Well. It was not to say that he had been dreading this particular meeting, exactly. It was more to say... he had not rushed to arrange it. Kitra, like many of the Kabal's members, had begun straying further and further from the Labs in Antonescu's absence. Slate had simply allowed that straying to continue, until he had other matters in hand.

He was nearly done with his re-contracting of the former Kabal employees. He had met with Slade, Circe, Roland, and Hades already; Nox and Tris had somewhat fallen off of the planet's face, but messages were en route to them; Sapphire was ignoring summons to meet, and so her contract had simply been terminated. New contracts were in the works. It made very little sense for this meeting to be put off any longer.

That is why the tousle-haired teenager was sitting once more in his chair in the Board Room, one seat off from the symbolic head of the table. In front of him was the paper file for Kitra Maverick. He really had to do something about these paper files: they seemed a security risk, and he was rather good at remembering their contents without the physical prompt. Perhaps a burning would be appropriate. Likewise, there was no particular need for a data copy; he would have to have those computer-bound files purged. Unnecessary things were, after all, unnecessary. This meeting, unfortunately, did not fall under that heading.

Kitra Maverick. Long-time Kabal employee. Loyalist to Hunter Antonescu. A loose end in need of tying. Also, a friend of Calley Swartz.

It was Slate Swartz's great misfortune to share a face with his 'brother'. He did not rub at his temples, because he was trying to avoid fostering unnecessary habits. Yet the feeling remained. He did not dread this meeting; he simply acknowledged that it was going to be harder to keep on track than the others. In fact, he predicted that it would be nearly impossible to keep this to business. And he rather suspected that Ms. Maverick would get his name wrong.

Kitra was currently making her way to the War Room, well scratch that it was now the Board Room. Earlier that day she had gotten a summons, something that hadn't occured in quite awhile. She was dressed in a light blue knee length skirt and a cream colored quarter length shirt. At her side, like always, was her bag full of her drawing materials. Kitra was nearly positive that Hunter wasn't the one that made the summons, but then again she could be wrong. Hunter hadn't been at the labs in months, and Kitra hadn't seen any change in the staff that would give the impression he was back when she had left in the morning from the labs. She sighed slightly as she neared her destination and moved her long braid to the center of her back, instead of over her shoulder.

Kitra had finally arrived at the Board Room, she pushed open the door, only to stop dead in her tracks as she beheld Calley at the head of the table. 'Wait, that can't be Calley, I don't think he could sit as still as that, nor look that compossed.' She smiled as she walked into the room, "Well, I'm pretty sure you aren't Calley from your demanor. So, you must be his brother, Slate." Kitra took a seat and prayed that she had gotten his name right, really really was hoping she had gotten his name right. Anyway, putting that aside, now to find out why it was him sitting there and not Hunter. She folded her hands in front of her on the table and looked at Slate, "Why have you called me here today?" It was a simple enough question, perhaps the answer would not be as simple though. Well she would find out soon enough, she hoped.

Something between Slate's shoulders relaxed as Kitra smiled. Smiled, and thawed from her initial freeze upon entering the room; smiled, and called him by his name. She had only heard it once. It had been too much to hope that she would recall it; his gratitude at her memory was unimaginable. He gave a small nod as she settled into the chair across from him, and returned a shade of the smile.

"Indeed, I am Slate Swartz. Thank you for being a friend to my brother, Miss Maverick; it has been good for him. It is good to finally meet you face to face."

>> "Why have you called me here today?"

A fair question. Slate did not favor subtle approaches to answering fair questions. Therefore, he came directly to the point. "I have replaced Antonescu as the leader of the Kabal and the owner of Mondragon Labs and its holdings. I have called you here to enquire as to whether you would like to renew your contract under me."

Baby blue eyes regarded the young woman across from him. Older than him, however. That fact felt strange to him. Particularly since he knew a great deal more than she did, on one topic, at least. This subject, he made an effort to broach somewhat more gently. "Do you know what kind of man Hunter Antonescu is?"

"Indeed, I am Slate Swartz. Thank you for being a friend to my brother, Miss Maverick; it has been good for him. It is good to finally meet you face to face."

Kitra nodded slightly with a small smile on her lips, which shortly disappeared due to her surprise at what Slate said next. She sat back slightly in her chair, 'so Slate took over the Kabal and everything else that went with it. Hmm, he seems to be a levelheaded young man. And since he managed to snag Mondragon labs and everything else away from Hunter, he's got to be somewhat good.' Her inwards conversation merely took a few seconds, "I would like to renew my contract with you. However, will anything change? What missions would I be sent on? How do you operate and such?" As Kitra paused to think of anything else, Slate asked her one more question.

"Do you know what kind of man Hunter Antonescu is?"

She frowned thoughtfully, "From what I know and have been given the impression of Hunter Antonescu is that he is a man that will do anything to get what he wants. He does this according to the type of people he is dealing with. However, I did not realize this right away, as he was kind to me and taught me a great deal. I do not know how he treated his employees individually, but overall he seemed to be fair and had a firm grip over them." She paused again, "I've said what I've said due to the impression I get from the personality, or no personality that he shows."

Kitra looked at Slate, "Is there anything else you might like to know? Perhaps how my powers work, or my backround and such. Please feel free to ask what you will. I shall answer to the best of my abilities." At that she went silent, curious as to what Slate would say and how he would respond to her answer of what he had asked.

Well then. If he had known that things would go so smoothly, he would not have come so prepared; nor would he have raised the issue of Antonescu's true colors. It seemed she had begun to suspect them for herself. Under the file in front of him was a simple manila folder. It felt conspicuous to him, and weighty, though it was neither. Was there still a purpose to bringing it out? He needed time to think about that. In the meantime, he would answer her questions.

"Your missions will vary; I will try to suit them to your interests, however. By our manner of operations, may I assume you are enquiring as to my aim?" His baby blue eyes were steady across the table, and honest. "To be frank, I find the Order's revelry in bloodshed tasteless, and the X-Men's potential for good wasted. I aim to do what they have not: I am going to change this world into a better place to live, for both humans and our own kind." He gave a small, modest shrug. "I have already begun. Your missions will be along those veins. Naturally, your pay will also remain the same. I do not expect any of my employees to be humanitarian volunteers. The world is run by baser means than morals; I will change it using such."

"Do you have any other questions of me?"

He shifted his weight, straightening the folder and the file in front of him into an even more perfectly perpendicular position to the table's edge. For now, he left the folder where it was.

"And indeed, a full description of your powers would be appreciated. Likewise, could you describe for me your own morals--what do you think of the world, as it is? What would you change?"

Kitra grinned, she liked Slate's way of thinking. He wanted to change the world in his own way, she wouldn't be getting a paycut and so far he seemed pleasant. She blinked as he shifted slightly and moved what looked to be plain folder to an even more perfectly alligned to his edge of the table. Kitra wondered if that folder was possibly about her or perhaps something else, well she wasn't going to ask, for the moment at least.

"And indeed, a full description of your powers would be appreciated. Likewise, could you describe for me your own morals--what do you think of the world, as it is? What would you change?"

Kitra nodded, "Describing my powers I think is the easiest of those questions." She rummaged through her knapsack, pulled out one of her many sketchpads and sent it sliding across the table towards Slate. "As you can see, I love to draw and my mutation has steemed from that. To put it simply, I am an illustrator and I can also manupilate paper." Kitra sighed and pulled up her sleeves just a bit more so the daggers tattooed on both of her arms showed fully. "A small demonstration, I tattooed this on myself about a month or so ago." The daggers seemed to rise up from her skin, taking 3d shape and size, Kitra then let them fall into her waiting hands, catching them both by the hilt. She then got up flipped them in the air and caught them by their blades (with no injury of course) and walked over to Slate handing them to him to inspect them. "Quite real I can assure you, as to my paper manupilation, I'm still learning but I can use paper to shield myself and make various creations." Kitra sat back down and looked at Slate, "You may choose a drawing in my sketchpad and I will bring it into being for you."

"As to my morals, I prefer to stay out of trouble, sadly trouble finds me a lot of the time. I do not like taking lives but I will if I absolutely have too." She paused and sighed, "I believe I'm a decent person and I can take care of myself." Kitra snorted, "This world is in serious need of changing, I do wish for us and the humans to live peacefully with one another. However, right now that is not the case so all mutants have to stay on their toes and are under pressure to be perfect citizins." She shook her head, waiting to see how Slate would react to everything she had said and shown.

He watched Kitra's display of power. While he had known about it previously, it was still an impressive display: the ability to create anything from nothing, limited only by imagination and artistic skill. It was an ability rather suited to his own goals, he noted, turning the knives over in his hands, getting a feel for their very solid hilts. Impressive, indeed. He turned them hilt first, and offered them back to the illustrator.

"Are they as permanent as the real thing, once you have manifested them," he inquired curiously, "or is there some manner of time limit or range from you that must be taken into account?" Important questions, if simple. Her answers would define his plans for her. Hers held the potential to be the most versatile power on the current Kabal. "Additionally, what is the size limit that you have found? Can you, for instance, create an elephant? A house? A jet?"

"Regarding complex things--is only what you draw brought to existence? For example, if you could indeed make a jet, would it work--would the interval parts also come into existence, even if you did not have true knowledge about how a jet works?"

"For living things--do they look the same as the true thing, or are differences evident? If you made a copy of one of my guards, would I not be able to tell the difference upon looking?"

He had more questions than that--her power opened up more questions than he could reasonably ask--but he left it at that. For now. "If the answer is negative to any of those, please do not hesitate to tell me. I am simply getting a gauge for your limits, as well as your strengths." A small smile tweaked his lips. "Additionally, I do not think that picking a sketch will be necessary--the tattoo demonstration was quite sufficient."

>> "As to my morals, I prefer to stay out of trouble, sadly trouble finds me a lot of the time. I do not like taking lives but I will if I absolutely have too. I believe I'm a decent person and I can take care of myself."

He nodded at that; it was, simply put, perfect. He would keep her out of straight assassination missions, particularly the cold-blooded variety, but her morals thus far sounded in good alignment with his own. There was great potential, here. He could see why Antonescu paid such close attention to this young woman.

>> "This world is in serious need of changing, I do wish for us and the humans to live peacefully with one another. However, right now that is not the case so all mutants have to stay on their toes and are under pressure to be perfect citizens."

A further elaboration, and another nod. "I see the same things, when I look around." Blue eyes were unwavering from her own gaze. "That is precisely the sort of thing we will change. I feel I must inform you," he said with the complete simplicity of sincerity, "that we will begin with the rest of the world, before America. America itself is in a comparatively good state. We have discrimination, but we also have those that stand up to it. My aims are broader than simply stopping discrimination; there are many things worse in this world than anti-mutant rallies, and the situation here is fairly stable. I would like to start where the need is greatest, and return to here as my conclusion."

Simplicity and sincerity, indeed, considering he had just stated his intent to rule the world.

When Slate offered her the daggers back, she smiled as they disappated from his hands and reappeared on her forearms. Kitra sat back in her chair, contempleting Slate's many questions. "Well, when I bring my drawings into being, they are not alive in any sense. Any sketches of people I bring into being look very much alive, yet they do not need to breath or to eat, drink and sleep. Unfortunately nothing I bring into being is permenant. As for a time limit, I do not yet know of one, I can work on that if it would please you. I can bring multiple drawings into being at once. I once brought 3 sketches of myself into being for about 4 or 5 hours while I tattooed the wings I have on my back and the daggers as well."

Kitra paused, thinking about his next questions. "I have not attempted to bring something that large into being, however I would be quite willing to give it a try if we were to step out to the grounds. I would have to actually draw the intricate details if I were to have someone else pilot a jet. If I were to draw the jet and seats inside it then I'm pretty sure I could mental move the jet myself. My range I have not fully tested either , however if I could see out of the thing I brought into being, then I have a better chance at ranging it further then something I could not see from."

Kitra nodded as Slate agreed with her on the ways of the world, it used all of her willpower to not let her jaw drop as she got the implication that he wanted to take over the world. 'Hmm, hmm, most intriuging, indeed he is.' A split second later a devilish grin appeared on her face, "I think we will get along quite well Slate Swartz, quite well indeed."

Three 'living' sketches, maintained over several consecutive hours, simultaneously. Slate made no effort to stop his eyebrows from rising. That was, indeed, quite useful.

>> "I think we will get along quite well Slate Swartz, quite well indeed."

He returned her devilish grin with a smirk of his own. "I get that impression as well, Miss Maverick. Shall we step outside now, and attempt to gauge your limits?"

- - -

The Lab grounds were a most convenient place. Outside of the main complex, between the warehouses and barracks, there existed quite a large vacant space, with a history of use in training and things a bit more deadly. There was even a pasture off to one side, complete with white stallion. The war horse flicked its ears at them hopefully, then dismissed them with the merest of glances. They were not the man it was waiting for. It returned to its patient grazing; it would wait for its rider, no matter how long it took for him to return.

"Let us test the limits of your range first," he decided to begin with. Of all the tests he could imagine, it seemed like it would be the least exhausting to her powers. This was a warm-up, as it were. "Perhaps you should create a 'living' sketch, and have it walk away from you, or something of the sort? We can see when you lose contact with it. Additionally, how does impaired line of sight affect your ability to control your sketches?"

((ooc: Feel free to fail miserably at any of these tests, have limited ranges, etc--I'd actually encourage that. Not trying to push your powers to crazy new extents, here; just checkin' the limits we'll be workin' with for missions. Whatever makes sense for your character, we'll work with that. )

Kitra stretched slightly once they were outside, it was a beautiful day. She pulled out one of her sketchpads and a pencil and procedded to draw an elephant and a workable looking jet. She sighed as she concentrated on the elephant and brought it into being. Kitra opened her eyes a bit wider, "Well it looks like an elephant, however there seems to be something out of place." She walked up to the being she had created and pushed it slightly, only to jump back in surprise as it toppled over and crumpled and then disappeared. Kitra scratched her head looking rather abashed. "It seems I cannot keep up with the density needed for an elephant yet." She frowned, "I get the feeling that the jet may produce the same results. Looks like I have a ways to go yet." Kitra grinned, "But thats what makes life interesting."

She now concentrated on the jet and brought it into being slowly, it looked solid at least. She walked over to it and opened the jet's door. "Hmm, it seems small for a normal jet and however it seems that this won't disenagrate but I would probably be the only one to fly it." Kitra paused before fiddling with the few controls in the jet. She sighed, "Looks like the only way to fly this is for me to mentally control it." Kitra looked over at Slate, "How about I give that a try after seeing what my range is." She hopped out of the jet and it disappeared.

Kitra then brought into being a small bird. She sent it flying, and watched through its eyes as she had it zip and zag through the trees. After about a minute or so she felt her connection with it weakening and had it stop. One of the guards outside went out to it and made quick calculations and came back to Slate and herself. "Miss, it looks to be about 51 yards." Kitra nodded and gave the gaurd a smile as he turned and moved away from her and Slate. "Well, that appears to be my range with a creation that has eyes. Now lets give it a shot with something that doesnt."

Kitra then brought into being a bouncy ball, ya know the type that kids used to love and would amuse them for hours on end. She sent it out and barely 35 seconds later she had it stop. The same guard went out and measured once again and came back reporting that it was about 26 yards this time. Kitra nodded again and turned to Slate, "Well, that answers a few of your questions. What else would you have me experment with? "

The girl could apparently see through the eyes of her creations. Had she mentioned that before? That seemed like a very vital fact.

Slate watched her various demonstrations. Large scale creations were largely out; that was entirely fine. If Slate had really wanted an elephant, he would simply call his brother; if he really needed a jet, he would use one of the corporate ones that Mondragon Labs already owned. Frankly, if constructions such as jets would be impermanent in any case, he would rather not get in the habit of relying on them. A multi-hour trip across the Atlantic, several thousand feet up, was no place for an illusionist to grow tired.

And she could see through the eyes of her creations. At a distance of approximately fifty yards. That was rather useful to know.

"I think that will quite suffice for now," Slate stated simply. "What you have shown me already gives me a fair base to work with, for my plans. Thank you, Miss Maverick. Do you have any further questions for me, or may I safely consider you re-contracted?"

There was still a slight subject lingering in the air; the manila folder that had been under Kitra Maverick's personnel file had been brought outside with them, tucked innocuously under his arm. "There is one other thing, Miss Maverick. I am not certain how much it interests you." He switched the folder to his hands; an understated motion. "I had originally put this together to convince you that your loyalty to Antonescu was not to a man you truly knew; I did not anticipate that you already suspected as much, yourself. As such, there is no true reason for you to read it. None the less," Slate offered the folder over to her; "if you wish to, you may. You may also put it in a trash can, at your leisure."

The envelope contained, quite simply, a concise listing of facts: that Antonescu had ordered the death of her former bodyguard; that the man had ordered a torture machine built and tested upon Kabal employees who did not particularly agree with their own contracts--though no names were mentioned, here; and, of course, the true circumstances surrounding the death and rebirth of the young man known as Zelek. The envelope was being offered; it was her choice whether to read it.

Kitra took the envolope from Slate then shook his hand with her right/empty hand. "I may or may not look at this," she stated, putting the folder into her bag at her side before straightning up. "Quite happy to be recontracted, thank you Slate. However I would truely prefer you call me Kitra unless needed in the presence of others." Kitra smiled, "Oh, before we part, who else of the kabal members haven't you met with? If you don't mind me asking that is, or partaking of that information as well." This time she grinned, "There are a few that won't be easily persuaded and I know Tris thought kindly of Hunter Anotonescu as well."

>> "Oh, before we part, who else of the kabal members haven't you met with? If you don't mind me asking that is, or partaking of that information as well."

Slate's baby blue eyes turned slightly apologetic. "I fear," he began simply, "that at this stage in my plans, matters will be less complicated if I keep that information on a need-to-know basis. There will come a time when such caution becomes unnecessary," 'impossible' might be the better term, actually; "but with any luck, that will not be for a great while."

He simply nodded at her mention of Miss Evans. If he was a bit wiser, he would have taken that advice to heart. It would have, perhaps, saved him a limb or two. As it was: even Kabal leaders make mistakes.

With any luck, people would have trouble remembering that once his plans were in motion.

Kitra grinned, "Quite alright, I do hope everything goes well." She walked a few paces before pausing and turning to look at Slate, "I also look forward to my first mission." Kitra nodded then spoke again quietly and sincerely, "If you need anything, any advice or just someone to chat with, give me a call." She smiled, turned and started back towards the labs.