Difference between revisions of "9565/Right On Track"

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|Synopsis=Members of the Justice League Dark gather in an impromptu shawarma dinner to receive some interesting information about Saint Michael.
 
|Synopsis=Members of the Justice League Dark gather in an impromptu shawarma dinner to receive some interesting information about Saint Michael.
 
|Cast of Characters=339,598,3714,605,3364
 
|Cast of Characters=339,598,3714,605,3364
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|Tinyplot=Path of Glory
 
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Revision as of 07:50, 21 January 2022

Right On Track
Date of Scene: 10 January 2022
Location: Midtown
Synopsis: Members of the Justice League Dark gather in an impromptu shawarma dinner to receive some interesting information about Saint Michael.
Cast of Characters: Terry O'Neil, Clarice Ferguson, Patience Alperen, Raven Darkholme, Jonathan Sims
Tinyplot: Path of Glory


Terry O'Neil has posed:
Cheshire Cat Arrival: Imminent.

Shortly after interviewing Michael, Terry bee-lined (rabbit holed) to the Planet to write his article and get it published as breaking news. The fact that he was able to do it can be attributed solely to a combination of caffeine and overwhelming dread and anxiety.

Not terribly different from the everyday working conditions when you happen to be a cub reporter under Lois "I Don't Take The Stairs I Fall Out Of Windows" Lane.

As soon as the interview and the video hit the web, though, he started getting a barrage of messages. Religious institutions. Religious nuts. His mother ('You interviewed WHAT?'). But aside from a quick text to his mother and his friends, there was someone else he needed to see. Because something very important had been cut from that interview. And somebody needed to know it-

And that was the Justice League Dark.

He sent the message that he was coming, and to please not shoot him because he left his bulletproof vest in his other body. Five minutes after that message (to allow for the knowledge to be spread around), a Rabbit Hole opens up in Grand Central. Grand Central, with its distinctive architecture and landmark status. Heavily fortified in anticipation of what's to come.

And the Cheshire Cat steps through the Rabbit hole, carrying far too many bags, and every single one of them exuding the seductive, delicious fragrance that be only one thing:

Shawarma.

"Come and get it!"

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice has been hard at work, moving supplies and people to and from the Triskelion, and other supply points - as well as helping move the slowing trickle of refugees. The numbers were more manageable - at least it wasn't like having to hold the portal open as an entire train ran through, and connected precisely with the tracks on the other side. She'd slept for twelve hours straight in a corner of the station after that one.
    At the moment, the magenta-hued woman with electric green pupil-less eyes was watching as some people in SHIELD uniforms moved back and forth through a portal, moving carts filled with supplies. "You've got about thirty seconds until I close this portal and take a breather," she warms.
    ...Cheese on bread, that smells good. Where was //that// spell coming from? Her gaze flicks towards Terry, her expression hopeful.

Patience Alperen has posed:
    Patience is, at the moment, living up to her namesake. Or trying to. It became obvious where the resistance was setting up shop. And while she hasn't had a chance to make real use of the card that Jon left her, she's shown up here as well, if for no other reason then to try and assist. She's sitting idly on the floor, back against the wall, knees pulled up a bit. A bluish crystal is in her hands, shaped like an arrowhead, and she turns it over and over, considering it.

    And then there's someone mentioning food. Food would be a good idea. She's learned in the last few days how painfully overspecialized her training was. So she stands, following the smell over to the new arrival with the bags. "Is it for everyone?" she asks, softly.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
The portal that opens is swirling white, no indication of what's on the other wise. The first person through is carrying a large crate of supplies, the next through is Mystique in all her cobalt beauty. She's dressed in white coveralls and also carrying a crate of supplies. As other step through she directs them off to the location of the supplies they are carrying, and when at laest the teleporter herself, Ritz, steps through, the crate she is carrying is passed to her allowing Mystique to look around.

Spotting Clarice, she starts walking toward her though she is keeping her attention on those around here. Let's face it, there was a good chance someone would try to shoot her and she wasn't taking the chance of being shot without seeing it coming.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon comes up the stairs from further down in the complex--the place covers 48 acres, and it is a testament to Red Sentinel's tireless dedication that it's fortified and safe for those gathering--with an earbud in one ear, the wire connected to his phone, at which he's staring avidly. He's wearing black fatigues and a tac vest with a multitude of pockets, lanyard around his neck, SHIELD badge pinned to the vest, rank pins clearly visible. The only reason he doesn't look like every other spook in the place, down to the ICER on one hip, is the ankh-topped staff, collapsed to the size of a baton, he wears on the other. Really, plenty of SHIELD agents have glasses and a half-distracted air about them. Evidently he's not bothering to hide his affiliations any longer.

    He keeps scrolling something on the phone back and forth, frowning, stopping in his path and muttering to himself, tabbing it back, taking a few more steps. Once or twice he runs a hand through his hair and mutters about grabbing a pen. Whatever he's looking at, it's riveting, and clearly driving him /just/ a little bonkers.

    A few steps beyond the stairs he stops, and looks up, frowning. "...Is that shawarma?" Evidently that will cut through even the mad mutterings of an Archivist.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"It is, indeed, shawarma, and it is for everyone- I figured I would bring some life-living grub."

There is another Rabbit Hole all of a sudden, and a gesture from the Cheshire cat that sends a wave of chaos magic through it. A few seconds later, his dining room table comes through, moving each leg like some sort of ridiculous pachyderm, and settles down in front of them. The feline puts the bags on the table. "Eat up, I also have some kefir in there- rose petal and mango only, I'm afraid."

He glances around at the different members of the league, and gives them each a small smile- not his megawatt Cheshire grin, due to the circumstances. "I see a few of you I haven't had the chance to formally meet..." a glance at Patience and Mystique, "others I've had a chance to fight beside but not much chance to talk to..." at Clarice- that part had been mosty his fault, because he ended up leaving the Shi'ar attack with a hole in his stomach and a desperate need of Phoebe's healing magic, "And..." he glances at Jon, briefly. "Others that. Well. Glitter."

He clears his throat and gestures, "But serve yourselves. This is the best shawarma in Metropolis. The one in Manhattan is... well. You know. Closed. For now."

He rubs his chin, "So... I sort of... interviewed Michael."

Patience Alperen has posed:
    Patience can't help but boggle a bit at the moving table. "Deus mei in caelum." she says, quietly, before looking back up. "Nice to meet you. My name is Patience. Bless you for the food." She'll move over to a bag, and take out one of the rolled pita-and-meat concoctions. She closes her eyes, says something quiet, and then lifts it to her lips to take a bite.

    And then nearly drops it in shock. "You...interviewed Lord Michael?"

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Five, four, three, two, one..." Clarice closes her portal with an audible sigh of relief, turning to see Mystique - and a short distance behind her, Ritz. Good. //Perfect// - she was exhausted. "Boss, hey - someone brought food," she says - managing some cheer as she makes her way towards the walking table.
    She's not even going to comment on the walking table. Look, some things you just got to accept.
    She does stumble briefly on a discarded bit of packaging from one of the crates, frowning at it before she turns her attention back to her boss. "How're things on the Asteroid? The boys aren't causing trouble, are they?" She'd imagine they weren't but- well. She was hardly around enough for the last week to be sure.
    "What did the holy stick-up-the-ass have to say for himself?" she asks of Terry.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
The supplies offered from the Brotherhood are carried off to the places they need to be, no words offered, just more crates of things offered in the war against heaven. Mystique relies on Ritz to make sure they get where they are needed as she reaches Clarice. That's when she watches a table walk through a portal, and just... blinks. That was a thing to add to the list of never having seen before. A hundred and forty one years, she had never seen a table walking.

"Ritz will be taking your place Clarice," she offers after shaking off the surprise over pachyderm table. "Smells like shawarma, but I'll let others get to it first. Eddie will be bringing down a mass of fritters and waffles in the morning, as well as gallons of coffee."

She pauses for a moment, yellow eyes once again scanning around the area. "It's crowded, we've had a couple of security issues, but nothing major and no one has been spaced." She was joking about that last part, right? "I'll expect you to check in with Hathaway, then get some sleep when you get back."

Now those yellow eyes settle on Terry. He interviewed his holiness asshat, that's impressive really, but she doesn't know him so she'll just offer a smile and a nod.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I noticed!" Jon says, his entire face lighting up. He /beams/ at Terry and starts talking about a mile a minute. "It was brilliant! I hadn't even /thought/ of that framing, Original Sin I mean, that /is/ sort of what's going on here, right? And your point about unity, it got me thinking that perhaps the answer isn't /unity/ at all, whatever Gaea said, perhaps that's the wrong translation... although does Gaea... well, whatever, never mind, the /point/ is, I think maybe /harmony/ is the right answer, not everyone being the /same/ but embracing our /differences/ and coming together to make something grander than we are separately." He puts his hands up and laces the fingers together, which is difficult given that one of them is still holding his phone.

    "But I had a question--oh, hello, Patience, good to see you!--about umm, there's this spot in the video, it's honestly driving me batty, which I'm prone to I'll grant you but, umm, there's a /glitch/, there's something missing, and it's just... I can't figure out what it is." He looks around, obviously still distracted. "Hello, Raven, Clarice, nice to see you again, sorry, I'm a bit, umm, down a rabbit hole as it were." He doesn't even really know what a good pun that is, just now.

    He must have read the article the moment it dropped and went straight to the video, to have so many questions in such a short time. And the walking table doesn't even rank at 100 on the list of 'weirdest things he's seen this week.'

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry is friends with Impulse. He is dating Beast Boy. You would think he is perfectly familiar with someone speaking at a thousand miles per hour. "Whoa, whoa, slow down Jo- wait, RAVEN? WHERE?"

The feline turns around and glances over his shoulder. He did not put it past the daughter of Trigon to suddenly show up to glare over his shoulder. But no... she is not there. All too late does he realize he is speaking to someone else, and he clears his throat. "Sorry. Sorry... yes, Patience- lovely to meet you - I did... interview Michael." At Clarice's colorful language, he raises his eyebrows and actually smiles a little, "... I think anything up his butt is far too much fun for him to actively consider, I'm afraid. But Jon... take a breath."

He doesn't take any food for himself, letting the others go first. "There was a glitch in the video, because Michael paused time to speak to me." He shrugs, "I... have no idea /why/ he decided to apparently reveal a secret of the cosmos to me but not to the camera. But in the minute or two that the camera wasn't recording, he told me something... well."

He crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow, "For starters, apparently Michael was the one who created the universe. Or, well, one of /two/ who did this. At the behest of The Father. Michael created all matter, and another was supposed to create everything into its individual components."

He pauses, for effect. Or to take a sip from the water bottle he carries with him. Take your pick. "Michael claims that it was the /other/ one who 'tainted' things and introduced the flaw into the universe. The one he spoke about in my interview."

Patience Alperen has posed:
    Patience looks a little horrified at "holy stick-up-the-ass", and then looks about. Pink woman. Blue woman. Walking table. She gives a long sigh, and takes a step back, holding her shawarma. "I am in so far over my head." She sighs. She looks over to Jon, and will give a nod when he greets her. "A pleasure." She has just a bit of "deer in the headlights" to the eyes, though she's forcing a smile.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice can see the horror in the young woman's eyes - and she simply beams at her, helping herself to the food and digging in without hesitation. She needs to replenish her energy after all her hardwork. At least she remembers to chew her food and swallow it before answering Mystique with, "Go see the doc. Check, shall do, boss. ...thanks for bringing Ritz. I was on my last legs."
    Her attention goes to Lydia's friend next, studying him before she remarks, "I think someone needs to switch you over to decaf."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique, aka Raven, lightly folds her arms across her chest to just listen to the speed at which Jon spills out the words from his head. He was more impressive in her office a couple weeks ago, but with everything that was going on, and him right in the middle of it, he seemed to be handling it pretty well.

Turning, she offers a hand to Terry with a polite, "I'm Mystique, or you may call me Raven, nice table, pleased to meet you." And then, hand taken and shook or not, she offers it to Patience with the same smile. New faces, introductions were required.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon stares at Terry at 'paused time' and drops right into a chair at the table, mouth agape. "Oh, good lord," he whispers. Slowly the agitated air about him fades as Terry explains, and he finally manages to grab some shawarma and rose water kefir.

    "I'd heard some of this... but... he can /pause time/?! Good lord," he repeats. Glowers at Clarice. "I /knew/ there was /something/ wrong with the video. I could tell, there's a... a glitch, in the way he moves, it was bothering... well, the Archivist, really. It's fine, now. Mystery solved."

    He looks around at the others. "This is, ahh... all rather par for the course, I'm afraid." He smiles at Patience, sympathetically. "We're all in over our heads, but we'll manage. I think we have a pamphlet... somewhere." He reaches up to rub at the bridge of his nose, pushes up his glasses, gestures to Terry. "Please, go on."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"We all are, indeed, way over our heads, Patience." The Cheshire cat grins at her, "This is so much crazy stuff to absorb even for me... and I'm from Wonderland, where craycray is as common as pie."

Terry immediately shakes Raven's hand and gives her a grin, "Oh, it's nice to meet you! I know another Raven-- she's, well. Intense." Which explains his reaction earlier. His ears twitch at Patience, "Was that Latin you muttered earlier? Just... curious!"

Turning his attention to Jon, the cat nods. "So he claims that he doesn't /really/ understand the mind of God. It is unfathomable to him. He is aloof. Beyond the understanding were his words. And he delegates the caretaking of the universe to other beings, like Michael. As I understand it, he doesn't receive any /direct/ communications from God, so his understanding of his will could very well be bubpkis. In fact, his entire conception of 'the flaw' might be bupkis as well. But we can't really know for sure..." he shrugs.

"Unless we find... and talk to the /other/ one and try to piece the full story together. Was it God who actually cast him out, or was it Michael? Is Michael working from hubris, believing himself full of certainty on the knowledge of the will of God? More importantly... where /can/ we find The Other One? You know... The Morningstar. Lucifer. Whatever."

Patience Alperen has posed:
    Patience is still clearly trying to figure out how to deal with Clarice's blasphemy, but then there's suddenly a more pressing issue, the blue woman there offering her hand. She can't help it, her eyes sweep up and down Mystique, the sense being that she's looking for some kind of horns or tail. The inspection takes no more than a second though, before she takes the offered hand. "I'm sorry. I've never met anyone who was blue before."

    "And I thought things were strange enough from what I am used to." Patience answers to Jon. "I would very much like to see the pamphlet." Yes, she took him seriously. Terry gets a wide-eyed look at that. "Wonderland? As in Mr. Dodgson's work? And yes, Latin." Her answers seem mostly on automatic, but then the conversation in general leads her to add "One would expect, Hell. And I am not surprised that Michael does not have direct orders. Those would come through the Metatron to others from the Almighty."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice claims one of the mango kefirs, as she beams at Jon, seemingly unperturbed by his glower. In fact, she mouths 'decaf' at him again, before sipping at her kefit. "Mmmm. This is //good,// thank you!"
    "So - how do you fight a being that can literally pause time? I mean speedsters are bad enough, but- seriously?
    "Wait - you're talking about... Satan? The devil? Is that someone you can just... //talk to//?" she ask in a dubious voice.
    Then under her breath to Terry she adds, "Trust me - this Raven's pretty intense, too."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Both hand shakes aren't hard, they are merely hand shakes. Mystique doesn't need to prove anything to anyone. Patience's comment however, makes the cobalt woman grin broadly.

"I'm a mutant," she says with pride. "Blue is my natural color, feel free to ask questions."

Now she collects something from the table, she has no idea what it is, but she won't be rude and not accept the offered food. "Morningstar," she says to Clarice. "He has many names really, but if Michael is as real as he is, then clearly Lucifer Morningstar is just as real."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon frowns as he mulls things over, picking up his pita and shawarma. "I've spoken to him, actually," he says thoughtfully. "Lucifer Morningstar. I can't share most of it, he showed up for a therapy session, but he says the problem isn't with him at all. That free will just... /is/. And before you ask, I'm rather inclined to believe it really was him--the water I used to burn Michael's wing was cursed by him." It's a quiet statement, said without pride. It was a thing he had to do, so he did it.

    He lets out a long breath. "Given that Lucifer is rather pointedly /not/ a player in the game, I'm not very focused on him--but if you'd like to speak to him, maybe get a competing interview, I can give you his contact information. Good luck though. He's 'on vacation.'" He makes air quotes with his fingers. "Incidentally, I'm happy to give you one myself, as 'Gaea's Champion.'" A sigh. "You know, the /actual/ rebuttal to Michael's... statements. Since Gaea isn't here to speak for Herself."

    He looks over to Patience. "Hmm... the Metatron spoke to one of our number, actually. But... didn't claim to be speaking directly for the Presence? I wonder if she can get it to come back...?" He shakes his head. "I... am inclined to believe Michael is indeed the problem here, but more information is always good. The interview is certainly a /gold mine/ for my psychological profile. Definite control issues, and this bit with the Presence being absent makes me think... perhaps trying to control his environment due to an underlying insecurity...?" He scrunches up his nose. "Mmm. Not certain that fits. /Insecurity/ is the wrong term. An inability to accept disorder, but that's a tautology..."

    Yes, he's really trying to psychoanalyze an archangel.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry chuckles at Patience's puzzlement, "Wonderland, the very same." He points to himself with both thumbs, "The Cheshire Cat, at your service, ma'am... I thought that was latin. I remember it from catholic school."

Why did the Cheshire Cat go to Catholic school?

Hey, that sounds like the beginning of a good joke. Someone, quick! make it one!

"I know all sorts of multicolored folks. My boyfriend is green. And I know all sorts of awesome mutants- my acrobatics instructor is blue, too! And he has the coolest of accents..."

But now the discussion trails into things theological, and he is on a roll. "Satan indeed, Clarice. He must be somewhere, out there..."

And then, before Terry can break out into a number from An American Tail, Jon just goes and /says it/.

"Wait. Wait. What. Hold on... does he... does he own a nightclub?" he asks, and flips his hand, palm-upwards, where a perfect likeness of Lucifer appears, drawn from the Cheshire cat's memory, "And does he look like /this/? Because if it is... holy sh--- shimmies, I borrowed a book from that guy!"

Patience Alperen has posed:
    Patience looks over to Clarice. "You can. But you should not. He's called the Prince of Lies for a reason. To try that is to open the door to corruption and temptation, and most people cannot resist a will as strong as his." Mystique, on the other hand, gets one of the questions that, come on, most people are thinking it and just too tactful to say it. "Were you born blue?"

    "The Metatron, traditionally, has always been the liaison between God and those who are not capable of conceptualizing his communication." And then Jon drops his bombshell. "You have spoken to Lucifer." She pinches the bridge of her nose. "Carissime deus, quid ingressus sum?" The words are soft, and mostly under her breath. She rallies in time to respond to Terry. "They have Catholic school in Wonderland?" Yep. Her brain is breaking.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "I was born..." Clarice gestures to herself, and her vibrant magenta skin town and hair, her eyes - a pair of solid green orbs, and her pointed, elven ears. "Makes life more interesting. And I never said I was going to go looking for Satan - apparently we leave that sort of thing to Dr. Sims," she remarks between bites, leaning in to study the image portrayed on Terry's hand.
    "I Didn't know you could do that. That's pretty neat," she remarks. "Could you make one of Mystique, only-" She glances at her boss, and stops abruptly, other than adding, "Shutting up now," with a mischeivous sparkle to her eyes.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique has to take a moment, not because it was a hard question, but rather she was deciding precisely how to answer it... what parts to say. There was more to it for her than yes or no, though that would in fact answer the question.

"I was born a normal looking human child to human parents," she finally says. "Then around my twelfth birthday I began to turn blue, my hair changed, and then my father tried to kill me because I was a freak and monster. I managed to escape, but he's not the only human who has tried to kill me for being different."

The question was answered, and a part of her history that she rarely shared was presented. Perhaps by sharing, people would begin to understand why she has a problem with humans, and why... after a hundred and thirty years, she was trying to move past it.

Yellow eyes shift to Clarice, one red brow lifting slightly. "Alright Clarice, finish that sentence because I'm dying to know what you were about to say." There is something in her tone, both playful and yet at the same time challenging her.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Yes, Terry," Jon says as the guise appears, "That is him. And I did not go /looking/ for him, Clarice. He /showed up/ at my office. Literally /immediately/ before I was to question the suspect in a series of killings in Hell's Kitchen--who happened to be an angel possessing a member of the Justice League Dark." He glowers. "Perhaps it's not on Lucifer that he arrived there just in time to give me the bottle of bale water that allowed me to reveal Michael's true name, thus allowing our attempted exorcism to go /better/ for him and release him--and directly leading to the sacrifice that sealed my current fate. I would, in fact, /doubt/ it was him. But somebody was meddling and I'm not happy with it."

    He sighs, and looks around. "Perhaps I should... explain. The, ahh, the position I hold... it was originally created to keep powerful, immortal beings in check. Created by Gaea, in the guise of Neith, an Egyptian goddess. To my way of thinking, Michael and Lucifer and the Metatron and all the rest are... I don't know how to explain it, precisely? Yes, alright, they created the universe--so? I have no right to be cruel to my child, nor harm her, though I am directly responsible for her existence. Nor does a King or President have any right to kill their subjects or citizens with impunity. Lucifer is a creature of chaos now, yes--but the power of the Void does more harm to angels than Hellfire, or at least more permanently." He frowns, shifts uncomfortably.

    "I suppose what I mean is... most people see Heaven as inherently good and Hell as inherently evil. I see two parts of a flawed system, out of balance. Out of harmony. In Egypt, we have /ma'at/ and /isfet/. Though I serve Ma'at--the concept, and the goddess--I recognize that /isfet/ is... necessary. We do not pay lip service to the concept; we recognize that without chaos there cannot be order. Without disharmony there cannot be harmony. What we seek is to resolve the disharmony into harmony, not banish it completely. So... to my mind Lucifer is not evil because evil /does not exist/. Lucifer is out of harmony, perhaps--but perhaps not. Perhaps he's precisely what he /should/ be. Michael? He makes my teeth ache like a badly calibrated tuning fork. Something is /off/ somewhere."

    He's explaining, perhaps, mostly for Patience, though glad to give the explanation to the others. Trying to explain how he sees things.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"The point where I take umbrage, and which I couldn't really go into in my article without... you know, divulging a cosmic secret, is that /someone/ apparently fuc--" he glances at Patience, then back at Jon, "Futterwacked up in the creation of the universe. And instead of punishing the creators for doing a terrible job, they are going full Karen and taking it out on those who had no hand in it." The Cheshire cat purses his lips, "I went in my human guise. I didn't want to risk getting to Michael /that/ close in my Cheshire self, or I might still be tripping balls next month."

He glances at Patience, and chuckles, "I'm ... it's a little complicated. Half of me is human and mortal, half of me is the Cheshire Cat. But I'm also the Cheshire Cat-- it's complicated."

He frowns and glances at Raven, and shakes his head quietly. Too many stories like that. They set his blood boiling.

"I didn't know it was /the/ Lucifer. I thought that was just a stage name. He gave me a book of spells to use to track down my doppelganger from when... you know. ALL OF THAT happened," he waves a hand. It was in the summer. Now it feels like a whole decade away, "I didn't end up using it, though. Raven- our Raven- convinced me that using a book of spells from someone called Lucifer was a bad idea. So I was going to return it, but I had to stop by my cousin's apartment... Harley- Harley Quinn- is her roomie, and she saw the book and thoguht it was just one of those table top roleplaying games with a flavor section, and she read a spell..."

He waves a hand, "So for the next hour, we fought off a horde of possessed evil murder dolls. It was fun. I returned the book as soon as we were done." He pauses and frowns. "I'm sorry. I just had a Back In Saint Olaf moment. What were we talking about?"

Patience Alperen has posed:
    "I'm sorry. I've never met a mutant before. I've...been a little sheltered, I think." She gives a nod to Mystique. "I can see why some people would react that way. I'm sorry that they did." She worked for exactly the kind of people who would have hunted Mystique down. She listens to Jon's assessment, and then shakes her head slowly. "I'm sorry, Jon. Evil is real. Demons are real. I've fought them. They are malefic, and they want nothing more than the painful death and corruption of human souls. Perhaps not /all/ are that...but evil definitely exists."

    She looks over to Terry at his explanation. "Well, I'm pleased you had a good education. Though...people here seem to have FAR too much truck with Lucifer. In general."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Honestly, I was thinking a little image of you in clown make-up and a clown costume would be pretty hilarious, boss," Clarice answers Mystique with a grin. "I wouldn't want to go any worse than that - or we might not be on speaking terms afterwards, and- well. That'd be bad."
    Looking to Jon, the woman mouths 'decaf' again between bites of her food, though she listens to the conversation curiously. "How does any of this help us solve our angel problem, though?" she asks. "I mean - ultimately, we need to get rid of all these angels. Right?"

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique hmmms softly, considering that image in her head before she snorts of a soft chuckle. What her body shifts to isn't precisely what Clarice was imaging, unless clowns could be considered sexy that is. Her entire body flutters like magnetic sand and instead of the of the white cover alls, she's wearing a sexy clown striped mini dress with little red puff balls down the side. Her legs are sheathed in pure white stockings and end at slightly over sized shoes. Her face goes pale white with a stylized clown make up, including the big red lips and her hair goes up into pig tails with huge puff balls holding them in place.

"I don't do utter silly," she comments to Clarice with a mischievous smirk. "But I can do sexy silly." And now she takes a bite of whatever it was she picked up from the table and looks over at Patience.

Once she swallows she says to the woman. "You probably have but didn't even know it. Most mutants can conceal themselves and blend in. I could if I wanted to, but I refuse to. I am a mutant, that is as much /who/ I am as it is what I am."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon actually puts one finger on his nose and then points at Terry at 'instead of punishing the creators.' "Got it in one," he murmurs. Then, to Patience, "Oh, I'm /quite/ aware demons exist. I'm also quite aware that the Archangel Michael decided that painfully torturing people to death regardless of their sins was a good idea--and, from his point of view, it was. But at least one of those people is dedicated to redeeming herself, is a /good/ person--and Michael almost killed her, and mind-controlled her into attacking her friends."

    He sighs, and peers down at his plate. "Look, I... I'm not trying to... people are going to believe what they believe. I'm not trying to /change/ that. I don't /trust/ Lucifer. I don't want anything more to do with him, if I'm being honest. His involvement gave me nothing, personally, but future pain and misery. I'd rather they all just went off and left us be, but... here we are." He shrugs.

    "As for being rid of them... we're working on that. They've a purpose here in Manhattan, though I'm not certain what it is. Long term... I think we figure out what Michael's issue is, and that helps us know what the flaw is, what's out of balance, and how to fix it. I'm... working on that."

    Before he really can say more he glances over at Mystique--and visibly shudders, and then looks away. "Sorry, ahh... clowns. I have... issues... with clowns." No context, nope.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Sexy clowns. Okay. Terry's best friend is Harley Quinn, and she technically fits that term. He doesn't even look fazed. "I had a good education," he admits to Patience, "But the nuns themselves did a /number/ on my self-esteem. The nuns made me feel worthless and undeserving of anything... because I was gay." He shrugs, "I remember Saint Sebastian's with a memory most unkind."

He narrows his eyes in thought. "Saint Michael is a control freak. He also may be dragging a massive guilt complex because he feels responsible for whatever /flaw/ he thinks the universe has. If he gets rid of the flaw, then he thinks he will become self-actualized and resolve the discrepancy between his actual self and his idealized self."

He takes a swig of his bottle, and then glances around the room. "... so sometimes I go to Harley for some counseling. She's a doctor, you know."

Patience Alperen has posed:
    "We need to convince them that the plan they're following isn't the right one." Patience replies to Clarice's comment. "The angels mean well. They're just not following the best path." She smiles to Mystique. "Mutant or no, we are all God's children. There's nothing wrong about being how you were made."

    "As for Michael's choices..." Patience sighs. "That's WHY I decided to ally with your side, Jonathan. I'd like to believe that if I get the chance to speak with him, maybe I might be able to get through to him. This heritage of mine has to be good for something." She sighs at Terry's statement. "I'm sorry. The Church has...flaws. I hope they, like Michael, will see the error in some of their choices."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice grins huge at Mystique as the woman plays along with her odd sense of humor - flashing her boss a thumbs up before she finishes off her shawarma - and starts licking her fingers clean. "Ohhh, that was so good. Thanks," she says to Terry brightly.
    "I have a girlfriend. Raven has a girlfriend. One of my little brothers is a 'drag queen' - and likes boys. I don't see why it should be anyone else's business," she says firmly. "Let alone some angels, or nuns, or whatever." She delivers this while watching Jon try to keep his eyes off Mystique - while she tries not to beam at his discomfort. "Oops, sorry. I didn't realize."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
With Jon's reaction, Mystique quickly shifts out of the clown and back into her usual clothing, literally seconds and the clown is gone. She now wears a white body suit with white thigh high boots, and around her waist a Smurf skull belt. Because of the weather however, she adds a long white trench coat over the top of it.

"Sorry Jon," she offers with a nod. "Was playing along with Clarice, didn't mean to create a problem."

Her yellow eyes scan Patience for a moment, a slight sneer to her lips. There are some things she wants to say, about God's love and God and where exactly that entire concept could be shoved, deeply, into, but people believe what they believe. So rather than tell Patience where to shove it, she instead takes a nicer road.

"The beautiful thing about freedom of choice, of being allowed to believe what we want to believe, is that we can also choose /not/ to believe or accept," she says with a smile on her face. "In spite of the angelic host literally knocking at our door, I will continue to belive that God can go fuck himself and the horse he rode in on." Really, it was nicer than what she was going to say.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon's eating now, frowning thoughtfully as he chews. He really does seem more settled, despite Clarice's repeated insistence on 'decaf,' particularly once Mystique doesn't look like a clown anymore. "Thank you," he murmurs.

    "The universe... /is/ flawed, though," he says quietly. "The question is how, and why. And how we fix it. I really do need to speak to him. Is it a guilt complex... or a persecution complex...?"

    He shakes his head, seeming to put it aside. "I would welcome that, Patience," he says finally, and fervently. "I... wanted to talk to him. He's hurt people, and I'm angry with him, but I don't... I don't want any more beings to die in this than must. So... here's hoping something will work."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"No more deaths, unless we are forced. Agreed." Terry is being very diplomatic. He is aware that Patience must be hit by Mystique's expression, so he doesn't confess the fact that, as far as he is concerned, god can go very well do that. He glances around, and the personnel, and he realizes that there's more people here that won't get shawarmas.

"So... I'm going to head out for a bit. You are going to need a bigger shawarma table, for one. And more shawarma."

He /does/ have that expense card Lois gave him for this. He can totally get the expense of a large order justified if he can get some inteviews... for example, Mystique: The mutant, feared by bigots, part of the resistance to save humanity. And then there is the woman of faith, not on the side of the angels- and the portalling mutant, and-

A lot of stories. If they let him tell them, people might end up with a very interesting portrait of the people who decided to man the front lines, when the time came.

"I'll be back in about... two hours. Let everybody know that Shawarma Santa will be coming in, alright?" he grins and waves at everybody, "Be careful, and keep me up to date. Good to meet you guys!" he says to Patience and Mystique, and in the next step, he is gone through a Rabbit Hole.

Patience Alperen has posed:
    Patience looks a little troubled at the response she's gotten, first with Clarice's statement, and then with the sneer and statement from Mystique that God can go fuck himself. Her troubled look fades to a bit of a sad one, and then looks back to Terry, as he teleports away. She's quiet for a long moment, and then says in a very soft voice "I'm sorry that you seem to hate God so much. Because He loves you. I'm sorry that misguided people have hurt you. And I'm sorry you can't see the difference." With that, she turns, trying to give herself some distance.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "We scared the little Godling," Clarice remarks calmly, watching the woman move away. She shrugs her shoulders, seemingly unperturbed, and finishes off her kefir before rising. "I'm heading back up to the Asteroid," she says with a yawn. "You coming up, boss?" she asks. Then looking to Jon she adds, "Anything or anyone you want to send up - on my way out of here?"
    She'll wait for his reply - and for anything that may need to be gathered - before she'll open one of her purple-tinged tears in reality. It takes her a few moments, and more concentration than usual - the strain showing on her features. She's been plumbing the depths of her reserves most days for about a full week.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique watches Patience turn and walk away, the words offered by the woman the same she's heard a million times and thus don't effect her. She doesn't know the woman, at all, or anything about her, so at the end of the day, she doesn't give a damn.

Turning back to Clarice she nods. "I'll be going with you, and you can explain that Godling comment once we're home."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Patience..." Jon frowns, watching the woman turn away. And suddenly, reflexively, he reaches out, to place a hand on her arm.

    "Look... I know... I know everything is fraught right now. But... your ancestor, he... I believe he was a good man. I believe /you/ are a good woman. And I believe... I may not believe quite as you do, but I..." How can he say it? The complexity of the world as he knows it, the things he knows?

    "I believe," he says finally, "that if God only saw what was happening, They would... /do/ something. I just... I just don't know if They're listening. I wish I did. I really do. I just..." Deep breath in. Deep breath out. "I know /something/ out there loves us and is looking out for us. Maybe I have different names for it than you do. But just... just don't think you're alone, here, in having faith."

    Then he lets her go. It's not enough comfort, he's certain, but it's all he can offer.