((OOC , this happens a few days after "The Wretched Refuse of your Teaming Shore"))

Sunday morning, and the Church was in full swing. NYC Trinity-Calvin Church was handing out its coffee to the new comers. Phoebe, Pastor Richardson's wife, was busy offering her famous chocolate cake around to eager members of the congregation. It had been a good sermon (Isiah and Corinthians), with traditional hymns. The smell of coffee granules was filling the air from the service desk, the students were gossiping with one another, mutant and non-mutant alike. "All of us are created with God's image in mind. He grants you gifts that you can use to His glory  or to your damnable Sin." Pastor Richardson had once said, even when it was ...less popular to say so. The visible mutations of certain individuals were plain to see-scaly skin here, oddly colored eyes there. Cathy and Jordan had gotten married didn't you know? And Graham had been told by Mary that if he didn't stop drinking she would have to arrange an intervention. Politics was also on people's minds. Trump and his latest stupid announcement, Clinton and her latest stupid announcement... 3rd party candidates and their strange opinions got more of a mention than usual.

Of course what was on the lips of many people here was simple: Utopia. Did you see the speech by Mr Jaager? They said. Did you hear him? I think he makes some good points. Is it really possible do you think? What kind of place would that be like do you think? I think he's just another Trump to be honest. They said all of these opinions. While some had sympathies the general consensus was this:

The crazed yet compelling speech of a man calling for a land of mutants only, a dream that deserved to die a death. Something that no-one could possibly have believed in, he was building walls that the non-mutants WOULD pay for. But the communities would stick together, surely people weren't so reactionary to a hate crime in a different state that had been severely punished? Surely they wouldn't define themselves by their mutation? People were better than that...

Or so Linely had thought. Mr Jaager's speech had captured the hearts of a generation. He was building his "Utopia" pipe dream easily from the dissatisfaction of youth. Linely was young, but he'd seen enough politicians to know that they were all in it for themselves. Even in this place there were a couple of students who wanted to be the first to sign up. Mutants were getting more aggressive towards police, more than a few police officers had been unexpectedly attacked. He honestly wanted to give Jaager a piece of his mind.

An odd thing had happened today though... a really odd thing. Something that put the congregation into a dead hush. For the man who everyone was talking about had walked through the doors of their humble Church. 

Ambrose walked through the doors of the church, and almost immediately attempted to back right the f*ck out.

Unfortunately, he couldn't make a hasty exit anymore. Not with everyone in the damn building staring at him. He hadn't been paying attention, which was why his enhanced hearing hadn't picked up on the chatter inside, but he did recall hearing his name in connection to his little speech on Utopia. He'd just assumed it was from the general chatter of the streets around him. Apparently not.

And he really wasn't here for reasons that would be great to announce publicly. He surreptitiously glanced down at his watch, where the date showed as well as the time - and yup, it was Sunday. Church happened on Sunday. He was such an idiot.

Ambrose had never been a religious man, to be honest - his father had been a Dutch Protestant, and that was enough to turn Ambrose off religion forever, considering all the spew he got about being the Devil's minion or something. It helped that from his rather egocentric point of view, he was his own god, and so he needn't be bothered by any others. Unfortunately, that meant that the association between "Sunday" and "masses of people in a church" had been lost on Ambrose, which was why he'd showed up to a congregation flanked by both of his bodyguards, with the intention of strongarming the pastor into stopping his little side business where he laundered illegally-obtained money through his donation box - for a tidy cut of the profits, of course. Unfortunately, those funds went to a decidedly and violently anti-Ragnarok group, and Ambrose needed that to stop, ASAP. That group had been troublesome lately, and he'd hoped that making an example out of one of their members - the only one he could manage to identify, to be honest - would make a point.

Unsure of what else to do but still projecting a veneer of confidence, Ambrose gestured at Remy, in a hand motion that he meant to make say "wait outside." Unfortunately, some of that was lost in translation, and Remy went to lurk by the church's doors instead in a decidedly gatekeeper-ish way, even if Remy's face seemed always to be locked in perpetual confusion. Ambrose supposed that was so he could use his mutation if necessary, considering the hostile looks they were getting, and - ooh. He was briefly reminded of a movie he'd watched with a brilliant scene involving a massacre in a church. That might be some fun, if the pastor decided not to comply. Romeo had a gas mask for Ambrose tucked inside of his coat, while Romeo had his exoskeleton's helm, so they were certainly prepared, should Ambrose give the order. But not yet. Right now, he wanted to talk, because he'd come out all this way for a reason. And he was a busy man. He wasn't going to wait until everyone had gone, and he was here anyway, standing in the doorway with quite a few people watching him, and he had been for a solid but awkward ten seconds now.

Ambrose cleared his throat.

"Carry on," he said, with as much authority and pleasantness as he could muster, a smile settling on his features. "I'm just here to have a word with Pastor Richardson, if that's alright."

Hundreds of feet away, far away from Ambrose, the pastor paled. He knew why Ambrose was here, and - considering the fact that Ambrose could literally smell the man's fear from this distance - he didn't like it.

Jaager looked rather embarrassed. Was he not used to seeing people in a Church? Linely tried very hard not not to look too amused at this but couldn't help a cheeky smirk at the situation. Still, all eyes were on him, and even someone as skeptical of Jaager as Linely was could recognise the aura of menace that he projected. The embarrassment quickly turned to authority and self-confidence, this man was clearly someone who thought the world revolved around him.

>>"Carry on...I'm just here to have a word with Pastor Richardson if that's alright"

Richardson had gone pale ...he was trembling a bit in honesty. Linely had never seen him so scared in his life. He regained composure enough to produce the words "Very well Mr Jaager" then he looked at Linely "Joseph, you might want to be part of this discussion. Everyone else, I believe you were having coffee?"

The gossip started up again, a wave of sound crashed on to the scene. With new questions. What could Mr. Jaager want with Pastor Richardson? Why did Mark pull Joseph into their conversation? He's a policeman right? I hope that Mark's not in trouble.

Joseph was concerned, he walked to his pastor as quickly as he could, meeting him quickly in the centre of the church hall. Richardson was always someone that you could talk to about anything, and when he helped people with confession he was always very understanding. He could sense guilt... always a useful skill in the hands of a priest, or a policeman, or a criminal. Joseph hoped Mark hadn't got himself into trouble, the last thing he wanted to do was arrest his own minister.

"We wait for Mr Jaager, Joseph... I feel safer with you nearby me, your police duties may be required here. Mr Jaager, would you like some cake? Coffee perhaps?" Mark smiled at Ambrose, giving a look to his wife that was ridiculously passive aggressive.

Phoebe quickly offered the tray of coffee (some mugs had already been taken by passing congregation members) quickly followed by their 13 year old son, Joshua, who carried the plate holding half a chocolate cake.

"It is really good Mr Jaager, I can vouch for it" Linely spoke in a friendly manner as he took a piece himself, relishing the chance to partake in good baking. He took a coffee for himself as well... goodness he was going to need it. Part of him wished that they could break open another bottle of the communion wine. From the look of the pastor, whose coffee cup was trembling in his hand, he was thinking the same thing.

"Very well, Mr. Jaager," the pastor said, clearly wanting everything but. He looked at somebody else who Ambrose didn't recognize - a man who Ambrose could only described as "chiseled," really. "Joseph, you might want to be part of this discussion. Everyone else, I believe you were having coffee?"

The chatter started up again. But this time, Ambrose got looks. And they didn't know it, of course, but he could hear them all perfectly well when he tried, and they were rather deliberately talking about him. Oh well. No violence, then, though he could always send Remy back later to make it violent. What was irritating was the new information he gathered - Joseph, as it seemed, was a policeman. Clearly, Richardson was more willing to risk jail than Ambrose.

He was going to have to figure out a way to word his message that was a bit more... altruistic.

"We wait for Mr Jaager , Joseph...I feel safer with you nearby me, your police duties may be required here." Ambrose may have still been walking towards where the two stood in the center of the church, accompanied by the more intimidating Romeo, but he could hear them. Superhuman hearing had its perks. And yup, clearly the pastor was willing to risk arrest when it was that or bodily harm.

Ambrose had revised his plan. He was going to implicate the pastor to the policeman, that was for sure, but then he still needed to figure out how to send that clear message of "don't mess with Ragnarök." He could order a hit on Richardson, but that was too targeted. People would make the connection. Inciting a prison riot worked too, and having Richardson be one of the unfortunate casualties, but Remy would need to be physically present to do that - again, too risky, considering Remy and his unfortunately identical twin were also present. The most likely plan seemed to be to have Remy start a fight in the church later, considering then people would be too dead or traumatized to identify Remy's involvement. Richardson would stay safe, unfortunately, but he'd feel incredibly guilty when the news about the body count rolled in - and he'd know it was for him. Rumors abounded in the streets that the notorious Capitoline twins were in the employ of Ambrose Jaager now, and the scope of their powers was well-known. Yes, Richardson - and the entire gang - would understand that this was for them.

Good plan. Now to execute the first part.

"Mr Jaager, would you like some cake? Coffee perhaps?" the pastor said nervously, shooting his wife and child a look. They scrambled to offer Ambrose some coffee, with the little one bearing a tray of cake.

"It is really good Mr Jaager, I can vouch for it," Joseph said in a decidedly friendly manner. Ambrose smiled back. They needed to take this somewhere more private.

"Thank you, but I'll pass," he said politely, giving the boy specifically a smile. Richardson looked threatened by that. Good. He should be. "I'm afraid I don't have that much time, and I've come to talk to the good pastor about a..." He looked at Joseph - not deliberately, more offhandedly. "Personal matter." He turned back to the pastor. "Do you have a more private place we could talk in? I'm not sure you'd want this conversation heard by others." A few people standing nearby, clearly listening in, turned away guiltily at that remark, further serving to prove Ambrose's point. Ambrose didn't want to look like an asshole in public, which he would if he did all this in public. This way, he looked a bit more thoughtful when he was inevitably questioned about it.

Jaager's polite declining of the cake was accompanied by an unusual look towards the boy. Policemen are trained to see that kind of thing you berk, Linely thought, it was now obvious that Jaager's motivations were probably less than friendly, if the fact that Mark had brought him into the conversation hadn't made it plain already.

Linely eyed the two body guards as well, they looked somewhat menacing for entering a church on political business. Something wasn't right here. Fortunately there were probably enough mutants in congregation that they wouldn't get very far. He knew a couple of mutants had accidentally killed someone (him included), and were probably capable of doing it deliberately if they needed to.

"There's the office next door - it's a small room mind - only enough for about three people" Richardson looked at Joseph again. The Pastor's reaction was polite, Linely thought, but it was obvious that Ambrose was a threat. " Very well Mark, I'll make sure you two deal with each other... fairly." He was ready to use his powers on Ambrose if necessary. Doubtless someone in a high standing in business such as him had a few scrapes somewhere.

Richardson, trembling as he did it, moved towards the office and opened the door. "Well then Mr Jaager, shall we go in?" He asked, regaining a little bit more composure. Linely entered through into the office, and took a seat on a comfortable, black leather, chair.

Ambrose could tell when he was being sized up, and this was one of those times. A policeman wouldn't try anything, right? Not in public, and definitely not to a figure as public as Ambrose. Most people of Ambrose's stature could make sure that people like Joseph would lose their jobs with a snap of a finger - and even if Ambrose didn't necessarily have NYPD connections now, he would in the next twenty-four hours if it became necessary. Also, as rich as he was, he could just make a fuss about being attacked by a policeman and the commissioner would scramble to kow-tow, especially considering Ambrose's sizable donations to the police force over the years. (It was a one-sided sort of taunting - a "I literally help fund you but you still can't catch me" sort of thing, even if Ambrose was the only one privy to said taunting.) And really, though - Richardson thought a mere police officer would protect him? He probably understood that Ambrose wouldn't do anything to risk his reputation here, but Ambrose and the brothers could probably take out the entire congregation if Ambrose felt like it. Fortunately for Richardson, Ambrose didn't feel like doing anything too extreme yet.

If Ambrose had known about the measly body count of the mutants present, and how they viewed it as high, he would've scoffed. He'd probably killed more people in one night than the whole church combined had in all their lives. Hell, the Carr brothers had killed more people than there were in this church in one night. So no. He wasn't threatened, at all. There was a reason anti-Utopia extremists who wanted to take out Ambrose didn't really get far, and Ambrose's new bodyguards - the police commissioner himself had advised Ambrose to get bodyguards, ironically - were a large part of that reason.

"There's the office next door - it's a small room mind - only enough for about three people," the pastor said. Well. It looked as if Ambrose wasn't getting rid of Joseph just yet. It looked as if Romeo would have to wait outside, then. That wasn't a problem, considering Romeo's power. He'd be fine.

"Very well Mark, I'll make sure you two deal with each other... fairly," Joseph said, and Ambrose only then noticed his accent. Well, he was a long way from home. Interesting. Ambrose wondered if Joseph would eat his words when he found out Richardson's little side hobby.

Ambrose nodded, still smiling, and followed as the pastor led them to the office. Romeo planted himself by the doorway like a sentinel of sorts, crossing his arms to look even more intimidating. Well, he was succeeding. Granted, Romeo was scarier in his full exoskeleton, but there was no need for that just yet.

"Well then Mr Jaager, shall we go in?" the pastor said, holding the door open. Joseph went in first, taking a seat. Ambrose followed, giving the pastor a smile that showed just a little bit of fang now that the policeman's back was turned, and took a seat as well. The pastor came in last, settling in the only available chair.

"Well," Ambrose said briskly. "I trust you know why I'm here, Mr. Richardson. It's about Thomas."

He could see the pastor's eyebrow twitch, almost imperceptibly. Richardson had no idea who Thomas was, and neither did Ambrose, considering Thomas didn't exist. But he could exist, and that was what mattered.

"I'm here as a favor to his father, who works under me," Ambrose said. "I was hoping to not make that big of a deal about it, considering I'm only here about Thomas, but it was your choice to bring in the police."

Ambrose could see a look of horror dawning on the pastor's face, along with... realization? What? Apparently there was someone that the pastor felt guilty about, possibly inexplicably named Thomas, and Ambrose had hit the gold mine if that was true.

"Thomas has gotten mixed up with Judgement Day," Ambrose said, with finality. Judgement Day was the strangely long name of the gang the pastor laundered money for. They had a weird vendetta against Ragnarök - the reason why the pastor assumed Ambrose was here, of course - and had been rather public about it, too. Unfortunately, they'd also been very violent. Ambrose had lost four Rag members over the past month, each murdered in increasingly brutal ways, which the policeman would doubtless be aware of (considering the bodies always had the same message by them - Ragnarök's logo with "DEATH TO" spray painted above it, signed, conveniently, with "Judgement Day"). "His father, obviously, is worried about him. I asked around and was told that if I wanted to get in contact with Judgement Day, I was to reach out to you." Boom. Health bar hits zero - finish him. You win. Ambrose knew that Richardson knew, too. There was no way for him to defend himself from such an accusation. Denial, yes, but that rarely worked. He could tell the truth and say he only laundered money, but that was still a crime. And if he tried to tell the full truth - that Ambrose was a part of the very terrorist group that Judgement Day was against - he'd be laughed straight into jail. That theory - that Ambrose was Jörmungandr, one of the foremost lieutenants of Ragnarök - was out there already, and it was reserved for the deepest, most pathetic echelons of the Internet. It may not necessarily be exactly what the pastor believed Ambrose did - most just believed him to be a generic member, not the "Death Dragon" himself - that theory was what most jumped to when they heard accusations of Ambrose's Ragnarok involvement, and those accusations were therefore never believed. It definitely wouldn't be believed coming out of the mouth of an incriminated pastor.

Checkmate. Ambrose would preen if it wouldn't be too obvious. Instead, he kept looking at Richardson with an unreadable but undeniably serious expression on his face.

Ambrose was next to sit down, he looked calm, collected, sanguine almost, Linely could see that he felt totally in control. That look that he was giving Mark was not pleasant at all, it was meant to be all friendly-like, but it was predatory. Then he actually began speaking -and oh what a story it was.

Ambrose was talking about someone who had got involved with Judgement Day, a fellow named "Thomas", surely Mark hadn't got involved with them? They were psychopaths! At least Ragnorok had a clear set out plan in mind-you knew where they stood, but he'd seen your average Judgement Day hit. They tended not to be very pretty, they had some killers who were particularly unpleasant. DEATH TO he kept remembering over and over, those chilling words left behind at every scene...

Mark looked panicked , he was sweating visibly, this was not a ordinary sweat, but sheer terror. "Please don't hurt my family Mr Jaager" he spoke faintly, almost quietly. So Mark was involved with them. That wasn't a crime in itself, and Jaager clearly had not made any specific allegation. "I'm not even that involved with them ...they threatened to..." Mark was whimpering now, like a beaten puppy. So coercion had a part to play, that made sense now.

"I can give you names of their more senior members... if you leave me alone, I'll even cut you in on the deal you had with them if you want" . Begging with a psychopath was never a good idea at the best of times, Linely had no doubt that he was dealing with one of those, that awfully cold look behind Jaager's eyes was plain to see. Why Richardson was wanting to give names to Jaager, Linely had no idea.

"I think I've heard enough" Linely started speaking. "If you won't take the names, then I happily will" he spoke plainly to Jaager. "We've been after these guys for months, and even if you know something more. I'd also like to know more about this Thomas fellow and your employee, if we can get his son back we will, I'm sure you'd be delighted to assist." Richardson was overreacting, if anything Jaager had just helped him get out of a heap of trouble, and the police could take over from here. "There's evidence of coercion from this group Mark, and that doesn't make you a bad person." Even if Mark HAD been profiting from whatever he'd been doing, that was a classic tactic of criminal gangs, gave their extortionees something to be blackmailed by. Profit under coercion was very smart like that.

"So if you could stay a while so we can get things sorted Mr Jaager, that would be wonderful" Joseph tried to be as friendly as possible, despite the fact that Ambrose had nearly reduced a good man to tears.

Coercion?

Um, no.

It looked like the pastor had the same idea Ambrose was, and was playing that game too. No one was "coerced" into being paid more than just a little for their services. No one was "coerced" into expanding and offering to launder money for other groups too. No one was "coerced" into threatening said groups with the wrath of Judgement Day when they weren't paid high enough. (That was how Ambrose had known to go to Mark Richardson, actually. Ambrose's true form wasn't quite fit for interrogation, considering he was more likely to kill the person he was interrogating by accident than he was to get useful information out of them, so the Carr twins had been the one to get the name. And interrogation hadn't even been involved - from what Romeo had reported, he'd literally just walked up to a member of another gang and asked if they knew any members of Judgement Day, and was treated to a tirade of innovative insults concerning Richardson's unconventional business practices without any more prompting. The hardened gang even bought them drinks when they realized that the brothers wanted the name as a target. Remy hadn't needed to do anything; he literally just stood to the side and drank whatever he was handed.) Ambrose didn't know what Joseph did about profit under coercion, especially since his morals weren't quite as elegant as the law. As far as he was concerned, Richardson was a bad man who had indirectly assisted in the killings of Ragnarök members. That was good enough for Ambrose.

He was impressed by the sweating, though. He'd never seen someone sweat on command. Although, that might be legitimate terror that now that he'd lost all leverage, and that Ragnarök finally had a finger on the people that'd been murdering its members, both Richardson and his family were all targets for possible revenge. From what he'd heard, Ambrose wouldn't even need to hurt the man's family. He was relatively certain there were plenty of people lining up to do it already.

Also, the guy needed to shut up, that begging for mercy was making Ambrose seem so sketchy. He could tell that Joseph suspected Ambrose wasn't as he seemed. Which, valid. But it was still unwanted suspicion.

On a totally separate note, Ambrose realized something as Joseph spoke. The pastor was a mutant, he knew that; the only non-conflicting information about Richardson that he had was that the man was a mutant and a horrible business partner. But he didn't know Richardson's mutation. That was somewhat worrying, because if Richardson got violent, who knew how powerful his mutation was?

...maybe, come to think of it, it was the ability to sweat on command.

No. That was stupid. Moving on.

Joseph had been speaking to him, but Ambrose had only been half paying attention. Apparently, he was going to have to work out the Thomas ruse a bit more, but that was easy deflection. In the meantime. The face that Ambrose had worn while he'd been lost in his own thoughts had been one of sympathetic apology, as if he believed Richardson's little lies too. It stayed on as he spoke.

"So if you could stay a while so we can get things sorted Mr Jaager, that would be wonderful," Joseph said.

"I'd be glad to," Ambrose said. "I'm afraid I won't be too much help with Thomas, however. His father was insistent that I not bring anyone else into it, for personal reasons." He was weaving a story even as he spoke - Thomas's mother, divorced, was on the police force, and the father had custody. If she heard about this, she'd surely use it against her former husband, and he'd lose Thomas.

Brilliant. Now just to hope he wouldn't have to use that story. The more he tacked on, the more likely it was that somebody would figure out that it was all a lie, and that was more questions than he needed so soon after his Utopia announcement.

"Look Mr. Jaager, I need the names, I need to know that neither Richardson's family or him will be harmed. It's clear that he is absolutely terrified of you, and considering Judgement Day is heavily associated with trying to take out Ragnorok...it's just some internet conspiracy I'm sure -but it would be rather embarrassing to have to conduct a police investigation of your building, particularly after such an important political announcement. I needn't tell you that withholding information from police that is crucial to an investigation when asked for it is an offence. It's called wasting police time." This was a slightly lax interpretation of the law , but considering how much obvious fear the Pastor was showing, Linely had the feeling that he and his family would have to go under
witness protection anyway.

It was of course nonsense that Jaager was a member of Ragnorok, just some internet conspiracy of the worst kind , it had been debunked on Snopes, but it was enough Linely was sure to get his ears to prick up. Mark was his friend, he'd made a mistake, but didn't Christ himself teach forgiveness?

Richardson was looking far calmer now, he was in fact smiling, relieved. That gave some comfort to Linely. It was good that Mark saw that he didn't need to feel threatened by a political bully that comes in all guns blazing and expects to be treated like some kind of God to be worshiped.

In fact Richardson had sensed something on Mr Jaager's conscience. Guilt was normally quite simple, forgive me father for I have sinned type stuff. Mr Jaager was guilty, but far more selfishly guilty. He wished that he hadn't just told a pack of lies clearly, he felt he may have betrayed himself. Or rather he had underestimated Richardson. "So Mr Jaager" Richardson said with more power in his voice than ever before "would you like to join us for the evening service, it's going to be a fun one, we're going through a series of sermons on Revelation- this one is going to be on the four horsemen."

This was in fact true. Joseph thought, and he supposed a pleasant invitation was a good way to sort out an encounter that had got off on the wrong foot. "I still expect you to give the names Mark, and to stop this stupid money laundering thing, the MRC will now be protecting your Church and your home until we can be sure Judgement Day is eliminated."

Joseph stood up "now I think it's time we rejoined the congregation, we don't want the gossip-mongers to keep us here any longer than we have too, after all talking of newspaper headlines..."he then made a rather dirty joke referring to Ambrose in relation to Bill Clinton which made Richardson blush at the crudeness of it.