(no subject)
Not quite as snazzily dressed as he was yesterday, Erik is typically together all the same - light grey trousers offset by the darker smoke of his dress shirt, with wire-rimmed reading glasses pushed into place rather than a fedora. Left hand tapping idly at his laptop, the right is scrawling lazily through printed notes and news stories.
Bella is beyond excited. Amongst the chickens and personal items brought back to the Island, Bella's new uniform was finally delivered. As soon as she arrived it was thrown on and she took off towards Erik's office. A knock, brief, as the door is being pushed open before bright eyes lead Bella into the room. "Hi!" There's something different about her today, something distinctly.. metalic. But her outfit seems entirely composed of spandex, so what could it be?
"Bella--" Oh, hello there, spandex. Erik's eyes lift stubbornly back to her face. "The purpose of knocking is generally to allow the individual indoors to provide permission to enter, or deny it in the event that he happens to be busy." All the same, he reaches to tug his glasses down off the bridge of his nose, curiosity briefly prompting his eyes to narrow back over the uniform.
Bella watches his eyes struggle with a self satisfied smirk and makes it just a little bit harder by adding an extra sway to her hips. "Your door is locked, or won't budge when you're busy." She states with a shrug of her shoulders as she slinks around the desk, leaning back against it to give him a close up view. The closer she gets, the stronger the metallic pull. And it seems to be lining the length of her body. "Curious?"
"If you're going to inform me either way I might as well simply say 'yes' and get it over with." His glasses click down to the desk. Then his pen, as he settles back into his chair and folds his arms across his chest, brows lifted in expectation.
"Well then you should have just simply said it." Bella says with that innocent smile she's quickly becoming fond of whenever he's around. "You see, about two months I realized that whenever we work together, you have to lower yourself to the ground in order to deposit me somewhere. Wouldn't it just be easier if you could lower me from where you are and continue on your way?" She asks, brows arching. "Or do controlled drops down on unsuspecting prey? Or even just giving me an extra boost in a jump without having to do anything more than flick your wrist?" She asks, smile brightening as she runs her fingers down her sides. "Spandex, lined with metallic threading. So it's comfortable, flexible enough for me to move in, and yet.. there's enough metal here for you to work with when you need to."
"Theoretically it would be easier to simply drop you." Erik points out smoothly, expression changing little as she goes through and explains herself more completely. Slowly, once she's finished, his right hand lifts, elbow propped lazily upon its respective armrest. Less slowly (abruptly, really) his fingers splay open, slightly curled - and if Bella has been telling the whole truth, she should be forced into an instantaneous and potentially uncomfortable life-sized reproduction of the Vitruvian Man.
"Theoretically. But then I'd be grumpy with you and that's never any fun." Bella states and watches his expression. She'd figure he would test out the suit, but really. "Honestly Erik." she growls as her arms and legs are shot out to her sides. "Couldn't you have chosen a more comfortable position?" Seems she was telling the truth.
"Perhaps you should have dyed it black, in the event I do drop you and something ruptures." Magneto intones, not quite able to smother a chuckle at the ease with which it actually /works/. Her feet lifting a bare inch or two off the ground, Erik rotates her over slowly, as if she's positioned in a giant wheel, and keeps talking. "Really, Bella, you cannot expect me to be on constant alert for your sake in the thick of every battle. I may be able to provide the occasional boost, but I do have an entire faction to look after."
"You're an ass. You know that right?" she asks as that long hair tumbles down around her face as she begins to turn. Despite her words, she's smirking. Well atleast he's having fun with it. "Don't get me wrong dear. I don't expect you to be constantly keeping an eye on me. This is for the ease of both of us. After all, if we're in a fight and you're about to get hit by something you wouldn't heal you could just gesture and pull me in front of it. Tada, instant shield." Because she'll heal it. Generally. She thought it was useful.
"Mmm...Sabella Miller, projectile weapon extraordinaire. It's a terrible pity we're busy attempting to save Mutantkind from humanity. I can only imagine the profits we would bring in as a private circus." Setting her back down only once she's completed a full turn, Erik releases his hold as he usually does - while she's still a few inches above the ground.
"No really." Bella continues as she drops onto her feet as graceful as any feline could ever manage. "An ass." She brushes off her arms before sniffing, dignified, a motion stolen from him of course before settling back against the desk, careful not to disturb anything. "And what do we need profits for? My company brings in quite enough." A curious glances to his desk. "So.. whatcha workin' on?"
"Yes, my dear. An ass. I did hear you the first time." He was simply ignoring her, just as he ignores her attempt at dignity - left hand reaching around her to pull his papers back within easy reach. "Merely keeping an eye on the news."
Bella offers a wicked grin. "I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page." And with his selective hearing she wanted to make sure that one got through. "Oh. Anything interesting?" She asks and remains where she is, making him reach around. "OHOH! Anything about me? Err, Jezabella?"
"The news in relation to Washington, Bella. I haven't the time to pick through every tabloid on the market for mention of your mainland misadventures." Erik returns dryly, casting a glance up at her before he reaches back for his pen as well.
His pen is nowhere to be found. In fact, as he looks to Bella, he can see it rolling through two of her fingers. She winks, leans in to kiss his cheek and presses it into his hand. Sneaky woman. "Well I didn't expect you meant tabloids. But there might be mention of me in the business section." Defensive. "Anything new on the MRA?"
Magneto's brows knit faintly when his fingers curl over a blank span of desk where his pen /was/, suspicious eyes flicking back over onto Bella, so that they roll slightly when she leans in and hands it over - shoulders resettling somewhat as he looks back down to try to find his place again. "A filibuster."
Bella laughs at his reaction. She has sticky fingers and he really shouldn't expect anything different. "Filibuster?" She asks and turns slowly so that she's actually facing the desk, able to look down to the top of it in hopes of catching sight of whatever article he's reading at the moment.
"Mmm - five Democrats, two Republicans, on the floor speaking out against Manditory Mutant Registration for convicted criminals and the like..." Glasses are held up but not actually put back on - a drawer grated open with a thought so that they can be swept in and out of the way before he turns the page. "Rather a mess, really. There's an interesting recipe for whiskey-barbecued chicken in the transcript if you're interested."
"Are you asking him to define it for you?" From the doorway, amusement echoes through Mystique's voice. The shapeshifter settles herself just inside, leaning back against the frame with arms folded across her chest while yellow eyes take in the pair of them. They shift firmly to Magneto. "On the subject, Erik," she continues. "Do you have a moment?" And hi, how are you, back on the island in case you missed it.
"Is it a mess we'll be cleaning up?" Bella asks, tone serious for a moment. But the serious expression is wiped clean by the mention of chickens. "Thank you dear, but I like my chickens raw." A glance up at the rustle by the doorway, eyes landing on Mystique with disdain. "I was." So what? Eyes back down to the paper as the blue woman is ignored and she goes back to reading. Or attempting to.
A few lazy key taps later, Erik has pulled up dictionary.com's definition of 'filibuster' and left the window open in clear and easy view for Bella, should she be so inclined to look back to him long enough to notice - the laptops' back turned to Mystique in the doorway. "I suppose so. On both counts." Yes, he has a moment, and yes, he has every intention of cleaning it up, a wary glance cast between both women as he clicks his pen closed, then open. Closed. Open.
Mystique manages to keep her response to Sabella to a mild smirk as she pushes herself away from the doorframe to cross the room toward the desk. "I didn't have an easy time getting away," she offers, dropping herself into a chair and crossing her legs with smooth movements. "And they'll expect me back by tomorrow. Washington is a bit... busy, at the moment. Can we be ready by then?"
Bella does look to Erik for just a moment, brows arching before her gaze slips from him to the computer, briefly smiling at his consideration. "Ah." she nods and seems to understand now. The pen earns a glare. When you can hear all the parts inside turning and twisting it makes constant clicking that much more annoying. Ready? What's Bella not been told about? The woman straightens, fingers resting on top of the desk, waiting expectantly for Erik's answer. Or perhaps some sort of explanation. Out of the loop is not a place she likes to be.
Magneto's left index finger trails across the mouse guide integrated into the keyboard - a single tap closing out the window as his cool gaze shifts easily from Bella at his side to Mystique before him. "I will have Mortimer postpone any other projects in favor of this one. I trust that he will have something for you by morning, so long as he stays sober. What does your recommended timeframe look like?"
Mystique leans back, languidly, and steeples her fingers together in her lap. "They filibuster because they know the outcome," she answers. "If we take care of that... well." A small, satisfied smile creeps across her lips, and her eyes spare a glance for Sabella. "The paper trail is in place. I'm ready to move as soon as I have the means."
Bella is doing little more than standing there, fingers digging slightly into the hard surface of the desk and looking down to Erik. So Toad /and/ Mystique know about something that she doesn't. Well isn't that just sweet. Her expression doesn't change as she remains quiet, piecing together the conversation in hopes of figuring it out for herself.
Cool blue-grey slides faintly and a little hesitantly aside, the tension around the fingers Bella has digging into his desk not going unnoticed as he resettles uncomfortably, right hand lifting to work at the buttons of his collar. Where was he, again? Oh, yes. "Good."
Mystique's view is not quite as good, but keen observation makes note of the still posture, if nothing else. Her gaze flicks back to Erik. Her smirk turns expectant. Perhaps a hint of impatient. 'Good' is hardly an enlightening answer. "By Wednesday, then?" she seeks to clarify.
Bella's fangs have extended by this point so that her tongue can press up against one. Mystique is not the only one showing faint signs of impatience. Erik's shifting draws her attention more fully. Cool, green flickers to the button then back to Erik's gaze. Still waiting. It isn't like she can interrupt, she has /no/ idea what's going on.
"If not sooner." His own glare hardening a bit against the looks he seems to be getting from all angles, now, Erik's jaw stiffens somewhat as he reaches back for the laptop. "Give me a moment, and..." A black entry screen brought up and typed into, Erik breaks off just long enough to fire off a hasty message to Toad (something along the lines of 'In my office now, with whatever progress you've made towards the weaponized pen.') - ring finger pounding down on the 'enter' key to send it off before he looks back up once more. "We shall see exactly where we stand at this point in time."
Mystique's foot twitches, and there's pure impatience, tightly restrained, written in the tension of her form now. "I'll make certain it's traced to me," she responds, shifting subjects slightly. "Is there any message in particular you'd like attached? Memoirs left behind for the diligent press to salivate over?" Her smirk returns, deeply amused at the thought.
Bella looks down, watching Erik's fingers as he types out the message to Toad. She doesn't actually need to see the screen, she can get the basic gist of what was said simply by watching his fingers. Of course it takes a few seconds as her mind breaks down the placements of the keys. So there's a pen, that's a weapon that's going to the senate where Mystique will be posing as someone. And that's all she has so far. Still, there is nothing but silence from her direction.
Well, he had to throw mud over the hole he was drilling and swallow the wire he was dragging, but once he got that beep from his pager, Toad knew he had to go check his mail. Only one person has his email address so when there's a message, he knows he better answer. Pens? Pff. A quick dust-off of a special briefcase he's had sitting in a corner of his room, and Toad is soon knocking on Magneto's door. He's got his goggles over his eyes and is wearing a black wifebeater along with his usual pair of boots and cargo pants. Looks like he's been crawling in some rather filthy areas and made no effort to clean himself up.
Magneto exhales what very closely resembles a small sigh of relief at the knock, a flat look spent for Mystique's poorly suppressed impatience before a low, "Come in." is called across the office - the door still cracked open from the pair that's already entered. "I'm sure you'll think of something suitably dramatic on your own." Another glance to Bella, and finally, to Mortimer's suitcase, and Erik grates the heavy metal of his chair back to stand. Too many people in his office. /Far/ too many with higher vantage points than him. Not anymore.
Mystique remains sitting, unconcerned. Toad provides a welcome distraction from any remarks concerning the dramatic -- well. Toad provides a distraction, at least, as his filthy state is met with a dry (impatient) look before she shifts round to study his briefcase silently. Fun toys for her?
Bella's gaze flashes to Toad for a moment, nose wrinkling at the overt smell of mud. Oh gross. The grinding of a chair and Erik is suddenly standing beside her. Aww, and she was actually feeling tall for once. But no longer. The irritation that threatens to bubble over the surface is currently ignored as instead the metal briefcase claims her attention.
Never fear, Toad is here! The mighty have never looked so grimy, eh? Still, he enters the room after kicking some loose mud off his boots at the entrance. His approach to the desk is trailed with footprints that can't be helped, but at least the suitcase is clean, set down on the steel and opened immediately. Its contents: Pens. All of them, fancy, stylish, different in color and shape. Ballpoint, some with caps and some with buttons for retracting the tip. They all look suitable for use in an office setting, but don't let that fool you. Each one has a similar method for delivering a varied degree of illness and/or death. "W'ot's y'pleasure?"
Magneto's own nostrils flare slightly at the state of Toad. Or, more specifically, the state of his floor in Toad's wake, though the worst of his immediate distaste is successfully smothered by the fact that he's working to distract Bella and Mystique as well as he might have hoped. At his question, no answer is given - merely an expectant look to the shapeshifting mutant in front of his desk.
Mystique turns again, and she unfolds herself to lean forward with an interested, practiced gaze that studies the pens intently. The eye of a professional. "Powerful," she answers Toad. "Enough to get the whole floor, if possible. If not... as much as you're able. No lasting effects." She pauses to smirk, a flick of yellow eyes toward Magneto. "We don't want to actually kill off the entire Senate. Although I'm not going to shed tears if we lose a frailer member or two. We /do/ want to make them very, very scared. And force them to lose that soapbox."
Bella almost gasps as the suitcase is opened. Almost. Though her eyes do light up like a child's on Christmas. Oh she wants one! Slender fingers have actually moved from the rim of the desk and started reaching before she remembers herself and the hand falls back to it's previous position. "You've been holding out on me." Nope, surprisingly that wasn't directed towards Magneto who'll be receiving that particular talk /later/. It was directed towards Toad, who's earned a bright eyed look from the woman.
Toad smirks at Bella, though with his eyes hidden she doesn't get that 'You didn't ask, so you didn't receive' look that he's giving off. Then he tilts his head at Mystique. "'Ow big's the floor? 'Ow many d'you want t'kill? An' the rest, 'ow sick d'you want 'em?" Mmm, specifics. There's a pen in that case for most instances, and if one doesn't fit, they're all very easily calibrated.
Magneto knows he's going to get a talk, which could be why his mouth falls open to protest immediately at Bella's comment - only to close again once he follows her line of sight to Toad. Steeling himself a little against making another similar assumption in the presence of this particular trio, Erik is quick to answer Toad regardless of whether or not the question was directed at him. "I'd like the main speaker dead, with those nearest him suffering but not necessarily passing away. The agent needs to be fast acting and irreversible - preferably some sort of nerve gas."
Mystique pauses for Magneto's directions, and settles back into her seat, lounging and lazy. Her head gives a short, quiet nod, and then she rattles off a list of dimensions. The Senate floor, length, width, and height. "And I," she adds dryly, "Will need to be able to remove myself before the gas goes off."
Bella gives Toad a look that screams the fact that she'll be asking later, a slow, fanged smile drifting onto her features. She's distracted away from the pens once more by the sound of Erik's voice, glancing between him and Mystique as her eyes harden slightly. Oh that's right, they left her out of the loop and she's supposed to be mad at them. Well, at Erik atleast.
Toad nods once, straightening his head. Then he takes a brown, capped ballpoint pen from a specific row and indentation. A small label in the space the pen was taken from reads 'GD-004', letting him know what was there and what will need to be replaced. Before his audience, he takes the pen apart and pulls out a cartridge the size of a jellybean, then takes some tweezers from one of his many pockets and tweaks a miniscule gauge in the pen's body. The cartridge is replaced, the pen put back together, then the cap taken off. He takes a pad of yellow post-its from another pocket and signs his name with the pen to make sure it's primed. Now for the explanation. "Soman. One whiff an' y'done. Comes out the mi'dle in a quick vapor burst, soon as the ballpoint makes a certain character trail. But, the clip 'as t'be rotated once t'activate that 'idden feature." He demonstrates by turning the clip that usually keeps the pen to someone's pocket--something a clip normally doesn't do, so nobody would expect it. Then he rotates it back in the opposite direction and writes again, to show that it's unarmed. It would be a pity if he made such a mistake, causing the premature end of the Brotherhood with four prime members succumbing to Soman. "W'ot's a le'ter in the bloke's name t'go on?"
"'E.' Lowercase. But in the event that the pen is never actually lifted or used once it's been placed in position, or used prematurely by the wrong individual, I would like the option of activating it and firing via remote control. We are not going to get more than one shot at this." Erik tacks on once Mystique and Toad have each said their parts, his manner cool despite the looks he keeps getting from Bella. Business-like, in the face of creative murder.
Mystique nods, a single, clipped move made in silence. She's content enough to lounge and wait while the details are hashed out. Her work will come later.
Creative murder. Is there really any other kind? Well, yes. But it just isn't any fun. Bella understands now what the plan seems to be, enough details having been thrust in her face to figure out the big picture. But with nothing to add she, like Mystique, remains quiet.
Toad tilts his head at Magneto this time, then caps that pen and puts it back in its slot. GD-009 is taken from its space and opened up. A few tweaks here and there, then the auburn pen is set on the table. The top half of the briefcase is pulled down to reveal a hidden section containing flat, credit card-sized remote controls. Dozens of them, mimicking varying card brands. One similar to Visa Platinum is taken out and he spends some time aiming it at the pen and pressing very thin buttons installed under the card's skin. A few sequences later, both are slid within Magneto's reach. "Same principles, but the vapor comes from the back end'uv the pen. Press the silver dove square on the card an' it'll go off regardless of the clip turn."
Magneto watches patiently and attentively, the ice of his glare taking in each miniscule maneuver with latent curiosity beneath knit brows. The Isaac's Cradle filling the resulting silence along with Toad's tampering, it's with a muted chuckle that Erik lifts the card (very carefully, of course) to examine it. "Excellent work, Toad." A look to Mystique, and an arched brow, and Erik sets the card back down neatly next to the pen. "If that is all, then both of you are dismissed. I trust more specific instructions may be exchanged outside of my office. And Mortimer - if you would send up a recruit with a mop in the next two hours or so."
Mystique arches her brows in neat echo of Erik's, mimicking, and grins. "I'll be back within the week," she answers, and unfolds herself to rise with liquid smoothness from her seat. Pen and card are tucked into her hand, and both Bella and Magneto earn a short, silent nod before she moves to exit.
Bella is more impressed with Toad at this moment than she has been since the time he came to her with the nanites. And it's evident in her smile. She moves to start leaving when she realize that Erik said the 'both' not all three. Meaning she's to stay. A blink of surprise before she pauses her step and glides right back into the position she's been in all this time. Mystique's nod earns one in return before she looks back towards the case of pens.
The briefcase is closed as quickly as it was opened earlier, then taken in-hand as Toad nods once to Magneto. "Yes, sir." About-face, march! He heads out, leaving a few more tracks in his wake. Eh, he'll get that one recruit with the kicking problem to clean it up.
Magneto nods evenly back to Mystique, and then to Toad, no indication given that he caught Sabella's movement at his side. And it isn't until both of them are gone that he swings the door closed and turns to face her, shoulders and jaw already set, though his brows are lifted as if in anticipation of her having something to say.
Bella's gaze follows the others as they leave, unchanging as the door shuts. It takes a few moments for her to turn and face Erik. Unsure of what he was expecting, Bella can do little more than simply look at him, expression bland. "Thank you for not making me leave during that discussion. Was it a good reason?" She asks, trying to swallow the bitter taste in her mouth. "For not telling me I mean?" She looks.. hurt more than annoyed by this point.
"It simply wasn't important for you to know. And given the nature of the crime, I would rather not have to explain the purpose behind committing it. We are attacking those who speak in our favor." A nod is granted her thanks, and a careful look before he half-turns back towards his desk, left hand resting over a stack of papers.
"Did Toxin know?" Bella asks quietly. Trying to gauge who all knew when she didn't. Which will be directly linked to exactly how upset she feels she has the right to be over the situation. His turn is taken in stride as she remains unmoving from her position.
"I intend to brief her in the morning. You see, the fewer minds I have walking around on the mainland with this sort of information swimming around in them, the smaller the odds that someone might catch a glimpse of my intentions. Not to mention, I suspect Charles may be keeping a close eye on the Island after our last conversation." Turning his head back enough to eye her, Erik keeps his expression carefully bland and unreadable. "There is little that I do without reason."
Bella offers a slow nod at the information, her face remaining unreadable, the swirl of emotions in her eyes on the other hand show that she isn't as uncaring about it as she is attempting to be. "Does he know I'm alive?" Charles that is. For some reason she doesn't doubt that he does, but hopes that despite his feelings for her, he'll keep it to himself. "There is nothing that you do without reason." she corrects.
"I don't know." Magneto admits, brows raised as he finally moves to step around the opposite side of the desk. "If he does, he gave no indication. I believe he would have to be given a reason to suspect and make telepathic inquires accordingly...which makes it all the more important that you be on your best behavior as 'Jezabella'." Slow steps pacing across his office, Erik shrugs as his hands find their way into his pockets. "No man operates entirely off of logic."
"Would he normally have given you an indication?" Bella asks, brows knit as her arms fold self consciously across her chest. She really doesn't like the idea of people poking around in her head. She has a special loathing for telepaths by this point. "You'll be happy to know that so far I've been wonderful. I didn't even kill someone who really needed killing." Yay, self restraint! She watches as he begins to pace, tone softening somewhat. "He has you worried."
"Yes. From a moral standpoint, his 'indication' should be your immediate reincarceration, but--It's difficult to know for sure." Not the most specific or the most hopeful of answers, but an honest one, at least, as Erik reaches the far wall and turns back. "Dismissed."
"Erik." Bella gasps softly at that last word. Like she really needed him to be harsh after that. "I was merely trying to.." To be there for him. He's worried. He should have someone to share it with. "I didn't deserve that." Another few moments she simply stands there, waiting to see if he'll be man enough to tell her what's wrong. But assuming he won't, Bella merely shakes her head sadly and makes careful, quiet steps to the door.
Magneto says nothing as he glares after her, emotion impossible to read through the ice of his glare and set of his expression. The Isaac's Cradle isn't even tapping - though silence is eventually relieved by a resonant groan from the office door as Erik opens it in anticipation of her advance.
Bella pauses before she leaves, turning to look back at him. Her expression is wistful and sad. And if he looks close enough, there's something resembling pity. "It's hard to live surrounded by people with nobody to talk to. That dull ache of loneliness. That feeling that people just aren't going to understand what you're going through." Pleading eyes search his for something beyond ice. "But even if I can't understand, it doesn't mean I'm not here to listen. Day or night, it doesn't matter where I am, I'm here if you need me. Because that's what friends do." She said her piece, and now she makes a graceful exit.
Magneto isn't, unfortunately, looking all that closely - his glare vacant and distracted as it trails along after her face, and then her heels. Again, nothing is said, and no sound is made until the door closes, and he turns his head to squint back at his desk.