Owner	Pose
Bane	Bane was specific about the time and location: Ten in the evening, at the Brawler's stadium in Bludhaven. The stadium's in a lousy part of town and the team hasn't been good pretty much ever, so it's a relatively decrepit facility, far from modernized, a remnant of the 70s and 80s glory days. The place has peeling tile floors, the stench of old beer and sweat and cigarettes in the air. On the field, Bane awaits, sitting casually atop what appears to be a military-style trunk. He wears his usual mask with a heavy coat, his gloved hands clasped together atop his knee. He has approximately ten of his usual gang with him, some posted around the stadium to keep track of any outside interference possibilities, some just lingering around, all of them heavily armed. Bane has no intention of violence, but violence has a proclivity of finding him. "When's this broad showin' up, big man?" one of them whines. "I expect her to be quite punctual. Sudden, even. As sudden as me tearing out your tongue if you speak out of turn again," Bane says. The henchman blanches pale and shuts his mouth.
Clarice Ferguson	A tear in reality opens high in the stands of the stadium - the edges of it tinged with purple energy, as Clarice and Mystique step through together. The magenta hued woman stands out in any crowed, with her unnaturally green and featureless eyes, and pointed elf-like ears. She studies the stands, noting the armed men roaming about the seats and the field before turning to the woman beside her. "You want me to take us down there?" she asks. Sure - the pair of them are capable, but that doesn't mean she likes armed men having that sort of vantage point on them.     "I could try taking some of their weapons off them first...? But our host might take offense."
Mystique	The entrance is silent, no indications save the purple portal that someone would have to be looking for to even see. Mystique takes a moment from the high vantage point to study the placement of the henchmen around the area, then her eyes settle on those on the field. Interesting is the word that crosses her mind, but her expression remains an emotionless, neutral mask. "Leave them armed," she comments quietly. "Note the two up there, two there and one there, as well as those with him. I doubt he's interested in violence, but be ready just in case." Then with a nod a second portal opens right in front of Bane, one he can't miss, and the cobalt mutant steps through with her 'guard'. Dressed in the white body suit she was most commonly known for, along with white thigh high boots and her golden smurf skull belt, she merely offers a single nod toward Bane. She has no visible weapons, but with someone like Mystique, appearances are always deceiving. "I hope we didn't keep you waiting long," she offers, the truth of it being she and Blink appeared on the field at exactly ten o'clock.
Bane	Bane doesn't visibly startle or scare at the sudden arrival. He'd been informed well enough to know that Mystique had a habit of appearing suddenly. It didn't take a Dark Knight Detective to infer she might have a teleporter at her disposal. All the better, really, as far as Bane's concerned, given that the interests he wants to present are international in scope. "Not at all. Even if you had, I am a patient man. Santa Prisca had a habit of punishing those subject to boredom." "I see no need for introductions. You know who I am and what I've done. The whole world knows," he says. "But my plans are extending beyond Gotham now," he says, although he notoriously bombed the Blackgate Prison in Gotham only a week ago. "Do you have interests in the city-state of Madripoor?"
Clarice Ferguson	Clarice's own clothes are her usual as well - a long, green dress with slits up the side to nearly reach her hips - with a halter-top covering her chest, and bare shoulders. She crosses her arms over her chest, angling her form so she has eyes on one half of the stadium - while Mystique is able to keep the stands on the other side in her periphery. Bane would probably notice the strategic positioning - but she didn't care. All it did was show he wasn't dealing with idiots.     She remains silent for the moment, allowing Mystique to do the talking, while she waits to see what sort of deal the pair will arrive at.
Mystique	Mystique lightly folds her slender arms across her chest, still studying the man though the expression on her face remains neutral. Information on Bane was easy to come by, at least regarding the obvious things the man does, including the bombing of Blackgate Prison. There was a time when she wouldn't have cared about what some human, hyped up or not, was doing. That wasn't true of her these days. "Madripoor," she repeats with a soft chuckle. "It's been a while since I heard that name, but my interests regarding the place are as they always have been. Ensuring a place for like minded individuals to get away from it all." Yellow eyes remains on Bane, though the intensity at which she was looking finally softens. "Why do you ask? Intending to take over?"
Bane	Bane can't help but allow a bemused smile to pass over his lips beneath the mask. "Why, yes," he says simply. "However, I have no intention of wielding sole power. The current regime in Madripoor is sloppy, corrupt, disjointed. With so much business going through its ports and back alleys, we all suffer for the congestion of the underworld's metaphorical heart. And so I am asking certain others with interests there to join me as part of a...Cabal. To manage Madripoor, to keep it safe and free from outside interference, to make it a neutral space where we may all conduct our affairs without oversight." "Of course, in the world of secrets, there are few names as vaunted as your own. I would be remiss if I didn't offer you a place at the table - and I think I have good reason for you to join my concern."
Clarice Ferguson	Mystique... sitting on a ruling council with a bunch of criminal... humans? Clarice gives her mentor a brief, almost amused look, before a more neutral mask slides back into place. It's not her place to comment - though it doesn't sound like a horrible idea to her. She has to wonder, though, how much Mystique really has changed from form - whether or not she'd be willing to entertain the idea.     Her eyes track one of the guards as he walks along the edge of the stands - but it's hard to tell, with the featureless orbs that pass for her eyes. There's no pupil to use to indicate line of sight.
Mystique	For a moment Mystique's yellow eyes shift to Clarice, the corners of her mouth twitching as if she would smile, but as she looks back to Bane the neutral is back in place. "You're a wise man," she offers plainly, not shifting her body at all as her eyes move to look over the henchmen with him. Some habits are hard to get rid of, and in the moment she looks at their positions, she's already ascertained how to kill each of them, three different ways, and working on a forth before she looks back to Bane. "I /am/ the world of secrets," she states with a smirk. "Very few things get past me, but that comes from being around long enough to establish very deep connections all over the world. But I am /very/ curious as to what this 'good reason' you have is, Bane."
Bane	Bane likely has his own ideas of how to react if the situation were to go bad. However, he doesn't worry much about it because he would not -allow- the situation to go bad. Bane's force of will is legendary and, as long as his ire is not raised, his self-control can be immense. He does have that bad temper, of course. "Madripoor is the central nexus for the smuggling of illegal arms and technology. In recent years, a lot of those resources have found their way into the hands of anti-mutant organizations, such as the Friends of Humanity. However, with you leveraged into power in Madripoor, with an alliance of like-minded individuals by your side, it would be...all too simple for us to join our resources to steer such dangers away from the hands of fanatics and bigots. To prevent terror before it even began to be seeded in the wombs of their fetid little minds," he says with a dark chuckle. "Some others might protest the idea of giving up such a lucrative part of the b usiness, but I think it would be worth it in exchange to have someone of your prestige and ability to sit upon our council."
Clarice Ferguson	"How philanthropic of you," Clarice finally remarks in an amused, dry tone. "I never realized you were so civic minded. I imagine you're simply hoping more of those weapons would find their way into your own hands instead?"     She does have a voice, then! Her gaze has flicked towards Bane, then to the men with him, before returning to the stands once more, still watching for any signs of aggression. Nothing has alarmed her yet, apparently, or she and Mystique would not still be standing at the center of the field.
Mystique	Now a smile plays across Mystique's lips. There it was, the one thing everyone believed would get her attention. In some cases they were right, in others they were over reaching. She wasn't certain about Bane's intentions, there was something he wanted out of this, and if that was merely her presence on this council, then he was making that offer for no other reason that icing on a cake. If there was something more to it, then the offer was meant as a distraction from what that might be. "Bane, allow me to introduce my second in command," she says with mirth in the voice. "This is Blink, and she took the words right out of my mouth." Shifting her weight now, she takes a single step toward the man. "It is a very good start, that much I will admit, but I want more. You see, it is not enough to take the weapons away from the bigots, they will find other ways to get their hands on them. What I want is the assurance that if any of the hate groups against mutants make attempts to purchase anything while in Madripoor, they will be hunted down and killed. I want to send the message that some things are /not/ worth the risk or price, and when it comes to mutant hate, it needs to /never/ be worth the risk or price. Can you agree to this?"
Bane	Bane had anticipated as much, but one doesn't open with the full offer in any negotiation. He would offer something modest and then she would make a counteroffer. However, he had no compunctions about giving Mystique what she wanted. "In general, I think we would benefit from having Madripoor being a neutral space - not without violence, for such a thing is unachievable. But violence limited to interpersonal grudges and conflicts, rather than factional or political warfare. That said - I do believe that those who have a commitment to genocide go beyond the mere act of political speech," he says. "I can agree to such. Others who sit on the council might want evidence before allowing potential business to be exterminated. I, of course, will trust your judgment on such matters implicitly. It is your area of expertise, after all." "I have no issue with hate itself. Hate has fed me well. But hate should be born of sense, not foolishness and certainly not jealousy, the heart of all anti-mutant sentiment. Wanting to have what you have," he shakes his head. "That makes them weak. I have no mercy for the weak."
Clarice Ferguson	Clarice responds with a nod as she's introduced, her expression remaining serious, and closed - none of her frequent, broad lipped smiles today.     Then again, those smiles have been rather lacking in the past week or so.     "Certainly sounds like a step in the right direction. We've made no qualms about the fact that our mission to eliminate hate and bigotry against mutants has remained unchanged." They've only altered their methods somewhat.
Mystique	Unfolding her arms, Mystique places her hands on her hips, that same smile remaining on her face as she continues to look at Bane. All the right words, he seemed to have done his homework and perhaps even more, but there were always things about the cobalt mutant that weren't known. "It makes perfect sense that proof would be required," she agrees, again shifting her weight. It was almost as if she was testing his henchmen, waiting to see if one would be stupid. "So long as the act of punishment takes place in Madripoor of course." Now she begins to move slowly around Bane and his group, a slow, leisurely pace with a swing to her hips. "I find it a bit suspicious that you know so much about the plight of mutants, or that you even care," she admits as she walks. "Let us be perfectly honest, you truly give no fucks about mutants or their plight, your interest is entirely in securing me on the counsel, right? You'll dot all the i's and cross all the t's, present what you think I want to hear, make all the offers you can safely make, and all for what?" She stops and looks right at Bane. "Why is it important to /you/ that I'm on this counsel?"
Bane	Some of Bane's men grow a little nervous at Mystique starting to move about but Bane merely holds up a gloved fist, the signal for them to keep their peace. Of course, should he open the hand, they would open fire, simple as that. "I make no pretense of virtue. I have my own agenda, as do you. No, I do not care about mutants in particular. I do find those who make it their business to hate them narrow-minded and ignorant, but narrow-minded and ignorant are common currency in the world." "I want you because the world of mutants is part of the world in which Madripoor deals. I seek you because you are powerful and have proven yourself effective, even against long odds. And because you have superhuman resources at your disposal, which might prove useful to our endeavor." "If you want someone to hold your hand and tell you that you are just and true and that I love all that you love, I am a disappointmet. If you want someone who will honor what he commits and will help you slaughter your enemies without mercy, well...then I might be your man."
Clarice Ferguson	Clarice rolls her eyes as Mystique starts closely circling - testingt he mettle and control of Bane's men. It was hard to see that expression on her features - but Mystique was used to spotting the more subtle clues that were necessary with her pupil-less mentee. "We're not without friends who help us slaughter our enemies. We make a habit of it on a fairly regular basis, in fact," she points out dryly.     "But I suppose there's value in cultivating new friendships - as long as they're mutually beneficial."
Mystique	Her position is quite close to Bane, the full on test of his henchmen. So far she's impressed with his control over the minions he brought, but it was her nature to test the boundaries, so that is exactly what she was doing. "Now /that/ I believe," she states as she takes one more step toward Bane, then extends her hand to shake. "I believe we can work with that, now that that the truth is exposed. I would enjoy being on this counsel, Bane... but make no mistake, mutants will always come first to me. If you're willing to assist in this, as you say to 'slaughter our enemies', who am I to turn that down?"
Bane	Bane takes the outstretched hand, his grip firm and certainly showing no surcease on account of Mystique being a woman. Still, he isn't pushing either, just his usual intense self. "I am glad to hear it. I will be in touch with the necessary arrangements. In the spirit of transparency, I will let you know that the man who calls himself Deathstroke has already agreed to be a part of this Cabal. And I have meetings scheduled with others. Notably Erik Killmonger, if you know his reputation. He has his own enemies, too. I'm so pleased we can all share one another's burdens," he says with a dark laugh. His eyes turn towards Clarice, "I'm sure you do and some of it far away from prying eyes. But many hands make light work, even around the throats of the damned."
Clarice Ferguson	At last Clarice smiles - her broad lips revealing bright white teeth against her vibrantly magenta skin. "Yeah - but maybe I enjoy the work," she answers.     "...still. What's fun alone is generally even more enjoyable with like-minded people, isn't it?" She offers her own nod to the handshake, letting her hands fall to rest casually at her side, glancing towards Mystique with a questioning look. Was business over...? Or were there details to discuss?
Mystique	Mystique rambles off a number, her phone number, or most likely one of the many the mutant had. "Now you may contact me directly," she then says, stepping back. Her own shake is just that, a shake. It lacks emotion of any kind, no attempt to wrestle or show off. "Deathstroke," she repeats with a soft hmmm. "I know the name. Just as I know of Killmonger. Interesting choices Bane, I can hardly wait to see how this goes and whether or not we all end up attempting to kill one another over the possible power to be gained here. We of course can discuss all the fine little details once there is a counsel to have the discussion with, but I do assume that this counsel and it's decisions will be by vote, majority wins?"
Bane	Bane stands up, "Oh, I almost forgot. A little present for you," he says. He turns around and flicks the latch on the trunk he sat upon, opening it up. He reveals the figure of a middle aged man with a bit of a paunch, bound and gagged. "Mortimer Sweet. I plucked him out of Blackgate for you. You might know him better as the Mutant Skinner. As serial killers go, he's not much of an achiever, only six bodies to his name. But, then, they were all very young, weren't they, Mortimer? Mutant girls of a certain age, killed for your faith, defiled for your perversion? Only a bigoted jury would give you merely thirty years in prison." "Now I can offer him to you for true justice, as you see fit." Bane slams the trunk shut again, turning to walk away from it. "I am sure we will enjoy ourselves, regardless of how the endeavor turns out. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Most decisions, yes, although I think unanimous consent might be needed for major choices. But we'll cross those bridges when we blow them up," he says. He makes an elaborate hand gesture and his men withdraw rapidly, snipers fading into shadows. "Unless you have something else, I will bid you both adieu. Welcome to the Cabal."
Clarice Ferguson	As the 'gift' is revealed, Clarice's expression changes, going cold and dangerous - an in a flash of purple energy, a silvery javelin appears gripped tightly in her hand. She makes no further move for the moment, however, glaring for a moment at the cowering, bound figure. "...your gift is appreciated," she manages, before finally returning her attention Mystique.     "Should we leave him for Mister Creed?" she asks. It would be a slower death - and honestly, he's been tense enough with the humans on the asteroid - that he needs it.
Mystique	If there is a reaction to the gift, it doesn't show on Mystique's face or in her stance. She offers Bane a nod, nothing more, as the man departs. She has nothing else at this time, but there will be questions later, once the counsel is decided. "Safe journey," she offers after the man, before her yellow eyes shift to the trunk. His was a case she had attempted to manipulate. One she had infiltrated and attempted to get the death sentence attached to, but they found him guilty and just locked him up. The anger that filled her then was back in her chest, but it didn't show. No, there would be no indication of it until Bane was long gone, then and only then, would she allow that anger to be known. "Send him to lock up for now," she stated calmly. "This one is... personal, so I will decide by tomorrow what fate awaits this human."