The government still hadn’t realized the liability that this thing was. The ability to hop dimensions, to wander too and fro from places where you didn’t exist, or rather, a version of you that wasn’t actually you existed. To be able to travel into this strange, and yet familiar land, to walk the streets without fight of reprisal (in most cases), to see an entire land of untapped potential, truly officials didn’t know what they were doing when they had decided to leave this bridge to freedom practically unguarded. It was ridiculous, to say the least.

The trip had been easy. When Jorge had finally made the decision to cross, he found that officials had only managed to put up a small barricade with local police officers working in shifts. In all honesty the army or even the National Guard would have been better to send out and guard but Jorge wasn’t going to drop a comment in the suggestion box. Anything to make his life easier, he approved of.

The guards were simple enough to manage, a flick of hard water their way and they were easily knocked out. It was a simply matter of sticking to the shadows and not hesitating when it came to the portal. Jorge didn’t fear what was on the other side as most of his troops had been reporting back minimal problems with the other world. With that in mind, Jorge made the step without pause.

Really one would have expected it to be something more dramatic. But aside from a flash of light and a sense of weightlessness (maybe a small moment of suffocation), Jorge stepped through the doorway within the release of a breath. Standing on the concrete, Jorge sucked in a shaky breath as he slowly straightened up. A quiver ran through his muscles, one that was easily shaken off – good thing too as the police on this side were also the ones manning the gate. Before being spotted, the watermancer quickly collapsed into a small puddle of water, scooped up his clothing and sloshed away, unseen, to where he could reform without being noticed.

---

Jorge had spent the last hour traveling around the city of New York on his own. Duke and River tried to fight him vehemently on his plan, but he had been insistent to make the trip by himself. He wanted to experience this New York, to walk its streets, to see what he could see, smell what he could smell. Even for how important a man he was, Jorge always made it a point to get down in the trenches with his own soldiers. That was the only way to garner true respect; fear was one thing, but loyalty was the golden apple that Jorge sought from his men.

As he strolled the city, sampled its food, met its citizens, and spent his money, he found himself surprised by the subtle differences here. For example, this New York didn’t seem to carry Red Apple brand cigarettes, not that he smoked the vile things, but Duke was always in need of a pack. Still, there were some things that were the same, such as his favorite back of Trident mints. Hrm, he was going to have to have River cross one day and compile a list of differences for him to keep in mind.

Though Jorge was enjoying his time sight-seeing there actually was another reason as to why he was here. Several weeks ago, there was an incident with a botched assassination that Jorge had called in. Strange occurrences and missed connections thrust the kingpin together with a comrade on the other side of the dimensional wall. The pair of them had managed to work out their differences, of course, money was paid and the job was a rousing success. All that capped with a warning – someone in his organization was a mole.

The hitman could have easily just let that go, never brought it to Jorge’s attention. But thankfully the man had, otherwise more information concerning the Syndicate would have leaked; it was a problem was quickly fixed. Not one to let a good deed go unthanked, Jorge decided to work this little greeting into his trip. After all, what was one little side quest to a swanky sounding hotel to meet a man that had saved him his organization?

The Continental was an impressive seeming hotel. It looked four or five star, but the odd thing was that there didn’t seem to be a bevy of the social elite hanging around its doors. Normally these places were crawling with celebrities and their minions but this strangely didn’t seem to be the case. Nonplussed by this, Jorge entered the establishment, taking note of the elegant surroundings. As he approached the front desk, dressed in his midnight blue suit and matching tie, the man smiled charmingly as he approached the front desk.

A receptionist, a pluck young woman smiled brightly at him. “Welcome to the Continental. How may I assist?”

Jorge cleared his throat, giving her just a sweet a grin. ”Yes. I’m inquiring after…Bengaal.”

Unfazed, the receptionist nodded as turned away. “Of course, sir. One moment.”

The receptionist turned inquired of the computer. She turned to the guest.

"Sir a guest left a message inviting you to join him for drinks in the library at your convenience. Stephen will show you the way if you are ready."

Moving through the hotel an observant person might notice the staff leading the guest through the hotel was much more than what one would expect in a 5 star hotel. They way Stephen smoothly took in everything at a glance, maintained a relaxed vigilance that missed nothing. He also appeared extremely fit for his age. Stephen was in fact former military police. The clientele that they passed by might also give the observant man food for thought. Oh there were the rich and elite there, the sheikhs, the princes from the Jordan region, the bankers, the faceless movers and shakers of the finance and political sector here and there, but there was also another category, two in fact. One was of people similar to Stephen. Young, 30-40s and upwards, relaxed but alert, obvious situational awareness if you knew how to look for the signs, very fit and healthy, by appearance, dress and posture unlikely to be able to afford such an establishment. Those were the mercenaries, the hired guns. Those hired to either attack, extract or protect objects/people/items.

Then there were the other kind, the kind that did not scream rich and influential nor did they shout trained killer. These looked harmless enough, and like the previous category did not look rich enough to be able to afford such accommodations. These were the assassins, most of whom could probably kill you fifteen different ways in as many seconds with something as simple as a hair pin.

Stephen dutifully lead his charge to the library and returned to his work. The library was a subtle elegant affair. Book lined shelves around the room. The high ceiling afforded tall windows giving the room a bright inviting feel. A fire blazed in the fireplace, there were armchairs in the corners of the room and in the center stood a table of polished wood with chairs surrounding it, on the table was an expensive bottle of whisky and two crystal glasses. Hades rose as He entered. "Bengaal I presume? Please" He gestured for his guest to join him at the table. "Help yourself" Said Hades indicating the drink.

Of the man he knew little, "Bengaal" ran a tight organization in the alternate Universe. Something that Hades could respect. The man was also generous and fair, also something Hades could respect but he knew little else. How his guest treated a 50 year blended bourbon would tell him if he has refinement or not. Until he knew more he would play his cards close to his chest. Hence no indication that he owned the hotel in which they were currently residing. He merely implied that he was a long standing guest.

It was safe to say that there was just something a little different about this place. As Jorge waited for the receptionist to continue looking up his contact, the man took a moment to turn and survey the rest of the room. In all honesty, it was the picture of opulence and he expected a 5-star hotel to possess. And yet, being an observant man, he couldn’t help but notice that there was something odd about it. Something in the air that put him at alert. Oh, it wasn’t his Arachno-Sense tingling in the face of danger, but in actuality was just a gut feeling telling him to remain alert.

When the receptionist had turned back to him, informing him that a guest was actually waiting for him in the library, Jorge tilted his head appreciatively towards the woman, before he then turned to face the newcomer, Stephen. A glance was all the older man needed to catch several things that stood out about him. He was older, but he was clean cut, he moved smoothly but ever vigilant. If Jorge had to guess, he would surmise that he was ex-military, but what was he doing working in a hotel?

The question danced around Jorge’s head as he respectfully followed the man, his gaze shifting to the various people who were littered throughout the hotel. The majority of them looked to be of the standard fair, the rich and powerful, but there were others who decidedly didn’t seem to belong – at least at first glance. Some were much like Mr. Stephen here, others were decidedly different. The only common factor was that they were all here and that piqued his interest the most.

Why kind of hotel was this?

Once they had arrived at the library, Jorge nodded his head to Stephan, thanking him for his time and slowly wandered in. Much like the rest of the hotel, it was soaked in finery and elegance. He had seen libraries much like this before and the man had always appreciated them. His hand drifted across the back of a leather couch, enjoying the smoothness of it, until he approaching one chair in particular where a man was already sitting.

He stood and the both of them took a second to appraise the other. While Jorge was older, the other was actually a bit younger than he had expected (appearance wise). Despite that, knowing what the man was capable of, Jorge made no note of it. Instead, he merely greeted the man with a polite smile.

>> "Bengaal I presume? Please…Help yourself"

”Thank you,” Jorge said as he stepped over to the table, pouring him a small glass of the rich looking drink. ”This looks quite smooth. Excellent choice.” Carefully he seated himself in his seat, lifting the glass up where he sniffed it once, swirled the contents, then sniffed again. Impressed, he took a small sip of the drink, letting the contents coat his tongue so he could pick up the flavors before he swallow. Again. Impressed. He lifted the glass to the man. ”To your good health. And please, where are my manners?” he set the glass down as he reached over to shake the man’s hand. ”The name’s Poseidon. And I owe you a most sincere “thank you” for your services.”

"Bengaal" wandered in. It was nice to put a face to the name of his mysterious yet generous client. Any client that had shown himself to be honorable earned many points in Hades ledger. Bengaal looked to be in his mid forties, but still in good shape. Hades would wager that he knew how to handle himself in a fight. He was polite and well mannered, and he knew how to enjoy at least some of the finer things of life, another plus.

"To your good health..."

Hades raised his glass in response, "And to yours."

>”The name’s Poseidon. And I owe you a most sincere “thank you” for your services.”

Poseidon's handshake was strong but firm. One man to another, one who was secure in himself.

"A pleasure Poseidon, I am Hades." The irony was not lost on Hades, they only needed a Zeus to complete the picture.

"You are most welcome, you were most generous in your compensation. I do not think that even in our wildest dreams would we envision more than one world existing."

That was also true, Poseidon had paid him one and a half times the price for what end up being two hits, but he had done so of his own volition. He had requested one man to be killed, contractually, it would be on Hades to ensure that he had the right man in his sights. Legally Poseidon did not have to pay him a single cent over the initial price, but he had. It was an action that gave honor, a thing highly valued in Hades books, as well as generosity, something never taken for granted in a client. Speaking of which.

"So, what do you think of the hotel Continental?" Hades made a small gesture with the hand that still held the cut crystal glass that indicated the entire property. His tone expressed admiration for the hotel, and what it stood for. One guest expressing appreciation to another.

"May I ask what brings you to here? In all the years in my profession, rarely have I had a client travel so far."

That sentence could have come of as a cocky attitude, coming from one who looked not a hair over 25, but it was said with no hint of pride only matter of fact. The observant man only had to look into Hades eyes to see that they were old, that they were the eyes of one who has lived long and seen much. Hades was interested. Was it another job? Mole hunting perhaps? No, that was an internal affair, and Poseidon ran a tight ship, a good ship but a tight ship. An organization like that most likely would prefer to conduct its own house cleaning, and it would do so ruthlessly and without mercy. So most likely another job then. 

Perhaps it would be more than just "Go here, kill him/her" or "Steal this from this highly secure place" or "Rescue this person from here and bring them there". Those were all well and good, but they did not necessarily pose much of a challenge to Hades. He remembered working with the Kabal, they had invaded a country! Taken over its government and run the place for while. That was a challenge. Or with Ragnarok, running espionage missions abroad, coaxing international politics and events and the mood of the general populace to support their plans. That was exhilarating. Not many people tended to think on that scale any more. Not that Hades would ever let on. He was too professional for that. He was most definitely an "old hand". And he was running into some difficulties on a personal project of his, one that involved breaking a mutant child smuggling ring. He could do with a distraction for a while.

Hades could not recall the last time a client had traveled so far to meet after a job was complete. The man had literally crossed to a different universe. Hades had made the crossing, but then he was Hades, If he could not cross a border blindfolded with his head in a paper bag, he might as well retire. This man was clearly not an assassin, nor a mercenary so the crossing would have taken planning and resources, so why?

>> "A pleasure Poseidon, I am Hades."

…Heh. There was something amusing in that, a thought that popped into his head as Jorge shook the man’s hand. Of course the two of them were clearly simply using pseudonyms, as they were clearly not on a first name basis yet. Or, hell, maybe that was the other man’s real name, he wasn’t going to judge. There was a lot he didn’t know about this universe yet and it could be very possible that “Hades” was as commonly used as “John” or “Mary”. He guessed those were nuances that he would find out with time.

Shaking hands with the individual, and again thanking him for his services, Jorge casually sat back in his sea, one leg crossed over the other as he sat in relaxed comfort. In an unknown situation, one would be expected to act fearful or on edge, but Jorge was neither of those things. He carried with him the air of someone who simply wasn’t afraid. It was confidence that could either make him seem foolish – or extremely dangerous in his own right.

>>"You are most welcome, you were most generous in your compensation. I do not think that even in our wildest dreams would we envision more than one world existing."

”Oh, I am in one-hundred percent agreement,” he said as he took a sip of his drink. ”The whole situation seems better suited for science fiction pulp novellas rather than reality.” Another sip and he casually shrugged his shoulders. ”But, it seems, here we are.”

He took another glance around the establishment. It really was very well put together, and seemed…old, or at least had an old fashioned touch to it. This was a place that Jorge could truly appreciate and made him wonder about the individual who managed to piece it all together. But those were thoughts for another time as he had a different matter that he was here to discuss.

>>"So, what do you think of the hotel Continental?"

Or maybe not. He smirked as he took another careful look at the hotel around him. ”Beautiful,” he said softly. ”Whomever owns it really has excellent taste. Utterly classic.” he said as he turned back to the younger man.

He was interesting, to say the least. There was something about him that Jorge simply couldn’t put his finger on. The way he carried himself possessed a classic quality, his mannerisms, even the look in his eyes seemed to carry more years than what was on his face. Again…intriguing…

>>"May I ask what brings you to here? In all the years in my profession, rarely have I had a client travel so far."

A soft snort fell from his lips. That was putting it mildly. While it was merely a trip across town, the fact that dimensions had been crossed had been enough to paint the entire situation in an utterly different light. This was clearly an unprecedented case, but given the circumstances, it felt more than justifiable. So, with a dip of his head, he smirked and watched the man closely.

”Well, you see I do believe firmly in given thanks where it is due,” he said gently. ”Despite the fact that, yes, I did pay more money than we had originally agreed for the job you did, that extra bit of information you provided turned out to be extremely helpful. Therefore, that, in turn, most definitely required a face-to-face thanks.” He paused to sip his drink. ”Additionally, natural curiosity brought me here. I have to say, this world has been…englightening…”

>"...classic"

The lord of the sea could thing what he wanted about Hades relation to the hotel. If he picked up anything at all, well bonus points for him.

>"...enlightening"

Hades absorbed the words and their potential meanings, multiple layers of them.

"Regarding the hotel, I will tell you as it was once told me." 

He paused and sipped his drink, savoring the explosion of flavor, as well as the multilayered aftertaste. Swallowing reluctantly, he continued.

"The hotel Continental is one of two, perhaps three neutral grounds that exist in this world for those of ..." he paused searching for the right word. "Chthonic persuasion, if I were to put it slightly dramatically. Lamsters are barred, officially, so as to preserve discretion. The second oldest Neutral Ground is in Iceland, part of the reason why Icelandic air is doing so well. The oldest is in what was once known as Transylvania, started by the immortal who is the source of the original draculuan legends, although he has not been seen for some decades. Still what are mere decades to an immortal like that."

Hades paused to observe Poseidon's reaction. With over two millennia of experience Hades was generally very adept at reading even the slightest of expressions. Still all assumptions went out the window when one was talking about multiple universes.

"These neutral grounds have a few things in common, a concierge who can obtain almost anything speedily at a price, excellent service and privacy and are generally frequented by only four types of people. The....civilians" a hard to decipher expression passed across Hades face. They were like lambs, fat and unaware, good camouflage, needy and in some ways a necessary evil. "Clients such as yourself," Hades gestured at the man opposite with his glass. "Hitmen or mercenaries and finally assassins." Hades raised his glass at the last category, as if to self identify. "They are also excellent places to negotiate contracts and recruit manpower."

Hades did not lecture. He was merely giving away freely to a very generous client some rather valuable information. Information that would no come easily or cheaply otherwise. Those who frequented neutral grounds knew well the consequences of speaking up about them. Neutral grounds were like cleaning houses for underworld contracts. Want a job from a reliable client that pays equal to the risk, find a neutral ground. Being barred from a Neutral ground meant taking a chance with random clients, not to mention the often lethal consequences of falling out with one of the three.

Hades pondered Poseidon, there was more to him then he let on, Hades would wager much more. The man gave the impression of being much like an onion, composed of many layers and prone to cause irritation if one attemptred to pry too deeply. Thus Hades would not pry, he would leave openings and see waht Mr Poseidon was willing to offer up.

Silence fell on the room. A comfortable silence, of two men fully sure of them selves and content with silence, happy not to fill the air with words. After a pause Hades spoke.

"Perhaps I am being presumptuous, but you strike me as a man of business. I can understand the draw to see and experience a new universe, I can also understand the desire to express gratitude personally, but I  cannot help but wonder if there are yet further, more compelling reasons for crossing time and space to visit this universe."

The invitation was there. Hades was in a good mood. He was enjoying a fine drink with one who appreciated such and displayed a level of class and sophistication and manners not frequently found in mortals. Hmmm that was a though, was the lord of the sea also an immortal? 

Truly this was a strange and yet interesting circumstance. Had Jorge been less in the know, had he not been experiencing it himself, he would have surmised that it was some publicity stunt put on by the city, a War of the Worlds-esque dramedy in order to fool the masses. However, here he was, in another dimension, sitting with a man who was a native there. These were interesting times, times that the man would surely love to find a way to exploit.

And now it seemed as if the clouds were parting and that way was being shown. How simply marvelous.

As the two conversed, Jorge was delighted to hear a bit more about the building that he was currently in; especially the clientele. It seemed that this served as a kind of hub for various mercenaries and killers throughout the world. It was a haven for individuals who spilled blood for money, complete with its own hierarchy and rules. If such a place had existed in his own universe, Jorge would have been tickled pink, but as it was, this seemed to be wholly from this universe alone. Pity, but amazing all the same.

Jorge listened closely, nodding his head as he took another sip from his drink, sighing in satisfaction as the smooth flavor. But despite the excellent taste in beverage, he was more and more interested in what Hades had to say, the young man with the ancient eyes. This had to be more than just mere coincidence, especially since their relationship began before the full-on breach had even occurred. It was kismet, fate, destiny, the universe opening a possibility that only a fool would ignore.

Jorge was no fool.

”Interesting…” He said, his face expressionless, showing no bewilderment, no complete surprise, but no boredom either. He was a businessman, after all, and keeping your wits about you was of the utmost importance.

There was a pregnant pause between the two of them, both merely regarding one another, watching for signs, the smallest ticks. When it was finally broken, it was Hades who would begin.

>>"Perhaps I am being presumptuous, but you strike me as a man of business. I can understand the draw to see and experience a new universe, I can also understand the desire to express gratitude personally, but I cannot help but wonder if there are yet further, more compelling reasons for crossing time and space to visit this universe."

Jorge was quiet for a moment, simply enjoying the silence as his dark eyes looked over the younger man across from him. He really was a perceptive one but there was something about those eyes of his that Jorge simply couldn’t put his finger on. He had seen eyes like that on another, old eyes that depicted ages of living, only Charlie’s eyes were certainly not as old as Hades’. That tickled the small portion of his brain, pointing him to the one fact he had been hoping for all along -- that Hades was a mutant. A small smirk pulled at his lips.

He nodded his head as he carefully set his glass back down on the table, and leaned forward a bit as he addressed the other.

”I am a businessman, you are correct. I am one that firmly believes in stepping forward and making connections when available. You did me a great bit of good when you handled my true target, as well as pointed me in the direction of a possible mole,” he grinned. ”All of that more than justifies a personal meeting.” A pause. ”But you are correct. Despite the validity of all that, I do have another purpose in coming here. You see, I was hoping to meet you for one very specific reason, other than the fact that I was curious. I’m hoping to...expand my reach. I don’t just mean by streets or neighboring cities, but across dimensions as well.” He watched the man for any expression as he spoke. ”And, it is my hope, that you can help me with that.”

Hades had to confess that he was enjoying the confabulation more than he would have expected. Poseidon, apart from being a man of taste and an excellent crime boss who ran a first rate crew, was also keenly observant, quick on the uptake and had an excellent poker face. Reading most people with Hades experience tended more towards the open book category, with the Lord of the Oceans however, it was like playing chess with master. They watched each other, evaluating, observing yet not appearing to do so.

Hades made the next opening move and waited for the reaction. It was subtle, Poseidon's eyes drifted to his, as if finding something of note there. Then they widened ever so slightly and twitch that might have been the ghost of a smirk crossed his lips. The eyes, it was oft quoted that they were the windows to a man's (or woman's) soul. If you knew what to look for the eyes could be the most vocal part of the face, and it took significantly more effort to mask the eyes. Poseidon, was the type of person with which one like Hades could conceivably carry on two conversations simultaneously. They could be sitting in the most banal of locations, talking about the most trivial of matters but at the same time with subtle hints and gestures be carrying on an altogether more serious and sinister conversation underneath. Rare. But back to the matter at hand. For his guest to have that reaction, something in Hades eyes had given him a clue. Hades would wager it was age. Hades would also wager that he was not the first immortal that Poseidon had met, and by the lack of any ticks expressing displeasure, Hades surmised that Poseidon was not against mutants, or at the very least not against employing them.

>>”I am a businessman, you are correct. I am one that firmly believes in stepping forward and making connections when available. You did me a great bit of good when you handled my true target, as well as pointed me in the direction of a possible mole,” 

Hades nodded, true enough.

”All of that more than justifies a personal meeting.”

His guest grinned. The grin of a predator, a ruthless one at that but one that was genuinely pleased.

>> ”But you are correct. Despite the validity of all that, I do have another purpose in coming here. You see, I was hoping to meet you for one very specific reason, other than the fact that I was curious. I’m hoping to...expand my reach. I don’t just mean by streets or neighboring cities, but across dimensions as well.”

Hades allowed his right eyebrow to rise just a fraction. He certainly had vision and impeccable timing. The current two factions were insufficient to maintain balance. Three had historically seemed to maintain the best balance, allowing the most vocal or forthright of mutants to channel their energies cohesively. Hades could easily guess which camp Poseidon's new faction would fall under. It would be good, and from the sound of things opportunities for some delightfully challenging work.

>>And, it is my hope, that you can help me with that.”

At that Hades allowed both eyebrows to rise a fraction and his eyes to widen ever so slightly as if to say, "please expound" but the man fell silent.

Hades pondered for a moment, coolating his thoughts, rashness had no place in this conversation.

"I must congratulate you on your impeccable timing." His guest was not the only one who could make perfectly meaningful yet vague statements. His raised his glass as if in toast and took a sip before continuing.

"It appears that we are in agreement on many things but there are a few" He paused and his lips twitched, a slight tick that usually indicated the following word was either an understatement or had a far deeper meaning that one would first assume. "Minor points that need ... clarification."

"I would like to hear more about your plans to extend your reach but first perhaps I should ask the nature of assistance required and the price. As much as we are in agreement, I do not work for free."

Hades could guess what might be asked of him. Either clear out certain spaces, eliminate competition, remove legal obstacles or perhaps even recruit or train people. The price though, that would tell him the most. His client had not disappointed him so far but Hades suspected this would be a significantly larger undertaking. What was it worth to Poseidon?

There. He laid it out -- partially. Jorge was a man who believed in allowing others to come to the right conclusions, whether that journey be through their own patterns of thoughts or that of pain brought on by another; in the end it was best for people to try and come to their own conclusions. He wanted to know what Hades thought of his offer, but with only the smallest part of his appetite whetted. After all, if Hades didn’t want any part of his endeavor, it would be foolish for the crime boss to reveal more than he needed to.

So he fell silent, engaging in this verbal chess match with the younger-seeming man who sat across from him. It was always most interesting to observe another person in the heat of trying to make an important decision. Hades was curious, but Jorge wanted to know just how curious he really was.

>>"I must congratulate you on your impeccable timing...It appears that we are in agreement on many things but there are a few...Minor points that need ... clarification."

Poseidon nodded his head understandingly. Hades was nibbling at the hook but he wasn’t chopping down on the bait just yet. That was of no surprise. Considering the ruthlessness to which he operated, the older man would have been disappointed had Hades just jumped on board without further explanation. They were both cautious and careful planners, each one still sizing the other up in hopes either gaining an edge on.

It was a most interesting conversation, truly.

His hands folded upon his lap, he arched a brow as he watched the man slowly continue to mull over his thoughts until he finally deemed himself ready to speak.

>>"I would like to hear more about your plans to extend your reach but first perhaps I should ask the nature of assistance required and the price. As much as we are in agreement, I do not work for free."

A chuckle. ”And I wouldn’t expect you to,” the watermancer admitted. He took a second, idly cracking his knuckles in thought before continuing. ”I assure you, I do pay well; as for what I am after, it is far more valuable.” He sighed sitting back in his chair and observing again as he spoke. ”You’ve no doubt seen...aspects of my organization...at least it’s reach. We’ve connections in most enterprises throughout the city. However, here,” he sighed dreamily. ”So much untapped potential. So much chance to spread the message, the most important message…” he paused, then his voice lowered. ”...of mutant supremacy.” Another pause. ”My world is making strides but it is long, bloody journey. Another organization, SUPER, government run, is deeply rooted into the fabric of my reality. They make matters...difficult. Hence, why I would like to expand. If I can gain ground here, where there is no SUPER, no boundaries,” he smirked. ”Think of how much more good we can bring to our people.”

So the circling continued with points going to both sides. Although this exchange was by no means a lethal one, there were consequences to the victor. It was, an extended evaluation if you will. A negotiation taking place on many levels. Hades kept his face passive and waited for the man to finish before processing it all in one go. Although he did bow his head when Poseidon said >>"...Our people" as if to say score one for you for correctly deducing that Hades was a mutant. He had wondered if that was the case when that man had focused on his eyes and then his had widened slightly as if coming to a conclusion.

They say that the eyes are a window to a man's soul. The saying holds true in many contexts. It is a master attacker who can hide his intentions from his eyes. Yes the eyes can tell you a lot, and the longer one is alive the more that they have to tell. For immortals masking the eyes is a particular challenge. Hades did not think he was slipping but then again, no one was infallible. Then again if the god of the sea had encountered immortals before well... Regardless the cat was out of the bag. Score one for Poseidon.

Hades mulled over his words, there was no room for rashness in this conversation. Although to the untrained eye and ear the conversation was light, it was anything but. These were serious matters being discussed. The more the client revealed the larger the potential scope of the work being requested and the greater the consequences as well as the reward. Poseidon was in no rush which was just as well as Hades had no intention of being rushed and would have been disappointed otherwise.

He spoke slowly and deliberately. 

"There is much untapped..." His lips twitched to the side for a fraction for a second, a tell that indicated that words he was about to speak had layers of meanings. "...potential in this city and shall we say" He searched for the appropriate word, gently waving his the heavy cut glass in his hand. "...Fertile ground for the taking." He paused.

"I find myself most.... amenable to your message." He said rolling the word around in his mouth. He nibbled a bit more, subtly indicating that Poseidon had struck the right vein. But how far was he willing to go? Another thought occur ed to Hades, where did he fit into this Grand Plan? Was Poseidon's vision merely to use him as a contractor to help his ...organization gain a foothold? Or was there more. Well Hades would have to patiently wait as the man seemed perfectly happy to reveal things at his own pace.

The man had revealed more of his plan, it would be rude not to offer information back in kind. "While there is no organization like this SUPER here at the moment, the seeds of such an organization have been sown, with the META bots, numerous attempts at mutant registration legislation..." Again Poseidon, or perhaps the universe had impeccable timing. 

If Poseidon was to offer a position, Hades would be favorably disposed to accept it, pending the title. Although he would probably bundle into his requirements a request for help with the mutant child smuggling ring. He did not think the man would decline, given the message he was preaching. If, and it was a big if, all that came to pass, perhaps he could make the Shadow base available to this man, but he certainly would not consider it without taking out a Blood Contract, also called a Blood Oath. The level of trust required to offer up such a level of assets, could be settled for no less.

A Blood Contract was an archaic ritual dating back millennia. It was the most severe kind of contract and thus rarely invoked. To activate one, both parties cut their left palms, usually with a silver knife. Blood was allowed to drip form the left palm to the right one and both parties shook hands. The terms could be spoken verbally or written and it was witnessed. The hands were then washed in a silver bowl. Then the bowl and knives were melted to destroy all trace of blood.

If Hades broke a blood oath, he would immediately be barred from all neutral grounds, including the Contentintal, which he would forefit. He would in effect be black listed and were someone to bring Poseidon Hades head on a plate, Poseidon would be obligated to pay the bearer twice Hade's body weight in gold. The same would go for Poseidon. To break a Blood Oath was a death sentance. To commit to one showed the enormity or trust both parties had in each other. And if what Poseidon was offering was serious enough, it might just warrant that kind of aggrement.

There it was. He laid it out on the table what Jorge wanted in this dimension. He wanted a foothold, a place where he could start reaching out with his influence and, hopefully, bring mutants the peace of mind that they deserved. That was most important here, stopping SUPER from happening. SUPER was a plague to mutantkind on his own side of the rift, and the fact that they didn’t exist in this plane meant it was fertile grounds for Jorge to not only bring his influence into this world, but to ensure that SUPER could never take root.

That was essentially what the crime boss told his new friend. He wanted to set up roots in this universe so that he could reach out and help those that were of their own kind. After all, if there was a universe where his people were free from being hunted by the likes of SUPER, then why wouldn’t he do whatever possible to ensure their continued safety?

>>"There is much untapped...potential in this city and shall we say...Fertile ground for the taking.”

He smirked. Some would not be as accepting of someone planning to take over their native soil. But Jorge was not some conqueror just looking for land to grab, he was a businessman and a most importantly, he wanted to keep his people safe and alive. If Hades were a mutant and had been to the other side, then certainly he would know the forces that they were all up against. They needed to make sure that SUPER would not be here and he could only do that with his help.

>>"I find myself most.... amenable to your message...While there is no organization like this SUPER here at the moment, the seeds of such an organization have been sown, with the META bots, numerous attempts at mutant registration legislation..."

Jorge sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. ”I am saddened to hear that,” he whispered. ”That is why I need to make my move, to bring my organization into this reality. Mutants are not prepared for the animals that SUPER are. Work camps, robots, they are nothing compared to the organization and cold-heartedness that SUPER is capable of. Because, trust me, if they take root in this world…” he shook his head, taking another sip from his drink. ”...you’ll never be prepared for the weeds that they can sprout.” He paused, waiting for Hades to digest all this. At the end, Jorge asked, plain and simple: "Will you help me make the mutants of this world safe?"

Hades listened to Poseidon's words. 

>>... Mutants are not prepared for the animals that SUPER are. Work camps, robots....

The words "Work Camps" triggered flashbacks of the mutant registration camps. Hades jaw involuntarily clenched. Though to some they had happened more than half a decade ago, due to Hades time in the void, they were still fresh.

Hades had seen many horrors in his life time. The torture methods of anchient Asia, the horrors of both world wars...

The mutant registration camp however held a special place as it singled out mutants for perhaps the first time in recorded history. Hades had not spent much time on the other side, just enough to acquire and purchase materials for a hit, even so he had heard of SUPER. It was no stretch for Hades to imagine the terror and suffering that SUPER might cause. The formation of SUPER or something like it was inevitable, and would only be hastened by contact with the other side. This world now had a blueprint with which to form such an organization. 

He continued to listen and process Poseidon's words even as he was thinking, a skill developed and honed over the centuries.

>>"Will you help me make the mutants of this world safe?"

Hades stopped. Poseidon had just extended a verbal hand of invitation. Often when such a gesture is done physically, it creates an inclination to agree so he paused, stepped back and analyzed. In that moment a thousand thoughts flashed through his head, pros and cons were weighed. 

Probable Fact: Poseidon was most likely not an immortal, a very important point. If He had been an immortal, then allying to a cause was a far more serious decision than one mere lifetime of a mortal.

Fact: Poseidon knew how to run a tight ship, this was evidenced through the brief glimses affored by his time on the other side. 

From what Hades had observed, he inspired and rewarded loyalty, kept his word, harbored ruthless ambition, was capable of making bold moves and was not afraid to take chances. All points in his favor, plus he did not appear to be one who used then discarded people. But looking beyond that, Storms! He was earnest, he genuinely believed that he was going to make a better world for mutants. Forget that the man was brilliant at running a crime syndicate, forget that he had cunning, skills, a strategic mind, ambition and all that. He was earnest. He genuinely believed, and wanted to protect mutants. It was Hades experience that the intelligence and skills and determination, when fueled and supported by earnest belief could literally move mountains.

When someone is contemplating, pondering or calculating, it often shows in the eyes. Hades allowed all those to fall away, leaving a true honest gaze. He looked Poseidon in the eyes and simply said "Yes, it would be my pleasure to."

It was true, for one Hades could not see a point in opposing such a man or movement, he was throwing his weight in, seeing where it would go. To an immortal, what is a mere 5-10 decades and besides, there was the hideout under their very feet that was begging to be used, although he would require some token of trust before putting such an expensive and strategically valuable investment in play.