MasterMind

Quentin turned to see who was speaking to him. Share? He immediately curled his lip. It was only when he realized that he could not immediately probe into the man’s mind that he looked a little more closely. Mutant? Metahuman? Some annoying human who’d managed to put up a decent mental block like Captain America?

He was curious, so he screwed the top back in the flask and tossed it toward him. “Don’t put your mouth on it,” he instructed before it had time to land in the man’s hand.

He smiled at the younger man, it was a safe bet he was a mutant or meta and young minds were often the most easy to edge towards more violence. “You’re too kind.” he said lightly, easily catching the flask and lifting it to his lips, not touching the rim as he poured a generous amount down his throat. “Well that’s good stuff. Shame I didn’t bring my cigars.”

“There is no worry about asking my age.” Thor assured the man with a smile and nodded. “Roughly fifteen hundred years old, give or take a few. Young by Asgardian standards, of course.” He responded before listened to the man’s words. He made a solid point. “Yes, I suppose this is reminiscent of other conflicts throughout history that I can recall. I do not extensively know the history of mankind - you see, I only came to Earth to mess around with my brother Loki every now and then; or on specific orders from Father - it wasn’t until quite recently I began visiting freely and took a higher interest in Earthly activity.” Thor explained casually.

“Democracy..” Thor chuckled lightly at the word. “What a weird way to handle your leadership. Ah well, to each their own I suppose.” He waved the matter aside before listening as Jason explained his interest in history. “Well, perhaps history will take a turn for the better this time around.” Thor said hopefully.

Jason chuckled a little, the words causing more envy in him than he’d have liked, “To live that long and still be considered young. It boggles the mind.” If only there was a way to take that kind of power for himself. Given his illusions he would always look and feel young, but in the end they were still lies. “Ahh, well we’ve had a great many in our time. Humans really are masters of destruction, more so than any animal could ever content with.” he paused a moment then nodded, “Oh yes, the famous Loki. I would be interested to see how your exploits match up with our legends of your behaviour. But that would be a conversation for a less volatile time.”

“People are so confusing sometimes.” Thor stated with a small breath as he took up a position leaning nearby. “I mean, I get the whole protesting thing - I mean, Asgard can be vocal as well.” Thor explained casually. He wasn’t the type to ever think ‘hiding’ where he was from was really necessary. The world, for the most part, knew who he was anyway. “Yet, if we had any major problems - we usually settled them through battle or my Father just put his foot down and people obeyed.” He said. “Don’t you people have someone like that? What about this President of yours? Can’t they just say ‘this is how things are’ and end all this nonsense?” Thor questioned.

“You are correct about it being a winning-less position, Jason Wyngarde.” He stated and sighed once more. “A curator of history, eh? That doesn’t seem like such a bad title to have.” He remarked with a smile.

“Ahh, only to those who don’t see how often they repeat themselves.” he said wit a little chuckle, “If I may be so bold, Mr. Odin-son, you are likely a great deal older than you appear, hmm?” he questioned, “If you’ve seen how humanity’s behaved in the past then this may not be so difficult to understand. It seems we never learn from our past and thus we repeat it.” It was chaotic and (so long as he kept himself on the outside) rather enjoyable. “This is but a battle all its own. One that might become violent with one mistimed action.“ he looked over and chuckled, “Despite evidence to the contrary we are still a democracy, the will of the people must be heard. Even when it’s disjointed and chaotic.

Thor shot a look at the elder man when he spoke and just slowly shook his head. “There are better ways to fight for the things that are important to you. What good does it do anyone to gather outside a building; clog up the streets; and yell at one another about whether or not a group of people deserve to be ‘people’ or not?” Thor questioned with a frown.

“I sincerely hope you are wrong, my friend.” Thor stated as the man commented on his worries about the protests. “I did not come here intending to fight anyone. I would hate to have to get involved in yet another debacle to protect humanity.” He stated with a sigh. “Where are my manners? Thor.” He offered a hand to the stranger. Even in times like this, there was time for civility. 

Jason, pretending to be more frail than he truly was, slowly walked over to a nearby sill-ledge and sat on it, letting out a small sigh, “Oh that’s what people have been doing for centuries, millennia even. And most times it doesn’t seem to make a different. But it makes them think they’re making a difference and really that’s half the purpose of the whole affair.”

Mortals and their protesting. At least this time, Thor understood where the argument was stemming. He himself was rather torn on the matter after having heard Magneto’s explanation for his attack on the NOVA facility. He could not favor one side over the other in the matter - but what he could stand against was the opposition’s crowd demanding that these ‘mutants’ and ‘metahumans’ did not belong or have a place among them.

No matter how much Thor tried to reason with both sides - whether expressing his disapproval with how many people Magneto had killed in his attack; or expressing a sympathy for having your people and those similar to you held captive by a questionable organization - the shouting continue to rise in a clamor around him. To make matters worse, sections of the crowd had began demanding Thor - as a public figure of reputation - throw his support completely one way or the other.

Finally having enough, the Asgardian broke away from the crowds to a (slightly) quieter, more centralized area that many other individuals had gathered around to take a more neutral assessment of the crowds. The blonde ran a stressed hand over his face, through his long locks and slowly shook his head.

”This is quickly becoming a display of madness instead of any sort of organized rallying…” He groaned.

Jason was happier sitting back and watching, this was a glorious chaotic say that he suspected was only just getting started. He’d foregone his usual illusion of a younger self and strolled along with his true age on display. The benefit of being a little older was that you tended to be overlooked. He made his way though the protests for a better view of the impending explosion when he came another who’d also backed away, though likely for different reasons.

“Yes isn’t it just.“ he tutted quietly, easily falling into a role, “Young people so full of energy on both sides. I do worry this may end in a much larger confrontation.”

The early parts with the chanting and the signs and the people showing up with their kids and grandmothers and who the fuck ever were so dull. Quentin had his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket as he stood near the outside edge of the protest crowd.

Across the way, he could see a sign that said GENE TRASH that looked like it had been written by a seven year old and not the grown man holding it. “Points for correct spelling,” he said aloud before whipping a silver flask out of his pocket. It was personalized with the letter Q in a pink that matched his hair.

Jason didn’t bother hiding in his younger form, his true self was the visage he mostly kept in the city. Though he made sure to hold back from the front of the protests, he knew how those in authority loved expanding their power at the slightest provocation. He didn’t come back from near death only to be shot in some protest.

Hartley almost felt his face give way as the only man actually complimented him. He knew he was good looking, but it was always nice for someone else to say it. Hartley watched him place the card on the counter, noting the expensive-looking restaurant listed. He picked it up, and flipped it over, trying his best to look bored. “Like I said, i’ll think about it.” He said, his mind already made up. 

Hartley watched as the other man walked out the door, as he pocketed his card. The next few session flew by quickly, with Hartley never not thinking of Jason, and what he told him. The villain career, for all it’s ups and downs, was a large part of his life. But there was always the risk of going back his jail. His parents were just starting to talk to him again, and even if he didn’t crave their approval after they cut him off, it was nice to pretend that everything was normal. But this high risk venture was exciting, and before he knew it, he was at the restaurant listed on the card, in his nicest clothes, feeling like an idiot. Hartley was slightly too early, and to save himself from looking too eager, had decided to sit outside.

Jason looked over at the other, he was very good at reading people, before his powers had become powerful enough to keep him safe he’d needed to know what he could and couldn’t get from a person by their reactions. “You’ve already thought about it.” he answered lightly, “And we both know what you’ll be doing.” He said before he left; this little endeavour of his was going to be fun.  

Damian rolled his eyes - though his mask made it a little hard to tell. All of the man’s remarks were grating on his patience – but ‘Robin’ didn’t go around knocking the crap out of civilians that irritated him. Instead, Damian turned back to his laptop and began preparing it to shutdown and be packed away. “I don’t sing, so good on you for having a talent.” He remarked back. “I may be a walking cliche, but there is a reason I’m so “angry” all the time. You really should meet Batman if you call what I do ‘brooding’.” He stated, looking back over his shoulder.

Hartley wanted to ask about the whole ‘deathbed’ situation, but he didn’t want to know anything more about Jason than he had to. Even if he wanted to, by some stretch of the imagination, he could just ask him at dinner. Which, Hartley realized with a jolt, he was actually considering.

“I live in a shitty apartment a few blocks away which this job pays for.” Harley explained. He knew rich people well, that kind of well-off where they never had to consider where their next meal came from, or if they were going to have a roof over their head the next night. Even if Hartley used to be like that, before getting cut off, it still drove him insane that there were still people like that.    

“…fine. You’re after something, and I think we both know what it is, but we can play dumb and cute and coy for the time being.” Hartley said as he leaned in close, just a breadth away. “Dinner sounds lovely. Did you happen to drop the name of the place?”

“That’s nice to know. I’ve got a few different hidey-holes scattered about, force of habit to help me feel safe.” Something surprisingly honest of him to say but since they both knew so little about one another he didn’t mind letting that little tidbit slide out.

“I have my reasons, that is true. But one of them really is only to have a dinner with a good looking guy. The rest will come out by the time we hit the main course.” he joked. Jason had his little speech already planned out since he’d already visited a few others in the city that he thought could be putting their talents to better use, not for himself, not to be a leader of them. Only because he wanted to see the havoc it would cause.

“No, I didn’t.” he reached into a pocket and with a flourish produced a small reservation card for a high-end restaurant with a time and address on it. “This should be more than enough for you.” he placed it on the counter with a wink, “See you later Hartley. Feel free to dress up for the occasion.”  

Anton knew something of the sort. He supposed he got that from his Father, now that he knew what sort of angel he really was. Appearances were useful, but they were nothing without power to back them up. He rolled his eyes. “You can never be too sure these days who might stab you in the back. I prefer the privacy.”

Someone knew him? Someone alive? That worried Anton, definitely did, but there wasn’t a lot that he could do in the moment. He didn’t know what kind of power the other was packing, so he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to slip inside his mind to find an answer. That might have to wait. “You had someone spy on me?” He asked, incredulous and a little irritated, though he was intrigued all the same.

At the last comment, Anton grinned wide and stretched out his arms to either side of him. “Well, here I am. What did you want to chat about?”

“Oh you never need to worry about that with me, I’ll make sure to stab you in the front, and you never know, you might even like it.” he added with a smirk. Given his abilities he could waltz right up almost any one he wanted, knife in hand and thrust it into their chest without them noticing a thing. “Several others have.”

“Hmm, nothing so detrimental, more than researched a reputation or two then made a few observations for my benefit.” he said, waving a hand slightly as though it didn’t really matter. “I’ve no evil intentions. Like I said, simple man.” he smirked at the other’s posturing, “Well, were I a younger man I’d desire a more... thorough inspect.” he said, knowing his words contrasted his youthful appearance.

“I could not be further from caring whether or not you find me exciting.” Erik wasn’t concerned with pleasing people, least of all th man across from him. He’d never measured his life by how many were riveted by it. 

The people who needed to know the first steps he meant to take already knew them. It would not be subtle, but it would be contained, and he meant to keep utter control over it. When it blossomed into something bigger (and it would - it always did) then perhaps Jason could be of use to him again after all. “You’ll know when you need to know. Now please,” he said the word yet left it devoid of politeness, “finish your drink and get out of my house.”

“You don’t care about much of anything in regards to me do you?” he said with a smirk, though, on some level he didn’t want to admit, he’d hoped the other would be a little more pleased to see him. They’d been allies once upon a time, even if things were so very different now, the past had still happened.

Hartley breathed out harshly through his nose. With the way the other man was sizing him up, Hartley knew exactly what the other man was probably asking for. And he wasn’t that desperate, yet. And he wasn’t that sure he wanted to abandon all he had worked for. Normalcy was nice. Boring, extremely boring, but nice.

“That’s vague as hell. I’m trying not to hard any association with my family, you people coming in and trying to muck that up is making that very hard on me.” Hartley said, his face twitching. “We have couches here. We can go sit in the back. I don’t know why you’re so adamant about getting me to leave my job. I don’t even know who you are.” He couldn’t say the offer seemed bad. Hart’s brief stint in Blackgate had put some fear in him, and made him swear off villany for good. But… it was a nice thought.

Hartley looked at the card. then back at the other man. “I can go with you and risk me ending back up in jail. Or stay here and not go to jail.” Hartley sighed as he looked at the card. “I can’t promise i’ll go. But i’ll think about it.” 

The other was thinking so very hard, about what exactly he couldn’t be sure but suffice to say he had Hartley’s attention and was pushing more than a few of his buttons, “That’s purposeful, I’m trying to get your attention and curiosity after all.” he admitted with a shrug, no sense in being coy with that aspect of their meeting.

“Sometimes we’ve got to endure more difficult things for happiness. I had to wait till I was on my deathbed until I achieved my peace.” he added casually, just a few more little morsels to try and garner attention. “You don’t live here do you?” he asked frowning, “You hardly need to quit, just finish a shift so I’ve an excuse to go out for a nice meal,” he chuckled, “Besides, isn’t that how the kids do it these days? Dinner and a proposal?” He gestured with a hand and smirked, “Jason Wyngarde. There’s one thing crossed off your little list, ehh?”

“Or, you could come and speak with me, decide you’re not interested and go back about your life with a good meal for your troubles.” he said with a smirk, “No one said anything about prison, no one even said anything about crime.” Not yet anyway.