Hunter walked into the War Room and took his usual seat. Things needed to change, starting with the Kabal. It was currently too disorganised, just a haphazard group. What it needed to be was a finely tuned weapon.

He had concluded that what needed to be formed were teams. Looking at his roster he had formed two. One was a close quarter combat team specialising in physical abilities and covert actions. The other was a more general team, with a wider range of abilities at its disposal. Hunter had chosen the team leaders, two of his most experienced, though there might be some complaints.

The reason he had made teams was many fold. For starters, they could train together, becoming a tightly knit unit that would work seamlessly together. Also it would be easier to utilise them without having to formulate a group for each mission. Now Hunter awaited the arrival of the Kabal.

Slade paced towards the war room in skitters, this would be the first official grouping that Slade had attended and he was nervous as hell! Slade walked into a room that definitely was designed for him to be camoflaged in. It was round, and entirely silver. It seemed ornate and obviously well contained. Slade had no doubt that this place was secure!

There were several chairs in the room, Mr Antonescu was the only person present... Slade was surprised he was rarely the first there. Then again as soon as he'd received the memo he'd left his task to the delgates. This was far too exciting to turn up late... not to mention important!

"Evening Sir, how are you?" Slade nodded to his employer as he found his, for lack of a better word, unmissable seat. It was indeed designed for a car sized human and as such had little need to the name tag on the desk, reading Mr Ravenscroft. Slade frowned as he sat, he still wasn;t used to people calling him that. That name left him with only feelings of loss and guilt... He returned his attention to Mr Antonescu and waited for the rest of his "team". Slade hoped they'd play nice with the new kid...

Hades walked into the room, well “flowed” would probably be a better description. Usually he put people at ease by walking like an average human, but here he saw no need to pretend, thus he returned to his preferred style of walking. He came and went like a wrath, for that in part was what he was, and only the very acute of hearing could hear his comings and goings.

As he entered the room he paused nodded to Hunter and took his seat near Hunter. He also nodded a greeting to Slade as he sat down and activated the computer that was built into the desk all in one fluid motion. All things having been setup, he leant back in his chair and relaxed, awaiting the meeting that was about to begin.

Kitra finished tying her hair up and left her room. As she strode down the hallway, her mind was going at full pace. She wasn't sure how Hunter would react to her leaving and then being back. At her side, she wore her knapsack which held her drawing supplies, also awesome for notetaking if needed. Kitra entered the War Room, bowed to Hunter, "How are you Mr. Antonescu?" She took a seat a few seats away from him and gazed around the room. Kitra let out a small gasp, barely audible to her ears, as her eyes caught sight of Zelek. She looked down quickly, not sure what to do or if she should do anything at all. Kitra decided on doing nothing, it t'was a little safer after all.

Wandering listlessly through the desolate hallways of Mondragon labs subterranean bowls Zephyr gaze remained directed upon the folded paper held easily in his left hand, his azure eyes skimming through the minute print as he proceeded almost idly towards the war room. In the past the elemental had found such a title to be somewhat exaggerated and overdramatic. After all he had yet to hear of his vampiric employer planning any acts of war and until the passing of the registration act the labs had never endured any sort of pitched battle. Even taking recent history into account though the merc’s opinion of the so called “War Room” remained unchanged, however as the rooms designation was not his responsibility the mercenary did not permit it to bother him unduly and, at best, it was an idle annoyance.

‘China is a growing economic power… Russia is becoming more aggressive… the Middle East is still a threat… I thought the news was supposed to change.’ Simon sighed internally as casually flipped the paper through to the next section of paper searching for a headline that might give him reason to pause before he reached the financial section. He had actually to purchase a copy of The Wall Street Journal however due to the recent crisis in the markets the vendor he usually frequented had managed to sell every copy of that particular publication and the labs staff had chosen precisely that moment to establish contact and inform him of Antonescu’s summons and so the elemental had been forced to make do with his second choice before heading off towards the labs. The merc wasn’t even entirely certain why the immortal had requested his presence, the labs staff were only told the bare minimum of details after all, yet if past experience were any indication though his parasitic employer was likely planning an exercise that was less than legal.

Turning the final bend in the nexus of hallways Zephyr’s pace slowed slightly as he approached a set of sliding doors, he’d long since memorized the distance at which the doors would detect him as well as the speed at which he could walk to pass through without having to halt. Upon his entrance into the war room the elementals shifted his gaze from the article in his hand as he unknowingly copied Hades gesture, giving his employer a slight nod of recognition before heading to the first available seat where he then gave the rooms other occupants a cursory glance. The majority of the individuals were unknown to the mercenary, though that was hardly surprising given Atonescu’s social resources. Kitra Mavrick was the only character he’d come across before and the encounter had been somewhat irritating at the time.

There was however another figure which had caught the elemental eye though, a pale skinned youth with hair so dark it was either dyed or a mutational attribute. The youth seemed familiar for some reason, yet Zephyr was unable to recall why at the moment. He swiftly put the matter aside though, choosing to deal with the issue later should the opportunity arise. For now, it seemed he had some time to kill as Antonescu had yet to begin briefing and so Zephyr returned his attention to the publication he had brought with him; nonchalantly turning to back of the paper as he set his sights upon the days cross word and withdrew a stainless steel parker pen from his jacket. ‘Seven across; an itinerant individual with no clear goal…’ Simon sighed wearily as he idly entered “flaneur” into the appropriate boxes.

‘I should have chosen the Telegraph.’

Tris had got to memo for the meeting at the same as everyone else, but just had to watch the last 15 minutes of The Notebook- sad movie that, and so, consequently, when she had wound her way through the maze at was Mondragon Labs to the War Room, she found a number of the seats filled already.
Big surprise, she was alittle late.

Darn it
She thought even if she wasn't suprised by the fact as she halted at the door for a split second, taking in the scene- seeing who was there, who wasn't, who she recognized, and who she didn't.
But still, as she crossed to the table quickly she did acknowledge the 3 she most recognized, sending a warm smile Hunter's way as a greeting for the man who had helped her control her powers and was now responsible for the lifestyle to which she had become accustomed, an equally warm grin to Kit whom she had not seen in ages, and a glare for Zephyr, second in command of the Kabal, a man who irritated her more than all the 'survivor' type shows of the world combined. To the others of whom she either didn't know or barely knew, a smilpe nod of greeting did the trick.

Tris ended up siting next to Kit, and far away from certain other wind elemental's she did not care to mention., whispering an enthusiastic greeting in a low voice as the meeting hadn't started yet.
"Hey Kit........how you been?......where you been?......haven't seen you in an age is seems."

She had missed the moment when she had learnt how to distinguish the white-washed corridors from one another, but clearly, as her confident stride remained unfaltering, it had occurred. Her pace remained steady; she refused to rush just because she would arrive later than most. Her timing, by common convention, would be labelled ‘late’ and seriously so, since her arrival would miss, by a considerable margin, the stage even considered as fashionably late. Nox, however, was predominately unconcerned, and, should she have been forced to give an opinion, was in the belief that punctuality was, firstly, only a relative matter, and secondly, a trivial pastime of those with far too much free time. She would arrive exactly when she meant to, which often happened to coincide with whenever she happened to get there.

The doors slide away before her, giving way to the electronics that controlled them, and she entered, completely undaunted by her timing, or lack thereof. Like most others, she acknowledged Hunter with a slight nod of her head before taking a seat and allowing her eyes to scan the room. The two girls were known to her without being familiar; she had never really spoken with either of them. While two others, one impossibly pale youth and a human/car cross that was rather surprising, were completely new to her. This left only two: Hades, who had become a familiar sight, and him. The arrogant youth – their last meeting hadn’t been exactly cordial, what with the small matter of them both coming uncomfortably close to death. Seeing him here with his pretentious pose she realised how much she preferred him unconscious, which was how she had last seen him. Regardless of their last exchange, Nox didn’t stoop to the level of throwing him a glare. No, her eyes didn’t offer any friendship, but then neither did they portray any traces of loathing. And so she sat, and waited to see whether they would begin, or if anyone else possessed a sense of punctuality to rival her own.