Post by The B-Witch on Feb 8, 2010 13:43:13 GMT -5
*Super bowl Sunday had arrived. It was game time....and the Schemer...in his guise of Winston Philmont III made his way to Philmont industries corporate booth along with two special guests. His girl friday and soon to be wife, Hard Core. And Strafe....a fellow clique member with who had much to discuss.
He had made promises to Strafe...and wanted to get things squared away with him. Unlike the more insane version of the Schemer....this version was not merely using people. He expected much from his clique members....but he planned granting them their desires in return for their service. Still...he was glad to have Hard Core at his side. If the situation with Strafe went badly....he could think of no greater backup than she.
And usher led them into the corporate box. Here...LMD servant would attend to their every need. The finest beverages and food would be supplied...and in the second quarter...he had a special surprise for Hard Core and Strafe.*
--
Adrianna thought it was amusing to come back to the scene of a scheme after the notion. Though, changing between personas to do so made it more interesting. She knew the task forces had been replaced the LMD versions...which would later be replaced with the originals again so there would be less suspicion.
She moves over and takes her seat, glancing down at the field and just picturing how hard they had to have worked to remove the giant reptilian footprints from Gino's entrance...and hoped no one would notice the bruising of the dolphin mascot in his tank.
"I don't think I've actually attended a Superbowl before in person..."
--
A ballcap and a little face paint. It was something that Alodia had taught Nico once she had learned he had joined the Clique... If you want to hide yourself, either change the whole face, or else change only a few things. The coloring he wore was black and gold, and his hat bore a Fleur de Lis, but that was the extent of his markings. The paint did not even cover a full side of his face, either, but he suspected that, given their location in the seating, and the fact that so MANY other fans had their faces done in similar fashion, he would blend better with this crowd. The last thing that Nicolaus needed was for one of his family members to see him with Philmont. More importantly, he could not risk being noticed by his sisters! Carrie knew about his identity as Strafe, now, and would piece together that Philmont must be a part of the Clique; and Lynne knew who Philmont was, and seeing Nico beside the man would simply make things that much WORSE between them.
Sighing some as the tension eased from his shoulders, once they were cloistered within the private booth, Strafe found a seat and sank into it, watching the beginnings of athletic madness upon the field.
--
Another first my dear. Trust me....you'll love it. *He said rubbing his sore shoulder. The insipid cretin Gino had ruined their attack on the staduim....but the Schemer had a back up scheme...and thanks to Temptress and her quick thinking...it would not fail.*
I'm quite pleased having you both with me today. We can watch the game and enjoy the colts defeat. The fools from New Orleans stand no chance against that equine evil....Manning. However...without selenium to protect him....I can effect the outcome of the game to my liking.
*The Schemer showed his two guests to their chairs....and then seated himself. One of the LMDs brought over a large, fluffy furred white cat which they handed to him. The creature was set in his lap....and curled up there.*
This is gossamer. Lovely isn't she??? *He looked to Hard core and Strafe his eyes narrow and serious.* I love cats....and don't like people who don't.
--
She chuckles softly. "When did you get a cat?"
She reaches over to it to pet it gently, well, as gently as she could. "It should be a good game...as the powers that be have made things a bit more balanced."
She glances around the room briefly to see if there might be any listening devices or cameras...as occasionally, stadiums would put them in the boxes. She eases into the seat a bit more comfortably to look out and down to the field. She looks to the LMD and gives it her order of things to bring her...soda, hotwings and a pretzel.
--
Strafe merely sat and watched. He had some idea of why he had been brought along on this outing... well, other than Winston wishing to have someone else there, to whom he might gloat. Often times, Schemer, as brilliant as the man COULD be, was far too easy to anticipate - at least in some things.
Nico watched as the opening kick was made, then he sank back to let events unfold as they needed.
--
*He grinned as Hard Core petted the cat.* Syphon found her. She was a stray apparently. Some cruel and twisted flanscan human abandoned her...and she wandered into the parking garage beneath Philmont Industries. She set off the security alarms and...well...I adopted her.
*He nuzzled his new pet.* You were cold and hungry weren't you gossy. *Setting the cat back on his lap...he continued.* She of course was sent to the LMD genetics department...and mutated. I could not own a pet that had no powers. No flatscan feline for me. And the rest is history.
*The opening kick off was made. The two headed coin the LMD ref was supplied with worked perfectly. The Saints had won the toss....and the fool Colts had never noticed it was actually they that had won the toss. It was an early test of his telepathic command over the games outcome. As always...his scheme was working perfectly.*
Look Gossy....we have the ball!!
*During the TV timeout...he ordered a prime rib, baked potato with sour cream, niblet corn and a glass of french wine.*
Would you care for something, Strafe??? Food?? A drink perhaps??
--
"Hopefully, the gossy isn't my sister...you know she's an animal changer. Though, I have to wonder what kind of abilities you'd give to a cat to mutate her."
She chuckles a bit as he makes his food order...obviously not the regular game food, but he had his eccentricities.
"Glad they finally but Jerry Rice and Emmitt Smith into the hall of fame...both deserved it. Hell, if only for just surviving Dancing with the Stars."
--
Nico smiled some and nodded to the LMD. Using the typical courtesies he would use towards any servant, he asked for a large baked potato, loaded with cheese and bacon and chives and broccoli florets and sour cream, with a set of salt and pepper shakers as well. And a large glass of water. If Philmont were footing the bill for this escapade, Nicolaus might as well have a food which he rarely managed to be allowed. If it were not the schedule he kept, or the fact that he hated microwaved potatoes, it was his sister's interference that kept the man from eating such heavy food. Carrie always warned him that he would eventually overtax his high metabolic rate, and then he would suddenly bulk almost overnight. So it was claimed that he should still eat like an average person, and that would help his body keep the good graces of his genetics.
It was one of the few things in which Nico thought Carrie was an idiot...
"So... how long until we start seeing the Colts fully flub, Philmont? Or is there something else you'd like to discuss, aside from the Saints' impending victory?"
--
*the Schemer spoke further about the cat since Hard Core asked.*
Gossy has a most interesting power. She can alter her shape. Not in the classic shapechanging manner you understand....rather...she can increase or shrink her size...flatten her body to move through the most impossibly small cracks. It should help in her mouse chasing duties. And she'll be a match for any dog she might encounter.
*He turned to Strafe as he spoke.* Why certainly, Strafe....we've something to discuss. I want to hear you opinions on what you wish in return for your services. I'll offer you clique agents...LMDs....financial aid...whatever you require to get what you need. Despite your brutalization of my daughter yesterday...I wish to make good my debt to you...provided you keep your hands off my children in the future.
*He shook his head concerning yesterdays fiasco.* I swear that reptile will pay for what he did yesterday....d**n gino. He clawed up one of my best trenchcoats and ate my new fedora!!!
*His mood brightened as the on field exploits continued. the Saints had punted....but his telepathy forced Manning to miss his receiver on 3rd down...forcing a field goal. Only a 3 nothing lead. He leaned toward the window glass of the private box and gave a thumbs up to Tom Brady, Bill Belichick and Robert Kraft of the Patriots in a private box not far off. He promised them a Colts loss...and he was going to deliver it.*
--
"A size changing cat...interesting. Surprised you didn't go for the invisibility notion...you'd have your own real Cheshire." She chuckles softly, leaning forward again to watch the game...and make a bit less of a mess eating her hot wings.
"And don't be too hard on Gino, darling...he's only an animal, and you smelled like his favorite prey. Had you stayed still, he wouldn't have given chase."
--
"What I want, Philmont, has not changed since you brought me on board. I've provided your people with the genetic samples of my parents, and my uncle and his wife. I was waiting on word back about that to give credence to my belief that all the Pepperidge parentage is genetically stable and mundane. With that information, I could have you and your researchers begin the next stage of the process: Namely, abducting certain of my family members, gathering DNA samplings from them, and some given samples from myself, and trying to learn how it is that four Flatscan humans could give birth to a total of seven mutant children, without a single flatscan child among the lot. By sheer probability, it should be impossible! And yet here I am, one of those children, utterly baffled by the occurrence.
"Also... if you don't mind, you can explain to me how the HELL my cousin Penny came to be involved in all this crap!"
Strafe was rarely one to be known for his stable temper, but his analytical prowess was often at a human peak. It made him fairly dangerous in a fight, and in business, as his wrath could spike at any time, but not interfere with his attention to detail...
--
*The schemer settled back as the game went on and listened to both Hard Core and Strafe rattle on while he petted his new pet cat. His eyes turned to Hard Core during the second quarter as she was making quite a mess eating.*
My dear....they invented napkins and bibs years ago. Please avail yourself to there use please.
*Next he turned to Strafe...replying with the proper nods at all the right times.*
Of course my friend. My LMDs in the gentics lab are working out the details as we speak. Their research will of course be shared with you. And as stated....any of my agents are yours to aid you.
*He turned to Hard Core.* Perhaps you'd care to give our friend a hand??
*The colts had gone up by 10-0. The saints replied with a field goal...and were rapidly moving into range for a touchdown.*
Excellent!!! All is proceeding as planned!!
--
She takes a small wet wipe from her pocket and chuckles, wiping her face off a bit, then her fingers. "I came prepared, darling."
She glances back to Strafe. "I think I might be able to get a few samplings from people...and I do have those researchers working for me in Africa who have been rather...studious in their research for what caused the genetic mutations."
She glances back down to the field and shakes her head a bit as Manning leaves the field as the Saints get possession.
--
Strafe seemed to ease back a little, then began to terrorize his potato for a few moments. He smiled some and licked a few errant bits of sour cream from his lips, then sat the plate back down, with only about a quarter of the tuber consumed. The aerokinetic nodded to Adrianna, giving a small smile.
"Thank you, my lady. Your assistance in this matter would be greatly appreciated."
Strafe then shifted his gaze back upon Schemer, watching the man dote upon the feline, all the while smiling and nodding and verbally razzing the Colts. In all things, it was apparent that Philmont could care less that the Saints won, so long as the Colts lost.
"There is one other matter you might be able to aid me with, Philmont.... I want to know if you had anything, at all, to do with the plane crash that killed Aliana and her cousin. I know she had irritated you a great deal, in the past, what with the offspring issues, and her going 'legit' and being very vocal about parts of her past, had you on edge. So, I simply want to know, did you have anything to do with that plane going down?"
Even while Strafe's face showed a slight smile, there was steel in the man's gaze. That hardness had even worked its way backwards, warding his mind and emotions from anything but obvious intrusion. Nico had lived too long in the company of telepaths, and had learned how to shield himself better than most others, outside of said mindspeakers...
--
*The Schemer gave a nod of approval as hard Core pulled forth her moist towlet.* Very good my dear. Prepared as ever. *He set Gossy down and began to feast on his own meal. On the field the Saints failed on fourth and goal....but with the aid of telepathic manipulation...he Colts were forced to punt deep in there own end of the field...and the Saints...with time to spare had a decent chance to move back into field goal range.*
Marvelous....simply marvelous!! Oh...by the way...i placed 50 thousand dollar bets down on the saints in the name of all clique members....save for that traitor Spicer. At 5 to 1 odds...we'll clean up.
*the LMDs came in and brought some choice cat food for gossy....and water...even as Strafe began to demand more out of him....this time information. This did not please the man in green.*
Cretin...you dare suggest I had something to do with that?? Masque is the mother of my only son. Why would I kill her??? She grew to be a pest...paving the way for that lunatic spectrum's new gods fiasco....but it hardly warranted her demise. Now please....I've granted you access to the clique in whatever fashion you desire....hard Core's assistance. i think I've held up my end of the bargain. Now enjoy the game.
*The saints kicked a field goal...went in at half time down 10-6.....and as this occured and the 'who' were setting up for halftime....LMDS came into the booth with TV cameras.*
Ahhhh...here is our surprise. We're going to do a live super bowl commercial for Philmont industries right here in the booth!!
--
She raises a brow at the notion of having a bet placed for her.
"Oh yes...why kill masque..." She quickly takes a sip of her soda. She glances down to the field as they start going into half time, then blinks as the camera crew comes in.
"Seriously? We''re going to shoot a love PI commercial? No make up or wardrobe?" She continues trying to get the buffalo sauce off of her face, pulling out a fresh wet wipe to aid in it, thankful she hadn't gotten any on herself, though she had simply come dressed for a football game, not for public appearances.
--
Strafe sighed softly and nodded towards Winston.
"Sorry, Old Man. Had to ask... to get it off my chest. You'll remember that, when Aliana died, she didn't die alone. Her cousin was my betrothed, and Alodia was pregnant with my child. So... yeah, I had to ask."
Relative silence fell for a few moment, as they ate their respective dishes. Nico had nearly finished the potato, when the crew came in to set up the camera systems and lighting.
"Philmont, I cannot be in a commercial of yours. There are members of my family that KNOW who you are, and who I pretend to be, now. On top of which, even without that, I can't be seeming to give Pepperidge backing to any organization or company without prior consent from the CEO or the shareholders. Hell, you know how business works."
Strafe was already standing and heading for a corner near the door, a place that should prove out of favorable position for any of the recorders to pick up on his presence.
--
*the camera crew came in...and the Schemer....far to busy with precommercial preparation answered neither Hard Core or Strafe. Personally he did not give a d**n about Strafe's sob story. He grew to hate Masque....and the fact the gene pool was spared the lunacy of another Pepperidge suited him well. Still...he had nothing to do with the plane crash. Pity...he would have enjoyed taking credit for it.
The LMDs provided makeup for those interested and he gestured for Strafe to get out of the shot. A moment later....third commercial at halftime...the cameras were rolling began. The Schemer straightened his tie and addressed the nation at large.*
Good evening....I trust you're all enjoying the game. I am Winston Philmont....founder of Philmont industries. This lovely creature beside me is Adrianna DuMont owner and operater of WBN...the foremost TV network in the country. She is also my fiance. Yes...i'm am far luckier than all of you in that regard. But I digress. Tonight...I come to you to speak of my caring for the flatsc....er...human condition.
We at Philmont Industries make the finest computer and electronic devices in the world. *He gestures...and two LMDs entered with a chalkboard piechart.*
As you can see...are sales have increased yearly...until we've surpassed even that clod Tony Stark of stark industries in total sales. That's right....we're number one. Just like the Saints. Thank you...and enjoy the second half of todays game.
*the The Cameras went off...and the LMDs left the room. The Schemer sat back down and continued with his meal. Between bite he suggested.....*
I think that went nicely.*
--
She stays quiet during Winston's commercial, as he was primarily addressing Philmont Industries, though she did wave a foam finger when he mentioned the Saints being number one.
"Just felt like the random commercial during the game? I mean, a live spot that I know cost at least 3 million for the airtime."
--
*The who sang their nonsense at halftime. the telecasting clods gave their insufferable opinions about the game so far...and finally...the second half began with a bang...and onsides kick which the saints recovered. The Schemer placed the thought in the head of the Saints coach and gloated about it.*
Ingenious of me calling that...wouldn't you say my love??? *He asked Hard Core.* Even that pious cretin Tony Dungy would have been fooled.
*He grinned at her foam finger.* Nice touch.
*Then the Saints moved down the field and scored. The colts returned the favor in short order. Then the Schemer took a more active role in the game. He forced the Colts kicker to miss a field goal. He had the Colts receivers drop passes....he had Manning under throw on routes. And soon the Saints led by seven points.
the Colts were driving...and he laid out his great moment....having Peyton
Manning throw an interception that effectively ended the game.*
Ahhh...I love it when a scheme comes together. It's so...stimulating!!!
--
"Of course, having the Colt touch it to make it a fair possession was a nice added touch." She grins slightly, watching the game. At least he was making the game a decent show of attempted failures instead of just an all out ass-raping of the Colts.
"Doesn't happen often enough, does it darling?"
She sips some more of her soda, thinking if he keeps up this excited, the evening would be even better after the game.
--
He had made promises to Strafe...and wanted to get things squared away with him. Unlike the more insane version of the Schemer....this version was not merely using people. He expected much from his clique members....but he planned granting them their desires in return for their service. Still...he was glad to have Hard Core at his side. If the situation with Strafe went badly....he could think of no greater backup than she.
And usher led them into the corporate box. Here...LMD servant would attend to their every need. The finest beverages and food would be supplied...and in the second quarter...he had a special surprise for Hard Core and Strafe.*
--
Adrianna thought it was amusing to come back to the scene of a scheme after the notion. Though, changing between personas to do so made it more interesting. She knew the task forces had been replaced the LMD versions...which would later be replaced with the originals again so there would be less suspicion.
She moves over and takes her seat, glancing down at the field and just picturing how hard they had to have worked to remove the giant reptilian footprints from Gino's entrance...and hoped no one would notice the bruising of the dolphin mascot in his tank.
"I don't think I've actually attended a Superbowl before in person..."
--
A ballcap and a little face paint. It was something that Alodia had taught Nico once she had learned he had joined the Clique... If you want to hide yourself, either change the whole face, or else change only a few things. The coloring he wore was black and gold, and his hat bore a Fleur de Lis, but that was the extent of his markings. The paint did not even cover a full side of his face, either, but he suspected that, given their location in the seating, and the fact that so MANY other fans had their faces done in similar fashion, he would blend better with this crowd. The last thing that Nicolaus needed was for one of his family members to see him with Philmont. More importantly, he could not risk being noticed by his sisters! Carrie knew about his identity as Strafe, now, and would piece together that Philmont must be a part of the Clique; and Lynne knew who Philmont was, and seeing Nico beside the man would simply make things that much WORSE between them.
Sighing some as the tension eased from his shoulders, once they were cloistered within the private booth, Strafe found a seat and sank into it, watching the beginnings of athletic madness upon the field.
--
Another first my dear. Trust me....you'll love it. *He said rubbing his sore shoulder. The insipid cretin Gino had ruined their attack on the staduim....but the Schemer had a back up scheme...and thanks to Temptress and her quick thinking...it would not fail.*
I'm quite pleased having you both with me today. We can watch the game and enjoy the colts defeat. The fools from New Orleans stand no chance against that equine evil....Manning. However...without selenium to protect him....I can effect the outcome of the game to my liking.
*The Schemer showed his two guests to their chairs....and then seated himself. One of the LMDs brought over a large, fluffy furred white cat which they handed to him. The creature was set in his lap....and curled up there.*
This is gossamer. Lovely isn't she??? *He looked to Hard core and Strafe his eyes narrow and serious.* I love cats....and don't like people who don't.
--
She chuckles softly. "When did you get a cat?"
She reaches over to it to pet it gently, well, as gently as she could. "It should be a good game...as the powers that be have made things a bit more balanced."
She glances around the room briefly to see if there might be any listening devices or cameras...as occasionally, stadiums would put them in the boxes. She eases into the seat a bit more comfortably to look out and down to the field. She looks to the LMD and gives it her order of things to bring her...soda, hotwings and a pretzel.
--
Strafe merely sat and watched. He had some idea of why he had been brought along on this outing... well, other than Winston wishing to have someone else there, to whom he might gloat. Often times, Schemer, as brilliant as the man COULD be, was far too easy to anticipate - at least in some things.
Nico watched as the opening kick was made, then he sank back to let events unfold as they needed.
--
*He grinned as Hard Core petted the cat.* Syphon found her. She was a stray apparently. Some cruel and twisted flanscan human abandoned her...and she wandered into the parking garage beneath Philmont Industries. She set off the security alarms and...well...I adopted her.
*He nuzzled his new pet.* You were cold and hungry weren't you gossy. *Setting the cat back on his lap...he continued.* She of course was sent to the LMD genetics department...and mutated. I could not own a pet that had no powers. No flatscan feline for me. And the rest is history.
*The opening kick off was made. The two headed coin the LMD ref was supplied with worked perfectly. The Saints had won the toss....and the fool Colts had never noticed it was actually they that had won the toss. It was an early test of his telepathic command over the games outcome. As always...his scheme was working perfectly.*
Look Gossy....we have the ball!!
*During the TV timeout...he ordered a prime rib, baked potato with sour cream, niblet corn and a glass of french wine.*
Would you care for something, Strafe??? Food?? A drink perhaps??
--
"Hopefully, the gossy isn't my sister...you know she's an animal changer. Though, I have to wonder what kind of abilities you'd give to a cat to mutate her."
She chuckles a bit as he makes his food order...obviously not the regular game food, but he had his eccentricities.
"Glad they finally but Jerry Rice and Emmitt Smith into the hall of fame...both deserved it. Hell, if only for just surviving Dancing with the Stars."
--
Nico smiled some and nodded to the LMD. Using the typical courtesies he would use towards any servant, he asked for a large baked potato, loaded with cheese and bacon and chives and broccoli florets and sour cream, with a set of salt and pepper shakers as well. And a large glass of water. If Philmont were footing the bill for this escapade, Nicolaus might as well have a food which he rarely managed to be allowed. If it were not the schedule he kept, or the fact that he hated microwaved potatoes, it was his sister's interference that kept the man from eating such heavy food. Carrie always warned him that he would eventually overtax his high metabolic rate, and then he would suddenly bulk almost overnight. So it was claimed that he should still eat like an average person, and that would help his body keep the good graces of his genetics.
It was one of the few things in which Nico thought Carrie was an idiot...
"So... how long until we start seeing the Colts fully flub, Philmont? Or is there something else you'd like to discuss, aside from the Saints' impending victory?"
--
*the Schemer spoke further about the cat since Hard Core asked.*
Gossy has a most interesting power. She can alter her shape. Not in the classic shapechanging manner you understand....rather...she can increase or shrink her size...flatten her body to move through the most impossibly small cracks. It should help in her mouse chasing duties. And she'll be a match for any dog she might encounter.
*He turned to Strafe as he spoke.* Why certainly, Strafe....we've something to discuss. I want to hear you opinions on what you wish in return for your services. I'll offer you clique agents...LMDs....financial aid...whatever you require to get what you need. Despite your brutalization of my daughter yesterday...I wish to make good my debt to you...provided you keep your hands off my children in the future.
*He shook his head concerning yesterdays fiasco.* I swear that reptile will pay for what he did yesterday....d**n gino. He clawed up one of my best trenchcoats and ate my new fedora!!!
*His mood brightened as the on field exploits continued. the Saints had punted....but his telepathy forced Manning to miss his receiver on 3rd down...forcing a field goal. Only a 3 nothing lead. He leaned toward the window glass of the private box and gave a thumbs up to Tom Brady, Bill Belichick and Robert Kraft of the Patriots in a private box not far off. He promised them a Colts loss...and he was going to deliver it.*
--
"A size changing cat...interesting. Surprised you didn't go for the invisibility notion...you'd have your own real Cheshire." She chuckles softly, leaning forward again to watch the game...and make a bit less of a mess eating her hot wings.
"And don't be too hard on Gino, darling...he's only an animal, and you smelled like his favorite prey. Had you stayed still, he wouldn't have given chase."
--
"What I want, Philmont, has not changed since you brought me on board. I've provided your people with the genetic samples of my parents, and my uncle and his wife. I was waiting on word back about that to give credence to my belief that all the Pepperidge parentage is genetically stable and mundane. With that information, I could have you and your researchers begin the next stage of the process: Namely, abducting certain of my family members, gathering DNA samplings from them, and some given samples from myself, and trying to learn how it is that four Flatscan humans could give birth to a total of seven mutant children, without a single flatscan child among the lot. By sheer probability, it should be impossible! And yet here I am, one of those children, utterly baffled by the occurrence.
"Also... if you don't mind, you can explain to me how the HELL my cousin Penny came to be involved in all this crap!"
Strafe was rarely one to be known for his stable temper, but his analytical prowess was often at a human peak. It made him fairly dangerous in a fight, and in business, as his wrath could spike at any time, but not interfere with his attention to detail...
--
*The schemer settled back as the game went on and listened to both Hard Core and Strafe rattle on while he petted his new pet cat. His eyes turned to Hard Core during the second quarter as she was making quite a mess eating.*
My dear....they invented napkins and bibs years ago. Please avail yourself to there use please.
*Next he turned to Strafe...replying with the proper nods at all the right times.*
Of course my friend. My LMDs in the gentics lab are working out the details as we speak. Their research will of course be shared with you. And as stated....any of my agents are yours to aid you.
*He turned to Hard Core.* Perhaps you'd care to give our friend a hand??
*The colts had gone up by 10-0. The saints replied with a field goal...and were rapidly moving into range for a touchdown.*
Excellent!!! All is proceeding as planned!!
--
She takes a small wet wipe from her pocket and chuckles, wiping her face off a bit, then her fingers. "I came prepared, darling."
She glances back to Strafe. "I think I might be able to get a few samplings from people...and I do have those researchers working for me in Africa who have been rather...studious in their research for what caused the genetic mutations."
She glances back down to the field and shakes her head a bit as Manning leaves the field as the Saints get possession.
--
Strafe seemed to ease back a little, then began to terrorize his potato for a few moments. He smiled some and licked a few errant bits of sour cream from his lips, then sat the plate back down, with only about a quarter of the tuber consumed. The aerokinetic nodded to Adrianna, giving a small smile.
"Thank you, my lady. Your assistance in this matter would be greatly appreciated."
Strafe then shifted his gaze back upon Schemer, watching the man dote upon the feline, all the while smiling and nodding and verbally razzing the Colts. In all things, it was apparent that Philmont could care less that the Saints won, so long as the Colts lost.
"There is one other matter you might be able to aid me with, Philmont.... I want to know if you had anything, at all, to do with the plane crash that killed Aliana and her cousin. I know she had irritated you a great deal, in the past, what with the offspring issues, and her going 'legit' and being very vocal about parts of her past, had you on edge. So, I simply want to know, did you have anything to do with that plane going down?"
Even while Strafe's face showed a slight smile, there was steel in the man's gaze. That hardness had even worked its way backwards, warding his mind and emotions from anything but obvious intrusion. Nico had lived too long in the company of telepaths, and had learned how to shield himself better than most others, outside of said mindspeakers...
--
*The Schemer gave a nod of approval as hard Core pulled forth her moist towlet.* Very good my dear. Prepared as ever. *He set Gossy down and began to feast on his own meal. On the field the Saints failed on fourth and goal....but with the aid of telepathic manipulation...he Colts were forced to punt deep in there own end of the field...and the Saints...with time to spare had a decent chance to move back into field goal range.*
Marvelous....simply marvelous!! Oh...by the way...i placed 50 thousand dollar bets down on the saints in the name of all clique members....save for that traitor Spicer. At 5 to 1 odds...we'll clean up.
*the LMDs came in and brought some choice cat food for gossy....and water...even as Strafe began to demand more out of him....this time information. This did not please the man in green.*
Cretin...you dare suggest I had something to do with that?? Masque is the mother of my only son. Why would I kill her??? She grew to be a pest...paving the way for that lunatic spectrum's new gods fiasco....but it hardly warranted her demise. Now please....I've granted you access to the clique in whatever fashion you desire....hard Core's assistance. i think I've held up my end of the bargain. Now enjoy the game.
*The saints kicked a field goal...went in at half time down 10-6.....and as this occured and the 'who' were setting up for halftime....LMDS came into the booth with TV cameras.*
Ahhhh...here is our surprise. We're going to do a live super bowl commercial for Philmont industries right here in the booth!!
--
She raises a brow at the notion of having a bet placed for her.
"Oh yes...why kill masque..." She quickly takes a sip of her soda. She glances down to the field as they start going into half time, then blinks as the camera crew comes in.
"Seriously? We''re going to shoot a love PI commercial? No make up or wardrobe?" She continues trying to get the buffalo sauce off of her face, pulling out a fresh wet wipe to aid in it, thankful she hadn't gotten any on herself, though she had simply come dressed for a football game, not for public appearances.
--
Strafe sighed softly and nodded towards Winston.
"Sorry, Old Man. Had to ask... to get it off my chest. You'll remember that, when Aliana died, she didn't die alone. Her cousin was my betrothed, and Alodia was pregnant with my child. So... yeah, I had to ask."
Relative silence fell for a few moment, as they ate their respective dishes. Nico had nearly finished the potato, when the crew came in to set up the camera systems and lighting.
"Philmont, I cannot be in a commercial of yours. There are members of my family that KNOW who you are, and who I pretend to be, now. On top of which, even without that, I can't be seeming to give Pepperidge backing to any organization or company without prior consent from the CEO or the shareholders. Hell, you know how business works."
Strafe was already standing and heading for a corner near the door, a place that should prove out of favorable position for any of the recorders to pick up on his presence.
--
*the camera crew came in...and the Schemer....far to busy with precommercial preparation answered neither Hard Core or Strafe. Personally he did not give a d**n about Strafe's sob story. He grew to hate Masque....and the fact the gene pool was spared the lunacy of another Pepperidge suited him well. Still...he had nothing to do with the plane crash. Pity...he would have enjoyed taking credit for it.
The LMDs provided makeup for those interested and he gestured for Strafe to get out of the shot. A moment later....third commercial at halftime...the cameras were rolling began. The Schemer straightened his tie and addressed the nation at large.*
Good evening....I trust you're all enjoying the game. I am Winston Philmont....founder of Philmont industries. This lovely creature beside me is Adrianna DuMont owner and operater of WBN...the foremost TV network in the country. She is also my fiance. Yes...i'm am far luckier than all of you in that regard. But I digress. Tonight...I come to you to speak of my caring for the flatsc....er...human condition.
We at Philmont Industries make the finest computer and electronic devices in the world. *He gestures...and two LMDs entered with a chalkboard piechart.*
As you can see...are sales have increased yearly...until we've surpassed even that clod Tony Stark of stark industries in total sales. That's right....we're number one. Just like the Saints. Thank you...and enjoy the second half of todays game.
*the The Cameras went off...and the LMDs left the room. The Schemer sat back down and continued with his meal. Between bite he suggested.....*
I think that went nicely.*
--
She stays quiet during Winston's commercial, as he was primarily addressing Philmont Industries, though she did wave a foam finger when he mentioned the Saints being number one.
"Just felt like the random commercial during the game? I mean, a live spot that I know cost at least 3 million for the airtime."
--
*The who sang their nonsense at halftime. the telecasting clods gave their insufferable opinions about the game so far...and finally...the second half began with a bang...and onsides kick which the saints recovered. The Schemer placed the thought in the head of the Saints coach and gloated about it.*
Ingenious of me calling that...wouldn't you say my love??? *He asked Hard Core.* Even that pious cretin Tony Dungy would have been fooled.
*He grinned at her foam finger.* Nice touch.
*Then the Saints moved down the field and scored. The colts returned the favor in short order. Then the Schemer took a more active role in the game. He forced the Colts kicker to miss a field goal. He had the Colts receivers drop passes....he had Manning under throw on routes. And soon the Saints led by seven points.
the Colts were driving...and he laid out his great moment....having Peyton
Manning throw an interception that effectively ended the game.*
Ahhh...I love it when a scheme comes together. It's so...stimulating!!!
--
"Of course, having the Colt touch it to make it a fair possession was a nice added touch." She grins slightly, watching the game. At least he was making the game a decent show of attempted failures instead of just an all out ass-raping of the Colts.
"Doesn't happen often enough, does it darling?"
She sips some more of her soda, thinking if he keeps up this excited, the evening would be even better after the game.
--