Owner	Pose
Victor Creed	A Gulfstream G550's warmed engines cast the night in noise. The private airport is otherwise devoid of activity. Madelyne Pryor's services as a pilot had been secured with a bonus for discretion. The client was a syndicate based out of Madripoor. They play the part, outfitted in business suits with dark sunglasses, tattoos sticking out of collars and cuffs. A half-dozen bodyguards stand around a man who's blazer is slung over his shoulder. He smokes a cigarette as he watches a larger man emerge from the hanger. Victor Creed has managed secure a suit from the big and tall. His long mane of hair has been pulled behind into a pony tail. Despite the dapper outfit, the feral nature of the man cannot be ignored. His nostrils flare as he takes in the scent of jet fuel and gun powder. A cocksure grin tugs at his lips. He yells loud enough to be heard, "Sure gone through a lot of trouble to acquire my services, but I reckon it's gonna be a good time." The boss huffs and flicks his cigarette to the side then motions toward the jet. The party begins to board.
Madelyne Pryor	It has been quite a bit of doing to try to find her place in the world, and Madelyne Pryor was certainly not going to pass up what could prove to be a very lucrative job. Discretion? Absolutely. She knew the meaning of that. Nonetheless, seeing that one of the passengers was the mutant commonly know as Sabretooth told her that there was a bit more involved in this particular job. But instead of worrying, she found it added a little bit of a thrill to the moment. She watched the party approach the jet, and she ducked back inside, moving to stand just within to greet them as they boarded. She was wearing a one-piece grey jumpsuit, zipped up three quarters of the way with a white shirt underneath - not necessarily fancy, of course, and while she did not have to wear any kind of uniform, it gave her a certain sense of comfort. "Gentlemen," she said quietly as they began to board. Then she made her way towards the cockpit, glancing over the instruments for a brief moment to ensure that all was well as she awaited the signal to depart.
Victor Creed	Victor's nostrils flare, and he gives the remarkably familiar looking Madelyne a brief look of puzzlement. Close but.. different. He tilts his head, "Hey Red, are you..." His question is interrupted by one of the bodyguard who coughs and points further into the jet. Victor's eyes narrow. "Listen here, dipshit. Interrupt me again, and I'm paintin' the interior red." The bodyguard attempts to look stoic, but the rise and fall of his adam's apple betrays a gulp. Creed grunts and claims a row for himself, the boss sitting in the aisle across from him. "Guess you want to wait for us to be in the air before we talk business, eh?" The boss nods. Victor shrugs and settles in lazily, waiting for take off.
Madelyne Pryor	There is a catch in Madelyn's breath as Victor asks the question. She knows where he was going with it. Does that represent danger, or ... something else? She uses the interuption by the bodyguard to slip away instead of answering or clarifying, and instead simply ducks into the cockpit. Something to unpack later.     "Alright, prepare for take-off," she calls back, and initiates the proceedings. Calling in the tower as she pulls the plane out of the hangar, it is only another few minutes before they are down the runway, and lifting off into the sky.
Victor Creed	Victor frowns again as he hears the voice from the pilot. Also familiar, but not quite right. His senses are sharp enough to detect the difference. He occupies himself with theories of cousins or siblings. In fact, he's a bit paranoid, but if this was a trap laid by Jean Grey, he'd already be toast. He wasn't prepared for dealing with a mind melter. As the plane takes to the air, the bodyguard pretends to relax, but in truth, many are fingering the triggers inside their blazers. Each is armed with a tranquilizer gun sporting some VERY potent drugs. They knew their mark, and how normal bullets didn't quite do the trick. The boss opens a personal mini-frig and produces a glass, pouring himself a glass of bourbon. "The mark is Viper." Creed lets out a low whistle. "You sure you wanna open that can of worms?" He shrugs and the pair begin negotiations.
Madelyne Pryor	Luckily for Madelyne, flying is second nature to her, so she is able to manage the plane nearly on auto-pilot. She turns over the situation in her head as she flies, occassionally glancing back into the cabin itself when she can steal a glance. She knows he knows...something. But she also knows that he still got on the plane, which says...something. And he was, after all, the one paying handsomely for the flight.     She had spent so long trying to figure out who and what she was, and wanting to meet others like her, other mutants. She was hopeful that once the flight is over, perhaps she would have a moment or so. She knew he wouldn't just walk away without getting the answer to her question. She tried to focus on the flight, but her thoughts kept drifting back to the mutant passenger.
Victor Creed	Details are exchanged over the next hour or so. There is the occasional joke and a veiled threat exchanged. It's all part of the culture of Madripoor, no place on Earth was more criminal. The jet is well over the ocean when things become a little more tense. Victor shakes his head, "I'm thinkin' this is a no. Way too much trouble for the money. Besides, I like slummin' around Madripoor. I take Viper's head and its gonna be problematic for my night life." As Madelyne's mind wanders, she might catch some of the surface thoughts of her passengers. There's pieces of a narrative. Tranquilizer guns. Parachutes. A ship waiting nearby. A jet sinking beneath ocean waves. Gangsters were planning what to do with Victor's refusal. The boss leans forward and points a finger at Victor from around his glass. "I hope you will reconsider. We could... double our price." Victor considers then shakes his head, "Still no deal." The Boss frowns, "I guess the viper will remain in her pit." It was a code. The bodyguards are slowly going for the tranquilizer guns.
Madelyne Pryor	These are the sorts of moments that Madelyne lives for. She had had plenty of time to really think of what she might do if and when the treachery happened. How she might respond. And perhaps more importantly, how Sabretooth might respond. Would he blame her, or think she was in on it? As the bodyguards move for the tranquilizer guns, she prepares. She has already engaged the autopilot, and is ready. She lets them draw the guns, timing out her manuever such that the threat to Victor is very real. Let him feel that surge of adrenaline that comes from an attempt on his life first, and then... The first shot is fired at Victor, and as soon as the sound of trouble appears she comes out of the cockpit. Knowing he is likely to respond quickly, she is prepared for anything, but her first objective is to disarm the bodyguards, reaching out with her telekinesis to rip the tran guns from their hands. Is there a bit of a grin on her face as she imagines what will happen to the unarmed men as they face a not tranquilized Sabretooth? Maaaaaaaaybe.
Victor Creed	Victor growls as the first dart embeds in his shoulder. A single dose is no where near enough to bring him down, but there's a moment of concern as he realizes he's surrounded without much maneuvering room. He's about to grab someone to use them a human shield when Madelyne bursts from the cockpit and performs a very Jean Grey kind of maneuver. Everyone is shocked when the men are abruptly disarmed. Everyone looks at Madelyne in disbelief. A sinister laughter then begins to echo through the cabin. Victor is having an honest to goodness belly laugh. A tear is coming out of the corner of his eye. The bodyguards back up against the fuselage. The boss raises his hands and attempts to remain calm, "Victor, I'm sure we can...." He's abruptly silenced as Victor's claws rip into his facial mask. They pierce his eyes and penetrate his brain. A single syllable of scream is released before he's abruptly silenced. A couple of bloody moments later... Victor stands within the cabin, speckled in blood. The interior is similarly painted. He looks to Madelyne. "I don't reckon you are Jean... but you fight like her. Care to explain that?"
Madelyne Pryor	Madelyne has Jean's body. She has Jean's powers. And Jean's voice. But when Victor turns back to her after dispatching his would-be assailants, it is abundantly clear that Madelyne's face is all her own. That grin that appeared in anticipation has broadened. There is a glint in her eye. Satisfaction? Pleasure? Excitement? The woman standing before him who looks like Professor Xavier's most prized pupil is clearly anything but. "My name is Madelyne Pryor." Which he knew, of course. He hired her. "And while I may have started as..." She thinks for a moment. She doesn't want to say the word. It sounds so...clinical. "...some parts of her." Her lips twist into a smile. "I am all me." Her eyes scan the cabin, taking themselves from the mutant to the massacre that he has caused. He can likely sense it - the excitement it has filled her with. The thrill of the danger. And almost the approval of the results of their betrayal. Her gaze moves back to him. Waiting to see what comes next.
Victor Creed	Victor's brow furrows in consideration. He bends down and rips a clean portion of blazer off a corpse. He begins to use it as a rag. "Well, I reckon' I believe you... Because ain't a single one of Xavier's sissies that would look at an aftermath like this... and have that kind of expression." He muses and sniffs. "And.. unless you are playin' a trick on me, I'm not smellin' the fear." He looks Madelyne up and down, rubbing his chin. "Huh.. You should charge more." Snorting, he gestures toward the cockpit. "Mind droppin' our altitude for a tick? I wanna toss these bodies before they get rank. Then... you and I can have a talk in the cockpit. Cause... You've got my attention." Grabbing a couple of bodies by their ankles, he starts forming a pile at the exit door.
Madelyne Pryor	No fear at all in this one. "What would I have to fear? If you were going to take me out, you'd have done it already." Madelyne stands firmly before him. If anything, she stands a little bolder as he looks her over. Her chin raising a bit more. Projecting a confidence in herself that may be slight exageration. Showing the bold side that she wants to have. "Good plan." She looks at the bodies again, and then back at her one remaining passenger, and licks her lips. "Try not to make too much more of a mess." And then she heads back into the cockpit, retakes control, and dips them down far lower than they probably should be. But retains complete control of the aircraft. She takes a breath, and waits to see just what Sabretooth has in mind for their talk...
Victor Creed	Victor seems entirely too practice at the procedure of airdropping bodies out of a moving aircraft. He's uncharacteristically careful, likely because he's trying to avoid damaging the aircraft with the bodies. A steady stream of corpses begin impacting the ocean below in plums, destined to be food of maritime fauna. A pile of wallets is left behind once he is finished. He gives his bloody blazer a toss and then drags the hatch closed again. Finally, he meets her in the cockpit, cleaning his claws with some wet naps he found behind a seat. He settles into the co-pilot's seat managing a bit of a tight squeeze. He looks Madelyne over again. "That's got to be damned annoyin', but looks like you are making the best of it. All yours as they say." He folds his arms behind his head, "You for hire as a merc? I know people... They don't necessarily need pilots, but sometimes I reckon' they do.. but they do have a lot of uses for people with your kinda power especially considerin' you don't seem to be bothered by wetwork."
Madelyne Pryor	With the slightly different passenger set, Madelyne seems to have relaxed herself a bit in the cockpit. The jumpsuit zipper has been drawn down to mostly halfway, giving her a bit more ease and freedom of movement, and her posture at the stick is relaxed. Languid, almost, as she works the controls. "It was, at first, a bit startling to find out what I was." Her gaze remains out the glass, not yet looking at her "co-pilot". "Then I decided what I was didn't determine who I was." She turns her gaze to look at Victor, giving him a once over herself. Perhaps looking for lingering signs of blood. "I'm not so sure that I want to quite get into that line of work on a regular basis. But..." She considers for a moment. "There is a certain appeal to this sort of thing." She licks her lips again. Yep, definitely not Jean.
Victor Creed	Victor tongues one of his fangs as he looks her way, catching the lick of lip and hanging on her words. "A certain kind of appeal, huh?" He lets out a low whistle in appreciation of the blood lust or at least the apathy toward the dismemberment of other human beings. He hums and muses, thinking over his next words carefully. "I'm not really the recruitin' type, but I think there are some folks you should meet. Figure you must be familiar with the Brotherhood. We got ourselves a fancy space rock, and we are a pack of killers with a cause. That cause bein' takin' out mutant killers before they take us out." Finding a rogue speck of blood on his pants, he picks at it with his thumb claw. "There's at least some mutual benefit there. Kinda luxurious too. Worth a tour at the very least. Great bar. Pool with a view of the stars."
Madelyne Pryor	A slow nod from Madelyne as she watches Victor. "Indeed." His senses may have picked it up - it was far more than apathy. "Space rock with a pool? That does certainly sound interesting." She turns her gaze forward again, eyeing the instrument panel for a moment. A routine check. She takes a deep breath, thinking to herself. "I'd take a tour. Sure."
Victor Creed	"Excellent. Don't forget your bikini." Victor grins. He shifts comically in the chair that isn't quite large enough for him. "And I bet we can find you some work or missions that'll really get your blood pumpin'. I can smell the excitement on you. Hear that ticker poundin' in your chest. If that back there got you goin'... Well, Maddie.. The rollercoaster are just gettin' started." He gestures ahead, "O'course.. Madripoor has got plenty of charm too. But its... appetizers compared to the kind of trouble the talent on the asteroid gets into."
Madelyne Pryor	"I'm sure I can make do if I forget," murmurs Madelyne, her eyes glancing sidelong at Victor. Her pulse quickens for a moment. Perhaps at his recognition - or acknowledgement - of the effect that scene had on her. "I do love a good rollercoaster." She looks forward, as Victor indicates, and nods slowly. "I haven't been to Madripoor before. I have heard a bit of its reputation, though." She turns her gaze back to Victor. "I'd imagine the talent on the asteroid must be ... considerable."
Victor Creed	"Well, if you want to jump in the water stark naked. I ain't gonna stop you, but you might not like the thoughts you inspire." He grins and continues to pick idly at blood stains. "Some of the best mercs... Some of the best operatives... Genuine mutant royalty. Its a good place to make some powerful friends." He notes and then stretches his arms over his head, torso straining against the white of his button down shirt. He gazes out the windshield, "But.. if you haven't been to Madripoor. Might owe you a tour there as well. Bet you'd like the underground fightin' scene."
Madelyne Pryor	"Might not," echoes Madelyne, her gaze lingering on the air in front of them. Her tone does not convinced, however. "I'm not going to lie. I could use some powerful friends." She turns to look at Victor again, watching him as he moves. "A place to belong would be nice, too." That lick of the lips again. "I could stand to see a fight or two, perhaps. Do you ever enter, yourself?"
Victor Creed	"On really rare occasion, I might step into the ring. Truth is.. most don't punch at my weight. Not many really willin' to take up a match with me. Everyone once and awhile, I'll get a job as an executioner for a show, but... I don't really care for bein' in the cage." He shakes his head. "Nah, the streets themselves.. If I'm gonna release a little steam.. Its the back alleys. Always someone makin' a mistake, thinkin' they are the top dog. Always someone for me to take down a peg. Great city to find a little blood, strong booze, and company for the night." He bangs his knee against the console and swears. "Never make these things big enough."
Madelyne Pryor	Madelyne nods slowly, listening to Victor. She finds herself smiling for a moment, but then it flickers away, replaced by a serious expression. "We have a bit more time before we get there." She turns to look at him. "No need to cram yourself into the cockpit here. Unless you mind the mess back there, more room in the cabin." She glances back at the instruments. "Autopilot can engage for a bit more. Were there not some drinks in bar?"
Victor Creed	Victor looks over his shoulder and hums in deep consideration. He slowly rises from the pilot seat and ducks his way out of the cockpit. "Smell of blood never bothered me. Heck... smells like home." He explores the mini-bar, his search marked by the clinking of small glass bottles. Pulling out a long neck beer bottle, he pops the cap with his fang and takes a swig. Looking to Maddie, he grins and leans against the bar. "What's your poison?"
Madelyne Pryor	Madelyne engages the autopilot and follows Victor out into the cabin area. She steps around the mess, seemingly okay with seeing it, but not yet eager to get it on her. She adopts a casual lean, an arm up to rest against the bulkhead, her body hanging a bit in that lean forward. "Oh, you pick. I'm sure it'll be fine." She chuckles. "I'll do my best not to get too sauced to land."