Panu had learned that he should not open all attachments on his email. He had learned this like other children learn to wash their hands before they eat, or else they will spend the next few days miserable in bed installing anti-virus software into their brains. But this email came from Madeline Brass so probably it was okay.

Still. The nine year old maybe cringe a little as he downloaded it.

Inside was most beautiful thing ever. But probably a joke.

Is joke? He texted.

Is not joke, Ms. Brass sent back. He was never sure if she used his bad grammar as a friendly joke or because secretly she wished he would learn proper English and even now she was maybe putting claw gouges into her desk.

The attachment was a .pdf, as all documents should be. It was titled “Form C4: For the proper requisition of explosive devices in a chaos organization.” Every line from there was better.

100% better even than the form itself: someone had put it on Madeline's desk, already filed out.

Did you make it? Madeline asked.

english is too good

i thought so. She sent, which was again something that made him wonder if she was making fun. Check the cameras.

He did. It was the intern.

To: Elliot Thomas <[e-mail]>
From: Why Do I Need A Corporate Email This Is Stupid <[e-mail]>

Please report to Midgard conference room immediately re: unauthorized creation of orderly bureaucracy in middle of our chaos faction.

This message is self-destruct 10 seconds after you open so hopefully you are not slow reader.

It did. Ten seconds after opening, the message self-deleted.

Up in the conference room, Panu hoped that his message was not too scary, because actually he had ordered pizza and was now sitting in a chair that was maybe too long for his swinging legs and waiting for World's Best Intern to come have free lunch with him.

He got all the way to This message is self-destruct 1 before the message mysteriously went poof. Well I'll be damned. Elliott stared at the screen in amused disbelief. Whoever had sent that message had some skills with computers. His friend Meg would have been impressed. Now where was the Midgard conference room?

It took him a few minutes to go and ask a secretary where the conference room was. He didn't ask THE secretary. Brass was a little too bold for him, sometimes. The claw gouges in her desk were a good reminder of why one simply doesn't bother a tiger about insignificant things.

He was somehow not worried when he rode the elevator up to the level the conference room was on. Why was Elliott not worried? Two reasons. 1: The email had seemed kind of silly from what he'd briefly read of it, and 2: The hacker had enough of a sense of humor to actually create a self-deleting e-mail. He had follow-through. Why he had suddenly given the mystery person, [e-mail], a male gender specifier, he wasn't sure. Pjaager. P. Jaager. He rolled that over in his mind for a minute, but didn't go anywhere with it. Elliott had a suspicion of some sort of connection in his mind, but-- He went nowhere with it. He wasn't even certain he'd read that email address correctly, and making assumptions was a bad business practice. The fact he'd read the e-mail address at all had probably been the reason why he had not been able to read the entire message in whatever increment of time it had specified. So thinking a Pjaager could be related to an A Jaager was a jump he had no business making. He made enough mistakes, as it was. Whatever the sender's identity, it would be clear once he entered the room.

Elliott turned the doorknob, and entered the conference room a moment after deciding he wouldn't make any stupid assumptions about the e-mail senders identity, and how he may or may not have been some part of Jaager's family.

He was now in the conference room. The green space man's eyes fell on the young boy sitting at the conference table, feet not quite reaching the ground. The chair was too large for him. Antennae twitched once, twice. All that talk of making assumptions went out the window as Elliott smiled his jagged zipper-tooth smile at the boy and said. "P. Jaager, I presume?"

The intern was tall and lime green and had things on his head like a grasshopper that were black and awesome and probably not to be stared at because sometimes mutants who really really looked like mutants did not think they were as awesome as Panu knew they were. Fortunately he had many eyes here to stare quietly for him. A security camera out in the hall that pointed at the door and had watched the man come, one in the corner of the room, and video conference camera-and-screen set ups at every seat that showed him a pretty view of the New York skyline and himself and Elliot Thomas. This was the intern's name.

The blonde boy stood and straightened his shoulders and held out his hand and did his best to look like he was making eye contact.

"Presume is correct. My name is Panu Harmaajärvi-Jaager. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Please have a seat, I made order of pizza for our lunch. I am great admire your work for secret evil company, your PDF is eloquent like American RickRoll."

Noel would be very proud of him because that was 100% not-with-a-translator flawless English.

It was a safe bet that Elliot would recognize him, if not from his daily trek through the foyer and into the company's off-limits R&D department basement, then from the televised Utopia announcement some weeks back, where he had stood quiet and polite in a child-sized suit and made Ambrose Jaager look like a caring family man. It was no particular secret that the company's CEO had adopted a son, though the blonde boy had traded his suit for much more comfortable Gray Hoodie That Drowned Him, and had put back on his studio headphones that Ms. Brass had made him take off for TV. 

Elliott smiled at him for the glowing compliment about his form. He seemed foreign and friendly, and generally harmless, or at least not wanting to dismember or maim him at present. He recalled the boy from Jaagers speech. He had been the small boy by the mans side. It seemed Ragnarok was a family organization.

He shook the offered hand politely, still smiling, and replied. "Thanks. I thought 'hey, what's more chaotic in a chaos faction than beaurocracy?' I'm trying to keep people on their toes here, and keep things running smoothly during the big Utopia transition. Whatever the long game is there." He wasn't top level so he didn't know all the things, but clearly there was something, or else why create a new nation, and name it utopia if they weren't going to end the world in a flood and destroy all the gods eventually after the setup?

He sat down at the seat next to Panu, taking note of the monitor by his seat. He wasn't going to sit all the way across the table from Panu if it was just the two of them. That was silly.

The boy had said he was a fan of his work for the company, so maybe he had seen the gang warfare he was working on creating in the streets? It had started with a simple kidnapping that had turned to murder which he'd arranged the blame for on a riva crime family, and then he'd started taking out crime family higher ups, and turning them against the people they already didn't trust. And he recently had started working towards adding to their ranks. Maybe they were here to talk about all of that? "Besides the form, what else of my work do you admire?" He quested innocuously.

If there was pizza he hoped they had ordered Hawaiian or meats, because he preferred them over simple pepperoni... not that there was anything wrong with that. Alternatively, maybe Panu had ordered something hilariously foreign and he'd learn what Finnish people ate on their American pizzas. Little salty fish maybe? He was an alien. He could dig it.

((OOC: Shot me a PM if I should modify anything. I took some liberties with Elliot's form filing at large. ))

The man picked a seat next to him, which was good and friendly. Panu hopped back into his own seat, crossing his legs on the cushion because this was Informal Meeting so he did not need to sit like Company Drone.

"I also am admire your ability to submit mission report in haiku. Also, submit mission reports at all." This was chaos faction. If Madeline sharpened her claws on everyone who did not report what they were doing, then probably Madeline would be impounded by ASPCA as rapid tiger. "It is look like you take entertain in work. I am also do many things because I am bored and world needs breaking."

See? They had so much in common, like Best Friends already. Panu's foot jiggled on the chair like a puppy's wagging tail.

The pizza came, delivered by an intern who was not even 75% as cool as Elliot even though he did have a very cool color-changing mohawk. Panu had told this intern "please surprise me" when intern asked what pizza types he should order. This is what was brought in: BBQ chicken, Noah's arc (which probably was missing some endangered animals but appeared to have everything else), Cajun Veggie (with extra mushroom), and Surprise (which had many unidentifiable lumps under a thick layer of camoflauging cheese).

The mohawk intern was probably hope there would be leftovers, because Intern Breakroom was like pit of ravenous lions from which no food escaped.

Panu let Elliot serve himself first, because this was polite, and then he took one slice of each because New York pizza shops were crazy in the delicious way.

"Form c4," Elliot weighed each word, red eyes regarding the young boy in front of him, as if considering every aspect. He began counting off syllables on his fingers, a difficult task when one has three on each hand to count with. On three, he moved over to the next to reach five syllables for the first part, on six for the second, he started off on a new hand.

"Requisition form
For appropriation of
High class explosives."

A haiku. Simple and formal, you'd hardly think it a haiku by a mere glance, since the message suited the goal of the form grandly. Then it would hit you, and you'd stare at what you'd just read.

He submitted mission reports because he wanted to show progress, so he would get paid. If he did nothing, Elliott felt the paychecks would stop coming, and it was up to him to make certain he kept things running smoothly so as to prevent his position from vanishing or cause the overlord to decide he was not worth keeping around. If he did things also because he was bored, also out of a need to exercise his creativity, it only served his ends.

Elliott bobbed his head slightly at what Panu had said. "'Create chaos' is a fairly large umbrella to put missions under." He said mildly. "I want to make sure I show my worth here, you know? Expansion of business is never a bad idea. I want to make sure people realize we actually do things. And hey, if we can do things that cause a chain reaction, cause a snowball effect... it's good to get the ball rolling."

The pizza came. There were all sorts. Cajun Veggie and BBQ chicken were his picks. Elliott nodded to the intern politely, said thank you, and piled a couple of slices on his plate. Then Elliott sat back down to take a bite of the veggie pizza. It was savory and just a bit spicy, with a mix of vegetables that really gave it a unique kick.

Noah's Arc pizza was make his stomach feel heavy and slow. He took a bite of Cajun Veggie, but this was hot in the terrible way that had nothing to do with temperature and it was belated but he googled 'cajun' and realized his mistake too late for his tongue. After this he was not feel brave enough for Surprise. BBQ pizza was safe and delicious and excellent and he would never eat anything else ever again.

“Were are you see us expand?” The blond boy asked, while he quietly googled snowball effect (which was a much safer word, in the end, then 'cajun'.) “What is snowball roll over and what is it hit at end?”

Elliot had bright red eyes that were like his. No pupils that mattered, no where to try to see into his soul or other stupid English phrases. But he saw, all the same. He saw in ordered forms and proper filing and haiku. Maybe he saw same place for this to end, too.

"Right now," Elliott said thoughtfully. As he spoke, he let the slice of pizza resting in the palm of his hand swing back and forth in a minor dance, like a cheesy metronome. One moment, the tip pointed towards Panu. The next, it pointed towards the wall. Panu. Window. Wall. In time with what the green man was saying. "We are focused on causing chaos. We bomb. We graffiti. We do other things. But it doesn't have a direction that I can gather. Which makes sense." Chaos was chaos. Complete disorder and confusion. "Except, we also are building a Utopia. And all of this, ultimately, is supposed to lead somewhere. I suspect. It has been hinted at. Yet, I still don't understand Utopia. We can talk about that in a minute."

He paused for a breath, but didn't let the boy interrupt him before he finished his thought. "I feel like this chaos is supposed to destabilize the world, so that we can build something from the rubble. You have to break ground in order to build on it. What I'd like to see, is some branching out. Expanding towards targeting people, and ideas that don't work with what we want with this "new world". So, I started small. I kidnapped a mob boss's kid, and framed a rival mob for the crime, so that the two would fight each other. Because it disorganizes the crime families, and causes confusion. And I guess, partly because it kind of helps the world be a better place... if criminals kill themselves. Once people stop getting hurt on the sidelines. I am not going to say I really care too much about that. And from there, maybe target hate groups? Politicians that make the world worse, because they do corrupt things? I haven't got a decisive path in mind. I might be overstepping here. I am still doing things to change what's normal, to cause disorder and confusion. But I feel like it leads to something."

Was he wrong? He was guessing. The All-Important Leader didn't go around telling people his mission statement, or if he did, Elliott had missed the memo. Personally, he didn't care too much about this touchy feely, 'make the world a better place' garbage, but someone out there probably did. "Disrupt and cause confusion. We can do that." Elliott said. "We can have a direction too. Why not both?"