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Scion: Rise of the Fallen - [Scion] Ep 1 - "Just Sign Here, Here and Here"


Dave ST
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Each of the Scions, in their own way, were invited into Broder's private dining area. This was not to say that they were all led in together or that they were by any means encouraged to mingle with each other; hell, they really didn't recognize their fellow Gods after a thousand years.

The Morrigan sat with Corbin at a small table and it wasn't long before the wait staff presented her and Corbin menus and informed them that their tabs were covered by Mr. Broder. Thor stomped in like the behemoth of a man that he was. The bar welcomed him and he was already half way through his first beer before the bartender managed to tell him that it was meant for another customer. Bast sat several seats away from him, observing the room with a calculating perception, noting exits, bodyguards, and any directions that a possible ambush might come from; indeed the Gods that were mentioned had all had bad blood with the others over the eons, and this could end very badly. Hey, at least drinks were free.

Hades and Sun Wu Kong were, as always, 'special' cases. Sun Wu Kong simply slipped through the area unnoticed and seated himself in a small inconspicuous booth in the corner where he could observe everything as it happened. Hades was a different spectacle entirely. She strolled in wreathed in a plume of cigar smoke, passing by Thor and Bast as she did, in a heated debate on her cell phone about her most recent acquisition of the City of Angels. Within moments of her arrival, she and The Agent were sitting down at her booth, briefcases were open, lap tops were syncing with Wi-Fi and it was business as usual.

Broder entered from the kitchen several minutes after everyone had arrived. It was awkward, so the Gods just simply kept to themselves. Two large thugs barred the exit. Bast noticed and Sunny noticed, but it seemed more to keep people out than keep the Gods in. Mr. Broder was dressed to the nines in a sharp, expensive suit and he looked every bit of the billion dollar element he was named after. "Thank you all for coming." He greeted them as he simply walked about the floor, making eyes contact with everyone he could. "For those of you who do not know me in this form, I am Auric Broder, and I am the one has asked you all to join me here today."

He spoke with a confidence and articulated tone that broadcast that he was no stranger to public speaking. "First, let me say that I'll not doubt for a moment that some, if not all, of you might think that my proposal is absolute bullshit." He swung his hands out wide and grinned broadly. "Hey, I wouldn't blame you in the slightest. It is pretty outlandish, isn't it? I mean, to have your powers back, to be Gods again, that just seems too good to be true, right?"

He simply wandered about the large room at a slow pace, taking in the Gods and offering them polite smiles in between sentences. "The Titan's polite cease fire that brought about your fall was, as I'm sure you've guessed, a ruse. Casting you down from your respective realms was also part of the plan. After all, where do you think they acquired the sorcery to enact such a curse as to remove the powers of a God and seal them in their avatar form? Each of your brothers and sisters who foolishly stayed behind are bound by oaths that prevent them from involving themselves in the world for one millennium. A thousand years of peace, and that time is almost up."

He picked a drink up off the bar and thanked the bartender. Sipping his scotch for a moment he savored the taste and went back to his speaking. "Two thousand years ago, Aten the Avatar of Light, devised a grand plan: Christianity. In the thousand years that followed it spread like wild fire and in time nearly all the 'Old Gods', namely, all of you, were being replaced this one divine figure, God." He paused to let them take that in. "You receive your power from where? Belief. It's the Legends of your existence and your deeds and your power that make the mortals revere, respect and worship you. And without that belief, that worship, what have you? Nothing." The ice clinked in his glass as he tipped it once more. "Aten realized the effect it could have on the Pantheons and so he put his plan into motion. For the last thousand years your fellow Gods have been up there existing without any prayers from the mortals at all. Can you imagine what they've become? They've turned on each other, warring amongst themselves to gain the worship from the neighboring Pantheons to fill the void. When the treaty has expired, the Titans will sweep through the Godrealms and we will be powerless to stop them. Weakened from lack of prayer and infighting, they won't pose even a minor annoyance to the Titans, much less a genuine threat."

"You mean to tell me," Hades cut in smoothly, glancing up over the screen of her laptop, "that they brokered a deal with the same beings who'd been working to overthrow them for the last thousand years? And now they're suffering up there, starving for even the most meagre shred of essence, fighting over scraps like junkyard dogs as they slowly waste away and wait for their inevitable destruction?" The dark-eyed god crowed with laughter. "Oh, that is just too delicious. Broder, is this a sales pitch, or are you just trying to make us feel better? Let's face it, if you're trying to play to the sympathy of the crowd..." She trailed off, gesturing at the other ex-gods scattered around the bar. "Your routine might need some work. Comedy's all in the timing, man. Timing."

"Bloody brilliant plan," The Morrigan said while sipping her drink. She shook her head in disgust, the ancient war goddess seeing how some of the pieces were fitting into place. "And we fell for it."

Actually," Broder continued, grinning at Hades for her most welcomed ice breaker. "Therein lies our problem. Rest assured if I have this information, they do as well, hmm?" He let them ponder that a moment. "The Gods have come to blame the mortals for their lack of belief. And they want that belief back."

"They're planning something." Bast said calmly. "What is it?"

"Yes, they are." Broder set his drink down and inhaled. Up until now he'd been very forthcoming with all his information, but this seemed like it was hard for him to say. "They're planning something called, 'The Joining'. Reinstating their worship at this point would be impossible, or so we thought. Erecting temples and building cults would take more time than they have with the expiration of the treaty so close. Converting would take decades, if not centuries. They need one big hammer blow that proves their existence without a shadow of a doubt."

He sighed, prepping the punch line. "They're going to merge the Godrealms with The World in an attempt to usher in a new age of Legend. Then they'll divide The World among the Pantheons and regain their powers to fight the Titans. It's madness and an act of pure desperation. The effects the Godrealms would have in this world are unknown, but humanity will suffer greatly for it. The only ones who can stop them are those who never swore an oath and all those who didn't swear an oath, are down here, mortal and powerless."

"That's where you come in." His gaze fell upon each of the Fallen. He was silent a moment afterward, letting them assess the full weight of what was about to come next. "Not even the Sisters of Fate are powerful enough to undo the full power of all the Gods working in unison, which is why they've agreed to side with us. You will become Legends once more, here, in this world among these people, and I will set you on the first step towards doing so. There are no unbreakable curses, some just take longer than others. I will help you become Gods again, and that brings us back to what I said before: It sounds a bit too good to be true doesn't it? That's what brought you here today: Hope. Hope that you could have your existence back. Hope that you could be rid of this curse. Hope that maybe, just maybe, I could help you."

"And hope, my friends, is all we have left." Broder leaned against a table and folded his arms. "But I know where we can get more. The first step to breaking the curse will require you to work together. You're going to get the last of what is left of Hope. In Atlanta, Georgia they are displaying an exhibit of ancient Greek artifacts, and among them is Pandora's Box. I'm sure Hades will remember what it looks like. If you are going to shatter this curse, then the first means of doing so lies within the box. Fate has demanded that it must be you who accomplish this task, else I'd have already had the box stolen and brought here."

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Bast fought down the impulsive urge to run and buy a ticket to Atlanta on the spot. The hope Auric had spoken of insightfully...it surprised Bast with its sudden intensity. Hearing that the gods AND titans were their foes only made it stronger.

There was COPIOUS payback waiting to be delivered.

"Do the Pantheons or Titans know of this opportunity?" she asked, forcng her voice to calmness. Assess the opposition. Get the intel. "Are we going to be up against anything supernatural?" She asked not from fear, but from a need to prepare appropriately.

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"What they don't know, is that the curse can be broken and that we know a way." Auric shrugged and gave it to her straight. "What they do know is that I've found you, and I have plenty of enemies. That means that they're going to be your enemies as well. The Gods figure that by eliminating you, they'll dissolve my plan, whatever that may be is still up in the air to them."

"The worst you may have to deal with is a few hired thugs acting as the eyes for a larger group, but I'm pretty sure we've lost the trail of the major deities, at least until you start making a ruckus."

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Bast nodded. "So they know we're up to something, but not what, and not where. And they're still bound by oath, so they'll have to act through agents and servants even after they're ready to make a move."

"In that case, with some planning, we can pull this off even as mortals. With some luck, and some ingenuity, we might even be able to keep them off the scent of our real plans."

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No unbreakable curses. Some just take longer than others.

The large battered-looking man had glowered suspiciously at Broder throughout his speech, but at that line the glower faded, an expression uncomfortably like hope dawning in the bloodshot dull grey eyes.

The woman spoke up, her brisk professional manner betraying a military background. Thor suppressed a scowl. He'd tried being a soldier, but he was a warrior, not a rank-and-file fighter or tactician. He'd been flogged in the 1700's, nearly hanged in the 1800's, and dishonorably discharged despite medals for bravery in 1949 for drunken brawling.

Still, she made sense. Thor downed his(?) beer in one pull, setting it on the bar and looking at the bartender. "Another." He looked at the others, who seemed to be deliberating, then at the woman who'd spoken as he pushed himself away from the bar and stepped forwards.

"I agree with... with her." he said with an apologetic shrug for the Cat Goddess, whom he didn't recognise at all. His own size, not to mention the dull red hair and grey eyes, left little doubt as to his identity in those that knew anything of the Aesir. "And I'm with Broder. I want these curses undone. There is... are others, too. Like us, and I want to free them. If we do this, if we reclaim our divinity, will I be able to do that?" This last was directed at Broder, who took in the desperate edge of anger under the hope and, after a moment's thought, nodded.

"Anything is possible, Thunderer." he said with a gently respectful nod of the head. Gunnar nodded and turned, scooping his beer off the bar.

"Then I'm going to goddamned Atlanta. And let their minions try to stop us!" he declared in a forceful tone, saluting Broder with his glass and staring round at the others gathered. "Who else?"

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Listening to the litany of woes Broder was explaining gave Wukong a headache just thinking about it. Not that there was any doubt for him, no reason to back out of this. Being a hero. Slaying monsters and dangers to the World and beyond. And fighting the Gods? He'd battled the Celestial Bureaucracy before many of their greatest stars had existed.

For a moment, he silenced his suspicions and worries. "Count me in too. Where precisely are they holding this exhibition? Public art museum, private gallery, etc.?"

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Morgan said nothing. For the first time in a long time, she could do something, and had this been thirty years ago, she would have been as ready as any of them to do it. But now, she wasn't ready. The weight of her body was never more obvious to her than now, and she found it intolerable that when she might have all she ever wanted within her grasp, she couldn't reach it around the girth of her gut.

So she didn't - couldn't - add her cheers to the aura of hope and celebration going around the table. There was nothing for her but a dark fear that she'd eaten her fat ass out of godhood once and for all.

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With a subdued, eerily synchronized 'click' from their booth, two laptops were briskly closed as Hades and her silent companion prepared to depart.

"The Michael C. Carlos Museum, at Emory University, has one of the most extensive collections of ancient art and artifacts in the region. The Four Seasons is less than four miles from campus, in addition to other amenities and distractions downtown," the olive-skinned woman stated with the practiced ease and confidence of those accustomed to privilege... and negotiations. "Five rooms, two cars. Our flight leaves in..." Her dark eyes flicked briefly to the sleek watch on her left wrist. "Two hours, twenty-seven minutes. Got a killer deal on Priceline. Thank you, Mr. Shatner. Anyway!" She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "My team of consultants and I will be paying the museum a visit under the pretense of a sizable charitable donation, recommended by my accounting staff. Said consultants will have plenty of opportunity to, ah..."

"I believe the phrase is, 'case the joint,' sir," her Agent supplied helpfully in his crisp, professional monotone.

"Ah!" She snapped her fingers, brightening as suddenly as if she were Archimedes in his bathtub. "Yes. To... case the joint, while I'm talking business with whatever curator or director comes scurrying out. We'll have to get you all something business-appropriate to wear, of course." The woman's stygian gaze scrutinized each of them in turn, lingering longest on the rough-looking Norseman and the impressive bulk of the Morrigan. It wouldn't be easy, but... Well, money might not buy happiness, but it could by a damned good tailor. "After business hours, the real work can begin." She turned to Broder, one dark brow raised in inquiry, and then scanned the room once more before addressing those assembled. "I assume there aren't any other pressing matters that can't be resolved in transit?"

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Batya shook her head. "Nothing here. I'll give the guys a week's leave...should be enough for now. Most of my stuff's still packed, so I'm good to go."

She took in each of the presences at the table as well, though measured each with a more militant measuring stick than did Hades. She had, at one time, kept herself current on the gods of other faiths, and while those memories were hazy at best, she did recognize several of the names.

None had divine power now, but it seemed safe to assume they would at least have command of the skills that they were famous for as gods. Thor was strong and tough, and a berserker fighter. Sun Wukong would know his way around martial arts and acrobatics. Hades was already clearly devious and intelligent. Morrigan...Bast wasn't sure about her. She'd heard the name, but it had been from a minor faith, one limited to the shores of some little island the Romans were conquering. That she was here demonstrated that, at one time at least, she had courage and conviction to stand up to her peers. It was hard to reconcile that with the body she wore now.

No matter. They'd find something she could do.

"Give me the flight info, and I can meet you on the plane."

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Sun Wukong stared at Hades suddenly like she might have done something stupid. "Booked a flight." He said simply, before scowling. "A commercial airplane flight? Surely you realize that there's enough seating that a Pantheon or Titan agent could be among the passengers with us none the wiser?" It sounded incredibly paranoid, but that streak of worry had returned with a vengeance.

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“Then they’ll be amon’ th’ passengers, an’ we’ll deal wit’ them.” The statement was the first from the Morrigan. Her Irish accent leaked through thickly and her irritation with the Monkey King was there, too.

Blue eyes settled on Hades, unsure if this was the same god of death she remembered hearing about. Hadn’t he been a he? “Yer team o’ consultants… are they gonna be aware o’ what is going on o’ in th’ dark?”

It was hard to tell which answer she preferred; she kept her expression bland.

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The look of scorn in Hades's eyes as she peered at the former Monkey King penetrated like a depleted-uranium shell. Something wholly, genuinely unpleasant lay coiled in the depths of those stygian eyes, and for a long moment, the only sound she made was the faint hiss of an exhalation.

Abruptly, she blinked, glancing surreptitiously at her watch before returning her gaze to Sunny with a neutral expression.

"I'm terribly sorry," she said with what might have been a patronisingly apologetic smile, gesturing vaguely at the right side of her head. "But I'm a trifle deaf in this ear. Please, speak a little louder next time."

"My dear... ah..." Clearly, the name had escaped her, perhaps due to her apparently bottomless glass of scotch, but she forged ahead anyway. "Lady. If they do not know what is going on, I shall be very. Put. Out." A meaningful glance at her Agent merited a shrug and a slight incline of his head toward the door. She sighed; the warning throb of an impending headache pulsed between her eyes.

"You, all of you, are the consultants. That is how you'll get the chance to figure out where the box is, and how we're going to claim it. Is it fool-proof? No. Fortunately, we're sure to have at least one fool to test it for us," she quipped dryly.

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"We're going to have to learn to cooperate," Batya pointed out. "I don't expect it to happen right away, but not treating each other like shit is probably a good start. We each bring something unique to the table, and none of us got where we are now by being fools. The current situation proves that."

"When does the plane leave? Also, is this a charter or commercial flight? It'd be nice if we didn't have to deal with TSA."

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"I am not" came the acerbic reply, utterly void of her earlier flippancy, "treating anyone, as you so eloquently put it, 'like shit.' What I am doing," Hades continued, "is rapidly losing my patience. Time," she elaborated, glancing around the room as she paced out a slow semi-circle, "is money. Time is also power. Both are being squandered right now." Fixing her gaze intently on Batya, the wealthy businesswoman added, "Both of the questions you've asked have already been answered. We have roughly two hours, twenty minutes at this point to board our plane, which is the only non-stop flight to Atlanta, and Priceline doesn't handle private charters. Now." Clapping her hands, she surveyed the room once more. "I'm leaving. I have some more loose ends to tie up. I'll either see you all at the airport, or I'll send you a postcard when I claim the box. Thank you, Mister Broder. I'll be in touch."

With a half-bow to Auric and a cursory, off-hand wave to the others, Hades strode out of the bar with an expression both grave and ominously fierce. Her Agent followed suit, neutrally expressing his wishes for those assembled to have a pleasant evening.

Click to reveal.. (OOC)
I realize Hades isn't playing "nice," but it's not her style; she doesn't know these people, or even trust them. She's built an investments empire, and isn't accustomed to repeating (or, generally, even explaining) herself. It's nothing personal, I promise, so please don't take offense! smile
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Sunny looked unfazed by the glares and insults... perfectly expected, considering certain past comparisons... "Rich'y bitch'y is like Xuangzang. And probably just as wrong. Ah well, I bailed his ass out in the end... I can do the same here."

He rose with a monkey's grace yet that odd strain of alertness. "See you at the airport."

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Morgan rose as well, her eyes hard. This was it, then. She'd always known that there would come a time when she would face a situation that could kill her and she'd do it. She hadn't planned on that situation offering her a chance to seize godhood again. For that, she'd do anything - even if she risked death for it. Even if she wasn't ready, physically, to do this.

"I'll be at the airport," she said and swept out of the bar. Outside, she headed for her car and started to plan which of her bags she'd take and what she'd do with her raven in the mean time.

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  • 1 month later...

With a destination and a treasure in mind they had been given a purpose, a mission. As they filtered out slowly Auric stood and watched them, investigating each of them in his own way still amazed at how much living in a mortal shell had affected them. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose finally once they had left.

"Do you think this will work Mr. Broder?" One of his staff asked him, an immortal like Broder but significantly less powerful.

"I've supped with Gods," He began, as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I've witnessed dragons in flight and seen the miracles of the divine at the pinnacle of their power. You'd think I'd have more faith, no?" Once again he sighed and stared at the door the Fallen had left through. "Honestly, I think we're screwed."

Atlanta, Georgia. Several hours, five luggage checks, three lost travel bags, one cursing Gunnar, one call to Homeland Security, three body searches and one call to Adriana's lawer in the middle of a lengthly interrogation later...

The Fallen were now behind schedule (not that it really mattered much, they were more bored to tears by Homeland Security than anything else) and after a few phone calls by The Agent the quintet were all sitting comfortably in a limo on their way to the hotel. "For future reference, Gunnar," Hades began as the other Fallen sat about giving a Gunnar a blameful look. "The next time you feel the urge to curse at citizens in ancient Norse," The attractive something-illionare paused for affect, as she was prone to do most times. "Don't."

With a meal, some relaxation time and hot showers to be had by all the Fallen, despite their differences, were all happy to have some time to simply relax and get some rest. Hades had certainly spared no expense, and while they didn't have the Penthouse suite like her Royal Cigar Smoking-ness, they each had their own room with their own privacy. It was silent among them, but they could all feel it. A small fraction of their power had already begun returning to them. Cast from their homes eons ago by their brethren they were thrown far out of Fate's sight and it's pull. Now though, Broder had pulled them back into it's fold. The Three Sisters now could see the Fallen clearly in their sight across all possible worlds in every possible outcome. To face their fates would be the greatest of challenges and here in Atlanta, their journey would begin.

Hades's penthouse around dinner time on the third day...

Yeah, Hades sure didn't spare any expense when it came to living large. Wealth was not uncommon among the Fallen, aside from Gunnar most of them had been living pretty well and making a decent income. Hell, Batya was rich and with her back account alone could be living pretty for several lifetimes. Hades on the other hand was beyond rich and everything about the fallen god seemed to scream 'expensive'. The penthouse was, of course, lavishly furnished and richly decorated, ot that this came as a surprise to anyone. The cigar smoke lingering in the air, despite the hotels no smoking policy gave away the occupants identity the moment the other fallen gods opened the door.

"Well I hope everyone has had time to relax and sight see, because our time to go to work is upon us." As always Adriana was in a three piece business suit that stripped away most of her femininity and made it look like she had the shoulders of a linebacker. She cut right to business without even a greeting. "Room service shall be here any moment, I thought we could enjoy dinner together as we familiarized ourselves with one another and where out particular strengths lie."

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"And hello to you too, Fem-Man." Sunny muttered with obvious intent to snub in response under his breath. When Adrianna shot a glance at him, Sunny's face looked ahead towards the rest of the palatial room with a practiced 'I didn't say anything' expression on his face. "Well, since the food is likely to cost more than I ever made in a decade- I'll be pillaging it first thing I get... after I check it for safety's sake."

Seeing the expressions bestowed on him, Sunny scowled. "Might as well be the first one to share his story." He vaulted onto a couch and leaned his head back.

"Name, Sunny Kay, now I'm getting back to Sun Wuking, The Handsome Monkey King. I'll admit to being paranoid since getting kicked out by the Celestial Bureaucracy, but honestly. I got to where I was by pissing off a fucking multitude of titanspawn, gods and Scions, plenty of whom would go after mortal me out of revenge. So a habit of wandering and looking over my shoulder for a millennium really. China, Japan, England, Netherlands- thank the Dutch traders for that... and eventually, I'm here. Naturally, I've kept my core talents- acrobatics, evasion, and various martial arts sharp. And plenty of other such related skills aren't lacking either. I'd think I'm someone you'd want on the heist team, when we get to that."

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  • 2 weeks later...

"We're all on the heist team," Batya said firmly, "One way or another, we'll all have something to do." She glanced at Sunny and couldn't help but smirk. "Sunny Kay though?" She shrugged and raised her voice a little to address the group.

"Batya Ben Gurion, formerly known as Bastet. I've been a lot of things, but I settled into the business of soldier. Right now I have a squad of special-ops trained soldiers under my command. We've gotten DOD contracts as deniable assets in Pakistan and Afghanistan doing counter-terrorism and hunt and kill. We've lately done a few for the Mexican government...targeted hits on cartel fortified sites. And I lead from the field. I don't ask my men to do anything I don't do myself." With a nod she finished up with, "I'm familiar with modern combat technology and tactics, fully trained in krav maga, and I don't flinch from the hard decisions."

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"I feel like zis is A.A meeting." Gunnar grumbled quietly. Of course, being Gunnar, his 'quiet' grumble bounced around the room like a noisy wooden ball on a tin roof. He met the mixed looks with a glower. "Vot? It does. 'Hello everyone, my name is Gunnar and I am a fallen thunder god'." He folded his massive arms across his chest and glared. After the airport incident, he'd been in a perpetual bad mood.

"Well, of all of us I'm sure you're the expert on those. Perhaps you'd like to introduce yourself properly?" Hades suggested with a raised eyebrow. Gunnar made a rude noise, then sighed.

"Fine." He slapped his solid chest and made a gesture that could well mean 'obviously'. "I am Gunnar, and I was Thor, son of Odin and wielder of Mjolnir. I spent most of the last thousand years fighting in mortal armies, until they started becoming all about soldiers and objectives and less about warriors and glory. Last hundred years or so, I've been a sailor, a construction worker, a legbreaker, and a prizefighter... before they made that boring with those stupid sissy gloves. I know how buildings are put together... and how to take them apart." A fierce blue eye studied Batya and Sun Wukong. "I wouldn't know this krap maka if I pissed on it, and I don't dance pretty enough to do any Bruce Lee shit. But I've never met anyone I couldn't beat in a fight. A week ago I tangled with a goddamned Valkyrie, and I sent the bitch home pancake-shaped too. That kind of luck and balls you cannot train in." He picked up a bottle of beer and twisted the cap off, tossing it into a plant feeder before draining the bottle in one pull. The bottle joined it's cap, and he reached for another, looking around. "Who's next?"

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Meanwhile, some time ago in Los Angeles...

"And they just let him go!?" Marshall Fredrikson fumed as she crossed her arms and let herself fall back against the wall. Rolling her eyes she just shook her head speechless now as a tumult of replies and arguments swirled in her mind. Finally she just settled on massaging the bridge of her nose with a heavy sigh to express her frustration with the competence of Homeland Security. "Where did they let him go?"

"They didn't have anything on him!" One of her fellow Marshalls tried to explain. "We can't arrest people just because they 'look like trouble', Sam."

Like a bolt of lightning she strode to his desk and opened the manilla folder on it and one by one began flipping over files with photos attached to them, each one hit the opposite side of the folder face down with a loud thud. "Gunnar Torsdag meets with Batya Ben Gurion, a well established mercenary and Auric Broder, a 'business man' who has a rap sheet as long as my arm and nobody finds that just a bit odd?"

"But the others? Like Adriana Dionekou?" He asked, holding up a very thin file on Adriana. "The woman owns everything, why turn to terrorism?"

"That's our job, to find out the 'whys'. This Gunnar guy is a nobody, a loser. He's a thug in a world of rich people pulling his strings. I want the bosses behind this operation. Broder and Dionekou are up to something big and I want to know what it is." Marshall Fredrikson scooped up her blazer and was putting it on as she made her way to the exit. "Find out what you can on the other two, the chinaman and the goth lady. They fit in somewhere and I need to know what I'm up against."

"Sam! Where are you going?"

"To Atlanta." Echoed through the room as the door closed behind her.

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Part of her wanted to pick up her menu and peruse it, but the others would just see the fat woman preparing to pork up. A second later, she thought, Wha th’ fuck do I care what they think? Picking up her menu, she started to consider dinner, waiting for the salad comment. At Gunners, question, she sighed. “I am the Morrigan,” she said, shifted her bulk on the couch cushions. She was in a bad mood, too; she’d had to ask for a seat belt extender for her chair and a brat across the aisle had snickered at her. “I can fight and tell fortunes,” she offered, aware that neither was completely true but unwilling to concede that she wasn’t the woman she used to be.

Unfortunately, they really could have used the woman she used to be.

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The so-called "Handsome Monkey King" was a fool, as far as Hades was concerned, and that was the only thing saving him; every king knew the value of fools, and the former Lord of the Greek Underworld was no exception. The snarky little ape would serve his purpose, and be discarded when his usefulness and relevance were at an end, as all similar tools were. Ignoring him utterly, without even condescending to glance in his direction, she instead concentrated on listening to the introductions of her erstwhile allies. Batya sounded promising, as did Gunnar, provided he could be pointed in the right direction once his key was wound. The Morrigan, however... What was she to do with a woman so obese her favorite color was probably butter? She shot an exasperated glance at the Agent, who dutifully poured her another glass of scotch. She gave the menu only a cursory glance, and handed it to him when he was finished; her seemingly omnipresent companion already knew what she wanted to order.

"Hades," she intoned somewhat grimly, and despite her attractive feminine exterior, the bleak, fathomless depths of her eyes harbored something of the shrewd gravitas of her former existence. "Most recently, Adriana Dionekou, founder and CEO of Dionekos Investment Securities. The last thousand years has not been easy for any of us, I'd wager. While I'd like to say that the trappings of wealth bring me no satisfaction, I'd be lying." Here, she shrugged, and something of the flippancy she'd shown previously returned for a fleeting moment. "The trappings of great wealth bring me as much satisfaction as anything could. It's one of the few things I have left," she added bitterly, swallowing regret along with her scotch. "I know precious little about fighting or the telling of fortunes, though I'm a reasonable marksman and know plenty about the creation of the latter, and I'm generally considered bloody fucking brilliant. Also," the olive-skinned entrepreneur added thoughtfully, "modest, well-dressed, and a member of several civic groups, including most of the ones in the city I've just acquired."

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  • 4 weeks later...

"Aright," Batya said, "Now that we're acquainted, we need a plan. Every good plan starts with intel, which we don't have, so we'll have to gather it ourselves. The good news is that the museum is open to the public and the target is in a publically viewable area, so we shouldn't have any trouble casing it visually. I think Sun and Morrigan are good choices for casing. Neither has a prominant public persona. Gunnar is physically imposing and will probably have at least one guard shadowing him at all times while he's there. Hades is too recognizable. I'm a gamble...I'm well-known in certain circles, and a well trained guard might notice that. Unlikely, but possible. I think it might be best if I was on the scene, but coordinating via earmic and not actually casing or photographing."

She nodded at Hades. "You and Gunnar could be diversions. Attract attention from other people and guards to give us a chance to access or photograph restricted areas. Ideally, if nothing goes wrong and we don't set off any alarms, we can put the photos together and make a map, work out our plan of attack and hit it that night."

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Sun listened in and nodded quietly, Batya had a good sense of what to do here. Definitely a jack of trades here. "Sounds good. Honestly, with distractions for good measure, I can probably sneak about the place, though Morrigan and I should sweep the item's surroundings observationally first. Then a little search for other areas we might need to cover, from there."

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"I ken do a distraction, too," Morgan said with a nod, "effin' it's needed. People tend ta pay attention if the fat woman starts to complain her chest is hurtin'." The word 'fat' was said with a remarkable amount of nonchalance; only someone good at reading others would be aware of her unhappiness with the word. "But al'n all... Hades told us we'd be gettin' in as consultants, which makes distractions hopefully unnecessary. Put Gunner in a suit, give'm an earmic an' sunglasses, slick back all that fiery red hair, an' he'd be lookin' like a highly paid thug. Put Son an' Bast in suits, and give'em clipboards, and they ken take notes all day. Just put me in a dress an' I'll wonder around remarkin' on all the lovely art, takin' pics left 'n right for reference. Play some art scholar or critic or some shite like that." She eyed Hades. "Ye'll be yeself, right?"

She heaved her bulk back and arched an eyebrow. "Now how's that fo' a plan, ye muckers?"

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Sunny chuckled as he remembered something. "I like it, but didn't our host suggest something like that back at the Bar? Then again, that's probably why we didn't think it was a good idea then." Considering the contempt thrown his way by the fallen Hades, he felt turnabout fair play.

OOC
Gunnar's been absent for some time, and Hades, for a while. Are you going to control them for now, Dave?
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"I've grown accustomed to certain necessary pronouns," Adriana replied loftily, the ice cubes rattling in her glass as she offered the former Celtic war-goddess an expansive gesture with her free hand. "Obviously, I'd prefer more accurate references, but in the interest of convenience, and to avoid any inadvertent faux pas, you may as well consider me female. The rest of the world recognizes me as a woman, and the nature of my true identity is more easily disguised as such. Truthfully," she added lowering her voice, "as much as I loathe it, the benefits of being an attractive human female are considerable when dealing with doddering old farts and lecherous miscreants during negotiations." The suit-clad entrepreneur winked conspiratorially at Morgan and took another long drink from her scotch.

To Batya, she said thoughtfully, "I had considered distractions, or some sleight-of-hand, but the simplest pretense, and the one most likely to gain us access to privileged sections of the museum, is a very, very charitable donation. This will be your opportunity to get an idea where this box is being kept, and how closely it's guarded, without arousing suspicion. It may not even be on display, which is why it's important that you are considered important enough to view it. My plan covers the first half of our little endeavor, so naturally I would expect someone with more experience in matters of infiltration and tactics to organize the second."

She paused for a moment, expectation writ large on her Mediterranean features as she glanced at the door.

"Ah. That will be the food, then."

A small army of uniformed staff paraded into the suite, carefully distributing the meals they'd ordered in polite silence. As they departed, Hades's Agent pressed something into their hands and closed the door behind them, resuming whatever inoffensively quiet task he was about in the adjoining office area.

"And if you don't like my plan," she added, levelling a mildly bemused smirk at Sunny, "you are more than welcome to attempt some fiasco of your own. I'm even willing to offer you the name of an excellent attorney.

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Batya smiled. "If things don't go according to plan...it just means you have to plan faster. Anyway, Hades' plan should work for the recon. She's worth far more than the exhibit, as far as anyone mortal would ever believe. With no motive, they won't suspect a crime."

She nodded at Sun. "The tricky part comes when we get to the crime. But we'll cover that when we know what we're dealing with."

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