A Shadow on your Tail

To invite someone to Falcone's abode was unheard of, and strategically unintelligent. This, rather, was a meeting place, and only that. A high-end, old-fashioned building, that was often commandeered by the family for its use. Thus the apparent emptiness. Yet, upon closer look, one would note men standing about, stern-faced and stoic. They were like statues, unmoving features that stood against walls, sunglasses mushed into their faces, heads unmoving as the blonde-haired young lady ventured towards the elevator. When the women reached the door and pushed the button, a man stood casually against the far wall. He wasn't dressed like the flunkies in the suits, wasn't hiding his eyes behind sunglasses.

"Miss Lenna?" he greeted, wearing a serpentine grin. He seemed outwardly normal-- his attire, refined and crisp, but it was apparent that he was still, just an errand runner. His mischievous grin faltered as she stepped into the elevator. He was a mutant, of the psychic persuasion. And, as the woman's aura impressed upon him, his powers were dampened, "El Asesor is expecting you."

El Asesor was not, as the designation implied, Falcone. He was the third in the tier of power, an adviser, counselor, and consultant for Falcone and his second-in-command. He attended the meetings that neither could be bothered with. He was still related to the family by-blood, the son of the former Falcone's brother, yet as he was not a direct descendant of the former Falcone, he was slightly more expendable. Thus functioned the pyramid of power.

The doors swung shut, the guard hit the button for the third floor, and the elevator quietly ascended. He made no attempt to carry conversation, only surveyed Lenna quietly. The elevator slid to a halt, and the doors glided open.

Tall, grand windows set the room aglow with light from outside, which rippled over tables covered with white tablecloths, all undercoated spare a single vase with pink roses upon each..

"El Asesor is to your far right, by the windows," the man informed her, "Just look for the guards. They will direct you to your table."

The young woman was ushered out politely, and then the elevator door slid shut, leaving her to her own devices. Guards stood like fixtures near windows, along the walls, and at various points in the room, but they were concentrated well El Asesor was said to be seated. At the far end of the room, the faint clink of silverware against china could be heard as an unseen individual dined.

A single table setting was set back, away from the corner, and the guard gestured to it.

"You'd have to pardon my poor manners, Miss Lenna," El Asesor spoke coolly, "But your... condition... poses an inconvenience. I set a place for you at a reasonable distance from me, so I hope your voice is strong this afternoon."

As the young woman would approach, she'd come to see a man sitting in the corner, soup spoon in-hand, eating quietly. To his right and to his left, a no-neck pair of bodyguards, looking sternly on. El Asesor, who sat in repose between them, donned a white tuxedo, complete with a fedora with a black band, a black shirt, and a purple tie. Yet, rather than seeming outwardly human, El Asesor seemed crafted of stone. He was a broad-shouldered, muscular man, composed of dark grey stone through which fissures ran. And, shining through these fissures, a wash of white-blue light. His eyes also glowed with the light, smoldering beneath the brim of his cap.

"Good day to you," he greeted warmly, extending a hand to gesture to the table that was four yards off, "Please, sit. Would you like something to drink or eat? You look winded."

The blond nodded at the man who had greeted her. She was used to guards. She was also used to middlemen, and stand-ins. Big names didn't always have the time or inclination to talk to little names, and having someone to do the dirty work usually helped out. While the Order wasn't a small name, it hadn't been delving into waters this deep for very long.

Falcone's family was a big shark in a big pool. Swimming with the big fish took preparations and time. So far, she'd worked on spreading Order power out and establishing territories, solidifying ones the Order already owned. The M trade helped with this, but it was a work in progress. It only made sense Falcone would want one of his men to talk with her before he started conversing in-person.

"Thank you," she said insubstantially. As said, she was used to guards. He didn't attempt to make any conversation further than that. Neither did she. It was simply a courtesy. She was a guest. She kept up the good behavior and let him watch her and do his job.

As the doors opened, the guard directed her. She didn't nod, but instead let actions speak and started moving towards the directed location. Another guard directed her, as others watched. She moved along.

El Asesor addressed her, from the table, and she replied just as coolly. "I don't mind. Thank you for your hospitality." With that said, she found a seat. She was not being subservient like a dog, sitting when told. Again, she was a guest, and a modicum of politeness was expected. She understood that not everyone liked what she could do. More people had become aware of Adapteds, as of late. Not all of that was her doing. Some men just liked to talk.

She liked the suit. The fedora was a nice touch. He reminded her of a gangster movie. Maybe Scarface. He even had some little friends on either side, just as deadly as if he'd been carrying his own gun.

The Order leader took note of the man's mutation, and the seating arrangement. Her range, it seemed, was another thing people had talked about. She didn't make a point of sharing that detail with others, yet somehow, it always got around. Maybe he'd only heard hearsay and 'roundabouts this many', when it came to feet? She mentally pictured someone holding up his arms a couple feet apart, guessing and estimating. Maybe the person even had extending rubber limbs to get it more exactly? Maybe her imagination was better than the actual guesstimation had been.

A good idea, it seemed to be, not to waltz up and hug Rocky. El Asesor did not deserve to crumble, and there was a good change that might happen if she got too close. Falcone was a pro-mutant family with mutant pros. It'd look bad breaking one.

He'd offered her food and drink, but Lenna declined. "No thank you," said she. "I'm fine." Call it paranoia, call it politeness. Call it not wanting to have to drink a bottle of water while she was talking to the big rocky man in charge. Maybe she just didn't feel like taking advantage of him and asking for too much. Sometimes, people got offended when that happened. Sometimes, people tested others to see how they reacted. Ultimately, she didn't have time for guessing games. Plus, she wasn't thirsty, which settled all that.

"Shall we get down to business?" Lenna smiled frankly. Lots to talk about. And he was still eating his meal.

Shade silently grumbled to himself as he tried to figure out how exactly he was going to be able to get an ear on that room without being seen. With all those lights, it did not leave the shadow mutant with many options, if any. Except, 'jumping' under the table or something crazy like that. And that was probably something he should avoid if he did not want to get caught. He really did not want to get caught. He needed this information. Badly. For plans. Very special plans.

For a full minute, Shade sat trying to decide what to do. He was already way over his head in problems to begin to sort through them. The safest thing thing to do was to scrap the mission and catch up with Lenna later when she was back in the Sanctuary and when it was dark. Those two options favored the shadow mutant greatly, and it would be grateful for either of those two right about now. But he did not. Instead, he was stuck in an elevator shaft in broad daylight wiht probably a dozen powerful mutants sitting around just waiting to catch a spy. Not to mention, Shade starting to get this itching in the back of his brain. The invisible mutant had no idea what it might be, but it was irritating him.

With not many options, the Orderling was about to scrap the mission when he suddenly her a faint voice reaching his ears. Was that Lenna? How could he hear her? Shade could not make out the soft words that were spoken, but he could definietly hear something. Following the chirpy, brisk business tone of Lenna, a deep, elegant answered her, but Shade still could not make out what was being said. Listening intensely, Shade was about to pinpoint the voices to their source. There was a vent, leading from the elevator shaft. That had to be it.

Materialzing a knife, Shade pried at the dusty covering until he was able to snap it free. Careful to not make too noise, the shadow mutant squeezed into the shaft. It was cramped and tight. Shade's shoulders barely managed to slip inside, but it worked. Slowly, the shadow mutant made his way through the narrow vent until he came to an opening. He could barely see through the silted covering. However, he was able to piece the scene together with what was visible.

Shade could not see Lenna, but she assumed she was seated in front of the massive stone man he was currently viewing. They were in some kind of dining hall. The living statue was dressed in an exquistite suit that was tailored to him perfectly. Obviously, this man was well off. The thought filtered into Shade's brain about what an Adapted would be doing here, meeting a mutant mob boss by the looks of it. Was Lenna planning to control these people? Or were they really controlling the Order? Had Lenna got mixed up with the wrong people? Shade hoped so. It would make this operation definitely worth the risk he was taking in infiltrating this place.

All Shade could do now was sit and listen.

(I am going to hop in a little into your converstaion since it would obviously take Shade a while to crawl through the vent.)

As per the norm, El Asesor maintained a degree of polite attention on the woman. Even though he was eating while she spoke, his eyes never ventured anywhere beyond the path between his food and the young woman’s face. Lenna began with what she wanted out of this meeting—they wanted to work together. Luminous eyes dipped contemplatively towards the tea to his right, which the stone man lifted and took a sip of. Interesting.

Having stated her desires, the young woman launched into an explanation about a network of criminal dealings, largely surrounding the M-trade and protection money. This was all well and good, if they were talking to an up-and-coming gang. The thing was, however, that Falcone’s legacy was a long-standing one. It was no surprise that Lenna was offering such information as “new” information. Over the years, the family had transitioned from gangster poster-children, to something far more underground. Underground, but no less powerful than before. It was akin to the transition from being an advocate—in the limelight, in the focus of the NYPD—to being a puppeteer… someone who worked behind the scenes but still pulled all the strings.

El Asesor smiled faintly, exhaling a chuckle that stopped before it could really take form.

“Speak to me more on the topic of expansion, if you please,” the stone man purred, taking another sip of his tea, “And the potential benefits that Falcone and his men can reap from this exchange. By what little you’ve told me, it sounds as though the funding can contribute to a potentially… very public enterprise. This is not the style of the familys’ endeavors.”

He set the teacup down, folding his hands atop the table as he surveyed the young woman shrewdly. He leaned forward, balancing his weight upon his elbows, his smile faded into a lopsided smirk.

“Also—speak to me on the state of your faction’s infrastructure, if it pleases you,” El Asesor continued. Lenna was not one to beat around the bush, thus El Asesor would not do so, either. The luminous pools of his eyes seemed to glimmer at this request, as if to silently laugh at a private joke. If this request was too vague for the young woman, El Asesor made certain to specify as to why he was making the request.

“There have been… murmurs… on the street, of the potential for change,” the man explained, “Of what sort, I have not heard. Change, however, often leads to instability. Instability is not a promising feature when one seeks an investment. Don’t you agree, madame?”

This entire exchange was polite and disconnected, just as it had been the whole time.

((ooc: I was thinking that he might go over to meet with the “higher ups”, whoever that might be at this time… maybe see the Sanc for himself, or the Order to see if it’s an investment that Falcone would want to make, or if it’s too unstable to risk it… if that works for you?))

Yack, yack, yack, yack. The two supposed leaders chatted nonsense between themselves. They plotted about things like "expansion" and "change" with little more than vague ideas about what they were actually going to do. To Shade, they sounded more like political candidates at a debate than diabolical criminal master minds. In one way, the two leaders seemed to not want the other to know what they might be planning as it could interfere with the other's ideas. However, in another way, they did not seem to be talking about anything, just talking in circles, trying to sound like they knew what they were doing.

In any case, the only valuable piece of information that Shade had collected from the exchange was that Lenna was meeting with this "family" of mutants behind the other leaaders' backs. The Adapted appeared to want to bring the leaders into this knowledge, but if she was telling the truth was yet to be determined. It was at least one bit of information that the shadow mutant could bring to Syn.

By this time, Shade's left leg was falling asleep as the pressure between the surrounding AC vent and the rest of his body had cut off a vital blood vessel. The tingling was only in its beginning stages, and Shade tries to shift slightly, without making too much noise to relieve the pressure. His current state reminded him that it would be hard trying to back himself out of his tight space. Maybe it would be better to 'jump' his way out whenever he got the chance.

However, he still had work to do so the shadow mutant settled in again, trying to decipher the jargon that the two powerful individuals passed between each other as he tried to ignore the growing numbness in his leg.

He made several good points, all of which she was already aware. Try as she might, there was no way she'd ever be able to rid the Order of its sordid past, or shed the attention it had gained, and it would not be easy to get its members to relax every single one of their dangerous attention-seeking behaviors. It would be like getting a dog to stop salivating when it sees a nice hunk of meat. Meat, in this case, being humans (a fact that only made her slightly uncomfortable). Of all these things, she was aware, but she also had plans, and she wasn't one to let silly things like 'reality' change them. People with visions rarely did.

She didn't react in any way to his spiel, other than to sit calmly and listen. Nothing in her demeanor betrayed a thought.

As he finished, she gave him a single nod. "Sure." Everything about that seemed wise. Seemed fair. Seemed peachy. Even if it wasn't a giant leap in the direction she'd wanted, baby steps would do. They'd been accomplished. Much harder would be showing that progress this man was likely looking to see. "Thank you for your time," She concluded, rising politely, and looking towards an exit. She was certain a body guard or two would kindly escort her out.