Party at Pete's
Rplog-icon Who: Pete Wisdom, Domino, Romany Wisdom, Dazzler, The Invisible Girl
Where: Pete's Apartment, Chelsea, New York City
When: Afternoon/evening-ish.
Tone: Gritty Social (language warning)
What: Pete called up a bunch of people to discuss plans on the trip to Latveria. Someone not on that list happens to invite herself over. Timing, she's still got it.

Door's opened the way one would expect a paranoid in the industry to open the door: from the side, with no one visible, and with armament at the ready. But it's just Domino, so Wisdom shuts off the fire and the scent of the air scorching goes away immediately. "Looks like I'm behind the times," he says to the woman, "unless you're an LMD or a shapeshifter. You want coffee it's on, I'm packing and waiting on a call."

The woman on the other side of the door makes no attempt to hide herself, standing square in the middle of the doorway with a forearm propping her up against the framework. Attitude is everything, gotta have a memorable pose if she has to wait for someone else to answer the door. There's a pair of black and dark purple shades on the top of her head, but everything else appears to be the same old Domino.

"Glad to see you're being kept in the loop--Christ, your apartment looks like Hell. Is the coffee safe?" She's inside, though maybe she doesn't want to sit on the furniture. "We secure?" she inquires, waiting for some sort of confirmation before diving into an info dump. She tends not to give all of the details away to anyone so easily, buuut... Time and place for everything. "I'm just gonna start from the top, stop me if you've heard any of this."

"I've been back for about a week. Shift's free to come and go, but he's been given some sort of injection which he said has to be replenished now and then at Latveria or he's going to die. Blink has been compromised. Agent Danvers and Psylocke's status are unknown, we've been -told- that they're both dead but given how many lies have been getting thrown around during our stay at Doomstadt we're not exactly counting on the news being accurate. Here's the kicker: Doom doesn't know that I'm here." Pause. "Or alive. We can use that to our advantage."

"Coffee's safe, coffee's fucking /gourmet/," Wisdom says irritably, as if he has any right to. "Hope you don't need anything in it, because the refrigerator gave out last week and the sugar's got droppings in it. He goes back to shoving things in a go-bag, gives Domino a quick and definite nod when she asks about security, then kicks the bag to the middle of the floor. "Fucking hell. No, Betsy's not dead or I'd have her brother breathing down my neck. Go on." 'Go on', he says, pulling up the futon and dragging a lockbox out from underneath it. Sorting begins to happen. "And when you've a chance, tell me who Shift and Blink are."

Black coffee works just fine for this lady, breaking off from the main room to find a mug that looks passably clean. "SHIELD's obviously paying you well," she says in a flat tone, pouring herself a generous amount. "Glad I stayed freelance. Hold up, kid--Betsy has a -brother?-" There's little that could be said these days which would truly surprise Domino. You've just found one of those things.

After making -sure- that her question has time to sink in she finds the nearest patch of wall to lean her shoulder against, watching you with a detached expression. "Blink is a teleporter. Smallish, looks like an elf done to medium-rare. Shift is a buddy of mine, and Bets. They both got caught up in this mess, obviously."

"'Kid'," scoffs Wisdom in the middle of a seven-second disassemble-reassemble of a handgun, which he shoves in the back of his waistband when finished. He takes some papers out of the box and opens his shirt, jamming them in whatever he's wearing under it. "Yeah. She has a twin brother. Don't roust him unless you need him, he's overbearing and very very international incident." He doesn't address his salary or the shape of his apartment -- but there's a Delta Green mug that's unused and upside down in a cupboard. Never mind how the sink smells.

"So, a compromised teleport and a magic heroin addict. Or whatever the fuck the injection is. Magic insulin. Insulin heroin nanites. It's Doom, God only knows. And he's still got Danvers and Betts, says they're dead which probably means they're unconscious and at the other side of a labyrinth of deathtraps or sommat, being experimented on. How can you be sure of Shift's loyalties? Or that he's not a sleeper, if you've a functional telepath handy? No, I'll hold my questions. Keep going."

"You heard me, deal with it," Domino says around the rim of her mug. It's surprisingly refreshing to be in the company of someone that can handle her usual gruff side and not have it lead to actual fights or hurt feelings. Some people... Too damn soft. The news about Betsy's brother is saved, mentally filed for later use. Seems she's got some more research to do regarding her previous 'boss.' The flurry of motion from you leaves her inclining her head a few degrees, asking "Catch you at a bad time?" Not like it's going to stop her. She's here, now. You can deal with that, too.

"Nanite somethingorother," Dom corrects. Shift's loyalties, now that's an interesting question... "Honestly? I can't. Always keep one eye and ear on the guy. He's done well by us so far. Worked some particularly gruesome jobs. Voluntarily. No pay. Even followed us to Latveria, mostly because of Bets. She's a telepath and she trusts him, should amount to something. Way his luck has been turning out, I think a sleeper agent would have committed suicide by this point. Backing up some, Doom had told me that Shift was dead, and ditto for him about me. Much as I'm not a fan of risking my life a second time around for a great big 'maybe,' I'm willing to bet the odds are in our favor."

"Tch," Pete says semi-disgustedly at the 'you heard me'-- but all it otherwise gets from him is an eyeroll. He shuts the box and kicks it back underneath the futon, which he puts back just as dishevelled as it was before, and then he straightens up and slings the go-bag up and onto the nearest level surface, causing a landslide of rubbish. A cockroach skitters out of a lo mein box and under an end table. "Only getting ready to leave. Said I was waiting on a call. Now they can wait on whatever else you need to tell me about this. And also whether or not you're heading up this op; last I knew Logan was and he had no plans, so I started making some of my own. I've got a healer and an occultist and a giant fucking red demon and Deadpool on tap; I've also *probably* got Alison Blaire, who's got some fucking phenomenally underhanded applications of that power of hers. I was hoping Logan was going to set something up loud and obnoxious, and my lot could work on getting past wards and scrambling internal security. But if you're *out*-- give us the rest of what you've got, love."

Dom wrinkles her nose slightly as that roach goes scurrying away--definitely not going to sit on the furniture now. "All I know plan-wise is that there's takl of a stealth op and a distraction op, and I'm not sure where you're getting the rest of your intel but I'm not -out.- I'm part of this show. I was told that I could get some tight network comms from you, need one for myself and one for Shift at the very least. And--god, you dropped Deadpool's name back there, didn't you," she says with a tiny sigh. "Put that boy on the distraction force, if we're all trying to be sneaky he's not gonna make things any easier for us. Now, I'm planning on Shift being part of the shadow team. I'd going to be there, as well." Screw asking, she's telling. "Especially with Doom not knowing that I'm still alive and kicking, the less he knows the better it'll be for the rest of us. Now, last I heard no one's actually planning on -leading- this." Groan. "Which means you guys might need someone around to help call the shots." That could be her, if absolutely necessary.

"Then it's me," Wisdom says flatly. "Which is fine. You've got field on the shadow op, and you'll need Rain, the healer; she can see to Bets and Danvers if they're in need of it. Means you also get Shift, which is good because you know him and I don't. If my sister's going, she's shadow as well; she's the occultist. I'd rather Blaire not be seen; her life doesn't need to get any more fucked up by this shit than it is, and her underhanded shit -- sound and light -- works better for fucking up security. So take her. I'll take Hellboy and Deadpool and Logan, whoever else is on the distraction team. Any other names for that?"

"Gonna be one big fucking party," Domino says in that flat tone once more, finishing her coffee in record time and going back for seconds. "You're gonna lead? This should be interesting." Does she have any names to add..? "Hell, anyone that I could think to bring along is either already a part of this show or is relying upon it for a rescue. Anyone else is either occupied, unavailable, or not trustworthy enough for this sort of run."

Dom doesn't have a whole lot of -friend- friends, either.

"Gonna be weird being on another op with ya, Wisdom. It's been a helluva long time, semi-recent Gotham shennanigans aside."

"Heh," says Pete, shoving the broken television aside and flipping open the back of it. He takes out a couple of small devices, then straightens up and nudges the back of the set closed with his knee, then comes back over to hand them to Domino. "Comms. They're SHIELD property so I'll need them back unless they get blown up; they're already set on the frequency determined unused by Latverian intel, and they've had their SHIELD frequencies removed and third-party encryption replacing SHIELD's shit. For the record," and this last is incredibly wry. "Not that I know how much these go for on the open market, or anything."

The Englishman glances toward the telephone, frowning. "And my sister's not called yet. God knows what the fuck she's doing. I was hoping she'd come by while you were still here. Anyroad-- if I've got the op, then I'm insisting on mutual updates. The idea's that the outside lot can keep the explosions going until you've had time to get in, find them, and get out-- there any way to get the teleport on our side? Any chance it's brainwashing or magic or science that's got her under?" Wisdom snaps his fingers. "I can also likely get an archer on the distraction side."

The woman's smirk could easily match your tone as you hand the comm units over, leaving them in her palm to give them a more proper inspection before depositing them all into a trench pocket. "Considering what happened to the last tech of theirs that I had 'borrowed' I may wind up owing you a lot of drinks in the near future." Just to help build your confidence and all.

Further complicating matters... "Doom seems like a fan of traditional brainwashing without bringing magic into the mix. I think he enjoys his work a little too much. Didn't use any magic with me, though he did employ some gadgetry and the like. Shift and I got to see a holo image of Blink, referring to Iron Trousers as 'my lord,' so something's gotten through to her. I don't know if we can ween her back to our side in time, it's entirely possible that we'll need to tranq her and carry her out. As for the rest... I should probably come clean to you on something."

But only after she's had more coffee.

"I don't know what the inside of Doomstadt looks like. I was caught out in the field. Woke up in a cell. I've seen the interiors of some less than friendly rooms and nothing more. We want to find the others, we're going to need an old fashioned tracker. Anyone that goes inside is going to be flying blind." May good fortune be with them all, because it's already with her.

Wisdom, while he is absolutely paying attention to Domino's coming clean, has held up a hand. His eyes are on the phone. Then he signals to Domino not to draw anything, and his hand flares up to its hard-to-look-at sharp and brilliant shards of superheated plasma and singes the air once more. He keeps talking in a perfectly ordinary voice, getting ready to fling open the door. "He may be a megalomaniac, he may be a genius, he may be a tyrant and capable of just about anything, especially in defense of what's already his-- but if there's one thing he's not, it's 'unpredictable'. I sort of figured you'd say something like that--"

Door FLUNG OPEN, hand pulled back and visible, face twisted in exasperated irritation: that's how Romany's little brother greets her. "Bint. Get in," he says, powering down. He walks back to the kitchen and fishes for another clean mug. "And shut the door. I need your bizarre expertise and you can hang that over my head instead of the nonsense from the pub, if you know what's good for you."

Family resemblance: black hair, pale skin, cheekbones. Not clothes. Not build; the woman in the hall doesn't appear to have been half-starving herself outside the alcohol. She regards Pete with a regally skeptical air, as if she were the one who'd caught him eavesdropping rather than the other way around; but she does step inside, and she does close the door behind her. "He's always been terrible at introductions," she comments to Domino, taking her appearance and accessories apparently in stride. "We can leave it that way if you'd prefer."

What, should Domino be all on edge tonight? It's not her place, she's off the clock (though technically she probably should be doing what she's being paid to do right now instead of this,) and she's enjoying gourmet coffee in a mostly clean mug. She just stands there, leaning with a shoulder to a patch of wall by the kitchen area, stoic as can be.

"He's in good company, in that case," Dom replies in regards to the lack of introductions. "Welcome to the party."

A moment later and she admits "Doom does seem to have this whole supervillain thing plotted out. Bet he wrote the book on stereotypical overlord rule. We're still going to have to watch out, that guy's got eyes and ears all over his damned country. Even the shadow run is going to be noticed, all we can hope for is to have as much time as possible beforehand. Always with the quick and quiet, why can't it ever be slow and quiet, or slow and loud? Just slow..? For once? There's something to be said about taking one's time." A brief pause follows as she realizes that could be taken completely out of context. "So yeah, we won't have long."

"Right," Pete says, procuring a Disappearing Tardis mug which he has to wash out, which doesn't help in not disturbing the smell from the sink; he pours Romany a cup of the aforementioned gourmet coffee. "Whatever. Romy, this is Domino. Dom, this is my sister. Obviously. Dom, gimme a second to bring her up to speed because she as yet hasn't the faintest idea what's going on." He hands his sister the mug, and then goes over to open the back of the broken television, and this time he pulls out a shit-ton of bitty streamlined black devices and dumps most of them in the go-bag on top of the kitchen table. Another thing slithers out of another empty food carton in the process, disappearing into a crack in the floor. He hands Romany one of the things. "SHIELD comm. Locked to a frequency unused by Latverian intel. I'll be wanting it back. You remember how I joked I was using the money from that godawful check to fund mercenaries to invade Latveria and extract personnel? I wasn't joking. And since it's Doom and he uses magic, I need your help. Wards, scrying, guessing based on the fact that Doomface uses ceremonial magic-- like Dom said, we've no map of the inside. Ideally I'd like you *with* Dom's team, stealth as it is; I'll be outside with the loonies blowing shit up and being a distraction. The two of you'll need to talk-- if you *can't* go, or won't, that's fine, but anything you *can* give us would be favorite and might just save someone's life."

Romany does not regard the device she's handed as if it were about to explode. (That would be considerably calmer.) She regards it as if it were about to try to slide tendrils into her soul and start a decades-long process of slow corruption, instead. For three full seconds, which in conversational time is approximately an eon. "I'm not generally a team player," she observes mildly. "Then again, I suspect that those are in short supply in this room. Well. Now I suppose I know what John Rhys-Davies felt like in those films. Not that that was one of my life goals." Steady gray-blue eyes flick up to Domino, studying her somewhat more closely for a moment. "Since my little brother is unlikely to have filled you in: my skillset does /not/ include his, and does not include flinging levinbolts or eldritch flame or transformation spells around left and right, either. If things go badly, I'll be very little assistance. But I do know my business. By reputation, if your, ah, unwitting host has put any real attention into any occult precautions, I'll be markedly outdone. But if he's left them to themselves, I might be of more assistance."

"You're good at that spinning and vomiting and speaking in baritone thing," Pete adds helpfully.

When introductions are made, Dom frees one hand from her own coffee mug and offers a slight wave. Attitude. She's got one. Not necessarily the best one, either. She continues to lean and sip while listening to Pete's recap, though it's only a matter of time before she feels the need to interrupt. "Slow down there, kiddo." Her own thought gets interrupted as a massive knee-high boot -slams- down onto a roach that had the nerve to go exploring the floor right beside her. "You're -paying- people for this? Because -I- haven't seen any green-filled envelopes headed my way."

Romy's reaction to being handed that thing is ..curious. Dom's not going to ask too many questions, there. "Hey, if I figured I had a snowball's chance in Hell of succeeding by doing this alone, I would. Teams tend to be nothing but trouble. If you're good at what you do, that's why you're being included. Do what you can to keep us hidden and don't worry about the rest. You're not going to find many out there who are as good or as fast of a shot as me." Confidence. Not arrogance. She's done this before.

"I'm paying people I can count on to be good, but who aren't coming because of a personal attachment or for the bloody fun of it," the scrawny little spy says irritably in Dom's direction. "And I'm paying for any hospital expenses that might come of this shit afterwards, if no one's got a handy purple ray. And no, it's not on SHIELD's dollar, it's out of mine. 'Pool finally paid me back for the fifty thou he borrowed in Singapore, and I've recently soul my soul and am getting royalties on it. So if you're going to bitch about green when *Betsy's in there*, yeah, I'll pay you too, but that's bad, and you should feel bad." Then he starts digging in the other semi-empty takeaway containers, finds something that's not got bugs or mold, and starts eating out of it with his fingers. "And you. Sister dear. This is the other reason I'd like you to speak with Rain: you've a better idea of making sense out of what she says she can do--" A noodle falls on his tie. "--and she'll be going with Dom's lot, too. She is a healer and a magician, but she's *not*, far as I know, an occultist. And she doesn't work from ceremonial. You ought to be fine if you do exactly what Dom tells you in order to stay alive; I trust her with my life, and I'll be damned if I don't trust her with yours."

CLEARING HIS THROAT, Wisdom wheels away from them on one heel and overhands the carton into the rubbish bin, overflowing, then goes to dig in the couch to procure the Scotch. "But. You still don't need to actually *come*. If you can keep that comm-- stay over the border-- set something up with Rain so's maybe you can watch for ambush if it's not warded against scrying or what-the-fuck-ever-- that would *also* be brilliantly helpful. I'm trying to get as many safeguards and redundancies put in place as I can bloody think of."

"That will depend on Rain's abilities. I'm a theoretician; my practical skills involve analyzing and hacking other people's workings, not so much on making my own." Romany glances at the comm again, giving it a disapproving glare. "Also, if you're using this to track me on my own time, little brother, I /will/ leave it in one of the Morgan Memorial Hall exhibits and let you pick it up yourself." There may be a couple of other practical skills involved. Not the absolute peak of the profession, or she'd probably have specified which exhibit. She tips her head toward Domino a moment after, straightforward. "Whether I'm present or not, I'm not stupid enough to give you trouble. Rain and I will work out which route is safest and most efficient."

Well, that trick works. For Pete, that is. Not for Dom. That there conscience thing just loves to get in the way sometimes. Like right now! She's still not going to get paid for this 'job.' She's going to go -back- there and put her life on the line again, just for Betsy and the others.

If Pete thinks that's going to keep his gourmet coffee safe then he's an idiot.

"If there's any chance that you'd be able to work effectively from a safe distance then we'll keep you out of the line of fire. It's going to get messy. I'm not expecting you to give me any trouble, but Doom doesn't seem real keen on uninvited guests, -particularly- those set on causing trouble. Besides, if I let any harm come to you then your brother here would never let me live it down." It's a joke. Probably. Her expression sure isn't giving it away as such.

"Not stupid enough--" Pete repeats in a tone of irritated disbelief, uncapping the bottle of middle-of-the-road scotch. "She's smarter than I am. She's never been -shot-." He takes a swig of the bottle, then offers it around. "Anyroad: I can probably see that you have a tracker. I'll be doing the final rounds tonight and in the morning to see if there's anyone else coming, and whether they have their own methods of doing things and can handle creating a third front." Wisdom will never, ever expect his coffee to be safe. Ever. What Domino doesn't take, Romany probably will. "And you silly cow," he turns on his sister, pointing the bottle neck at her and glowering. "I told you I wanted it back when the operation's done. *I* don't fucking want to know whose shit you're getting into or who you're schtupping. Manky ill-considered horrible spandex dickwads."

"Believe me," Romany agrees to Domino, "I am highly interested in staying out of the line of fire. But some things need to be seen directly; cameras just don't pick them up. We'll see what can be managed in the time we have." Coffee is sipped at. Scotch and brother are both equally ignored; /obviously/ Domino is the only other one in this conversation.

For those listening for such things, there's the sound of footsteps in the hall. Once they stop, there's even the sound of a hand on the doorknob to the entry of the apartment. The doorknob turns -- almost oddly silently.

The door opens slowly - stopping as a horrid squeak is swallowed up sound-wise right as it starts, and then there's no noise at all as the person responsible for the door forces it the rest of the way open. On it's own merits, this is weird. But that the person looks like Lila Cheney, intergalactic rock star, is triply weird. Because Lila Cheney totally counts for two counts of weird.

"The way you're talking to her, I wouldn't be at all surprised if she was responsible for the first time you got shot," Domino chimes in from the side with an amused smirk. Soon enough that expression drifts away as Pete gives her a turn with the bottle. Normally she'd be the first one in line for a hit of the harder stuff. After seeing this joint..? The roach presently caked into the tread of her boot? She absent-mindedly accepts the bottle but is left standing there for a moment with it in hand and not a word coming to her voice. A few uncomfortable seconds pass before she holds the bottle up and visually inspects it for any visible solids or other assorted debris which does not belong. Hopefully a roach didn't get into there.

Y'know what, she's going to pass. Just this once. The bottle gets set down at the first space she can find that's both clear enough for one extra bottle and doesn't look like it might give out from the weight of an extra piece of glass being applied to it. It's set aside just in time for yet another new face, Dom's blank expression now falling upon Lila. "Who ordered the celebrity?"

Wisdom's Scotch snubbed, he sniffs and gives Domino a haughty look. His sister, he's ignoring right back. It's as the door /doesn't/ make a horrible sound that he's starting to take a nice hefty swig, though his eyes are opening wider; he's when the door opens that he spittakes in the new entrant's direction, pointing with a finger that's starting to heat up, and he sputters in wounded outrage. "I have a RESTRAINING ORDER against you, you INTERGALACTIC TWAT. Get out! GET OUT!"

Responsible for the first time Pete got shot? "Hardly," Romany says mildly. "That was Dad." And then there's shouting. Romany glances sidewise toward the door, and decides that coffee is the better part of valor.

Closing the door behind her, "Lila" shoots Domino a look but then Pete is shouting. "Do you really? You'll have to tell me /all/ about it!" Yeah, that's really NOT Lila Cheney's awful cockney accent, either.

Waving her hand over her face, there's a brief sparkling of rainbow-glittering diamonds and then -- that's not Lila Cheney, that's Alison "Dazzler" Blaire. Which may or may not be more or less recognizable depending on your taste in music and pop culture in general.

"Sorry I'm late, Pete, I was wrapping up a practice jam with the house band."

When Romy goes for more coffee, Dom's right there holding the pot in hand. There's a good reason why she didn't stray far from the source, not to mention the brew of the day is the single least revolting thing in this place. That, and maybe this new chick that can't decide which look to settle on. If there's a restraining order between her and Pete then she can't be all -that- bad. "I've apparently missed a few things, myself," she sides to Romy with the return of that mildly amused expression. Then to the new girl, she inquires "Are you a metamorph or something? Because that could be damn useful." Either way, Dom sure picked a heck of a night to show up unannounced. It's all in the timing!

"No. Domino, Romany, this is Alison. She's the one I mentioned I might be able to get," Pete's saying stiffly, moving with the bottle in one hand to take another little comm-thingie out of the go-bag on the overflowingly gross takeaway-thriving table. He offers it to Dazzler like it's the last thing he wants to do right now. "Here. SHIELD comm. Don't fuck with the settings, it's set to be the way we'll need it in Latveria. You'll be taking orders from Domino, there," gesture, "and you'll want your Mission: Impossible panties on."

Half-glance aside at Domino as Pete takes another healthy swig of the scotch. "Sound and light. She'll tell you better what her strengths and limits are. You'll tell her better what she should probably try doing with it. And storytime -- first bullet hole /and/ restraining order -- comes *after* we're all out alive."

Romany's eyes half-lid, but she keeps any skepticism confined to the coffee. After all, Jem and the Holograms skulked, too. Right? ... coffee. Definitely coffee. And listening.

Taking the comm and looking at it like it's got 'Tha Man' cooties on it, Dazzler ends up sort of shrugging and clipping it to the inside of her jacket. "Not a shape-shifter, no. Holographic trick. I absorb sound and turn it into light." Romany gets a nod - and the raised eyebrows of acknowledgment! (The Sister has a name!) Of course, Pete's comments about panties nets HIM another hairy eyeball too, while she adds to Domino, "I'm good in a scrap if it comes down to it, but it's not my first choice idea of fun."

Even without the booze, Domino's mood is starting to lighten up slightly. "Just think, Pete. How often have you managed to score three ladies in this craphole at the same time?" Her attention then returns to Dazzler, quietly regarding the other meta for a second or three before nodding in acknowledgement. "Absorbing sound seems like a useful skill to have. Any chance that you can absorb light, as well?" On the outside, she projects confidence. That 'I'll see everyone out alive and in one piece' sort of aura. On the inside, she's growing concerned. Just how many other people is she going to be in charge of, here..? A small group she can swing in a pinch, but add more numbers to that roster and the challenge grows, rapidly. "Our plan is to avoid fighting as much as possible. We've got people that are relying on us to get out of that place, energy shouldn't be wasted engaging the enemy and giving away our position." That's what the other team's there for!

"This flat is no place for humans, nevermind ladies," Wisdom says sourly, zipping up the go-bag and slinging it over one shoulder. He shifts the bottle to his other hand so he can take out a cigarette and his lighter, fumbling a little so he doesn't have to take the pack out, then lights the thing. In the shifting, there is navy blue beneath the white shirt and loose tie. In the meantime, he seems to either be thinking along the same lines as Domino, or reading the subtlties of her body language. "I *had* been planning on running the stealth bit myself; there are more people on it I know better than you, and I've got used to running with a team. Given the givens, it might be best if I tag Harper with control of the demolition derby, and we split the inside job. You take one and I'll take the other. Ideally I'll be keeping track of all three situations via comm."

Dazzler lets Pete plan out loud - Domino's in charge of this Op but Pete is the one she /knows/ - but as soon as he's done she shakes her head and goes back to the prior subject. "Nope. Sound goes in, light comes out. But anything that can be done with light, I can do it. Holograms, lasers, solid photon shields and such. Plus a bunch of other tricks I developed for the stage that come in handy for being sneaky, believe it or not."

Romany considers the look Dazzler gives her comm, and amends her skepticism in favor of a precise nod in her direction. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Alison. Anyone who can embarrass my brother quite so thoroughly, and all that." She regards Domino for another moment, then inclines her head toward her. "Lest we burn through all the oxygen in the place -- I'll get in touch with Rain, and see what we can do for you." And she steps for the door. Going out rather than in, comm absently tucked under her elbow, handling the doorknob with the same hand as the mug; leaving one hand free in case anything /worse/ is lurking in the hall.

Romany considers the look Dazzler gives her comm, and amends her skepticism in favor of a precise nod in her direction. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Alison. Anyone who can embarrass my brother quite so thoroughly, and all that." She regards Domino for another moment, then inclines her head toward her. "Lest we burn through all the oxygen in the place -- I'll get in touch with Rain, and see what we can do for you." And she steps for the door. Going out rather than in, comm absently tucked under her elbow, handling the doorknob with the same hand as the mug; leaving one hand free in case anything /worse/ is lurking in the hall.

Invisible Girl isn't lurking in the hall, honest. She actually just stepped toward the door from the staircase, pulling the scarf from around her neck and looking for the indicated apartment door. She pulls one hand free of its glove and then startles at the horrid sound of the door opening and almost reflexively backs up against the wall and makes herself invisible until the taller woman has passed by. Then she takes a breath and steps foward to try again with knocking on the door to apartment 3C.

What all can be done with light? The most obvious thought that comes to Domino's mind is the flash from a flashbang. Without the bang part, it's also a bit more stealthy, oddly enough. If there's cameras or other prying eyes, whether biological or mechanical, messing with the lighting around them could prove to be invaluable. Like most things, it's all about how it's used. A little moderation and strategy will see them through just fine. "Good deal. Welcome to the team." Now Romy's on her way out. "We'll catch up later." Y'know. Probably. And then..there's someone else. "Shit, now we're tagging one another out? How many people did you -call,- Pete?"

"As many as I thought might be willing, who I knew had something to offer and I knew I could trust," Wisdom says easily, leaning to put the cigarette out after one long, wholehearted drag. The bottle remains in his other hand as he goes to yank the door open and get the horrid sound over with in one loud go. "Miss Storm," he says genially. "Welcome to my pigsty. Sorry about it, it's not configured for company. As if it ever is." He steps back and gestures her in, then does introductions after he's shut it again behind her. "The woman who just left is Romany, my sister. She's in. This is Domino, and this is Blaire. We're mapping out how we're going to be tackling the situation in Latveria. I thought you might be interested in one of the ops-- Richards as well, but he probably has his own plans -- which I also thought you might know something about. Coffee? It's not killed Domino yet."

"Stress on the yet," Dazzler adds with a wave to Sue. "Granted, it could be an inoculation from the rest of the place. Or vice versa. I haven't quite figured that out yet. Or stepped directing /in/ anything, though I'll stress the yet again there too." Oh, wait, serious planning session is serious business! "Hi."

Invisible Girl startles at the sound of the door opening, and it takes only the briefest hint of the cigarette smoke for her to kick up her personal force field a notch without even consciously thinking about it. She steps into the apartment with a shy smile at Pete, and looks at the other two people already in the room. "Hi. So, um, you called, Mr. Wisdom? I'm sorry Reed couldn't be here also, but he's been busy with a very important project that has an extremely short deadline."

Odds of randomly showing up during an official meeting night at Pete's place: 1 in 95,774.

Odds of encountering someone connected to the very individual that Domino's been needing to get hold of: 1 in 121,413.

When the white-skinned merc overhears the name 'Richards' being dropped, quickly followed up with 'Reed,' she promptly drains her coffee mug of its second fill and sets it aside, pushing herself clear of the wall she had been leaning against. A fork gets displaced enough that it slides off of the counter and strikes the floor but it's completely ignored by her. "Reed Richards. You're connected to him?" she pointedly asks Sue. "I was told that he would be a good candidate for helping an acquaintance of mine with a rather peculiar situation. If at all possible we need to speak to him before our Latverian vacation begins." Social networking at its finest.

"Yeah, Dom, on it," Pere says, putting the scotch down and unslinging the bag on his shoulder enough to unzip the top and take out a tiny black SHIELD comm. This, he offers to Sue. "I've clearance from Fury to do whatever it takes to get Agent Danvers back, and I'll do whatever it takes to get Psylocke back. I'm going to be coordinating one loud frontal attack on Doomstadt with possibly two internal operations aimed at negating the fortress' security and rescuing those still held captive. From what I understand, you'd be extraordinarily helpful on either front. And if you *do* know anything about Richards' plans on the topic, which I have no doubt you just referred to, it would be far better to coordinate with him than interfere."

"Dude," Dazzler says quietly to Domino, "That's the /Invisible Girl./ Don't you remember that crazy space plane accident in the radiation belt a couple years back? Cosmic rays?" Shocked expression and vaguely accusatory tone, "Don't you watch /any/ TV at all?" Shocked! Shocked and /appalled!/ Arms akimbo, Dazzler shoots Pete a 'Where do you FIND these people?!' glare.

Invisible Girl blinks at Domino's somewhat abrupt 'greeting' and Dazzler's reaction. "I, um, yes. Hi." She takes a moment to take off her winter coat, the motion revealing the '4' necklace she's almost never seen without, and then she takes the little comm unit from Pete and stows it in the coat's pocket. "Which acquaintance would that be?" She glances at the others as well. "Reed's already working on a sort of new toy for a man named Logan, so I don't know how much time he'll have to make anything else." The moment the words come out of her mouth she really REALLY hopes that she didn't just give away something the odd and gruff man might not have wanted others to know about. Too late now.

She considers Pete's description of the Doomstadt attack plans and isn't really sure what to say. This is why she defers to one of the others in combat situations. She can't even strategize enough to play Connect Four effectively. "I'll be happy to help however I can."

Domino passes a dark look over to Dazzler. "Work doesn't give me many luxuries, like being able to keep current on the news." Not to mention the utterly reckless abandon she throws at her work. Always pushing herself, always testing her fortune. It's amazing sometimes she even finds the time to sleep. Often enough, she doesn't. "So, great, I've met a superhero celebrity tonight in this rinky-dink piece of shit apartment. Lucky me." When Logan's name is dropped she inclines her head a touch further, suddenly all the more thoughtful. "Could be that it's for the same situation. His name's Shift, Logan was the guy that gave me Reed's number." Then, finally, she adds in to Pete's bit of info "We're looking for Blink, as well." Compromised, she can handle. A swift hit to the noggin or a good tranq dart and there'll be time to mend the damage somewhere more suited for it.

There's a shift in gears on Pete's thin face-- it's primarily relief that floods it after some quick calculating. "All right, love," he says with a nod, zipping up the bag again and shouldering it across his chest, this time. "I'll put it this way-- precious little can hurt you, but Doom's bound to know you're a fine target if he wants to get to Richards. If you'd like to be out in front -- you'll be taking orders from people who I trust to know what they're doing, and you'll have backup, but it'll be harder to get you out if that bit goes wrong-- I'll put you out front. You'll want to discuss that with Richards, if that's what you'd prefer. The other alternative is going with one of the teams--"

Here, Wisdom glances at Domino. "If two smaller teams works better for you, which I think it might work better all around, you with one and me with the other-- you pick who you want and I'll take the rest--"

Attention's back on Sue, and his manner's so gentle, it's almost like he's a different person. "--going with one of the teams actually infiltrating the castle. When you're invisible, is it to magic as well, or only the electromagnetic spectrum? I imagine the forcefield takes care of scent and sound."

Meanwhile, Dazzler is /watching/ this emotional-practical-tactical social tennis thing with varying shades of interest. "Ok, watching Pete be /nice/ is entirely too weird for me minus actually being in a parallel dimension or something, and I tend to notice when THAT'S happened." She gives Sue a wave, "Nice to see you," and then salutes Pete and Domino. "Let me know which team I'm on or whatnot. I have the thinger and I /plomise/ I won't futz with it." Exeunt!

"PROMISE ME WITH AN R, DAZZLER!" Pete calls past Sue, irritated.

Invisible Girl doesn't seem to take any offense at Domino's slightly snarky words, considering they're tame compared to some of the less than kind things Ben has saidin the past about their celebrity status. She nods when Domino acknowledges that Logan's request may be related to their mission (WHEW), then tilts her head slightly at Pete's explanation. When he asks about her powers in relation to magic, she immediately looks uncertain. "Magic? I honestly don't know. I haven't ever had to try." Dazzler takes her leave and Sue smiles and waves to her, though her open bafflement at the emotional-practial-tactical comment is clear on her face. "Um, nice to see you as well," she adds with a wince at Pete's irritated retort.

"I /PRRROOOMISE/" Dazzler hollers back at volume, before adding lower on her way starting to /sprint/, "I won't futz with the thingamawhatsis!" One can almost hear the evil laughter afterwards.

"Goddamn, there's something about hangin' around Pete that makes me wanna get into a fight," Domino mutters more to herself than anyone else while gently rubbing her forehead. Not that it's the most subtle of tones in the world. Pulling herself back together, she looks back to the man and nods in confirmation. "Two groups won't be any easier to keep hidden compared to one larger group, but it should be easier to manage. We'll see what we've got. Worst case scenario, I'll just pass the baton your way and go outside to help blow shit up with the other team. I'm good enough at it." She's also good enough to realize when it's a good time to leave. "Thanks for the comms. I need some fresh air."

"You can always train me in better hand-to-hand," Pete suggests to Dom, cheerfully. "Because it's probably -my- face you'll be wanting to cave in. We'll figure it out. Call me tomorrow and we'll hammer out the last. Goodnight, you." Not you anything, just you. Then he claps a hand on Sue's shoulder. "Is he too busy to talk around what he's in the middle of? I'd rather talk to you both at the same time, if I can."

Invisible Girl waves after Domino as she leaves as well, then looks at Pete when he claps a hand on her personal force field an inch or two out from her shoulder. "If you want, I can call Reed and ask. Maybe we can go over there to talk to him."

Getting to Pete's apartment? Simple. Getting inside of it? No problem! Trying to -leave?- Dom's rarely standing still. She moves briskly, with purpose. The merc's making a beeline for the way out when she -smacks- into some unseen force, very nearly falling onto her rump a second later. "The fuck..?! Pete, what's -in- that coffee! Jesus." She rights herself, makes sure her nose isn't broken, carefully steps -around- Sue with plenty of room to spare, and inches her way to the door.

These things, like a hand that hits solidity a visible distance from the target, come with the territory. Pete's only got the look of someone who's kicking himself for having forgotten, rather than surprise. And then he CACKLES like a MADMAN at Domino. Hoooots until he's breathless, and has to double over, hands on his knees, before he can gasp out at Sue, "I've no doubt you'd like to get out of here as soon as possible, either way. Let's head out, and if he says it's all right, I'll come with. Otherwise, I've got a few more errands I've got to run tonight anyway; your job for now'll be asking Reed whether or not he thinks you'll do all right versus Doom's brand of ceremonial magic. If not, I'll absolutely have another job for you." He holds the door open for Sue with a half-bow and a 'ladies first' gesture, and will jam it shut behind them before also locking it. More to keep what's in there out of the comparatively clean hallway than to prevent breakins, no doubt.

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