2013.07.27 - Two Knights Defense

The Genoshan colors fly over the main gate, which is where Fury's car stops at. A short exchange with the guards and a credential check gets Fury waved in, and the car pulls up to the main gate. A pair of mutants- heavyset combat types, selected for brute fury up close, close in on Fury's entourage, and escort Fury up the steps and down a long hallway, to a lavishly appointed office behind a set of double doors. One wall is dominated by a fifteen foot tall bookshelf, heavily laden with tomes- the other wall, a massive portrait of Magneto depicted as Michael slaying the beast, radiant with power.

With his back to the large bay windows, Magneto, Imperator of Genosha, sits behind a massive writing desk. A set of whirling spheres normally connected by some means of levers or wires spins suspended by nothing visible. Magneto smiles neutrally and rises as Fury enters the room, moving to stand in front of his desk. "Director Fury. A pleasure to finally meet the man behind the legend," Magneto says in a resonant bass. "Please, do come in and make yourself comfortable. May I offer you some refreshment?" he asks. A butler, almost invisible in the shadows, appears with a silver tray, upon which sit a small selection of drinks and a few cigars.

The Director of SHIELD takes all the security measures in stride, even if a couple of his own aides aren't that thrilled with the idea. Any complaint is quieted before anything finds voice with a curt wave of a hand, but there's simply one thing that the man won't relinquish.

His cigar.

Upon entering the Embassy proper, it appears that he simply shouldn't have been concerned. Rather, his aides really shouldn't have been concerned about that one point. (After all, there is no little hassle when visiting other countries!)

Director Fury waves off his small entourage, encouraging them to remain outside as he enters. It's only a brief moment as Fury takes in the room; the little whirling do-dads and such. Nice touch.

"Mr.. Magneto," comes the easy response, and he finishes the cross of the room, standing before the large desk. "I was hoping to get a chance to meet you. Much easier here than a flight out. Not that I wouldn't have taken a plane out, mind. But this.."

The offer of refreshment is given consideration, and he nods his head in agreement. "Sure.. thank you."

Pulling out one of the chairs, the Director makes himself comfortable, and whistles softly. "You've been making a real name for yourself lately." Operative term: lately. "Impressive rise."

Magneto gestures at a pair of seats adjacent to one another, all done in rich corinthian leather and what looks like mahogany. "Please, make yourself comfortable," Magneto says, accepting his own glass of scotch from the butler. He considers Fury's words with a small smile. "Well. After my exile from Genosha, I had ample time to consider the errors of my ways. It wasn't hard to take a more objective position on the matter and consider what mistakes I had made. I have taken steps since then to consolidate myself more assertively during the early days of my reign, and thus far I think I have adequately avoided the major mistakes of my prior reign. As they say, 'No man is ready to be king'. I feel quite a bit more confident in the stability of Bastion and my relations with the rest of Genosha, this second time around." He sips his scotch and smiles at Nick. Despite the fact that he and Nick are of an age, Magneto has that presence that so many people just tend to find to be almost grandfatherly in person. "I'm sure SHIELD is quite in an uproar over my return. I imagine you had more than a few operatives in place in Fortress keeping an eye on their activities there."

When is a butler not a butler? When that butler happens to be one of the most dangerous shapeshifters on the planet. For Mystique it's but another temporary role to play. Standing silently, ever vigilant to catch requests from either of the men present, some might cosider it degrading but she happens to be getting something out of it as well.

A face to face encounter with the Director of SHIELD.

Right there, 'I was hoping to get a chance to meet you.' More than enough syllables, spoken directly where she can hear them being said. It's everything that she needs to perfectly copy Nick's voice at a time of her choosing, and this meeting's only just getting started. The possibilities are endless, the rewards priceless. And the best part of all?

Fury wouldn't have a damned clue that it's happening.

This is Mystique's last critical run of info gathering before upping the stakes, in ways that few are aware of and fewer still will be prepared for.

Isn't life grand?

"'Assertively' is a way to put it," comes wryly from the Director. "Problem is, death of hundreds, rightly or wrongly, gets the attention of someone, somewhere." It's a casual tone Fury takes, conversational, between two men who have killed, had people killed, and have undoubtedly sent men off to die. "Some countries are mired in political bullshit- you know, the monster you know is better than the monster you don't know, and others?" He raises his hand to snap his finger, "Gone."

It's all so pleasant still, however, and he sits back in his seat. "SHIELD in an uproar? We're dealing with Egypt, Syria, Russia even. You've got othere people's panties in a twist, though, which sadly means that this conversation became necessary, as opposed to desired." The hand that rose waves idly. "As for operatives in Fortress? There are always people who are unhappy and look to find aid in different corners. I don't necessarily need operatives. You know that. Friendlies who don't know what it is they're actually saying?"

"I quite understand," Magneto says, with a smile that appears completely sympathetic. "Still, these things happen. Friends end up in the wrong area, informants don't get word to leave quite in time. The deaths were quite regrettable, but an unfortunate necessity of the campaign to reassert my lawful authority- you will recall," Magneto says, with an idle flip of his finger, "that the United Nations had legally recognized me as the soverign of Genosha. If anything, I was executing a number of squatters who had forcibly ejected me from my home." Magneto sips of his scotch with the air of a man savoring his drink in slow measures. "And had done so with rather violent means, I might add. One does wonder how Fortress had managed to acquire such a large cache of Sentinels," he remarks, a bit whimsically. "For a defunct government program, they are popping up with alarming frequency. Mutant catching robots, illegal, unethical, and yet it seems you can buy them on the black market for a few million dollars each. Remarkable, modern commerce," the Imperator comments in a dry tone. "I should hope that the transaction of illegal weapons technology would be more a worry for the G-20 nations than a little island off the coast of Africa undergoing a change in leadership."

Oh, the irony of it all. Sentienls do have a habit of popping up all over the place, don't they? On the inside Mystique is highly amused by the conversation as a whole. On the outside, the butler is completely statue-stoic. Standing so perfectly still that he may as well be part of the decor, hands neatly tucked behind himself in wait, but a few steps away from where the others sit. He looks entirely detached, like a machine awaiting its next program transfer. Yet, nothing is missed. Every sliver of information is sorted and filed away for later use.

Nick doesn't know about all of the monsters yet.

"Yeah, I know.. but doesn't mean that the Civil Rights Council in the UN isn't gonna look to sanction you for it. Either that, or put Observers in to be sure that things are ticking along smoothly." History is rife with it, of course, current and past. "Still, worst thing that'll happen is that they meet, write up some document, and hand it to your ambassador in a fancy envelope."

Now, the Director looks to the butler, and a nod, "I'll take one of those drinks," comes before his attention swings back around to Magneto.

"One has to wonder how in the hell several made it to New York City." From the sound of it, the Director isn't happy about the entire idea. Still, it happened and gone. He's still dealing with the fallout with the police commissioner on that one.

"As far as I'm concerned, Sentinels aren't quite as high on the list as the damned 'WMDs' that everyone is screaming about. And chemical gas." Of course they are, however.. "Illegal weapons technology happens all the time. Iran. Iraq. Russia. China. You'd be a fool to believe that it doesn't happen but for one or two instances. And you, sir.. are no fool."

"When the UN Rights Council demonstrates equal concern for the rights of mutants, then I will happily agree to a full audit by the ethics committee," Magneto says with a disdainful tone. "But when I arrived in Fortress, I liberated over five hundred mutants who were being held against their will and under considerable duress. My arrival was intended to preface /my/ presence there, if you'll recall- the Sentinels under Bastion's control had obliterated the Staten Island Mutant Center, and killed several dozen mutants while doing so. I was kidnapped on American soil and forcibly taken across international lines, presumably for incarceration and study. I do not recall anyone objecting to that at the time."

Magneto sips his scotch, rolling it across the ice cubes at the bottom of the glass. "The presence of the Sentinels in New York has bothered me for some time. Illegal weapons tech, internationally deployed... and there was no outcry against Bastion, if I recall. No United Nations investigation launched, no sanctions discussed. Fifty mutants were kidnapped from American soil and taken across international waters to a known testing facility for vivisection and study. Were it not for my very specific plans to liberate them- and Bastion- I imagine they'd have been tossed onto a pile of rotting lab failures by now," Magneto says. "As the Director of SHIELD, you know the scope of the Sentinel program better than most. Tell me, Director- where are all these 'rogue' Sentinels coming from?"

The briefest dip of his head then the butler is elsewhere to prepare Fury's requested drink. Motions are swift, economical, and above all, as quiet as a churchmouse.

It's only a moment of time before he returns, the drink offered forth. No frills, no spills. Suddenly: Drink.

(Best enjoy it now before everything is fed to you through a tube, Fury.)

Where are the rogue Sentinels coming from... Yes, by all means, do mention something about this here. Mystique knows of a few remote locations, herself. The old, inoperable prototypes of Santi, the now defunct manufacturing facility in the Arctic which she's already chosen to liberate for her own uses, the site which Magneto had recently uncovered, there are several. But never enough. Where else can she sink her claws?

The Director of SHIELD sits quietly, listening to Magneto, and there is a light nod once, twice.. and when the drink is placed, offers a quiet 'thank you'.

"I remember the Sentinels. They not only fired on you, but on the police and did millions of dollars of damage to a city that can't well afford it." But, then there's the kidnapping of mutants. "As for responses, well.. one doesn't always see everything that happens, right?"

The drink is lifted to his lips, and it wets his throat in a single swallow before it's lowered once again.

"I'm not gonna offer any pithy, 'Oh hey, sorry about that' that doesn't mean shit. What I am gonna say, however, is that part of that lack of response is why you got your free ride. Countries are really happy to sit and watch to see who comes out on top."

As for the scope of the Sentinel program? The Director offers a smile, and his single eye lands easily upon the new self-styled Imperitor's face, eye to eye. "I can neither confirm nor deny the knowledge of the Sentinel program. What I can say, however, is that it is currently not within my jurisdiction. As for the rogues? No idea."

"Yet."

"I had hoped you would prove to be a bit more tractable," Magneto sighs, finishing his drink. "But I can hardly fault you for protecting your program." He finishes his scotch and sets it aside, then rises. "I'm afraid that's all the time I can spare you today, Director Fury," Magneto informs the man with a cool tone. "If you wish to arrange a longer interview, it will have to wait until after my speech for the Summit." He lifts his chin at the door, and by some unseen signal, the guards come back into the room. "Escort the good Director to his car, gentlemen. Director Fury, a good day to you," Magneto says, with a slight inclination of his head. "Travel safely."

(You're the head of SHIELD, it's your job to keep track of everything, you bloody dolt.)

Mystique's shrouded mind kicks the thought about with completely hidden sarcasm, though it's good to know that SHIELD can be caught off guard. Spread their attention too far and too thin and they, too, can miss things happening directly in their back yard. She'll be putting this further to the test in good time, in so many different ways.

Until then, she's giving the man a drink. One must make a few sacrifices while on the road to greatness. She didn't even spit in his glass! That much can be saved for direct application to the Director's face after she's made her move and done her damage.

The pieces are lining themselves up nicely. Soon...

"Tractable?" Nick puts his glass down on the desk, and pushes it lightly. Fingerprints. DNA. He's more than aware, and he's betting on the fact that they'll probably use it. More likely than not.

Rising to his feet, the Director shrugs lightly, "Even my bosses, and I do have them, find me difficult. I consider it a badge of honor, actually. And can you imagine the whining in offices if I'm overly nice to you, and not them? My pension might be at risk."

Taking a step back, Nick nods his head, "A pleasure talking with you, Mr. Magneto."

A couple steps, then, he turns around and heads out of the room, his aides falling in behind him once the office is cleared.

" 'Imperator', " Magneto corrects, as Nick walks away. "I didn't attend twenty years of doctoral study and conquer an island to be called 'Mister'."