Almost immediately after her little run-in with Lori, Isabel had set out to put their quickly discussed plans in motion. The first task on the list was gathering the Order for and informal dinner during which she would deliver to them the news of Seizure and Syn and then open up the floor to discussion and brainstorming for the public announcements that would follow, as well as what was to become of the rapidly deteriorating reformation that Seizure had set in place.

The first stop was the Dining Hall to speak with the kitchen staff about the preparations for dinner. It was a bit of a push, but she didn't want to put the meeting off for even a day, urging the staff to do their very best in preparing a meal for the same night. The Hall was to be cleared out and no one was to be let in without first being invited. Once empty, the room was to be cleaned until spotless and set for a proper dinner. Any issues were to be reported directly to Isabel so she could do her best to set them straight.

Next, after receiving an estimate from the dining staff of how long it would take to prepare everything, she went directly to Lisa. The hardworking Receptionist almost never failed to get in touch with anyone in the Order when they were needed. Isabel wanted the message sent to each and every member and a few select guests. If anyone was forgotten in her eager rush, Lisa would no doubt fix that error. A big thank you was given to the Secretary before rushing off again, the ribboned young woman doing little else than supervising the preparations and making a nuisance of herself and her hovering.

It was nearly dark out before the staff assigned to the task finally announced that everything was prepared and they were ready to receive those that would be attending. A set of several tables had been placed end-to-end to create a single long table, the length of it draped in a deep red cloth and lined with a generous amount of chairs, mainly in case all of the Clones attended individually, rather than accompanying Abyss in one compact package. Each place was set with plates, glasses, silverware, and black napkins neatly wrapped in silver napkin rings. Candles had been decided against, as some Order members tended to be rather volatile and a meeting like the one that was planned could easily heat up at some point. The last thing they needed was for something to catch on fire and everyone to get drenched by the sprinkler system. Instead the lights had been dimmed just enough to create a more relaxing atmosphere.

In the kitchen numerous dishes waited under silver platters on wheeling carts. Cooked vegetables, freshly sliced fruits, several types of meats and some vegetarian dishes, for those so inclined to a meat-free lifestyle. Soups and salads were also offered and numerous dessert items were waiting in fridges and freezers until the meal's end. Sodas, water, juices, and for the older members, red and white wines were all on ice, ready for their request.

Isabel was uncharacteristically the first to arrive for the meeting, mainly due to the fact that she'd rarely left the kitchen throughout the meal's preparation. With a sigh she had placed herself at the head of the table, a position that would undoubtedly have been claimed by Syn, had she been able to attend. Sitting still for the first time since she'd left Lori, she laced her fingers together and leaned back in her chair, waiting to greet her companions and get their dinner and meeting underway.

Gore sat on the couch pissed at the result’s from the main event! His temper quickly raised as the beer bottle that he was holding quickly found itself flying out the window and not really caring where it had landed. Sitting there in a recliner disappointed Gore felt a soft jolt coming from his side. Placing his hand on his hip he pulled his sidekick out realizing he had a text message.

“You are called to attend an informal dinner to be held in honor of past, present, and future members of our beloved Faction. There is much to be discussed concerning the attack on KP and what will be done about it in the near future. Please report to the Dining Hall in as timely a fashion as you are able”

Gore just sat in shock as he thought about this message. Sure he had been gone awhile but what could have caused this attack. He looked around the room but saw nobody that he was sure could shed any light on the meeting or anything at that matter. Gore quickly made his way to his room. From what he knew this was gonna be a decent dinner. He was ready to show the Order that he matured since he was gone and ready for more than just muscle missions. Standing at his closet he shuffled through everything that was hanging till he found just the right suit. After cleaning himself up for well what he was gonna use to get him fully into the order and make a name for himself. He stood in the mirror looking in his eyes just right for the occasion. From the cream colored low rider hat, black and cream pin striped suit, and all the way down to the alligator dress shoes.

As he shut the door behind him he paused, reaching into is pocket Gore pulled out a partially burnt Cuban cigar and lights it again. As he walked down the hall he thought about all good times he had and the nice family reunion that could take place… then again he remembered last time he met the whole gang and almost got into a fight with the dog catcher. This could be extremely interesting. He thought to himself.

“Ah Gore, you are the first to arrive. The host for this event is already waiting inside” Said a man holding a clip board at the door. With that the door was opened. Gore gave a small gesture to the man at the door and entered. He looked around never remembered the hall being this nice. Taking the cigar out his mouth, he stopped and closed his eyes and enjoyed a brief second of the smell’s that were coming from the kitchen.

“Well I must say, I didn’t expect such a grand welcome home party on my first day…” He said with a big smile. But quickly dropping because he knew a smart remark was gonna come from this innocent but deadly looking women. Besides he knew it was time to be serious… “But honestly what in the hell happen when I left?”

Meld hadn't exactly recovered from the events at KP and the virus she had been afflicted with. Physically she felt fine, but then she always felt fine since she couldn't feel anything but fine. She had angry red wounds, barely closed and still healing, all along her waist where she had been melded to the Bobcat and had to cut herself out. Her flesh and blood arm also had an angry red wound where she had melded to the street sign. But the wounds were temporary and she had had worse. It was the mental wounds that were truly the ones she had to live with, the ones she wasn't entirely sure she could live with. She hadn't been able to control herself, hadn't been able to stop herself from acting on every dark impulse she had ever had in her life and nearly all of those impulses involved indulging in violence and death. She had been sitting in her room and brooding over the events for days, leaving only to find food in the kitchens of Sanctuary and then only leaving late at night when very few people were awake to potentially confront her.

Meld was sitting at her desk working on her tail when she got the message inviting her to the dinner. Her tail, at least, was the one thing in her life that actually seemed to be going well. Her recent self-incarceration had given her plenty of time to finish the sketches and she had just started working on the full sized prototype tail, working with soapstone as she preferred to do when working on her prototypes. She also still had enough money stashed away from the bank robbery a few months ago and the jewelry store robbery from a few weeks ago to finance the supplies for her tail, although that would most likely clean her out financially. She would worry about where she would get the money for her next flesh meld when the time came to begin work on it, however. If nothing else there were always more stores to rob and there were unfortunately always more anti-mutant haters to kill.

The invitation received on her cell phone piqued Meld's interest. The higher ups still seemed to consider her a junior member of The Order and thus rarely spoke to her at all, they hadn't even given her any tasks or missions to complete. She would gladly take a more important role, however, if only they gave her the chance. She would have liked to be able to put on some clothing to really make a good impression, but since every piece she owned had to be modified to be wearable around her flesh melds she didn't have anything particularly fancy or expensive and opted for simple black. It was practical and she knew she didn't look bad in it, even if it lacked the impact that something more expensive and higher quality might have. She trusted in the impact of her flesh melds however. Those combined with her recently gained scars made quite the impression and that impression spoke of danger and confidence.

Meld left her quarters with her head held high, meeting any gaze who dared meet hers and carefully putting all of her recent problems into the back of her mind. For the time being they were not important and she would not allow them to affect her. For the duration of this dinner she would be her usual confident and often ruthless self. She would make the kind of impression she needed to make and, hopefully, she would raise her standing within The Order. In many ways the battle for standing was not so different than the sorts of battles she was used to fighting, those resulting in blood and death and she was no more willing to lose this battle than she was willing to lose the more conventional kind.

Meld stopped in front of a man with a clipboard and gave him her name, which he checked off and gestured her inside. She was only the third to arrive, it seemed. That was good, she preferred to be early whenever possible. She recognized Isabel although they had only had a couple of dealings in the past and nodded respectfully towards her. She knew Isabel to be one of the higher ups that she needed to impress if she was ever to gain herself any sort of status. The second individual was a stranger, a rather intimidating looking black man, or at least he would be intimidating if Meld was the kind to be intimidated. If he was a human she wouldn't have thought twice about him, despite his muscular physique and hardened expression, but since he was at this meeting it meant he was a mutant and that meant he was far more dangerous than even his appearance would lead one to believe. She nodded in his direction as well, sensing in him a fellow warrior. To the practiced eye it was obvious in the way he moved and the way he carried himself.

Meld walked over and took a seat next to Isabel. There were no labels on any of the chairs dictating where one should be seated and she figured since she was one of the first to arrive it was only fair that she should be permitted to sit near the head of the table. It was all about perception and she would create the perception that she was someone important, someone worthy of both respect and responsibility. The first she had all ready, or so she believed, and the second would come in time.

The man with the clipboard tapped his pen. Tap. Tap. It was in this way that Calley knew he was dressed inappropriately. Seriously, though, that invitation? It said nothing about shoes. Or mandatory pants.

A shirt, he had. It was white, and button-up. A suit jacket, too: black, and respectable. Red tie. (Clip on.) Socks, white with gray toes. Legs, comfortably bare. Boxers, rainbow style. They were very bright and happy. Was he not allowed to have very bright and happy boxers?

“Problem, officer?” The brown-haired teenager asked Mr. Clipboard. Mr. Clipboard gave him the same look Lisa had, and waved him into the room.

It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t have any real clothes at the Sanctuary. What? It had been months since he’d last lived here. And he was not going to borrow from the lost and found, or the spare hobo clothes closet. He’d been doing that for two years, at every place he’d stayed. Today? Today, Calley was making a stand: he was wearing his own clothes. These were his own bright and happy rainbow boxers. Anyone who had a problem with that could... have a problem with that. Themselves. ‘Cause it would be their own problem. Yeah...

His problem was that he hadn’t thought before going to the training room. His basic shifting was back online, though it still felt a little like squealing gears in his head: using Ouroboros in a fight could do that to a multi-shifter’s head. And since the clothes he’d had on (pants included) had been just another set of spares... well, he hadn’t thought much of shredding them with a shift.

And then the message had come.

And then he’d looked in his closet.

But you know what? Bright and happy rainbow boxers were no crime. And even if they were, present company was clearly not allowed to play judge in the matter of crimes. Right, Order members?

Thus did a fairly non-descript brown haired, blue eyed teenager walk in on their family dinner. He didn’t carry himself like a sweet sociopath, like his Isabel. He didn’t have the muscles of Big Bad Bulging Arms there. And he wasn’t trying to prove something with every inch of his spine, like Scrap Yard Arm. Heck, he didn’t even have a rap sheet with the police. But he’d been invited here, just the same as all of them. And the reason for that was either A) Isabel was going to kill him semi-publically, or B) someone saw something of value in him. Which he kind of liked.

As for the first option? Heh. Calley took a seat right next to Ms. Meld. Because that put him riiiiight next to Issie, with a comfortable meat shield in between. The way he carried himself was completely relaxed. He had nothing to prove. It wasn’t like he even cared about this meeting. He was just here for a nice dinner, and a bit of light conversation.

“Nice to see you again, Meld. Issie. Muscles.”

Nope, him and his boxers had nothing to prove. Especially not why he was suddenly refusing clothing charity, and amiably provoking a killer or two.

After Isabel left the office Lori leaned back into the chair, her chair. She'd pretty successfully assumed Seizure's position as the brains of the operation. Now she just had to do her homework. She pushed her reading glasses up and cracked open the next file, a double it seemed. Amp and Vibe. Twins. She'd met them once, though she couldn't rightly remember what they were like. As she read on, she would know more about them.

It wasn't until Lisa came tapping at the loose doorway that Lori realized that Isabel had been a very proactive busy bee and had set the evening's dinner for this very night. Not that Lori didn't approve. She just would have liked to have read more files by the time just in case all of the members showed. Of course, there was no way all of them should show up. The Sanctuary had been a bit peckish for activity lately.

With a sigh, she made her way back to her room and replace her glasses by her bedside. She peeked into Mars' room. He wasn't there, of course. She wasn't quite sure where the Abyssi had been since she blew up the Kabal's canteen and all the wild events that followed, but she hadn't exactly gone out of her way to catch up with him. Abyss proper had been... wild... after the news about Syn came out. Hopefully he'd caught up to the fiend and they'd have some results to present at dinner.

Well, without anything else to keep her, she made her way to the dining hall. She wasn't surprised at the door checker, the Order's business was still separate from the Sanctuary's business. There were still relative innocents here. She was, however, surprised to see the red and black decorations and the varying degrees of dress or... undress.

Lori stopped on the inside of the door looking over the small number of occupants. Her cerulean eyes fixing again on some light blue eyes that she did not expect to see again anytime soon. She stood still observing for a moment before breathing easily. He may have looked the same, but he was much easier. His movements were casual and slouchy. If Slate were an actor, she thought she would have picked up on it. And this would have been a wonderful act. Lori just couldn't believe that Slate was here, but if it really wasn't him that meant one thing. There was more than one Slate. And that multiple of Slate was nothing like the original.

As evidenced by the neon colors underneath the table. Not that Lori could complain much. She was only wearing some skinny jeans with a soy sauce stain on the knee and an old black tank top with the number 22 screen printed on it in a color that echoed her eyes. "Meld. Gore." Lori nodded to the strangers individually. She didn't mind that she more than likely knew quite a lot more about them than they knew about herself.

As for the Slate clone, Lori watched him curiously as she took the only seat left next to Isabel. She wasn't quite sure about him yet, but she was almost certain that she liked him better than Slate already.

He was painting the waiting room of what would become his clinic when his pager began to buzz. Considering it was the one he'd used when he was the resident healer at the Sanctuary, he was a little surprised. After the events at King Pharmaceuticals, he had been fairly certain he had been estranged. He was, of course, still perfectly willing to come to someone's rescue if he was needed. It wasn't a rescue they had planned for him, though.

“Family dinner tonight, please come at Isabel's request.”

An invitation to dinner was not at all what he had expected. If he heard anything from the Sanctuary people at all, he would have thought it would be something more along the lines of a threatening letter telling him he had only days left to live or a note that he should come get his belongings out of their room so they could give it to someone else. He had been under the impression that he was distinctly unwelcome back at the home for homeless mutants, especially by Isabel who, last time he'd seen her, had thought he shot her friend Syn. It could be a trap, he supposed, but he'd have to walk into it to be certain.

An hour or so later he'd cleaned up the best he could considering that most of his clothing was still at the Sanctuary. He was dressed following his normal style in a light tan suit and coat with a light blue shirt underneath and a white bow tie (the real kind, not clip ons for this old fashioned gentleman). There was also a few small flecks of paint in his hair. He was unaware of these, but they were white and blended in so he can hardly be blamed for missing them during his two second inspection of himself in the mirror before rushing out the door.

It felt a little strange to walk in through the golden doors again. It felt remarkably like coming home, even though he was in actuality more of a guest here now. Lisa met his gaze as he walked past, which, for her, was almost the same as a smile. He bowed and tipped his imaginary hat, for he didn't currently possess a real one. An unfamiliar man with a clipboard stopped him at the door of the dining room and asked for his name, which he gave, then he was admitted into the site of the “family dinner”.

The room was decorated in Syn's favorite colors, and a few people had already arrived. Isabel sat at the head of the table. A girl whom Sebastian hadn't interacted with before sat next to her; she was an interesting character with several shiny metal parts to her the least of which were piercings intended to decorate her face. A well built black man was present, as was a blonde woman whose face Sebastian recognized from only brief encounters. He was fairly certain her name was Lori. The final person was someone whose face he instantly recognized, but whom he was fairly certain he'd never met. With that outfit and those mannerisms, this must be Slate's brother, Calley. He walked to the head of the table to greet the bone manipulator first thing.

“Good evening Isabel,” he bowed and tipped his imaginary hat for the second time of the evening. “It is nice to see you are in good health.”

After he made his greetings the unicorn man found a seat next to the blonde woman Lori and across from Calley, whom he realized as he found his own seat, was not wearing pants. Lori was wearing jeans. The heavily muscled man was wearing crocodile skinned shoes. Apparently he needn't have worried so much about wearing the exact right thing for the occasion as it seemed like anything would be acceptable at this event.

“I suppose we should make proper introductions,” he said to those sitting closest to him. “I am Sebastian Csendes, healer.”

Mars flipped open his phone and then closed it again noting the message and the request, he moved from a study in one of the lesser used nooks of the library and shoved a pair of reading glasses in a dress shirt pocket.He rose to his feet and then made way to the diner after finished a short passage on geology. The epic tribute to Syn was still under way and all except for Himself and Saturn were seeing to its completion, He had a feeling that there would be a shift in the way things worked here at home and he wanted all of his more violent parts off doing something occupying with their time. He however knew that Saturn and he would be enough to break up any foolish attempts where as something from Isabel would be welcome, if slightly suprising. upon entrance a man with a clipboard began to step up to him and a small look said more than enough about the fact that he should recognize him. The void opened upon assessment of the room and Saturn walked off into the hall. Mars entered the room and quite calmly took a seat at the foot of one end of the table, it was a statement that he wasn't here to claim the reigns but he certainly put himself in a position to have his say.

Moments later Saturn returned with a stack of slacks from 26w 30l to 32w-32l. He walked over to Calley's spot at the table. " Take your pick, for whatever reason, Mars there is in a bit of a serious mood, do me a favor and humor him? I'm tired of people being in a worse mood than me."

Mars set with his hands clasped and a sour look on his face, Saturn was left in the awkward position of socializing. Mars couldn't help but drift to the unicorn that was somehow whole before him...interesting that he could walk, much less breathe. Was Abyss going soft? All he could get out of him about Seizure was that he had found him. They had all assumed that meant he was very very dead. but then again he had found the unicorn as well hadn't he. yes this one was a healer, but he had always figured there were somethings you didn't heal from.

Aura had almost locked herself away, studying her memories for any faults that could have been caused by her. The battile itself had been poorly orgainized, she had not even had orders other then to keep peple out of KP. Her room once again had met with destruction as the young order member had shredded the room. This time it was in a fit of rage against the idea that they had lost, it was true they had but the idea of loseing such a fight made Aura consider her own failures in the battile. Their had to be more she could have done. The only bit of light was for the most part they had come out of it ok.

Aura hears a knock at her door, and a voice told her of the dinner they were having, stretching a bit, Aura considerd weather or not to go, ultimately decideing to go. Isable had organized it after all and that was the only reason Aura needed. Chnageing she changed into a recently bought white tank top and a pleated blue skirt. Solkat opened her eyes just once before going back to bed. Aura left quickly heading for the dinning hall.

Aura saw the man with the clipboard who greeted her and let her in, Aura's eyes scanned over the assemebeled group of order members, well mostly order members. She saw many had arrived before her, including gore, mars and meld. Taking a seat quickly she wonderd in part what would be going on at the meeting she had a good idea, but it seemed rare any mettings were actually called here anyway. She looked around the table their were a few faces she did not know or had not seen much of, in the cases of lori and sbastion. He knew the latter could heal though as she had seen him work a few times. She also had no idea he had been in kp with seizure. She ran a hand through her wild unkept hair as she looked around the table again. For the first time Aura noticed the black and red theme of the room and found it was quite pretty, their were many worse choices she could have made. She said nothing but her eyes looked over to meld, pred-head and Mars in order as a way of greeting unsure exactly what was going on.

Gradually Isabel's position shifted as she leaned forward away from the back of her chair, her elbows finding their way to the top of the table, no matter if it was bad manners to do so. Her fingers remained laced together as her chin dropped down on top of them and her eyes slid closed, allowing her a moment to ignore everything around her and just think. What was she supposed to say to her friends? She never expected to ever have to deliver any kind of news as bad as what she'd learned. A sudden wave of anxiousness hit her, along with a wish to retract the invitations and forget the Dinner entirely. Lori seemed to know what she was doing, let her figure something out. Isabel had hardly ever needed to step up as a true leader. She was content to follow after her superiors, so long as she was content in what she did for them.

However, she owed it to her companions to do her best where she could. They deserved to know what happened within their Faction and to its members, especially when such a tragedy had occurred. There was some small comfort in the fact that after the news had been announced, they would be able to move onto more productive discussions. She wanted to get back at the X-Nerds and those that had aided them in the destruction of KP.

Hearing the door open, she lazily opened her eyes again and lifted her head away from her hands. It certainly wasn't anyone she'd initially expected. She couldn't remember how long it had been since she'd last seen Gore, nor had she ever learned where he'd disappeared to. However, his appearance at her invitation's request at least showed that he was still interested in what went on in the Order and was still willing to be a member.

One eyebrow rose quizzically at his remark upon entering, though she didn't bother making any reply. A bit of humor was a welcome change from her current mood, but she just didn't feel quite up to joking back. "The most significant thing was a big Brawl at KP a few days ago. You'll get filled in soon enough. That fight's what this meeting's all about," she responded to his more serious inquiry. There was no time to go into any detail about their scuffle with the X-Men, it would be an unnecessary investment of time. It should be easy enough for him to piece things together as the dinner progressed.

Next was Meld, who showed no shyness in placing herself right next to Isabel, making the once-ribboned mutant wonder if the other young woman had known who had been the one holding the gun that contained the Haywire darts. It certainly hadn't been intentional to target to newly scarred mutant. "Hello Meld. I'm glad you were able to come. I'm sorry about the short notice," she greeted, giving the girl a small smile as she leaned back in her chair once more, at least trying to adopt a somewhat more proper appearance, rather than seeking out what was most comfortable like before. People were beginning to arrive. She wanted to appear a little more like she looked like she knew what she was doing.

Her attempt was cut short when the one of the last people she wanted to see marched through the door. With no pants. Displaying obnoxiously bright and colorful boxers. Isabel could have killed Lisa. She'd heard something about the shifter helping out her Faction during the Brawl, but that didn't mean she wanted him to join them. Or to wander around her Sanctuary. Or to sit that close.

With slow, careful movements she removed her elbows from the table and rested her hands in her lap, the fingers of one curling tightly around the opposite wrist while she did her best not to stand and forcibly remove the intruding, boxer-clad young man. He had to be there for a reason, or the message wouldn't have been sent to him in the first place. In the least his choice in attire made her feel better about her own outfit. After her unfortunate run-in with an unknown male in the stairwell, she'd been forced to find another outfit as quickly as possible. She still wasn't comfortable with how much more skin was allowed to show in comparison to what she'd worn before.

Lori next, a little later than expected, though Isabel was pleased that she'd showed up at all. She was sure the woman hadn't expected the plans to fall into place so quickly, but had humored Isabel's impatience in any case. It was somewhat comforting to know she wasn't entirely alone in all this planning and what would occur later on in the night.

Sebastian Csendes, healer. She gave him a smile as he entered and greeted her. Even with having to deal with her temper and her accusations, he remained the polite gentleman. "Sebastian," she greeted, giving a small nod and relaxing the too-tight grip she had on her own wrist. The more people that showed up, the bigger a distraction she would have from the colorful young man that had seated himself a little too close. "I'm sorry about all the trouble I put you through. I should know better. If you ever need anything, you can contact me. I'd like to make it up to you."

Then Mars and Saturn, followed soon after by Aura. The presentation of a stack of pants to Calley managed to gain a small grin from Isabel. At least she wasn't alone in her disapproval. It was a shame the rest of the Big Reds couldn't make it, but she could most certainly understand their absence. They were closer to Syn than she could ever be. She only wished she could have done something to help.

Anyone else that had been sent the invitation were certainly welcome to join, but since the majority had already arrived, the kitchen staff were given the order to proceed with the dinner. Carts were wheeled out and covers to platters were removed, presenting the offering to those that had gathered and allowing them to pick and choose as they pleased. Her own appetite was rather small at the moment, so she did little more than pick at the smaller, less filling items that were offered.

A short time was allowed for everyone to settle in, relax a little, and gather what they wanted for their meals. People tended to be a little more agreeable when they had something in their stomachs, and Isabel wanted to avoid any arguments that could get a little too heated. "Thank you all for gathering for me at such short notice. I really do appreciate your cooperation. I'm just sorry this meeting had to be held under such circumstances," she began, replacing her hands in her lap and leaving her plate unattended.

"As most of you know, it was the X-Men who attacked King Pharmaceuticals, and I fully intend on paying them back for doing so. However, there is also another issue that I am even more deeply disturbed about. I'm assuming most, if not all, of you know the man that goes by the name of Garrett Wills, also carrying the codename Seizure, a man who recently took up the title of the Sanctuary Director and attempted to reshape the Order with a little more organization. I am also quite comfortable in calling this man a Traitor." She paused a moment, allowing that little tidbit of information to sink in briefly, as well as attempting to organize her thoughts a little.

"The X-Men were not the only ones to act against us. They are not the ones responsible for the destruction of Haywire itself. That blame rests solely on Seizure. This man acted behind our backs while we fought to keep what was ours, what we had worked hard to obtain and reshape. He used some of our employees, as well as various other workers throughout the city to set his plan in motion, obtaining the Haywire sample and eventually depositing it into a foundry. From what I have gathered, Syn was the only one of us who got in his way. In turn, he shot and killed her."

Another pause, this one longer. For all she knew, Lori, Sebastian, and the Big Guys were the only ones who had any knowledge of this incident. The others would likely need a moment to soak up the information. Isabel herself wanted a brief break in her words. Seizure killed Syn. The more she said it, the more mechanical it felt. And yet it still hurt. "Predictably, Seizure has disappeared. I don't know where he went or what's happened to him since. As long as he doesn't cause us anymore harm, he can remain wherever it is he's gone. Otherwise, I want him dealt with."

"In the case of the X-Men, who so conveniently provided him with cover for his operation, I want to hear what everyone thinks should be done about them. I don't know about all of you, but it's just a little too coincidental for my liking. I don't know if it was an opportunity that Seizure used to his advantage, or if it was all connected somehow. However, I do know that this time it was the X's that attacked us first and unprovoked. I would like to show them that we are not a force to be toyed with."

There was a blonde across the table. She looked his way. He raised a little hand, in a little wave, with a little smile, as Isabel said very very little to him. Heh.

The unicorn shifter—the very cool unicorn shifter, who Calley had met once before in cat form—got a simple curious look. An Ordercorn, huh? Evvvvil.

And then there was Abyss. And lo, there were pants. The teen stared at the stack, held before him like an order. And who were the Abyssi, to order him around? Friends, yep. But friends don’t give friends orders. A moment of baby blue staring ensued. And then Calley’s habitual smile broadened out into a grin.

“Thanks,” he said cheerfully, taking the top pair off of the stack. “That’s just what I needed.” Calley leaned back in his chair, balancing merrily on its two back legs. The pants? Went behind his head, in a nice jeansy pillow. Yep, this was the life.

The food came. The eating commenced, with liberal grabbing of anything that looked remotely good. Calley’s spot at the table soon became a bit crowded, particularly on the sugary end of things.

And then the Issie spoke. And lo, it was good. The Order had tried to give itself some order? Heh. Cute. They’d let themselves get lead by a traitor? Even cuter. Behind his buffet, the multishifter tried to keep up a dignified face. Well befitting of this serious news. But just as he was putting a bite of cake in his mouth, he got to eat it, too:

>> “...From what I have gathered, Syn was the only one of us who got in his way. In turn, he shot and killed her."

Choking, and hasty swallowing, ensued. That, friends, was rich.

“Syn’s dead?” The teenager asked. Just for confirmation. Not, of course, that he wanted to hear that line again.

“So who’s in charge of the Order, then? Can't still be Traitor McGee.”

Saturn shrugged at calley's response, his tail tilted his chair back a bit more and then dumped the rest of the pants on top of his face and then reversed the tilt sending it toward all fours.

"Anytime." Saturn replied in turn to Calley's thanks. An eighth of a smile threatening to hurt his cheats in response to the comedy.

And that was all Saturn had to say about it. He wanted to annoy a freight train while it was barreling down the track that was his deal. Frankly the kid made him want to laugh sometimes, a rare thing indeed.

Mars attention was concentrated on one of two women Isabel in notedly less than what she typically was and his lovely Charge, he ached for some down time to spend with the woman life had been such a whirlwind lately.

Mars held up a hand in request not wanting to simply take over, He did not now nor did he ever want to control the Order, had Abyss been Sane enough to do so he might have made a run at it. but not him."Before we move on to the the X-men, I have two things to state concerning Garret and Syn." he spoke just after boxers over there had his input " Abyss found Garret, He didn't say he was dead but I can guarntee at the very least he isn't healthy, on another note, Syn's body was not and hasn't been recovered. No morgue has identified our little sister."the slightest bit of hope rang there. The last was stated crisply. A subtle note of warning for those that might not have know how deep those ties ran.

A glance at Saturn would have told you the bitter truth of what they believed to be the truth. May Syn rest in peace.

Mars continued. "AS far as reasoning, our Very own Pluto has a very interesting take on what happened at KP, He claims that he had the most Intense and Vivid dream he had ever had, He was convinced that the future was tainted and more so ruined by our Haywire, he claims to have Killed the rest of us in that future." he waved a finger between him and Saturn signally the us that was clarified and more so confessed that he was considering destroying it himself if Garret hadn't. So I have to conclude that a mutant who can tamper with dreams either showed alot of mutants the future.Or. They saw the future that someone wanted them to see.

"And Surely we aren't ignoring the Kabal's support in this Endeavor are we? I personally think that Heads should roll for this." he looked into his right hand for a moment and softly rubbed his fingers together. "I think that we should awaken a new age, something thatgoes further than Haywire ever would have,I think that blood should flow in the streets and our enemies as they have named them selves should be humbled before us." The last was spoken quietly, but volume was made up for with a dark intensity.

He waved. And smiled. Deeeeefinitely not Slate. Slate was not too happy last Lori saw him in the wreckage of his Canteen. Lori kept her own counsel about that. No reason to boast that Slate had screwed up and gone and killed himself and she had to fix that... unless she had really knocked something loose in his brain somewhere in the fixing. That was still a possibility.

Lori resisted the urge to meet the red eyes she felt on her person. It could e her imagination. She wasn't going to gaze at him like a lovesick girl. Because she was not. She had an agenda here. For his sake, maybe, but it was still an agenda and it could deliciously be interpreted as her own ambition.

The food came round and Lori wasn't all that hungry with so much hanging in the balance. She was really close here. She just had to get the ideas across. She was confident that the others would agree with her. After all, it was a wicked plan and these were very wicked people. Lori grabbed only safe things: bread, dry meat, broccoli. She took nothing that had even the remote chance of dripping sauce on her.

The not-Slate Slate took the supplied pants. With every shred of moxy he used it as a pillow and then got a whole heap of pants dumped on him. Lori's shoulders shook in silent laughter. But the not-Slate wasn't done. While Isabel spoke, mentioning Garrett specifically, Lori pat Sebastian's hand next to her kindly. The man may never know that she'd cleared the way for him to reenter Isabel's good graces and it didn't matter. As long as he continued to help them all was well. A group of miscreants couldn't get too far without a healer.

Not-Slate spoke up and it took a lot to keep from outright offering him a high five. Yeees. The wicked witch was dead. And Mars answered the question of what had happened to good ol' Traitor McGee. Lori did smile at him for that. Results.

As for the question of who was in charge of the order? It was too indelicate a time to wrest full control. More than likely it would come gradually before any of them really realized. Mars' description of Pluto's dream was interesting. It was good to know Pluto had betrayal in his heart now. Lori had no such dream. She didn't care to put too much stock in dreams anyway.

"The previous regime's faith in Haywire was misplaced. It was a flawed plan to be sure. As for the Kabal's involvement... we could always just tear down more of their building." Lori smiled sweetly to Mars. Maybe none of the people in this room knew about Lori's last visit to the Kabal, but after her performance at KP, it wasn't too hard to imagine her tearing down a whole building. "I don't think it wise to dwell on revenge. The time for that will come. For now, I agree we focus on a course that will supersede Haywire's threat."

She was aware that she'd been talking for a while now, but it was a perfect time to introduce a new plan. "When I first came here, Abyss told me that it didn’t matter what trouble I was in, as long as I could get through those golden doors, I was home free. I think that's a good policy, but why barricade the doors when we could take the streets?" It was a very simple idea. Mars had even laid the ground work for her to introduce it.

"I think it’s time we kick it old school. The businesses and the residential area known as Brooklyn is smack in the middle between KP and the Sanctuary. It's practically ours already. Cops don't darken our door, Isabel has seen to that. We could sell Mutant Insurance and have the people fund their own control. Use the money to grease the right wheels. Humans can stay in Brooklyn as long as they're willing to pay for it. If they outright refuse us… well, we can’t be responsible for the damages their property may sustain." Another very simple idea customized for the Order's style.

Meld remained quiet and watchful as people continued to file into the room, committing each face and name to memory. Calley, Mars and Aura she knew and to them she gave a polite nod. To Aura, who she considered to be one of very few actual friends, she even gave a smile of greeting. Despite Calley's antics, now was not to time, in Meld's opinion, for being friendly and casual. Or perhaps that was only because she was still so horribly haunted by what Haywire had done to her and what it had forced her to do. Even the fleeting smile towards Aura had felt forced an unnatural. There had been a time when she had smiled naturally, hadn't there? She couldn't remember the last time she had actually laughed.

Following the trend of introductions Meld introduced herself as well. "For those of you who don't know me, I'm Meld." Her voice was cold and dead, lifeless. It didn't contain its usual strength or the undercurrents of conviction, it merely was. It was so difficult to get herself to feel anything, she felt empty inside as if Haywire had drained her of everything that she was. She couldn't even bring herself to hope that what she was would return to her.

Meld had only met Garrett once, shortly after she had joined The Order. Knowing very little about the man she couldn't' say if his traitorous actions were truly startling or not, though it was distressing to note that someone so high up in The Order had been allowed to commit such actions. Or at least, she knew that it should have been distressing. Nor did she know Syn by anything but name though she supposed she should have felt distressed by her death as well. After all Syn was, at least in name, supposed to be their leader. Not that she had ever seemed like much of a leader to Meld. Her mind felt disconnected.

"Haywire should never have been allowed to happen." For the first time this night, the first time since the events at KP really, Meld felt something, felt the passion and conviction that had become her constant companions throughout life. Her voice was heavy with conviction and judgement. "We need a new age, a new era of mutants but we do not need Haywire. It should have been destroyed. No, it never should have been created to begin with. Its existence was..." She couldn't even think of an appropriate word, and appropriate description for the atrocity that Haywire was. She met the gaze and held it of any who might seek to contradict her words, not caring that she might, with those opinions, alienate herself from those who held rank in The Order. She was right and, as with all her convictions, she was not willing to bend what she believed in, not even for the organization she had dedicated her life to.

The room filed in slowly but surely. Food was brought out and everybody enjoyed the meal… The chicken was a little over cooked but it was better than all the fast food Gore had been eating in the past weeks. Once dinner was over the meeting began. And this was something new for him. Usually Gore was invited to the briefing for actions to come not to actually have a say in the way things could be changing.

He briefly zoned out slowly tasting the sweet wine that sat in front of him till he heard some disturbing news…Syn had been killed. How could this be? He questioned himself. He was never to close with anybody here but anybody that walked through those golden doors had a natural bond with Syn…she was the order.

As the conversation went on the talks of revenge and what should be done started to pass the table. Part of his mind was still lost to the fact there was a traitor in the order and the fact they lost their leader. Then a rather attractive women a few chairs down started to mention idea’s about taking the streets something Gore knew all too much about.

"I think it’s time we kick it old school. We’re smack in the middle of these businesses…if they outright refuse us… well, we can’t be responsible for the damages their property may sustain." She said as a smile crossed over his face. But before he could inject another member felt she had something to say. As she talked about the Haywire virus he just let it go in one ear and out the other.

As this Meld looked at the members of the order Gore felt this was his time to say his piece. He reached across his chest pulling the handkerchief out his pocket and running it across his bald head. He briefly looked across the table and took a deep breath “Well I hate to break it to you but if I’m correct Haywire is finished. I can tell you feel strongly about this but, arguing if bringing Haywire into this world aint gonna change the fact that it lead up to these actions.” Pausing briefly he turned his attention to Lori, who until today had no idea who she was… “What is taking the streets going to do? You already said it we already own these streets! Turning scared and useless mutants out on the streets isn’t gonna do anything but taking mine, yours and everybody else’s time cleaning up there mistakes! Your right greasing few wheels will make things run easier but the problem is the Mansion. For everyone of us there is 5 more of them living in the opening ready to protect these human… And deep down majority of these people don’t mind. But what we need to do is cut them numbers… Cut the support that they have, and then they wont be no issue. But till we do something about their numbers were gonna continue to have our greased wheels all screwed up.” He said as he relit his Cigar. He felt pleased. This was a new look for him and he liked the new Gore sure he could break necks but he was ready to show that he could sit at the big table and be just as useful.

Pants. One pair of pants, a great pillow made. A dropped stack of pants? Of uncountable use. There was the pants napkin politely spread across his lap; the pants cushion folded softly under his derriere; the pants stack under his outstretched legs. Saturn. Now there was a clone who knew how to treat a teen.

>> "AS far as reasoning, our Very own Pluto has a very interesting take on what happened at KP, He claims that he had the most Intense and Vivid dream he had ever had, He was convinced that the future was tainted and more so ruined by our Haywire, he claims to have Killed the rest of us in that future."

A blink, followed by a simply raised hand. “Count me in on the dream train. Not so much the caring about Haywire either way, though. I just wanted to maul some X-Men.” In a literal sense. And it had been quite satisfying, thank you for asking.

As for the Kabal’s involvement: a clear meh showed on his face. He kept eating his synfully celebratory cake. Yeah, it might raise all kinds of odd ethical, moral, and philosophical questions if he let the Order go after Slate. But Slate was a big boy now. He was even out of his training body.

There was not many outward signs of listening as Lori spoke. There was, after all, green Jell-O. It had waited so patiently for him while he finished his cake. How could he possibly deny its wibbling, soulless gaze? Likewise, Meld’s speech: he flagged down a member of the kitchen staff, bearing bread. Bread. It made the sudden sickening sugary aftertaste in the back of his mouth somewhat less ominous. And he’d already mehed his piece about Haywire: meh.

Gore, though. That came at the end of his bread. He’d temporarily exhausted the food supply within easy reach. Therefore, he spoke.

>> “What is taking the streets going to do? You already said it we already own these streets! Turning scared and useless mutants out on the streets isn’t gonna do anything but taking mine, yours and everybody else’s time cleaning up there mistakes! Your right greasing few wheels will make things run easier but the problem is the Mansion...”

“The lady said you own the Sanc, and barricade the lovely doors when trouble knocks, if I recall.” Calley corrected, dabbing at his lips with a pair of pants. “There’s a bit of a difference between owning the streets through an organized effort and randomly stabbing people because you somehow think it’s a good idea. ‘Whoo, mutant rights’—stab.” This was acted out, halfheartedly, with a used butter knife. “Not to imply that any of you randomly stab people.” Man, that would be a silly thing to do. The butter knife got set back down.

He looked to Lori. “I’m kinda getting a mafia vibe, right? Organizing the violence, and getting a bit of tax free income out of it, for to make with the payola to your local government officials? I like. That’d probably be a lot more beneficial than gleefully slaughtering the police force for no particular reason. Not to say that any of you are cop killers.” Really, who could sleep at night with that on their conscience?

Back to the Gore-man. “The X’s. They suck. Seriously. You think they’re an enemy? They go back after their little dress up missions and do homework. Seriously. The only reason they can hold their own against all of you is because you suck as bad—” Oh my, was he really going to finish that sentence? Naw. This table’s crew pretty much finished it for him.

Calley readjusted his pants pillow. “So yeah. I’m Calley, for anyone who didn’t know. Former Kabal-type guy, former X-Men-dealie, currently invited to your dinner party.” He cleared his throat, and let someone else take the floor. “Err, nice food.” After that last bit.