2013.10.29 - Calling the Storm

About fifteen minutes after Rose’s somewhat confusing phone call, her cell is calling again. Somehow there is no tracing the call back. Someone is using some pretty nifty trick to disguise the point of origin from the call. If Jack responds, he hears Nate’s voice, not Rose. "Hey, hello. It is me. My phone got thrashed by Magneto, so I am using Rose’s."

Spartan's answer is instantaneous, "I'm on my way." he says flatly, his tone suggesting that he is not happy about something.

There is a brief pause, because Nate is surprised by the response. "What? Er... wait a sec. She is right here, we are fine. The stuff with Magneto was a few days ago. We just went to a party and things got messy. Chances are will be here all night shorting out some stuff. But have you heard anything about an attack in midtown? Possibly some talk about chemical or biological weapons?"

Spartan is quiet for a long moment, "I heard the word quarantine in the background analysis of her previous phone call Nathaniel." his tone is soft, but remains iron hard. "You don't know me well, but certainly you know me well enough to realize my concern is genuine and my response will be swift."

"I have been quarantined a couple days myself," replies Nate. "There is an altered mutant spreading deadly plagues loose. He is actually one of the good guys, but currently he is under mind control and his powers are scrambled. One of the folks here was exposed and now is very sick. But we will be alright, they have top medical tech and a mutant healer. We will be out by the morning."

Spartan is quiet for a long moment on the phone, and there's some background noise, a soft hum, then he speaks, "Okay." he says simply, sounding not so 'SPARTAN SMASH' now. "I'll call off the air strike." his tone is wry and kidding. Right? "I am somewhat concerned that it took Rose's phone call to inform me of this... but you are confident your friends and you can contain this I trust you to make the call." it might have taken a moment but he seems to have altered his mood drastically in record time.

"You know Rose, she likes being told to sit and wait about as much as me." But after two days burning with fever and drugged to the gills, even Nate would prefer to sit and wait a few hours. "Listen, there was an attack in Manhattan. This guy, he calls himself Pestilence now, is deadly for most humans or super-humans. But you can take him out, he can’t get you with any disease, can he?"

"Of course not." he says flatly, "Not even if I was still my old self. Your biological agents don't affect my species." plus you know... android. So there's that. "I assume you would like this handled rather quietly and not with a protracted battle across the better part of Midtown?" Spartan seems to be in a much better mood finding out his people aren't, you know, being held prisoner.

"I rather if Pestilence wasn't hurt," confirms Nate. "He is brainwashed now, but he is one of the good guys. Unfortunately, he is not alone. A few other super-beings got captured and transformed too. Including... hmm, you never met Jackie, the Darkness, right? I think it was just before we found you."

"Wasn't hurt, or wasn't maimed? Because a concussion technically harms him but is hardly lasting damage." and Nate needs to be clear here, because it could be important. Is Spartan allowed to punch the guy in the face or not? "No, we have never met, but he is the sort we keep tabs on. I suspected he was one of the Daem upon my learning of his abilities, but ruled that out. He's not violent enough. What of him?"

"Wasn't –too- hurt, I mean," clarifies Nate. "Concussions and broken bones are okay, I guess. I am sure he will understand when he is back to normal." There is some chatter, Nate is covering the micro with a hand, but that doesn’t really work for Spartan sharp electronic senses. He is telling someone about bringing a ‘friend’ that could greatly help to stop Pestilence. "Darkness has some kind of magical inherited dark powers that let him conjure demons and dragons and some kind of super-armor. Illyana could give you the technical details. I know he is pretty powerful and if he turns his powers on normal humans it is going to be a massacre on par with one of Apocalypse’s cullings. Look, let me ask if you can come here, this is a worldwide threat and not just mutant business anymore."

Spartan is quiet for another moment, "As you wish. Try to keep your relationship with us, or at least who 'us' is, on a need to know basis Nathaniel. Your friends are not known for their level headed approach to most problems and if what you say is true then I havn't the time to go to war with misguided mutants."

Wait, Stormwatch is known for level-headness? Rose? Nate? Conner? Nate snorts. "Right. When this is over we need to talk about who we should trust or not about certain matters." This goes also for the X-Men, really, he will talk with Scott and Jean. "I’ll text you some coordinates in a few." He gives the cell to Rose and goes to talk with some ‘misguided mutants’.

Rose had been listening, but pacing, she was still not-so-pleased about being stuck indoors during the quarantine, no matter what Nate assured her or Laura said about her being able to 'find her way out of any cage.' There was a way out and she came only with her small hi powered pistol strapped high upon her thigh... Despite her panic rising she was not going to draw it on those present... Yet. Taking the phone back it at least gave her something else to do with her hands and her mind. "I don't like this. Spartan; fuck the fact that the Horsemen are loose right now. I am crammed in a black dress that took 2 hours to squeeze in, I think my lungs are giving up the fight... And I'm stuck in a room with -weird- people... And no alcohol to spike the punch bowl with while I'm risking being riddled with the bubonic plague carried by a pink chick. This shit ain't sparkly. I. Want. Out."

Spartan's amusement is clear in his voice, "Would you like me to bring you a change of clothing and something stronger then watered down fruit punch?" he asks cordially, "I, after all, don't need to be quarantined."

"At.." Rose's voice gets muffled a bit as she pins the phone between her cheek and her shoulder. "This rate.." Tearing can be heard, the one sleeve the dress has is past tense, flinging it off her arm until it falls lamely to the floor, it was the strap that wrapped around her neck, but thankfully the dress is tight enough to hold itself up on her chest, but now that she could reach behind her she is tugging at the criss crossing fabric of corset lacing up her back. "..I'll need a censor bar on all fronts, but the alcohol..." Rip! Rose had sat down and worked the dress slits higher up to her hips. "Would make it excusable. Right? right." She lowers her voice to a whisper now. "They're playing Miley Cyrus, this isn't quarantine, its torture. If I get a rash from anything it will be through the soundwaves from that hooker." Her voice got very small in response to his amusement at her misery and panic. "Help me." Sounds like an order for a snuggy and a handle of Crown.

‘Kwa, you got that bourbon...’ Nate’s voice is interrupted by the sounds of cloth ripping. There is a moment of silence. "You know, you looked great in that outfit. But if it was that bad, you could have told me." It wouldn’t be the first time he has to ‘fix’ her clothes. Don’t ask. But usually it is just a bit of telekinetic magic needed.

Spartan's chuckle cuts through the phone easily, "Well I may be needed to help stop a plague carrying mutant from creating an extinction event or whatever. You may have to suffer, but you have my complete permission to stab the IPod or radio or whatever."

"I will willingly risk my life to be out of here or have them crack a window or... The cost wont come out of my paycheck, because it isn't Halo's!" The dawn of relization came to her with a smile. She could totally wreck that player and only get scorn... Maybe. "In all seriousness though, Nate looks like hell after this Genosha stuff, and Pinkie looks no better and quickly failing. We should have been involved or informed from the go, but I can understand -some- unspokenness on this." She says as she looks over at Nate the minute she hears /Bourbon/. She'll thank him later if he gets it. "I'm in on bringing this to an end as a team, but I think I might be one of the most susceptible people in this room. So... Yeah. Want me to get anything for you to test, or are we just going to go headlong into this once I get out of Homecoming Hell..." Pausing again as Nate speaks to her she smiles at him and coyly bats her lashes. "These things are built to come off in 5 hours. Clocks ticked past an hour ago." Now the grin turned a bit darker. Back to the phone. "So just let me know what you need."

"I told you I went to Genosha because I heard Magneto was preparing a war with humans," notes Nate. "What we didn’t know is Mags was being used by Sinister. He is lucky to still be alive. Sinister is the one responsible for these... apocalyptic horsemen wannabe." Rose has heard about Sinister already, for Spartan it is new, but he will get the full briefing soon. "Just think ‘loudly’ about what you want to be wearing," he says to Rose.

Spartan chuckles again, "Nathaniel believes his people have the situation there under control and I trust him to make the call, every bit as much as I trust you to make the call when it comes to your occasional run in with your Father." he points out. "We are a team, and if we are needed Nathaniel knows my number, he will call. For now, please attempt to keep the assualt charges to a minimum, but I will cover the cost of any property damage you find therapeutically required to accrew."

Rose levels her gaze on Nate and one brow takes a hike up her forehead. No smirk, no smile, just deadpan. "You told us, but left us out." As for clothing."It's not suitable for company." She says as she rises to a stand, freezing as Spartan mentions her father. No surprise he managed to figure it out, as the knowledge was pretty much vice versa as well, and -none- of it was her choice or doing. Rose scoffs though and proceeds to 'casually' move towards the radio system, most were distracted anyway... "Tch, you haven't seen him, we should have -been- there, or maybe it's best we weren't so we can handle it now." A woman of action, even as her hand reaches behind the music stand and grabs a fistful of wires...

Nate hrmphs. Magneto was also personal business. Looks like Rose took really badly his going to investigate Genosha. It is not fair considering she keeps picking mercenary contracts and getting back to Halo all beaten up. Hey, I am glaring to you, stabby-girl. On the other hand most people here is going to be grateful when she kills the stupid music.

Spartan is quiet for a long moment, "We can't do it all Rose, and I need to trust my people. I will trust you when it comes to your Father, I will trust Nathaniel when it comes to his people... until I'm given a reason not to. You've all earned that much. Now, I'm going to run some quick calculations and see if I can't spot our Typhoid Mary from the sky. You don't hurt anyone if you can avoid it, unless it's Nate. He can take it."

Touche, but some things are to kill idle time and she wouldn't have idle time if... Rose catches that glare and returns it, and as she does so the music amplifies, screeches and then goes dead as the broacast is unplugged in one fell swoop. Leaning back against the table she begins peeling the speaker wires down one yellow, green, blue wire at a time - like a twizzlers pull and peel. She has to always be moving, doing something, this will keep her busy for a while. "Not right now he couldn't, but I'll do what I have to, or what I feel, you know me." She sighs then and looks around the space and the people. "Void can't beam me out?" It was almost the last shot whiney insistant tone of a child wanting to stop down a toy aisle before departure. "This sucks. As soon as I am out of here I got ears to the ground. Bye Sparty-poo." Click. She was being bull headed about it, unrelenting. It wasn’t totally that she didn't trust Nate's choices... She didn't like the outcomes.