The door to the corner office opened. Maxwell walked out into his reception area straightening him tie. He pulled out a handkerchief from inside his suit pocket and wiped the lipstick that had smeared off his face. He placed his thick rimmed glasses on his face as a woman came out of his office behind him.

Ms. Jones was finishing rebuttoning her blouse. She was a rather new paralegal at Rosewood Law and Associates. She had asked for a meeting with Maxwell and seemed...eager...to work.

Maxwell's personal assistant James rose from his desk as Maxwell entered. He handed Maxwell his briefcase which Max had filled with the files for his meeting with his client. James was a nice man, not that that mattered to Maxwell. What mattered to Maxwell was that he was ferociously loyal and almost annoyingly driven to please. It made for a good assistance.

The three entered the elevator and rode from the 6th floor. They made a stop at the fourth floor and Ms. Jones stepped off. Maxwell held the door open button and looked at James.

"James could you be so kind as to help Ms. Jones clear her workspace and pack her things" Maxwell said.

James stepped off the elevator without a word and headed down the hall to where Ms. Jones cubical was. The woman looked like she had just been smacked in the face. She turned at Maxwell in shock.

"What? Why? We just.." she began.

"Precisely," Maxwell interupted, "which is in direct violation of the employee contract you signed when you were hired. If you aren't intelligent enough to understand the forbidding of relations between personel we have little need of you here."

She looked instantly furious and Max released the door open button.

"But what about you?" She called back.

Max gave her a million dollar smile.

"My contract has no such stipulation." He replied.

The doors shut and he was off.

She would do one of two things, and it would determine her future. Most likely she would pack her things, go home, and cry to whatever excuse for a loved one she has. Or, when Maxwell returned she would be there, she would have a fire in her eyes and a lawsuit on her lips, and he would know she was worth keeping in his employment.

For now however he had larger concerns. He got into the car that was pulled up front for him and headed to the resturant he had been told to meet Jorge. He had some simple paperwork concerning some business deals that the man had made above the board, but Maxwell also needed to discuss a few matters with Poseidon concerning a murder committed by one of his gang members. The guy had been sloppy and gotten caught. Maxwell was supposed to represent him. It had only gotten more complicated.

He got out of the car and entered the resturaunt. Well at least he would be getting a decent lunch today. He usually never made time for such luxury in a business day.

If there was one thing that this town valued above all else, it was be able to attain that which is exclusive. Stage productions, charity events, antiques, venues, what have you, the more exclusive it was, the more buzz it attained and more rabid people became to be part of it. There was nothing like posting on social media to make friends and loved ones absolutely green with envy at your conquest. At least that was the way things seemed to be going these days. People cared more about “Likes” and “Retweets” as opposed to anything else. To say you could do something that a population of the city could only dream of was an intoxicating experience.

That was why, when the hottest and most exclusive new French restaurant in towned, Les Freres Heureux (The Happy Brothers) closed their doors for lunch, social media blew up in a fit of anger. Reservations had been cancelled, events had been moved, and each time calls for an explanation were only met with “We’re closed for a private event”. Of course names were asked for, more information, but the owners of the restaurant knew better. The “private event” would remain that and nothing more, considering that that was the clientele’s wishes.

The restaurant was at the highest end of class and chic. It was decorated to express a calm atmosphere, warm colors were gathered all about, while live, potted trees were sat, situated at key points throughout. Each table was made of the darkest mahogany but was covered with linen of the highest thread count. The plates, made of the finest porcelain were placed with precision upon each table and the glassware of was the finest crystal. Les Freres Heureux was at the epitome of class and elegance, the likes of which few people would ever get to see in their lives. Anyone who could see this room would find themselves having an almost religious experience.

For Jorge Cervantes, otherwise known as Poseidon, the leader of Ragnarok – it was a Tuesday.

Sitting in the center-most table, under a ceiling lamps of black and gold, the business man sat cross-legged, casually looking over his newspaper at the financial sections. He was dressed in a suit of fine black threads with a tie weaved from silvery beams of moonlight. Not even knowing who he was, anyone could see that he was an important individual. However, to those that did know him, they also knew he was quite dangerous.

Having bought out the entire restaurant for the lunch meeting, Jorge was the lone figure in the room, sans the waitress who stood at the read with menus in hand. She didn’t approach, she didn’t ask if he wanted anything, instead she remained silent and subservient, exactly how Jorge liked them.

At the sounds of the doors opening, he lifted his head when he caught sight of the familiar individual with the dark glasses. Maxwell Rosewood, a young attorney, but one whom Jorge could see a future for. The young man was nearly as unscrupulous as himself; Jorge liked him the second that they met. He knew he could trust the young man, so long as he was paid well enough and any needs of his met. While it was unfortunate that from time-to-time Jorge needed a lawyer, he couldn’t have picked a better one.

He nodded his head to Max as he drew closer to the table. ”Max,” the crimeboss said with a sparkling, winning smile. ”It is good to see you. I do hope your hungry.”

He snapped his fingers and the young waitress quickly answered by moving to the table. She set Jorge’s menu down and turned to deliver Max’s she jumped and squeaked at the sensation of a well-placed pinch. A blush on her cheeks, she delivered Max his menu before she stepped away to head back into the kitchens to collect water and bread.

Jorge only grinned as he watched her leave. When she was gone, he turned back to Max and smirked. ”Tell me, how have you been?” Jorge asked. ”You eating enough? I mean no harm, but you are looking a tad thin for a strapping young man of your age.”

Maxwell entered the resturant and saw immediately why it was considered one of New Yorks finest establishments. French cuisine already came with a rather large stigma of class and elegance. Les Freres Heureux took that idea and doubled down on it, creating a dining experience that was unparalleled.

Jorge Cervantes sat at the table like a king lounged in a throne. He was seated at the center table, making him impossible to miss. The man had a sense of style and purpose that Maxwell respected. He and Jorge had hit it off from the moment they met. Maxwell had just established his practice and Jorge gave him a chance, a chance that led Maxwell to quite a reliable flow of income.

Jorge had a charming personality and had always been kind to Maxwell. He was also probably the most dangerous man Maxwell had ever met, and the last person whom Maxwell would ever want to find himself standing against. It was a good thing he was smart enough to make sure that never happened.

Jorge gave him a nod and greeted him as he approached the table. Max set his briefcase down and returned Jorges smile.

"Quite famished to be honest," He made a small gesture to note the room, " I approve of the choice of venue, I've been wanting to try the food here for ages but haven't had an oportunity."

He sat and the waitress gave him his menu and poured him a glass of wine. Maxwell smirked into it as she shyly walked off blushing from Jorge. He could be quite the charmer.

- ”Tell me, how have you been? You eating enough? I mean no harm, but you are looking a tad thin for a strapping young man of your age.”

It was his usual paternal tone. Jorge had a way of talking to Maxwell like that. It was the tone of an uncle whom had a particular favorite nephew.

"Oh busy as usual, have to keep the firm running. Long hours I know you understand," He said with a small laugh, " I try not to skip to many meals, though missing a few isn't too terrible considering I spend more time at my desk than in the gym these days."

The waitress returned and Maxwell gave his order. He waited for Jorge to do the same before continuing. Privacy was of the utmost importance to Poseidon.

"I've barely found time to finish the restore on my 66 Chevelle. Painted ocean blue, I thought you'd approve. You really should stop by the house sometime and see." Maxwell chatted.

Maxwell had purchased a three story apartment building. The third floor was his gym and office, the second his living quarters, and the third a combination garage and showroom. The fancy cars always reminded him of his father. That man had loved going to car shows.

"How's the club treating you?" He asked.

Jorge liked Max. There was no shame in saying that, often times, Jorge played favorites with him. Most of his associates didn’t understand why the older crime lord would pour some much time and energy into the young man, but the answer was simple enough to him. In Maxwell, Jorge saw an abundance of potential. He was a mutant, he was trying to make his way in the world of law, and Jorge had always been a fan of molding others into greatness – especially when it would benefit him in the long run. By showing faith in the young man, picking him up when he made his minor mistakes, and ensuring that Maxwell’s practice was a fixture in the city, Jorge was essentially buying himself a member of the law professional. One who wouldn’t be bought out by others, one who could be loyal to the plight of both mutantkind and the legitimate business that Jorge ran.

Of course it helped that Maxwell also provided law services to man of his own associates who were stupid enough to get caught. Max was a hell of an attorney and one that Jorge trusted; not too much, mind you, but enough to feel comfortable having business arrangements such as this with. Of course should Max ever fall off the rails or become a liability, the man certainly wasn’t a sucker of nostalgia. Thankfully this was a state that Poseidon hadn’t even considered…yet. Max did his job and that was all he asked for.

When he watched the young man enter, Jorge was all smiles. He greeted him with all the familiarity of a family member, one who did care about his well-being. Of course he couldn’t help but notice that Max was looking a little skinnier, but it was explained as merely a repercussion of long work hours. An understanding “Ahhhh” extended from Jorge’s lips as he nodded his head. He knew about an extended work schedule, clearly, and it was something that could be excused for the most part.

”Very understandable,” Jorge replied. ”Well, as they say, don’t work too hard, now…unless, it’s for me, of course.” His patented devilish grin appeared on his lips. He wanted his employees healthy at all costs, especially when they were vital to his business arrangements.

The waitress returned and she shared another shy look with Jorge before her blush continued to redden her cheeks. Gently she set down their water glasses and a small basket of bread samples before inquiring after their orders. Max already knew what he wanted after only a glance at the menu and Jorge’s order of the Duck Confit was already well known by the owners of the establishment. Whenever he was to dine there they made sure they had everything required. Without needing to ask, the pretty waitress wrote down their orders before she turned and headed towards the back.

The shroud of privacy descended upon the duo again – exactly why Jorge liked to dine here. Of course buying out the entire restaurant for the lunch hour was bound to provide privacy wherever you were at, the atmosphere here was just far more elegant.

>> "I've barely found time to finish the restore on my 66 Chevelle. Painted ocean blue, I thought you'd approve. You really should stop by the house sometime and see."

Jorge chuckled heartily at that and nodded his head. ”Impeccable year and model, I have to say,” He lifted his glass of water and took a sip. ”I will definitely have to come by and make sure you’re giving it all the attention it needs.”

Again, all the more reason to like Max. The young man had great taste in automobiles and collectibles, much the same as Poseidon himself. He collected all sorts of vintage items, from cars to sports memorabilia. His favorite piece was a solid, Louisville slugger owned by one of the first female baseball players, Lucille Negans. It was said that her swing was solid enough to knock a man’s head clean off if she had been crazed enough to take it to that level. The baseball bat sat in a locked case in his office back at the Atlantis Club and continued to be his prized possession.

But that was not what they were here to talk about…

>> "How's the club treating you?"

Another sip of his water and he nodded. ”Exceedingly well. Clientele is up. I’m headlining a new songbird by the name of Ms. Jasmin Hare, we’re working on her stage name, but she has an appeal that packs the house.” In the name of reciprocity for the invite, Jorge returned the gesture. ”You should make time to visit. I’m sure there is something Atlantis provides to earn your attention.”

They chatted, it was the standard protocol. Jorge complimented Maxwell's car and he gave a smile. For a moment it really did feel like they were just two old friends meeting for lunch. The truth was this friendship was based on the mutual benefit they could provide each other. For Maxwell that was the only type of friendship that made any sense.

Jorge invited him to check out Atlantis and his new talent. Maxwell gave him a happy smile.

"I'd love to come see the place. It's been getting nothing but good things. I did have quite the interest in music. I'll have to come see " He replied.

He reached down and opened his briefcase. He pulled out three folders and placed them on the table off to the side.

"Standard buyers agreements. I went ahead and filled them out under a shell corporation to save you some time. The facilities are yours once you sign and anyone looking will have a hard time tracking down your ownership." Maxwell explained.

Always best to lead with the good news Maxwell had found. He glanced around the resturant to ensure they were alone and looked back.

"I have a joke for you " He said.

This was the way of lawyering. Jorge would know what it meant when the words exited Maxwell's mouth. Client privilege was something that no good lawyer would break. Hypothetical situations were always better than incriminating oneself.

"There's a drug dealer, works a big operation out of harlem. Let's call him Jake Anderson" Maxwell began, giving the man's real name.

"He gets his business busted wide open and gets arrested calls for a lawyer. The lawyer goes and let's him know at worst he will spend four months in prison then be free. Jake apparently finds prison terrifying. So he tells the lawyer he had information on a big fish in the crime world and that he wants his lawyer to talk to the DA about breaking a deal and getting into witness protection." Maxwell explained leaning forward.

Meeting Jake in prison had been a surprise. Apparently the man was ignorant of Maxwell's connection to Jorge because he spilled the beans to the lawyer rather quickly. He wanted to flip on Jorge to save his own ass. One couldn't do that.

"The lawyer, being a very good lawyer agrees and leaves" Maxwell continued smiling, "Unfortunatly Jake seemed to have found himself in an altercation with another prisoner. He got beaten and stabbed. He finds himself in St. Andrew's hospital now, security there seems pretty lax."

Arranging the attack had been easy. Maxwell had enough dirt on the right poeple to get a job done. He leaned back slightly and slid a small flash drive to Jorge. Jake had told him where he his the evidence. Maxwell simply passed it along.

"It would be a real shame of something happened to Jake and he never got out of the hospital. I hear his lawyer hasn't contacted the DA yet, and no one knew about their conversation. If something happened to him it would basically leave the big fish completely off the hook." Maxwell grinned.

Jorge enjoyed his meetings with Max. Yes, they were mainly to talk about business but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy them. The kid was actually quite amusing and his fierce intelligence was something that Jorge couldn’t help but admire. So many of those people whom he surrounded himself with were, for lack of a better term, morons. Yes they were all about mutant rights and wanting to earn money, blah, blah, blah, but the vast majority of them were simply out to be connected with one of the big fishes in New York, as opposed to getting in his way. They were smart but only in the most basic, survival sense. That was something that the businessman couldn’t respect.

But Max, well, Max was both smart and cutthroat. Jorge had rolled the dice with the kid and it had turned out to be the absolute best decision of his life. The kid was loyal, he was low maintenance, and deep down, Jorge respected him. Of course there was a mutual give and take between the two of them, Jorge provided him plenty of business and funds while Max ensured that certain elements of his life remained in the dark. It was a win-win scenario and those were the best ones to be a part of.

>> "I'd love to come see the place. It's been getting nothing but good things. I did have quite the interest in music. I'll have to come see "

”Haha, see that you do,” Jorge said with a nod. ”Make sure you tell me in advance so that I can give you the V.I.P. treatment. We have a lot of new things going on at the club, a lot of things that I’m sure will tickle your fancy.”

That devilish smile, the one that both associates and enemies knew all too well. It was a look similar to a cat having swallowed a bird. That split second before the satisfying crunch and the sensation of blood and stringy organs flowed like a crimson river down his throat. For Max’s sake it was a promise of times that the young man would never forget, for those whom he was disappointed or angry with, well, they would very much soon learn what it was like to be that very bird.

When their pleasantries were out of the way, Max started to slip into business mode. A nest of sheets were provided for him, his latest acquisition. He was purchasing more property to expand his business ventures but the buyout needed to be filtered through certain connections so that his name became lost in the shuffle. Max was a whiz at making sure they happened cleanly and neatly and it only added to the talents he appreciated from him.

With a nod of his head, he took the forms over and started to peruse through them. However he stopped when Max suddenly whispered that he had a joke. The man smiled but inside Jorge knew that it was a code for something that had nearly happened. See, Max wasn’t just there to ensure that his business venture went clean, he was also there to make sure that certain aspects of his life were kept away from the light of day.

Jorge listened, grinning from ear to ear as the young man divulged the story of an criminal who had been captured. He was going to get off easy, considering what he was caught for, but freaked out and tried to dish on his boss, the mastermind behind the operation. His lawyer, thankfully, accepts the evidence, however a very unfortunate event happened where the criminal now finds himself in a hospital, clinging onto his life. A snort followed that as a small, unassuming flash drive was being slid over to him. His hand falling over it, Jorge chuckled as he subtly pulled the drive to him.

”Haha, sounds like a hell of a lawyer. And that poor guy,” Jorge said of the criminal in the hospital. ”I’m sure that someone will send him some flowers and a card.” Again, more code. The criminal would be handled before the end of the night. The only flowers he would be getting were those placed on his grave. ”Oh well,” he shrugged innocently. ”That’s what happens when you toy with a big fish, I guess.”

Maxwell sat waiting for a reply from his story. The tension was thick for the young lawyer. He was confident he had handled the situation properly, it had seemed like the only way to resolve the issue. With Jorge however you never knew exactly how he was going to react. If Maxwell had done well Jorge would be kind, he didn't want to think about how things would turn out if he had acted in an improper manner.

Jorge chuckled and Maxwell knew he was safe, for now at least. The man answered him in code and Maxwell gave a small smile and a nod. Jorge would handle it, and once Poseidon got involved you could bet that he would complete the job with ruthless efficiency.

The waitress returned with food and Maxwell felt the weight of tension fall off his shoulders as the food arrived. Without the nagging concern that he would find himself on the receiving end of Jorges fury he could relax. He placed his napkin I'm his lap and began to cut up his food.

"I'm sure Atlantis will be more than satisfactory. It's all these social events I find myself dreading. I have to attend some set gala opening tomorrow because a client wants me there. My assistant James keeps telling me I need to find a date for these things but I find most people whom would be willing to go useful for only one thing." He said with a small laugh.

Maxwell was one the few competent employees that Jorge kept on his payroll. The kid was smart, he followed orders, but he also knew how to make decisions on his own. Anyone else in his operation would have probably ended up making the issue worse, killing the man overtly or leaving even more evidence that needed to be cleaned up. Either way, there were few people that Jorge let in close to his operations and Maxwell was one of that very limited number. He knew that if there was anyone whom he could trust, it was him.

With the news that the rat had been isolated, Jorge already began to formulate a plan for the individuals he could put on this. He had several people who could visit, several who could sneak in and end the man’s life, it was just be a matter of who could do it in the quietest way. He would give it some thought after this lunch, after all, the man was in a hospital and he wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon.

Their meals arrived, and Jorge greeted the waitress with a wide and charming smile. The man was old enough to be her father but still she blushed and nibbled on her lip as she set food down on the table. She didn’t know the dangers of the man who looked at her in a manner that simply could not be confused. At most she probably figured that he was some sort of celebrity or Forbes 100 billionaire who could afford to purchase out an entire restaurant at a whim. In the end any signs of danger that she should been feeling had been disarmed by charm and the allure of money.

How foolish…

As the duo cut into their meals, once again the man was pleased by the meal he had ordered. There was a reason that he came to this place, that he ordered their catering, and even would go so far as to purchase out the entire lunch rush – it was good. The food was always so spectacularly prepared that the man found himself unable to find anything better in this city. That alone, sadly, would be reason enough to burn it down within a couple of weeks. No one organization should be allowed to flourish above his own, especially when it wasn’t being run by mutants. So unfortunate…

Clearing his throat he took a sip of water as he looked up the Max. The young lawyer would be attending the Atlantis Club if he could get around his social engagement. He knew the pitfalls of those only too well; that and the need to have companionship for them. He smirked a bit. Maxwell could get his dates but it was clear that they didn’t afford him more than a night of pleasure.

He snorted. ”I keep telling you, you need to come to the club. Maybe…broaden your horizons a bit. Look into those individuals you wouldn’t normally look into. Because, as they say,” he grinned. ”You hunt for peacock, all you’re going to get is a peacock. There’s always fresh blood at the club. And, I’m certain that my dancers could do more than pique your interests…”

Jorge's advice made a sly grin slide across Maxwell's face. He described Atlantis like a Wonderland of debauchery and pleasure. After a moment of consideration Maxwell figured that was probably exactly what it was. Perhaps the older man had a point.

"You make an appealing argument my friend. When do you have a free evening I'll drop in then and let you give me a look. I'm sure you'll put me in capable hands to show me a good time." He said.

He continued enjoying his meal, the food was superb. It was a prime example of the difference in quality of life Jorge and he enjoyed. For most people a meal at this place would make their week, possibly there month. They would scrape and save money to afford one moment of the high life, one moment to live like the high and mighty. The perks did come with a slight downside.

"Jorge," Maxwell began thoughtfully, " Do you ever find yourself wondering if perhaps we have become desensitized to the joys of life? I mean when you have the world at your fingertips the world becomes quite a bland place. Without obstacles to overcome where is the challenge."

He took a bite of his meal.

"I think I'm suffering from a streak of boredom. Perhaps it's time for me to get my hands dirty again. I do enjoy a bit of rougish adventure " He concluded.

>> "You make an appealing argument my friend. When do you have a free evening I'll drop in then and let you give me a look. I'm sure you'll put me in capable hands to show me a good time."

Jorge nodded his head in reply. That was all he wanted for the kid, for him to go out and enjoy the finer things in life. He saw so much of himself in the younger man, eager to make his mark in the world but so distracted by the everyday business that he didn’t allow himself to have fun for more than a single night. While that was fine for some people and, at times, a necessity, for Jorge to see Maxwell do that to himself at such a young age was unfortunate.

If anything, Jorge was a firm believer that youth should be spend enjoying life; there was going to be enough boredom and business to conclude as you got older. Then again, that saying really didn’t apply to him as vice was something that Jorge dipped into regularly. However, despite those moments, he could still find do to do his work as it was needed. Jorge was one of those rare responsible adults but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss his reckless youth from time-to-time. Meanwhile, he would just have to live vicariously through certain individuals, individuals like Max.

The meal was the absolute best, of course, and Jorge enjoyed every moment of it. Of course it wasn’t an indulgence that he took part in too regularly, but when he did, it made it all the more special. Having just a day out for lunch with Max was indeed an excellent time, probably one of the few where he actually felt like Jorge Cervantes and not Jorge and Poseidon. It was almost…humanizing.

>> "Jorge…”

He looked up, catching Max’s perplexed gaze. The young man found himself wondering about whether it was possible to enjoy life too much. Fancy dinners all the time, plethora of women and men, the notion that anything could be had if it was wanted, yeah, there was some truth to that. After all, how many times can one eat the same fancy meal without succumbing to boredom? Especially when it wasn’t earned? But that was the key word – earned.

Jorge smirked as he eyed the young man taking a bite from his meal. With a sigh and went into his reply to his question.

”The difference is that people get bored when they don’t earn what they have,” he said lightly. ”Of course the well-off individual is going to get bored with the same duck confit if that is what they have been exposed to since youth. However to others, like you and me,” he gestured to the both of them. ”Who have earned their rewards…” he took another bite of his meal and smiled in satisfaction. ”…have every right to indulge.”

>> "I think I'm suffering from a streak of boredom. Perhaps it's time for me to get my hands dirty again. I do enjoy a bit of rougish adventure "

Jorge grinned. Again, that was difference between people who were bored with the finer things and those who earned them. While Jorge held a position of power in Ragnarok, he wasn’t opposed to getting his hands dirty from time-to-time; hell, often he preferred it! Interrogation, overseeing shipments, Jorge knew how to keep himself engaged in his operations and his people. Hearing the sheer lack of that engagement in Maxwell’s life immediately made him nod.

”I’m sure I can help with that,” Jorge said with a nod. ”Say the word and adventure will be your middle name…”

Jorge reassured Maxwell about his concerns with leisurely expendatures. He had a point. Maxwell might have inherited a nice sum of money when his parents passed but that hadn't made his life easy. He'd been orphaned and thrown in foster homes. He had earned his law degree at an unbelievably young age. Perhaps it was time to let himself live a little. Maxwell continued to eat as Jorge offered him assistance with his boredom.

"I'm in. I know I usually stay behind the desk but as you said, perhaps I'd like to work a bit." He said slyly.

He took the spoon that lay on the table beside him and glanced around the room. They were alone. With a small burst of power he made the spoon float an inch above his open palm, only for a moment before dropping it back into his hand.

"All this power and I never get to use it. Always having to be so careful about being seen, especially with SUPER agents out in fleets. Keeping my abilities secret is crucial to my practice, but I haven't gotten to cut loose in ages." He sighed.

He gave a broad grin.

"I guess what I'm saying is call me Maxwell Adventure Rosewood."

It may have been risky to offer Max a more…hands-on role in his operations. Truth was that Jorge liked to keep certain parts of his life separated as it was important for the structure of his life. The less that people like Maxwell were involved, the less likely that they could be targeted by other individuals seeking people to use against him. It was a tactical advantage to keep things on the down low. However Jorge could understand the need for some letting loose from time-to-time. That was especially true in this day and age thanks to organizations like S.U.P.E.R.

Jorge tilted his head as he watched the young man. He seemed to be mulling over his offer. The man already had an inkling of which direction this was going to go but of course he wasn’t going to say anything more until Maxwell himself had decided. He knew of Max’s powers and knew that there were things he could probably turn to him for that would make it far more successful than his usual goons. But would Max agree?

>> "I'm in. I know I usually stay behind the desk but as you said, perhaps I'd like to work a bit."

His smile widened. Tenting his fingers, he nodded his head towards Maxwell, pleased with the response. ”Excellent.”

Sitting back in his seat, his hunger appeased, Jorge watched as his young lawyer gave a quick demonstration of his abilities. It was something that the older man had always appreciated. He knew what it was like to have control over one of the most powerful forces of nature. To be stifled, to be unable to let loose just because of some close-minded fools in the government was just all the more tragic. Jorge shook his head at the mention of S.U.P.E.R.

”SUPER,” Jorge said with a shake of his head. ”If there is any threat to civil liberties it is them. They’re just…apes fleeing from those who know how to use…” he snapped his fingers and a glass on the table suddenly shook as the water inside lifted and began to swirl in mid-air. ”…tools.” Carefully he set the water back inside the glass, not spilling a drop. But he shot Maxwell a winning and silver-tongued smile. ”But like all those who refuse to evolve, well, they won’t have a place in the world for long…I’m sure.”

Jorge seemed enthused by Maxwell's desire to get involved. As the older man laced his fingers and grinned Maxwell felt a swelling of pride in his chest. He couldn't say exactly why he wanted a more active roll in the operation. He had plenty of money, he didn't need any more, but the thrill of jumping in was appealing. He wasn't a squeamish man, he expected he could handle what was thrown at him.

Maxwell knew Jorge hated SUPER and as the man spoke Maxwell was more than assured that he was working to take them down. He watched the display of Jorge's power and was impressed. The precision it took to control water like, unbelievable.

"I've always found your abilities quite amazing. Making tidal waves is terrifying, but I bet you could move the blood in a man's body if you wanted to, kill him from the inside out, now that's something to fear." Maxwell said.

Maxwell removed the napkin from his lap and placed it on his now empty plate. It had truly been a divine meal.

"As for SUPER they are enjoying there time on top. I like to think the world finds its own balance. They will topple soon enough whether from the outside or in. I'd just like to be standing with the one whom takes the mantle" He said.

Jorge had an extreme dislike of S.U.P.E.R., that was plain to see. It wasn’t that the man hated them for no reason, but they were a desperate move by the government in order to hold onto the control and station that they should have freely given up years ago. When mutants hit the scene, they were an evolutionary masterpiece, but like all forms of evolution, the previous species must die out in order for the superior to thrive. The problem was that the government didn’t see it that way so they formed their little team as a means of regaining a foothold. It was pathetic to say the least.

Oh if people thought that Jorge and Ragnarok were bad, S.U.P.E.R. was far worse. They took in mutants, they brainwashed them, made them work for some “greater good” that they had been force fed over and over again. It was completely criminal, their tactics, and they needed to be taken down a peg. Admittedly they were a tough nut to crack but it was still early enough that Jorge would manage to bring them down. All it was going to take was time and patience – which he had plenty of.

His mind wandered. Turning back to the conversation at hand, he had to smirk a bit when max complimented him on his abilities. Each mutant was beautiful in its own way and they each had their dangers. Jorge, admittedly, was considered one of the most dangerous. Water was everywhere on earth, even humans were made of water. To have complete control over it essentially gave the man one hell of a scary advantage.

>> ”…making tidal waves is terrifying, but I bet you could move the blood in a man's body if you wanted to, kill him from the inside out, now that's something to fear.”

He grinned. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t confirm or deny it. The look on his face was enough to show that the man indeed had practice in what Max was saying. He would summon a tidal wave in the middle of a neighborhood and he could indeed reach into the human body and move them like a puppet on strings. Oh the things he has made some people do…heh…

>> "As for SUPER they are enjoying there time on top. I like to think the world finds its own balance. They will topple soon enough whether from the outside or in. I'd just like to be standing with the one whom takes the mantle."

Jorge nodded. ”Their time will come, Max.” He sighed deeply. ”As it always is with organizations that are afraid of change, they will adapt or wither away.”

When Maxwell inquired about the extent of Jorge's power than man grinned from ear to ear. It wasn't an answer but Maxwell felt a shiver run down his spine. His mentor was not one to be crossed. Max tried to run through a number of scenarios in his brain if he were ever forced to go up against Jorge. None of them seemed to end well for the young lawyer. Jorge continued his contemplation over SUPER and Maxwell shook his head.

"Ageeed. Though somehow I don't get the adapting vibe from the group" He said with a cold laugh.

Maxwell's phone vibrated and he took it out of his pocket. He had a text from James. Apparently the paralegal he had fired before coming to lunch was waiting for him in his office. The woman had gone ballistic and was refusing to leave without confronting him. Maxwell smiled, Jorge wasn't the only one who had worker bees that seemed to be surprising him today.

Maxwell should have been bothered by his place in the organization. He always wanted to be on top, hence why he started his own firm. Being the humble cog in the machine never sat well with the man. When it came to Jorge however, a healthy respect for one's own limitations was always good.

"I should probably get back to the office soon. My assistant is going a tad crazy. HR issues," He said politely, "I'll come to Atlantis tonight after work and see if it can peak my interest as much as you say it will. As for work I'll be waiting for a call for instructions on how I could best be of service."