plate of doughnuts back, then crosses his arms and sits back, staring at her with a look of boredom. "You're Mystique and I'm an omega level mutant. Only an idiot wouldn't know what you want."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
"Which only means that we've determined you're not an idiot. Which is pleasing. I would've been disappointed."

"Because you're not an idiot, I'm sure you're aware of the current, precarious state of affairs. Mutantkind trembling on the precipice of a new age, with the mob of human villagers beneath ready to drive us out with pitchfork and torch. I already know you like attention, your little stunt makes that clear. I'm sure it would flatter you to have me come and make a pitch and stroke your pretty pink ego a bit," she says.

"But you already know we're on the right side of history. The revolution is inevitable. THe fall written in the stars. I've known a few oracle in my day, they all say the same. Where do you want to be when the walls fall, Mr. Quire?"

Quentin Quire has posed:
"I can literally physically assert my ego onto reality and sapient minds. I can create a gun with my ego." Quentin holds his hand up and forms a pink revolver in it, before he allows it to vanish in a small poof of pink light. "My ego is probably one of the most powerful things on the planet. So yeah, you should stroke my ego, because my id is something I mostly hold back with therapy coping mechanisms, and my super-ego was largely formed by being a hypercognitive genius, living in Genosha, and then seeing everything I knew die and burn to the ground."

"That is to say, my ego has been in a bad mood for a very long time." He takes a deep breath, pushing his glasses up with pink telekinetic energy. "But I have plans, and a sexy blue mutant revolutionary unfortunately doesn't quite fit them. Well, you //could// fit into my plans, but I don't think they're the plans you came here for."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique sighs softly, "Ah, yes, ego. I have seen so much of it, from so many gifted mutants. Mostly men, which should hardly surprise you. As you said, you're not an idiot," she says.

She takes a long sip of her coffee, "I usually come in when your plans fail. I pick you up, I wipe your mouths, I show you how to do it better. You're very, very young and it is inevitable that you will fuck up, probably in a spectacular way. I hope that you survive, so that I can clean you up and make someone useful of you. I had hoped we could skip that with you, since you are so very, very bright, but the world likes to run in well-worn treads."

"Out of curiosity, how would I fit into -your- plans?"

Quentin Quire has posed:
"I look forward to the day where I fuck up and we bang to heal my wounds. But anyway, my plans..." Quentin pulls the telepathic gun right back out, then fires it at her head, quite literally drilling his ego through layers of blocks until she opens her eyes and they're standing in the middle of Manhattan.

Instead of his leather jacket, he's wearing an expensive burgundy suit with a long brown coat over that, for the winter. He's standing in front of a hotdog truck with her next to him.

She'll find herself distinctly blue, in her normal, most true form, and he offers a hotdog over to her.

Everything around them, the smells, the way people interact and talk to each other, birds in the air, the weather, the chill on her skin... "Welcome to my mind. Easier to explain my plans here. I decided that I'd actually give you a serious answer."

She's likely been in a telepathic mindscape before, but this is like someone created an entire simulation of a planet in their own mind, where each person around them seems to have a mind of their own. There are in fact no real signs that they are in a mindscape, for all she knows they teleported to Manhattan. Except... The Time's Square ads have numerous notable mutants in various celebrity roles, there's some video playing where Magneto is the President of the United States giving an address, there are openly ads for mutant products.

This is not the real world.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique is impressed, although she still keeps it close to her vest. If only because she's sure it would only bloat him further in regards to ego. "I never said anything about that," she says in regards to his proposed scenario of her healing him.

She eats the hot dog idly, "Probably less dangerous than a real one. I did some undercover work in meat plants once upon a time. Nothing pretty," she says. She hops up on top of a city mailbox, crossing her legs and lighting a cigarette since he's taking the time to let her indulge. "You give good simulacrum, I'll give you that."

Quentin Quire has posed:
"Variables, Mystique. You haven't caught up to the whole genius thing yet, have you?" Quentin asks while raising his legs to cross them in the air, floating there as he talks to her in this, at least for him, more relaxed setting. "What you'll give is a lot smaller to you than what you want. You don't have to say anything, is my point."

"Anyway... My plan is to tear down anti-mutant sentiment, and that means hunting down every person who is or is going to contribute to the destruction of our kind, and stopping whatever plan they have going on." He points his hotdog at her. "Where you fit into that are a series of political long cons. I've pinpointed a few notable government figures throughout the world, people with anti-mutant sentiment who, over time, which I predicted by calculating micro variables, will gain actual political power to oppress us further. What I'd need you to do is disrupt those variables and ruin their lives, without killing them."

"I'm trying to get in with the X-Men, so I can't send a hit squad to kill half the planet. But doing it this way will do more for the long-term health of mutantkind. Exposing and humiliating these people rather than making them martyrs." He gives her a moment to process all of this, finishing his hotdog and popping the tab of a black cherry soda. "I know, you're impressed and find all of this ridiculously attractive. I told you, I know variables."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique listens with a placid expression that gives away nothing, of course. Mystique invented the poker face, able to detach her emotions entirely with relative ease, her sultry and sinister expression taking in the boy genius and his convoluted plan.

"I'm impressed at the scope and the concept. Skeptical of the execution and results. Would that be fair to see? Grandiose plans can be easy to post on your Tumblr page, but manipulating others isn't always as easy as mind-controlling them to think as you please. BUT...I am certainly subscribing to your newsletter. You have my attention."

Quentin Quire has posed:
"That's the thing, my plan is a meta plan. It's a series of smaller plans that could succeed or fail, but the meta plan itself, the salvation of mutantkind, revenge for Genosha, these are the parts of my plan that won't fail, regardless of how badly anyone screws it up." Quentin places his feet on the ground again, walking up to her, entering her personal space.

"You can have your Brotherhood of Evil Mutants, I'm not really interested in it. I have my own X-Men plans, like I said. All I care about is //you// being on Team Quentin. Follow my plans, advance mutantkind." He peers into her yellow eyes from behind the yellow lenses of his glasses, then smiles rather arrogantly. "Did you ever ask yourself why a hypercognitive genius would create a telepathic shockwave that could be felt across the world, after spending a year pretending to be dead?"

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique laughs softly, "Do you mean, did I th ink you did it on purpose? Of course you did it on purpose. Not only on behalf of your plan, but because you like attention, because you enjoy shocking people. You are very certain of yourself, which means nothing, because every man with a world changing plan is certain of their success. You don't need to convince me because you can't, but that doesn't mean I won't help. I won't be following orders, but if you ask for my help, I will help, if it's within my power. But as you note, I have my own agenda to follow and I won't be at your beck and call anymore than you'll be at mine."

Quentin Quire has posed:
"Sounds like the level of success I probably could have hoped for." Quentin says without any real disagreement or argument, then sips his soda.

He allows some awkward silence to hang, then yawns. "You know, banging in a mindscape doesn't count." he suggests, taking another sip of soda while trying to read her expression.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique takes a long drag of her cigarette and drops it to the ground, "Why would I care what counts and what doesn't?" she says, sliding off her seat and bustling her way past him into the crowd...