((ooc: Anyone mind if I set this on May third? It would be rather convenient in the Kabal’s timeline.))

This meeting had been scheduled five months ago. In Slate’s mind, at least. Five months: it was the time he needed to ready things. January and February: the time he had needed to enact his usurpation, and consolidate Antonescu’s former assets under his own wing. March: in a word, a time for ‘preparations’. April: when those preparations reaped what they had sown. The first Pax School was now open down in Colombia. Certain other things were also in place down there, but those had been left out of the press releases. March: a busy month, even though it had only just begun. On the first, news of Doctor Ingram’s medical breakthrough had been released; the phone lines had been plugged with phone calls for interview and comment from around the globe. Mondragon Labs—no, Mondragon Labs Medical—was now on the international map. He did not know if that was a good move, yet. But it had been necessary. The image of the Labs was in need of a change.

The Labs’ employees had not been idle while their master was away. During April, they had done as he had ordered: now, Mondragon Labs was—perhaps for the first time since it had been founded—a place that could welcome outside visitors without sealing any of its inner doors. All of Antonescu’s covert weapons, all of his unsavory research was gone: destroyed, as well it should be. Even the grounds had been remodeled; sprawling concrete and bland warehouses had been replaced with gardens and orchards of young trees, and the outer chain link fence replaced with a tasteful low stone wall. Mondragon Labs Medical was an entirely legitimate operation, now. Its grounds matched that truth.

Slate stood now just outside of the main doors, baby blue eyes watching for his visitors’ arrival. He was dressed for business casual; a light pair of khaki dress pants, and a light blue shirt that complemented his eyes. His brown hair was looking somewhat less tousled than usual after a very thorough combing. His skin was rather tan from his time south of the border.

This meeting had been planned for five months, even if they did not know it. The Kabal’s new leader was quite prepared.

((ooc: It’s fair game to recognize Slate as Calley or Calley’s brother (they’re ‘identical twins’, after all, and you’ve both met Calley IC. Also fair game to know that Slate registered for classes at the Mansion in March, but hasn’t actually shown up for them for a month. The heart cloning technique would have hit media all over the world two days ago, too; major medical break through, and all. Knowing that Mondragon Labs was the home to the Resistance during the Registration Act == also common knowledge, among mutants.

I don’t think either of you learned about Antonescu’s darker motives IC, did you? He never really got far in actually going ahead with his plans... We’ll get on that subject though, most likely.

Bringing up any suspicions about Raina’s Birthday Brawl is also fair game. ))

Tricity slammed on the breaks, nearly running into the back of the car in front of her. She turned her head toward her partner in a sheepish smirk. "Sorry, Steel..." Her mind had been wandering since yesterday about the Mondragon Labs and its leader. Caleb Swartz. Was he really as he seemed to be? Tricity knew better...

The light turned green and she turned the corner, parking across the street from the Labs. Not what she was expecting. Trees and gardens in bloom; open and welcoming. Ugh. It was actually making her nauseous. 'What is the deal?' she thought, walking toward the building and noticing the man at the door.

Caleb not doubt. Strange to see a twin in such a different location and possibly on the 'other side'. She wished she could've spoken to Calley before having to meet with his identical brother. A little background knowlege could never hurt before entering the unknown. Why couldn't he just look all menacing and make this easier?

Tricity nodded to Caleb as they were only a few paces from him. "My name is Delilah Tipper and this is Steel," she introduced, gesturing to her teammate. "You must be Caleb Swartz."

Running and hiding was something many animals did in order to survive. It was a basic instinct that all creatures that had a beating heart had. When the prey wishes to survive and not fight back it runs and hides. Recounting where he was close to a year and a few days ago Sam was the prey where TAT was the predator hot on his trail. A run down cabin and those hot on his trail was the only thing keeping him from the camps that he was completely oblivious to.

Elsewhere in the states a year ago most of his friends were captured and subjected to inhuman treatment like animals. But a handful of the residents and mutants that he is a friend or acquaintance with happened to come to the place they were now going to. The Labs were one of the main meeting grounds for the Mutants to plot the camps destruction.

Fast-forward a year and as Tricity almost hit the car in front of them Sam couldn’t believe it was the meeting place for a resistance movement. Flowers and trees littered the courtyard from what he could see. It was green and lush and looked like the mansion grounds from his perspective. A low stonewall was the border between the grounds and the public sidewalk.

A public sidewalk that he was positive that was part of the kabals property seeing as the location of the place was on the outer city that from what he could tell wasn’t that populated. The new houses on the other side of the drive made him a tad suspicious as well. Most of new looked like they were built by the same company and some looked so new they seemed almost vacant.

“Sam is fine Tricity…” Sam said as Tricity addressed him as Steel. Keeping his suspicions to himself he didn’t say anything for it was clear that Tricity was on edge about something so until something happened that required his immediate response and attention Sam remained as unbiased as possible. Open minds were need in times such as these, after all if his mind remained shut; Sam couldn’t truly grasp the concept of what this place was about.

As he exited the car gently closing the car doors opposed to Tricity’s approach of slamming it shut Sam’s eyes shot around the grounds and took in the scenery once again. Nothing out of the ordinary but then again they did just perfect a cloning of a healthy human heart so this could all be for show, a mere front to fool not only himself and Tricity but the reporters and anyone else as well.

Looking at the front of the building Sam’s eyes caught the clone of Calley, it took him a second to realize it but it was defiantly not the Calley he knew, for the Calley he saw a few hours ago was no where near as tan as the Calley he was looking at now. The tan, the khakis and the overall way he carried himself. These were the only things that made Sam sure this was not the Calley he saw a day ago.

As they approached the Calley look-a-like Sam wasn’t sure if he should introduce himself seeing as he wasn’t technically wasn’t in the invite and didn’t want to insult the leader of a major “Medical” organization. So he waited until Tricity gestured to him and called him Steel yet again, “Sam is fine.” added Sam as he extended his right hand for a shake hoping to make the best impression possible hoping he wouldn’t make Tricity regret bringing him along.

>> "My name is Delilah Tipper and this is Steel. You must be Caleb Swartz."

Slate returned the woman’s nod, trying to smile welcomingly. It may have come off a bit more nervous than intended. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Tipper. My brother speaks highly of you. Please; just call me Slate.”

>> “Sam is fine too.”

A slight grin twitched at the corners of his mouth at that bit of interaction. He shook the offered hand warmly. “It is good to meet you as well, Sam. I hope Calley is not giving you too much trouble on missions. He can be quite...” Silly? Easily distracted? “Calley,” Slate finished, quite sure his fellow teenager would understand.

Belatedly, the blue eyed boy offered his hand to the Headmistress, as well. “Thank you for accepting my invitation. I’m sure you’re wondering what exactly I called you here for. To be forward with things: it was recommended to me by Nika that I talk to the X-Men about my goals; she thought we might be able to strike up a kind of partnership. When I took over leadership of Mondragon Labs, I also took over the group that was housed here. I am now the Leader of the Kabal. Please forgive Calley for not telling you; I had assured him that I would tell you myself.”

“May I ask what you know about the previous leader, and about the Kabal and the Labs in general? That will tell me where I should begin things, I suspect. Even if you decide that a partnership would not be workable, I would like to be honest about what I am doing here.” As honest as was wise.

The nineteen year old blinked baby blue eyes, his somewhat nervous smile still in place as he gestured to two benches over in a nearby garden. A more comfortable place to start things, and less imposing than bringing them into the Labs’ labyrinthine walls. They would get there, most likely. Honesty most likely warranted a tour, to show how little he had to hide.

As Slate motioned to the benches, Tricity sat down in the far one and began talking before the others were seated. "I honestly don't know too much about the last owner of this place," she said quietly with a quick follow up. "However, I'm curious as to why you suddenly picked up in his place and why the mutants who had followed such a leader before, would follow you so easily now."

Tricity wasn't here to be played. She wanted her questions answered and answered now. Her eyes tried to get passed his outter appearance and down to his real character. "I will say, you both do share a certain calm." And it felt like arrogance. How dare he sit there like that with all his calm when all she really wanted to do was slam the kid up against a wall and send a few currents down his oh-so-calm spine. Tricity knew it was members of the The Kabal who had started the fight between The X-Men and The Order. However, she wasn't going to bring that up just yet.

A small smile appeared on his face as Slate took his hand and introduced him self. After the shake ended Sam’s hand returned to his side as he continued to listen as Slate apologized for his brother, “To be honest I like Calley, his creativity saved not only mine but a several other lives on several different missions…” regardless if Calley was silly or not Sam didn’t think he needed to be apologized for, even if it was in a joking manner. Never the less Sam let out a small chuckle at his comment to appear that he took it as a joke.

The mentioning of Nika’s name was a red flare in Sam’s book, if Slate turned out to be hostile at all, Nika might need some protection from the way Tricity made the Kabal sound. Come to think of it Calley would be in trouble if not more than Nika for neglecting that Calley’s twin is now in charge of an organization that Tricity doesn’t trust what so ever.

Knowing nothing about the Kabal or the labs before hand, other than its medical breakthrough Sam decided to keep his mouth shut trying to stay unbiased as possible but the words ‘Took Over’ unnerved him slightly even if he didn’t show it much. His expression might have changed slightly but it could have been passed off as a surprised thought he had at another point before the meeting.

Take over usually implied a force of action and seeing as Sam had previous experiences with ‘Take over’ Sam could only speculate that it was a move for power and as his old teachers used to say and something he says from time to time with his students, ‘power corrupts’. Then again Sam could have been jumping to conclusions due to some kind of paranoia.

Walking to the two benches Sam carefully eyed his surroundings and then found his gaze back on Slate. The teenage had a smile on but couldn’t see anything arrogant in eyes that closely matched his own. Reluctantly Sam sat on a chair and lifted his leg and crossed it on the other. Leaning back onto the backs of the bench Sam took a calming breath expanding his stomach instead of his chest as his normal breaths had a tendency to do.

The paranoia soon left him as he lifted his arms and placed them on the back of the bench he was casually sitting on now. Looking up at the sun that peeked through the trees that were above and scattered around him in the garden. Strangely enough it reminded him somewhat of the mansion’s courtyard and his hammock in the trees. Watching and listening patiently Sam waited absorbed all the information he could from these two as best he could trying his best not to interrupt the conversation.

>> "I honestly don't know too much about the last owner of this place. However, I'm curious as to why you suddenly picked up in his place and why the mutants who had followed such a leader before, would follow you so easily now."

This was a warning. Hunter Antonescu had kept his business close to heart; most of the Kabal’s former members hadn’t even known what the man was, or what he was doing. That phrase—‘mutants who had followed such a leader’—that was most distinctly a warning. That meant that the Mansion’s Headmistress did indeed know something. Ah. On the one hand, it was a good thing—it would save him some explaining. On the other hand, it was inconvenient. If they truly had known nothing... then perhaps he could have started this meeting with a blank slate.

>> "I will say, you both do share a certain calm."

Slate was not very good at reading social clues. But the nineteen year old was beginning to suspect that, perhaps, Tricity did not like him. Or Anonescu, for that matter. She had met Antonescu, then.

He took a breath. It was all right: he had expected that he would have to deal with the former Kabal Leader’s baggage. He just... hoped that the X-Men would be able to see past that.

“It seems that you do know a bit,” Slate began, simply. He had taken his own seat across from them on the benches. “Let us suffice it to say that Hunter Antonescu could have become much more dangerous than the Order even dreams of being. Have you heard of the Kabal?” He presumed she had; her prior statement sat uneasily in his stomach. He looked between them, Tricity and Cold Steel both, before continuing.

“They are the strike team that Antonescu had put together. Mutants with... somewhat questionable morals, mostly, though others were forced into his service, and some were simply deceived. As I believe that you yourself may have been, Tricity. Am I correct in believing that he arranged a meeting with you, about two years ago, to donate to the Mansion?” This is what he had come across during his research into the man’s actions; he did not know the details of the meeting, however. If the young Headmistress wished to speak up—or if Cold Steel did, for that matter—he paused. Then, once more, he continued.

“Last summer, Antonescu’s attentions began to stray from America, back to the European continent. I saw this as a chance to do some good. You are probably aware that my brother and I were members of the Resistance; during that time, I became acquainted with many of the higher echelon employees at Mondragon Labs. They were concerned about the deterioration of Antonescu’s operations; the man had gathered a great deal of power in one place, gotten it ready for war, then left it idle. Things were beginning to fall apart in dangerous ways, particularly with regards to the Kabal’s members. With the help of the employees here, I secured both the Labs and the Kabal at the beginning of this year.” Quite literally: he had made his move in early January. Again he paused, for comment, question, or glare.

“Since then, I have been trying to reform things. I’ve taken great efforts to destroy Antonescu’s research. The more dubious things, in any case. Some amazingly good by-products of his experiments had been completely overlooked—they were not aligned with his goals, so he considered them largely useless. The heart cloning technique was one of these. I have set the staff here to developing those things further, so that they can benefit both humans and mutants alike. Likewise, I have taken the Kabal, and begun seeking ways in which to use them towards constructive ends. The thing about mercenaries,” he gave a slight shrug, with a somewhat sardonic smile to match, “is that they do not much care what they are doing, so long as they get paid for it.”

“In short, my aim is to take what I have done here to a broader scale: I wish to redirect dangerous elements for use in the healing of our world. I will not be focusing upon mutant rights as the X-Men do, but I have a feeling that situations involving that will indeed crop up. When they do, would the X-Men be interested in aiding me?” It was not a request: he knew he was not in any position to ask favors of the Mansion. It was, simply, an offer—a hand extended. The tousled-headed teenager waited to see whether it would be taken, or slapped aside. Or perhaps lightning bolted. He really did not think that Tricity liked him—sniping comments at the beginning of a meeting were not traditional, were they? Perhaps between two very close friends. He did not think that he and Tricity were very close friends. Cold Steel, at least, seemed willing to listen. Perhaps there was some hope that they would hear him.

This kid was intelligent. Clearly he knew what he was doing to be SO young and have SO many following him. Anyone who first met him would probably think the kid was great... But there was something about him... It just wasn't sitting right with her.

Tricity listened to him finish and waited a moment before answering. "First, if you think the people who worked for Antonescu are all mercenaries, just looking for a check, you're wrong. I'd be careful who you send on your healing of the world missions. Secondly, I have a feeling many of my X-Men won't be so happy to fight along members of The Kabal who have in the past tried to kill us and all." She was laying on the sarcasm. All this felt wrong and she wanted to be gone from it already.

"Frankly, I don't really know a thing about you and when your situations come up where you find you need the X-Men's help, I have a feeling we might be on the opposite side of the shit coming down on you. Or, we'll be cleaning up after whatever it is you did."

"Ah, by the way," Tricity pulled out the feather from her coat matter-of-factly and held it up for Caleb. "An example of not trusting your mercenaries..." She twirled the feather around in her index and thumb. "Two guests came to my grounds with The Order's front doors, making it seem as if my team stole them. In response, members of The Order decided to wage war against my residents on the front yard not too long after. Care to explain?"

(OOC: Sorry for the late response. I've had a tarded weak *sigh*)

The vibes he was getting from Slate weren’t too bad at least he couldn’t get the feeling that him and Tricity were in any immediate danger. Even if they were on Slate’s home turf even if they were surrounded, Sam felt as safe as he did at the mansion. The current feeling of nostalgia was proof of that him and Tricity had nothing to worry about, for the time being at least, however the more Slate spoke the more and more Sam was starting to mistrust him.

“Let us suffice it to say that Hunter Antonescu could have become much more dangerous than the Order even dreams of being. Have you heard of the Kabal?”

Shaking his head Sam admitted that he knew next to nothing about the Kabal, but he did know of the Order and it was clear that their view on “Mutant Masters” scared him. The whole idea where only the strong survived was a load of bull, for what happened when the weak were eliminated? Mutants were nothing more than humans with special gifts in Sam’s opinion one that he knew would be frowned upon if he mentioned it to other mutants so he usually kept his thought to himself less he would start an unnecessary argument.

Now if the Kabal were more dangerous than the Order all it would mean is trouble for his friends and that was something that went up as a red flag in Sam’s mind. As Slate continued to speak about the former leader of the Kabal all signs did in fact point out that he was dangerous. What’s more was that Slate took over from Antonescu, Slate wasn’t specific on how it was done but he openly said he secured control. All things being said Sam was reminded of a dictator’s fall and another’s rise to power.

Being careful not to give off any look of alarm Sam continued to look up to the sky his eyes fixed on the leaves and small branches of the trees above him. He was listening that much was clear but a look of deep thought read across his face as he continued to process everything that Slate was saying. His rise to power, his destruction of dangerous research, and his use of mercenaries, which was yet another red flag in Sam’s book. Mercenaries of any kind humans or mutants were always a double edge sword, when the pay would stop so would they, but apparently Slate knew of that and didn’t have a problem with them being on the payroll.

“In short, my aim is to take what I have done here to a broader scale: I wish to redirect dangerous elements for use in the healing of our world. I will not be focusing upon mutant rights as the X-Men do, but I have a feeling that situations involving that will indeed crop up. When they do, would the X-Men be interested in aiding me?”

When ever a dictator mentioned anything about healing it was never as good as they made it sound, the fact of the matter was it was dangerous for anyone to trust a dictator but as Slate continued to talk the word Dictator didn’t really seem to place right on him. If he didn’t focus on rights then what was this ‘healing’ that he spoke of? Sam was about to question Slate right then and there but closed his mouth as Tricity spoke up.

The next few moments Tricity took to not only point out her distrust of Slate but his own as well, not only that but she made it clear that she didn’t want to work with him due to past leader complications then she went into her theory of who the crow man and the transformer were. He didn’t know how she figured out whom they worked for but it started to make sense a third faction would benefit greatly if two stomped each other out.

Sam two was curious but he gave time for response before he asked questions of his own, “I to am a little bit curious about the situations you might need our aid in. I highly doubt it would be for advice, and seeing as you have mercenaries working for you I doubt you would need our help with remedial tasks.” He didn’t know exactly why Slate would need their help, perhaps he didn’t need help maybe it was more along the lines as a truce.

“I also have to congratulate you on the heart.” Sam said with a sincere smile as he looked to Slate and continued, “If that is the type of healing you are talking about I can’t speak for Tricity or the other members of the team but I could see myself helping you if need be.” He didn’t glace over at Tricity quite yet with the way things were going in this meeting he was sure she was going to shoot him a glance or at least say something later on in the car ride home. However it was Tricity that invited Sam and someone had to listen to what Slate said before mistrusting him so. It could be possible that Slate was a “Good” dictator.

>> "First, if you think the people who worked for Antonescu are all mercenaries, just looking for a check, you're wrong. I'd be careful who you send on your healing of the world missions.”

Slate nodded; it was good advice, if he simply ignored the unsettled feeling in his stomach he received from that very particular emphasis.

>> “Secondly, I have a feeling many of my X-Men won't be so happy to fight along members of The Kabal who have in the past tried to kill us and all."

Slate began to nod—

—What? The teenager’s baby blue eyes blinked as his mind furious raced to categorize every incident she might be referring to. “I... am not sure what you mean,” he stated, his uncertainty creeping into his voice.

The initial deception by Hunter? No deaths or killing attempts had been involved in that, so far as he knew; he was not even certain that the man had succeeded in getting a blood sample from Tricity, as he had aimed to. Even if he had, the sample would be destroyed now, with all the others.

The kidnapping of Iris? Certainly Zelek had been killed then, but to the best of his knowledge, the Mansion and X-Men at large knew little to nothing of that incident. Iris herself had never spread the story of her abduction far, and Zelek had been written off as yet another of the Mansion students who simply disappear after a brief stay. It was a common event around the Mansion; something about mutants made them wanderers, perhaps.

The surveillance during the Registration Act, when Hunter had hosted the Resistance? Certainly a paranoid measure, but not harmful.

Nika’s capture by Roland? He had already explained himself to the girl herself, and he did not think she blamed him or the current Kabal for it.

The—?

>> "Ah, by the way, an example of not trusting your mercenaries... Two guests came to my grounds with The Order's front doors, making it seem as if my team stole them. In response, members of The Order decided to wage war against my residents on the front yard not too long after. Care to explain?"

—Ah. That. Yes, there was that. While technically speaking, the Kabal members in question had done nothing to hurt members of either Facti—err, while they had done nothing to hurt the X-Men directly... Yes. There was that. And he suspected that the Headmistress was in no mood for technicalities. He would stick to facts, as disagreeable as she might find them.

“I fear,” he began delicately, “that I had no control over that. The theft and fight happened in November, if you will recall; I did not gain control of the Kabal until January. That is one of the incidents I had made me decide to take charge, in fact; as you’ve already witnessed first hand, if left idle, some of the Kabal’s members can be...” Idiotically chaotic? Violence-propagating imbeciles? Inane to an extent that both words and face-palms failed to adequately describe? “...Like that. I feared that without a direct leader, they would soon do worse. I am truly sorry for my Faction’s role in instigating that fight, but I would like to ask you to place blame only where it is due. I was not in a position to stop that fight, and I am trying to see to it that such incidents do not repeat. If I do not employee these people, however, then their next residence will likely be the Sanctuary. Neither you nor I can truly control their actions, if that happens.”

He was not entirely certain what the lightening feeling in his chest was when Cold Steel began to speak, but he tentatively pegged it as ‘relief’.

>> “I to am a little bit curious about the situations you might need our aid in. I highly doubt it would be for advice, and seeing as you have mercenaries working for you I doubt you would need our help with remedial tasks.”

There was no sense of confrontation behind his fellow teenager’s words. Simply reason, and a good question. “To be honest,” Slate stated simply, attempting a smile. A small smile. He was not entirely certain how Tricity would react to any sort of smile out of him. “I am not certain, either. I simply wished to open the possibility. It seems strange that groups with a similar goal should behave as if the other does not exist. Even if your side does not wish to be allies, I have no intention of becoming your enemy.” That would do nothing to further his own aims, after all. Illogical hatred was behind most of the problems he saw in this world. Illogical hatred, and meaningless greed.

>> “I also have to congratulate you on the heart. If that is the type of healing you are talking about I can’t speak for Tricity or the other members of the team but I could see myself helping you if need be.”

His smile relaxed into something distinctly less forced. “Thank you. With any luck, it will pass the FDA’s testing within the next year or two; I really believe that it will save many lives. What we haven’t told the media is that it was already tested—on a mutant who was ‘killed’ near the start of the Registration Act. His heart was severely damaged, but the doctors here were able to bring him back.” The mutant in question was Zelek, and it would have been better for the world if he had not been brought back. Not with Hunter’s blood in his veins, in any case. But the point remained: the heart had worked once, and it could work again, for many more people. “I cannot take credit for the original development, of course; I barely knew what the Kabal was, back then. But I’ll certainly bring the technology to light, so it can help others.”

The man’s other words warranted the words yet again: “Thank you. I will never ask you to go against your leader’s orders, but we would never turn down help from you. If you ever think that myself or the other Kabal members could be of aid to you our your teammates, please, do not hesitate to ask.”

(ooc: so um... i posted quite a few days ago, but apparently the site didn't take it. LOL awesome. i'll be back tonight to write something. geez so lame...)