While the Atlantis Club was one of the most popular spots in the city, it was evident that even they had to close their doors from time-to-time. One would, of course, assume that closing the doors to such a popular establishment would be a loss of funds. However, A.) it was a loss that Atlantis could easily afford, and B.) there place was still going to be made good use of. While on the outside is boasted that the nightclub was closed for brief renovations, within there was still the pulsating, pumping sound of music and the scent of liquor and good food wafting through the air.

The Atlantis Club was still in full swing with music playing electronically from the speakers hidden throughout. The view of the marine life drifting lazily outside the windows was a beauty to behold, and made the perfect contrast to the horrors within. Though the dining floor remained suspiciously the same, there was now a very large table set up in the center of the room, elegantly decorated with all manners of silvers cutlery and porcelain plates. Champagne sat in buckets of ice, just waiting to be poured, and off to the right, sitting against the wall, far from the table, were two individuals, tied to a chair.

Gregory Chalice and his 24 year-old son, Tommy Chalice, both sat next to each other, exhausted and bloodied. The bruises shown on them proved that they had suffered beatings from at least a week ago and yet they were still here, wheezing to stay alive. For the moment they both were heavily sedated, simply drooling in a corner of the room, no one paying them any mind. They would be brought to attention soon enough but now wasn’t the time to consider such things.

Stepping from the back rooms, Jorge Cervantes, otherwise known as Poseidon to those within Ragnarok, sighed as he pulled a cigar from the silver case in his jacket. Snipping the end with a cutter, he placed one end between his lips as he casually lit the opposing end with his lighter. Snapping it closed, Jorge slipped his lighter back into his pocket as he took a long draw from his cigar and let out a cloud of toxic smoke. However the man just grinned, enjoying the flavor of it upon his tongue and the warmth it filled his lungs with.

Tonight would be fun, but it was also a night of business. He had contacted the members of his family in order to meet up and catch up with the going’s on – especially with that obnoxious group of human sympathizing do-gooders known as the X-Men. Some things needed to be said and some direction needed to be given to his people. They were poised perfectly to control this city but organizations like S.U.P.E.R. and the X-Men needed to be dealt with soon. It was time that plans were made and executed…

With a sigh, Jorge walked up to the bar when one of his most loyal bartenders was awaiting. The younger man with blonde hair and greyish eyes gave his boss a kindly smile. Without even needing to hear his order, the man started to fix him a drink. However, Jorge raised his hand and shook his head as he would be enjoying champagne at the table once the rest of the group arrived. In the meantime Jorge merely ordered a glass of water and took long sip. Instructions had been given at the front doors to only allow members of Ragnarok – anyone else would be swiftly turned away.

Another sip of his water and Jorge pulled up his wrist to check the time. They should be arriving fairly soon…

The repeated buzz of a phone woke Alice, wiped her face sleepily with her sleeve, only to discover there was no sleeve. She'd not fallen asleep in clothes. She blinked herself a little more aware, she moved a little on the sheets and felt her leg glide against another leg that wasn't hers, skin on skin. Hmmm. She blinked more and quietly sat up, glancing around slowly.

She scooped up her phone and flicked it on, taking a full glance at it and wincing at the brightness of the phone, in the dimly lit room, only shrouded in gentle red, to match the sheets that were on the bed, and the gorgeous redhead on one side of her. She smirked down at them. Must have been one hell of a night. Then again, these days they always seemed to be like that.

Hmmmm. A notification for a meeting. Well, she was already here, technically. She supposed the staff were told not to disturb the room she was in. Smart. She looked down at the two girls on the bed, and nestled between them, waiting for them to awaken for some more things to do before she attended the meeting.

A couple hours later, she arrived early, a lovely regular of the club on either arm, one with striking flame red hair, and one with lovely dark hair. She moved to the bartender and bought them drinks, inclining her head only very slightly at Poseidon before getting drinks and sitting in a corner with the lovely girls, listening to the music and leaning against one of them, in a pleased position, showing off a lot of skin around the revealing black dress she was sporting.

The bartender got her refills for her... dates? Without much in way of comment or direct eye contact with her. She liked him. Well, she tolerated him well enough and being such a regular worker around the club he'd seen the way people and members reacted to her to know not to draw too much attention. She watched and listened to the leader intently, whenever he moved around and did anything, but to the unobservant she seemed completely taken in with the lovely females surrounding her.

She idly wandered what this meeting was about, but she also was well aware that the head of the group wouldn't call something like this lightly, or without a good reason. She was curious. Very intriguing indeed.

Khalil loved nightclubs as much as the next hedonist, but something about Atlantis set his teeth on edge. It probably had something to do with the water features. Water everywhere. While some poor sod might think it was purely for aesthetic, those aware of the shady dealings beneath the modern façade knew it to be otherwise. Poseidon, with his hydrokinetic capabilities, was likely covering his *ss by building such an advantage into the fabric of his club. The pyrokinetic Khalil was decidedly less enthralled by Poseidon’s stylistic choices.

The demon was lounging on a couch in his apartment when the notification *pinged!* on his phone. Meeting today. Time to preen. Khalil closed the notification and groaned, letting his head loll back.

“Wonder if Stephanie will be there?” the words slid lazily out of his mouth, his feline eyes swiveling towards the restroom as he roused himself. Today, he had his abode to himself, which gave him the opportunity to mull over such questions. Since Ms. Grey worked on-commission for Poseidon, there were some meetings she was not present for, while others she was. Regardless of her attendance, Khalil would dress well for the meeting. He dressed in nothing less than the best. Expertly, the demon-boy wriggled out of his shirt and tossed it onto the couch, padding down the hall to get pretty for the meeting.

==============

Khalil arrived politely early, donning black slacks and dress shoes, black overcoat, grey dress shirt and maroon tie. He always wore his best, for Poseidon. His hair was tied back into a low ponytail. Here-and-there were telltale lapses in tidiness. His necktie was loose, wisps of hair strayed from the bad that restrained them. Overall, though, he looked sharp. He always did. Naturally.

Khalil came to the front doors of the club, nodding to the bouncers as he approached. His unique appearance afforded him instantly recognizable, thus the red-skinned narcissist needn’t trouble himself with removing his shades. Not for the help, anyways. The bouncers nodded, and opened the door.

“Thank you~” the demon sang, crossing the threshold.

The lowlight of the club required that he removed his shades, which were delicately folded and placed in a pocket of his overcoat. His shoes clicked sharply against the tiled floors as Khalil traversed the entry hall, and he paused to survey the main hall. His gaze first found Poseidon.

“Sir~” Khalil greeted briefly, bowing faintly at the waist. From this distance, the demon couldn’t discern whether Poseidon was amidst a cigar or drink, but either way Khalil saw fit not to interrupt him. He did, however, feel inclined to make his arrival known, and to acknowledge his boss. Naturally.

His amber gaze meandered towards the only other figures present, settling on the familiar form of Alice, and her two lovely guests. Were they allowed to bring guests? Usually Poseidon was pretty strict about these things. Maybe they were new recruits. A half-smirk quirked at the corners of Khalil’s mouth. Well, he would have to introduce himself—especially to such lovely women as those. Perhaps after they got away from Alice, though. Given how absolutely enrapt she seemed by her company, and her tendencies, Khalil elected to wait his turn.

His eyes flicked to the table, but he did not take a seat. Instead, Khalil slinked towards an appealing spot of wall, against which he leaned. He brought forth a finger-flame, and let it roll over his knuckles, as one might twirl a pencil while their mind wondered idly. He would await better company. Though the flame was only the size of a small marble, it illumed his face in the dimly lit establishment.

Below the Atlantis Club, hidden behind stored chairs and tables and all manner of extra items the club might need was a door. And behind that door was a room, or really, something compared to a dark little apartment. And on the bed in that small, dark apartment Alex slept. He was comfortable here, safe and hidden from outside view. Also, he had all the junk food he could ever ask for.

Best of all he could come and go as he please. No one was going to stop him, short of keeping him from endangering himself or someone who he shouldn't or wasn't allowed to hurt. That had happened a few times. 'Fugue state' one of Poseidon's men had remarked, but thankfully it only seemed random and temporary. The downside was that sometimes it'd leave him lost for longer than he'd like. So an agreement was made. Alex would wear a special 'collar', which really could have just been mistaken for a choker from far away, that could keep track of him if he ever wondered off without calling in.

They could have seen a doctor, possibly gotten medication. But Alex hated doctors with all the fury in his body. So the collar was a more comfortable choice, something he could keep on him at all times, just in case.

In any case, for the time being, Alex was enjoying his food coma when the call came in. He blinked lazily at the device where it buzzed on his bedside table, once, twice, then stopped. A text then, okay, better. Probably a meeting, he didn't like meetings, everyone was so judgey. And fancy. What was the point of those fancy clothes if you were just going to ruin 'em at some point?

He yawned and turned over, staring into the dark and just listening. Soft music was filtering down, the club was awake. Last night when he came back in they were closing for the night...Or was it the night before that? He couldn't remember how long he had been out, though the creak in his joints told him he had definitely been out longer than 24 hours.

Alex laid in bed longer than he should have, letting himself adjust to simply being awake, before finally getting up. He washed up and got dressed, making sure he at least smelled presentable. He wasn't one for suits and ties, all that fancy clothing just got in the way of his job and his job came at the snap of Poseidon's fingers.

So, he dressed simple, hoodie and jeans, letting his damp hair curl however it pleased for the most part. He grabbed a couple of snacks on the way out, stomach rumbling and cluing him in further on how long he had really been asleep. Yeah, longer than a day it felt like.

Alex tromped up the steps, still half awake but ready for the meeting at least. The steps emerged just behind the kitchen and as he walked through he saw the staff working away. The food always smelled so good and he was tempted to steal a bite, but he wouldn't dare, not right now anyway. He stepped out of the kitchen and saw two other Ragnarok members had beaten him here. But more importantly, Poseidon was here.

"Good evening, sir."he murmured, bowing his head respectfully to the man. Then he really took in the other two, frowning at Alice's...guests... He glanced at Poseidon, "Did she get permission to bring her friends here, sir?" Surely that wasn't allowed. They weren't members, not as far as he knew, and these things were supposed to be secret. Who knew what information Alice's little friends could spill to the outside world!

Stephanie had a particular set of skills, but on this afternoon, the one that mattered was her ability to wrangle a six-year-old who was more excited for a trip to the zoo than her lunch. Malia was sitting at the dining table looking through the guide she kept from their last trip to the zoo. ”Oh mommy, we should go see the penguins first. But we have to be there when they feed the sea lions! And we need, need, need to see all the big cats.”

Smiling warmly at her daughter, Stephanie mussed up the girl’s straight brown hair and sighed. ”Sweetie, if you don’t eat your spaghetti and at least one of those meatballs, we won’t get the chance to see anyone else get fed.”

The girl giggled and stuck her fork into the pile of noodles in her bowl, ”Fiiiine, but only if we go see the lemurs,” she couter-offered before shoving sauce-drenched pasta into her mouth.

Biiiing.

Whenever her doorbell sounded, Stephanie cringed. She had few “friends” who she was close enough to expect them to drop in unannounced. When there was someone at the door, more often than not they were associated with the friendly neighborhood mob boss.

Still, it was important Stephanie did not let on that there was a problem, at least not with Malia around. ”You drive a hard bargain, but alright,” she replied to her daughter while she walked to the door. ”Just keep eating so we can go!”

Peeking through the spyhole of her door, it looked like a messenger was standing on the other side. Taking her deep breath and praying this was not some assassin in disguise, she opened the door. ”Can I help you?”

”Yes, miss. I’m supposed to make sure these are hand delivered. It was listed as urgent,” he replied as he handed her a note in a familiar handwriting that sent a shiver down her spine.

Kitten.
Club tonight.
Kindly display the merchandise.

She felt her stomach turn. Why now? She still had time to get the Senator job done, so what was she being summoned for this time? Stephanie wondered if he just liked arbitrarily forcing her to leave her daughter for the night.

”Thank you,” she said in a distracted tone to the messenger, before she reflected on something he said originally. ”Wait, ‘these?’” One note was not a plural, which must have meant…

”Here you go, miss,” he said, handing her a package from the cart next to him before he had her sign off on the transaction and disappeared toward the elevators. Stephanie was sure, if she had just been instructed on how to present herself at the club, that the package was the dress Poseidon expected her to “display the merchandise” in.

She would open it later when she was calling her babysitter, but for now, she would postpone hating herself so she could spend the afternoon with her daughter at the Bronx Zoo.

---

If the goal was to “display the merchandise,” then the little black dress picked out on Stephanie’s behalf certainly hit the mark. Stephanie was blessed with long legs, but they felt longer with the dress cut two-thirds up her thigh. She was honestly concerned with how she would sit without exposing herself further, and that was not even touching upon the plunging neckline maximizing exposed skin on the opposite front. Still, Stephanie walked confidently into the club in her matching heels, looking to keep her composure for what the night held in store for her.

Upon entering, it was clear this was not a typical night at the club. The building was almost empty, and with how popular The Atlantis Club was, this could only be intentional. Stephanie walked toward the bar, glancing around at those who were already present, realizing she was in the company of the other, more willing members of Ragnarok.

”Gluttony,” she greeted Alex curtly, nodding in his direction. This was clearly a “work function,” and she was not there to make friends, so she blatantly used codenames when she could. ”Hel.” She did not bother greeting the women Alice came with; Stephanie was sure she would not be seeing them again.

Passing by the last of the minions, her cold features might have warmed a little at the red young man. ”Khalil.” She did not use his codename, not only because she found it stupid, but because of all Poseidon’s underlings, he was the most agreeable. He was not a “good person,” to be clear, but he was sweet on Stephanie, and not shy about trying to put his best foot forward. It was almost a shame, since Stephanie would never get involved with someone in Ragnarok, but the narcissist was endearing in his own way.

She ordered an amaretto sour from the only bartender trusted by the big boss, before turning around and finding herself near the man himself. She bowed her head respectfully. ”Sir.” She just had to get through the night. It was the same mantra that ran through her head every time she made the trip.

Stephanie was walking toward the table set up for them when she noticed two unexpected guests. The men were unfamiliar, but given their condition, she knew they were there for a reason. Guests of “honor,” perhaps? Entertainment? She would have to be careful with her drinking; she was a thief among murderers, and they might find it rude if she heaved at the disgusting violence that was so commonplace in Ragnarok.

The persistent bell tone told her she had an unread message. It repeated itself every few minutes, until she finally dragged herself off the couch and found it where it was wedged under a plate from the evening before’s dinner on the floor. She eyed it blearily. A meeting. She shut it. Then opened it again. At what time? Sh**. She kicked at the piles of clothes as she searched for something respectable enough to wear. These things were always so damn fancy. The call tone sounded on speaker as she dug through, finally finding the items she was looking for; black leather shorts, a sheer black mesh over shirt with embroidered flowers, and the under corset. It was risqué enough that she didn’t feel like a cz dressed up as a diamond. She knew what she was, and what she was good for. It was why she had this job at all.

The baby sitter answered after a few more rings as Zed was smudging heavy makeup onto her eyes. Confusion abounded as it was neither a regular day or time. But after a few repeats of the phrase “you want the money or not?” the girl was on her way. Zed made the effort to pull back the tarp and check in on Peony, fast asleep, before yanking on her combat boots and heading out the door. She met the sitter on the stairs and handed over keys before heading out to hail a cab.

She dragged on lipstick in the taxi, and her look was complete. It wasn’t a long ride, but she wasn’t exactly early. She slid from the cab and across the street despite the cabby’s insistence that the bar was closed, that he had brought five people here already and had to take them away.

A light jacket was draped across the crook of her arm as she flashed what passed for ID to the doormen. If this meeting was invite only, what better proof than the invite. She held the phone up to the nearest bouncer with a smirk.

“The VIP section, lads.”

It was all VIP section on a night like tonight. But that didn’t stop her from enjoying saying it.

The club was gloriously accepting of smoking, and she had a cigarette in her hand before you could say ‘no lighter’. She patted herself down, cursing slightly, there was nary a nook nor a cranny in this outfit that could have concealed a lighter. Glancing around the room she made a bee-line for the man with fire fingers.

“Got a light?”

Saying no at this stage would just be rude. It wasn’t nice to be rude in such a place when everyone was just so fancy. Barring that she could see that bigboss had a cigar, though she would be sure to try for Hel in the first instance.

Jorge knew when and how to expect his crew. The members of Ragnarok were varied but the one thing he knew he could count on was their ability to show up when summoned, even those that were only begrudgingly apart of the organization. It may have been folly to summoned an individual like Stephanie Graves here, but Jorge had his reasons; everyone gathered knew better than to question any of that. So the man continued to sit in silence, greeting the members of his organization as they filtered in from various entrances.

Hel was the first to arrive, accompanied by a pair of lovely ladies from one of Ragnarok sleeping quarters. He knew the woman had a voracious appetite, it was one of those things the man had gotten used to the more he worked with her. He allowed her the use of the backrooms but for meetings like this, she would have to say goodbye to her little friends for the time being, once things got started. In the meantime, he allowed the young woman to tease and play with her conquests under the gaze of everyone to stepped into the room. Speaking of…

Turning away, Jorge glanced towards the doors as the red-skinned devil sauntered down the steps. Hothead, as he was known in these circles, was a bit of an anarchist. He didn’t care for authority figures and did whatever he could to set the world aflame. The only place he seemed to have any sort of patience or respect for was this establishment and the man who ran it.

>> “Sir~

Jorge nodded to him, lifting his glass of water in salute to him. The kid was a useful asset, but he could be difficult to control outside of these four walls. Still, surrounded by water and with Jorge’s master over the element, the kid at least fell into line quickly enough.

The sight of casual attire pulled his attention to the backdoors leading to the Ragnarok facilities. From there the shabbily dressed Gluttony appeared, peering about suspiciously before he made a beeline for Jorge. The mob boss knew the kid well enough, he had appeared on his doorstep, an escapee from a S.U.P.E.R. facility looking for sanctuary. Of course Jorge offered him room and board…especially when he saw what the kid could do. His talents were enough for the watermancer to forgive his more formal lack of attire.

Gluttony eyed Hel in her corner, nuzzling her ladies. The suspicion in him was obvious on his face as he crept closer to Jorge and muttered in distaste.

>> "Good evening, sir… Did she get permission to bring her friends here, sir?"

Jorge smirked. The kid was loyal to a fault. He reached over and squeezed the kid’s shoulder. ”Relax. She has permission for the time being. However, once we begin, they will be excused…forcefully if need be.” Gestured to the bartender. ”Get the kid a drink. Something to wake him up.”

As the man took a long drag from his cigar, he blew out a bellow of smoke towards the stairway leading from the entrance. From there he could already see the curvaceous silhouette of a woman woman descending into the club. For her it must have been comparable to climbing the steps into Hell, but for Jorge it was just a reminder of the power he held over another.

Stephanie was a vision. She wore the dress that he had sent along to her, one that showed plenty of leg and was cut low in the chest. It took only the bravest of souls to wear such a thing but for Stephanie Graves, otherwise known as Silhouette, she didn’t have the luxury of a choice. She did whatever he had commanded and for this evening he wanted her to look her best. Of course this wasn’t for any particular reason. There would be no lending her out to other individuals for the evening and no seduction was required on her part; she was merely dressed like this because he wanted her to be.

As she came down, she nodded and greeted the other members of the group before stopping in front of him. She plastered on that faux-smile with as much courage as he knew she could muster. He grinned as he let his eyes wander over her form, unashamedly and without care.

>> ”Sir.”

He greeted her with a smile and a nod and watched the entire way as she made her way to the table that was set up for the evening. With Silhouette’s arrive, Jorge knew that there was only one other person that they were waiting for…

The clip of heels on the stairway drew his gaze for a final time towards the entrance. He knew the dark-skinned woman the second he caught sight of her…Zed. Another member of the group, yet another in a list of those complicated individuals whom found their way at his doorstep. She was particularly useful, so long as the money was good. It was a mentality that Jorge more than respected.

As she busied herself with Khalil, Jorge sighed as he took one last sip of his water, patted Alex on the shoulder and slid off of his seat. It was time to get this business started. Standing to his impressive height, the demigod pulled his cigar from his lips as he made his way over to Hel, grinned at her and her ladies for the evening.

”Hel, thank you for prompt appearance,” he said sweetly. ”Though it would bode well for your two friends that they vacant for the time being. We will be discussing some sensitive matters, after all.”

He didn’t wait for a response, he turned around and grinned wide and proud toward the gathered troops. Whatever conversations they had been having with one another, he interrupted with a clearing of his throat.

”Ladies and gentlemen, welcome welcome. Thank you all for arriving on time.” He gestured to the table that was beginning to be laid out with food thanks to several waiters who appeared from the kitchens. ”As you all can see, I have quite the spread laid out for us. So everyone, please gather…” He stopped behind Stephanie who was already seated at the table. He didn’t address her, but rather just placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a tight squeeze to help work out the tension he felt there. ”…and let us all catch up. I would like to know what you all have been doing. Just a general report on your dealings out in the world, in the name of Ragnarok, and so forth.”

Saying nothing to the woman whose shoulders he just rubbed, the man stepped away and took a seat at the head of the table. He smiled kindly to them all, waiting for them to take their seats. He was eager to learn how they had all progressed since their last meeting.

Hel sized up the other people as they entered, though she didn't seem to be doing much outwardly other than messing around with her dates in the booth she'd claimed for them. Thought she didn't make much outward announcement of it, Poseidon likely knew that she was hanging on his every word. He was the most interesting male she'd ever met, he had power and knew how to use it. And he rarely abused it in stupid ways, or in anything akin to a display of dominance.

Not around her, at any rate. And with that lack of acknowledgement another entered the room. She'd seen him around before. He wasn't exactly subtle. He didn't seem to know that Alice wouldn't blink twice before disposing of him if it called for it. But Jorge didn't seem to care too much about his presence, so she'd let his callous attitude slide for now. Taking pleasure in the mental image of his demonic appearance with even more red than normal.

She jarred slightly out of her daydream as somebody else commented directly on her, to the boss no less. She took active notice of him. It was a kid that she'd seen around before, but he wasn't somebody she payed too much attention to one way or another. He seemed to be fairly loyal to the boss himself, and was brown nosing more than anything else. One of the annoying things about being a part of the organisation was that she'd had to learn some restraint. Normally she'd just go for him. But that would be improper right now.

Her head turned quite an amount when Stephanie walked in. She smirked at the address of her code name, giving the other woman a pleasurable smile. Of course she'd not told anybody in this room her first name, other than the boss himself. Even the woman on her arms were unaware of it.

She took note of Zed when she came in. And nodded in her direction, simple and businesslike.

Whispering something in her date's ears elicited a bit of laughter from both of them, leading to them to take off just before Jorge asked them to leave, they were gathering their things and setting off. She rose and moved over to the table taking a seat near the head of the table, facing Stephanie but not making much in the way of contact, instead looking above her to Jorge with a large smile blossoming on her lips, with a show of teeth.

She cleared her throat after he'd spoken, waiting until he'd been seated to speak. "Well other than the clean up you'd asked me to do, taking out the trash and all that. Not too much, I assisted Zed on a job recently which went fairly smoothly." She added simply. "So nothing much to report unless you're taking a sudden interest in my personal life, or have something new and exciting for me to pounce~" She added.

Khalil watched with his lazy cat eyes as other members made their appearance. He couldn't remember the newest boy's name, but Khalil did know he was ex-SUPER. Had this grunge thing going with his appearance, of which the demon was uncertain whether the style was intentional, or if he was actually just a slob. He chirped something about Hel's sidechicks, and Khalil stifled a chuckle. It'd be interesting to see if the new guy could provoke the she-bear into aciton.

Then, the door to the club opened, in the distance-- the click of heels resounded. That meant it was either Zed or Stephanie. The demon perked noticeably. It was Stephanie! And damn, she looked... absolutely stunning. Probably the boss man's work. But daaaaaaamn. Regardless, Khalil was deeply appreciative. He appraised the older woman with his eyes. The thirst was apparent, but lest he want to incur Poseidon's wrath, he didn't act on it. Stephanie greeted each member present thus far. To Khalil's chagrin, she didn't use Gluttony's real name. Guess he had to wait a little longer to see.

>> ”Khalil.”

"Ms. Grey," Khalil sighed. Good, she hadn't used his ridiculous code-name. It was impossible to not hear Stephanie say his name and swoon just a little bit. She was radiant. Khalil followed her with his eyes, his gaze lingering a few moments before meandering away once again.

The door opened and shut a final time, and this time Zed came-in. The short-haired woman spied the demon boy and closed-in on him.

>> “Got a light?”

"Darling, you know I do," Khalil purred, procuring a flame above his index finger and tilting it towards Zed. His cat eyes danced over her. He wanted to make some offhanded comment about the ill effects of smoking, but Zed (like a majority of the Ragnarok women) didn't take kindly to Khalil's humor.

Poseidon spared Khalil the pain of having to keep his humor to himself by summoning the group to the table. He progressed quickly through the formalities, during which Khalil made his way to the table. He chose a place at the far end of the table, on the corner diagonally across from Hel and beside Stephanie. He liked to needle her during meetings, sometimes, and luck favored being as far as possible from her. Of course, the location made it more difficult to steal glances at Stephanie, but that was all part of the strategy.

Hel gave a small "ahem", signifying that she would go first, and Khalil watched her through his lashes, donning a droll look. She'd did what she'd been told, helped Zed... and, for added snark, she even made a quip about her "personal life". Khalil quirked a wry smirk, unable to stop the rebuttal that escaped him.

"The endeavors you pursue in your personal life are indeed a mystery to us all, Hel," he said, his tone simultaneously droll and amused. Her personal life was a mystery indeed-- it wasn't as though she'd brought a piece of her personal life in on each arm, to a business meeting no less! And what sexy piecess of Hel's personal life they'd been, too. It was a pity Poseidon had made them leave. Khalil cast a winsome smirk Hel's way which, knowing Hel, would not be well-recieved. Just as he liked it.

"Poseidon, sir, I can report success in my assignments as well," Khalil said brightly, looking towards the boss-man, "I have taken care of the syndicates that previously threatened our own business ventures-- finding their livelihoods in flames, our rivals have chosen different, less incendiary fields of business. My handiwork can be seen on various news-bytes from across the previous month."

Alex frowned at Jorge's reaction to his question but didn't complain further. He had to trust that Jorge knew what he was doing. It didn't quell the unease he felt in his gut, but at least the bartender was nice enough to get him some coffee from the kitchen per Jorge's request. He didn't drink alcohol, his already broken mind didn't take it well and the taste left quite a bit to be desired. At least in his short experience with the drink. He wasn't going to try again.

A few more people filtered in. Stephanie, then Zed. The first at least acknowledged him but the second made her way directly to Khalil, the fire devil whom he hadn't really gotten to know. Honestly, he hadn't really talked to anybody here. They all did separate missions and lived separate lives under Jorge's command, so he could only assume they were just as loyal as he was. Well, maybe not Alice. He didn't trust her, or at least didn't trust her judgement, given she brought in what could be a possible leak to the whole operation.

With everybody here, and Alice's friends out the door, Jorge started the meeting, bidding them to sit at the table and report their work. Alex didn't need much more prompting, the food at the table was enough. Hot cup of coffee in hand, he made his way over to the table, sitting near the head of the table where he assumed Jorge would sit.

He let the others go first, serving himself some food while he waited for an opportunity to report his own status. It was interesting, hearing them talk so casually about what was certainly murder and arson. Poseidon had a lot of enemies and obstacles and it was their job to clear the path. With both Alice and Khalil done with their reports, Alex spoke up.

"The man who refused to sign your paperwork a few weeks ago has changed his mind, it didn't take much persuasion after we threatened his children. We left the folder on your desk, though you've probably already seen it by now. The other man you tasked us with was more...stubborn and we took the option to eliminate him. There was a small hiccup with that one sir, and we apologize, but we couldn't remove the entire body...two of the fingers were lost. The dogs must have tossed them somewhere when they were torturing him."he reported, looking a little nervous to have messed up, even in the slightest.

Stephanie was not thankful for much that night, but at least she could take a moment to appreciate Jorge making no immediate comments when she greeted him. He smiled and he nodded, confirming that she had done her part well by attending, paying respects, and dressing “appropriately.” The dress barely registered as a problem to Stephanie. She felt comfortable putting herself on display when necessary, and it rarely mattered how she dressed when she visited Atlantis; the way her boss looked at her made her feel naked regardless of attire.

Only one more guest arrived; a woman Stephanie barely knew called “Zed.” The woman gravitated toward Khalil, which was fine to a thief who was not there to socialize and make friends. Stephanie had been summoned, and would do as she was told and not a thing beyond that.

The group was not kept waiting long, as their host dismissed Hel’s guests and called for his minions to gather together at his table. As he spoke, waitstaff came out, placing down the culinary offerings for the night, all of which smelled delicious but not the least bit appetizing to Stephanie. Her lack of appetite only grew more prominent when she felt strong hands squeezing her shoulders from behind. What she would not do to slip into her shadowform and spill from his grasp like oil.

All Jorge was looking for was a report in from his underlings, making this a business dinner. Hel recounted her recent endeavors, but it was still unsettling to hear how excited she was at the prospect of being given a target. Some people liked their jobs, and some people liked their jobs most when they got messy. Hel fell in the latter camp.

Khalil remarked on the resident hedonist’s “personal endeavors,” and as much as Stephanie was hoping to keep an icy expression of indifference through dinner, it was hard not to crack a smile. The charming devil also had a zest for his job, and a vanity that was apparent while he was praising himself. One would have thought he was talking about a recently completed masterpiece, and in the eyes of the arsonist, they were right.

Hel was vague and Khalil reported on dealings with a corporate or criminal “syndicate,” but it was Gluttony that made Stephanie uneasy. He always did, in the way he spoke in such a mundane tone about murder, torture, and of course, threatening children. That particular method was always going to sit poorly with her, but it was effective, and she was proof. ”Oh, how proud you must make him,” she muttered while taking a sip from her amaretto sour, preparing for her turn.

Stephanie was not particularly excited to make her report. It felt unnecessary to account for her tasks when she more often than not gave her reports directly to Jorge. Then again, she was not there because it was “necessary;” she was there because she was told to be. ”My most recent completed task involved… ‘unburdening’ several CEOs of their offshore account information. Prior to that, I stole a piece from the Museum of Modern Art for Poseidon’s personal collection.” She listed the two recent jobs like an errand girl running down her checklist.

Unfortunately, not all her checkboxes were checked yet. ”As for my current task… I have been gathering information on a certain Senator’s routine, and casing… my target.” Silhouette wanted to keep her description procedural. It was easier to talk about when she called the woman she was supposed to kill “her target,” like a diamond she was supposed to steal, rather than a life to end. ”I am working out my approach, and the… job will be taken care of soon, sir.”

Stephanie was still hesitant to go through with what she was assigned, but she knew the choice was never really in her hands. She would kill the senator’s mistress; it was just important to make clear to Poseidon that she was not postponing the task.