2013.07.29 - Dead Men Take Checks

It had been exactly 8 days since John Carmichal had met with Magneto, and been set on the task of tracking down 10 mutants for him on the quiet. In that time, Carmichal had not really slept much. He lived for this sort of thing. He hadn't gotten the chance to do a lot of by-god-actual detective work since his return to the world at large after his 62 year long big sleep. Outside the Genoshan embassy, a dark, plain looking car, probably a Ford of some kind pulls up and parks down the street a way.
Carmichal had of course done due dilligence, driving all over town, and into places cars shouldn't have been able to drive out again without being seen. He did drive out of course, usually through walls, or evading any possible tail in other unusual, and impossible ways. Impossible for people who couldn't drive through solid objects without leaving a scratch on their vehicles at least. Finally satisfied that he couldnt possibly have been surveilled on his travels, the man walks toward the front gate, once more holding the envelope he'd originally been given as his key to the sovereign soil that was Genosha, seeking an audience with Bastion's new Imperator.
 
It takes surprinsgly few minutes for Carmichal to get approved, and in short order he's being escorted up the steps and down the hall to Magneto's personal study. It's not changed a bit- still that massive library of reference material and rarebooks on the one side, and that terrifyingly biblical statue of Magneto the Slayer in the other. Perhaps John has seen Magneto's take on Atlas in the ballroom, which is just as needlessly egomaniacal. 
"Detective Carmichal, welcome back," Magneto says from behind his desk. He gestures to one of the seats across from him, busying himself with some paperwork as John approaches. It takes the Imperator a moment to sign a few papers, turn off his holocomputer, and folds his fingers on the desk. "So, how progressed your investigation? You seem to have made substantial progress, reporting in... some seven days ahead of schedule."
Carmichal enters carrying a small satchel. He nods "Your Excellency." he says carrying a rook-sack over his shoulder. He remains standing for the moment, taking off his hat and holding it in one hand. "Most of the subjects were easy to track." he says "And I can keep working if you want, there's only one subject that has proven...." he shrugs "a little outside my reach I'm afraid." he says pulling out all 10 dossier's he'd been given. These he places on the desk within reach, and steps back.
Should Magneto go through them, he will find 7 of them were relatively easy traces. Almost all of them were in Mutant Town lying low. One of them had joined a group known as the 'Morlocks', whom he was able to pinpoint in a series of deep tunnels in NYC's sewer system. Which left only 2 of them. Of those two, one of them had turned state's evidence against a high profile criminal, and had been whisked away into witness protection, and according to Carmichal's notes, was not able to be tracked by his sources. The final one, one Kwabane Odame had proven to be a real challenge. The detective's notes will lay out the various leads he'd tracked, clues he'd followed, stretching from NYC, to Cincinatti, all the way cross-country, finally landing in San-Diego, where he was, according to the evidence attempting to find passage to Genosha.
"I can keep trying to track Mr. Kripke, if you like, your excellency, but the US Marshal's service is proving a hard nut to crack concerning his whereabouts." he says of the wit-sec mutant.
 
"That's quite all right, Detective," Magneto says, setting the dossier aside. He looks through Kwabena's with cool eyes, never revealing an iota of expression. "He has been rather busy, hasn't he? And now he's trying to find passage into Genosha." There's a moment of silence, then Magneto snaps the folder shut and places it with the other. "Kripke and Odame, our two wayward souls," the Master of Magnetism remarks. 
"Detective, you've accomplished your objective rather thoroughly. Your reputation preceded you in this case, and you have more than delivered." He gestures at the butler, who brings over an envelope stuffed with cash, and with another stack of bills atop it. "A bonus, Detective, for your hard work." 
As John accepts the money, Magneto steepls hs fingers. "Now, Detective, I think it's time we talk about what it is Genosha can do. For you," he clarifies, pointing his steepled fingers at Carmichal's heart. "I think your particular talents merit some discussion. You are quite a bit more than most private detectives," Magneto informs the man cooly.
Carmichal accepts the cash, and the bonus graciously, not so much as glancing at it as it disappears into an inside pocket. "For me, your Excellency?" he says lifting his eyebrows a bit. "I don't know what to say, sir." he says finally taking a seat, and pulling out a silver cigarette case. From this he removes a filterless Lucky, and lights it. He already knew it was okay to smoke, since he'd been offered cigarettes last time he was here. "You're far too generous, your Excellency." he says of the praise "I'm just a working mug." he says modestly, though his eyes, obviously showing his attention to every single little detail study Magnetos face as he speaks. "Just lucky I suppose...." he says noncomittally.
Did Magneto know about his 'other abilities'? He had to guess he probably did somehow. After all, John had done his homework on the Imperator in the intervening days as well. Magneto, the world's most famous, or infamous mutant. conqueror of Genosha, liberator of Bastion. The man had resources, and John was willing to bet his own secrets were not that hard to suss out.
"Well. When you see one of your private detectives phasing through a steel wall, it raises some eyebrows," Magneto says with a wry tone. "I am sorry for the intrusion into your personal space. When we shook hands, I noticed- well, the exact explanation is somewhat technical, but your personal space is different than it ought to be," he clarifies to the man. "It's something that an individual with my talent can percieve rather easily." 
At a gesture, his computer screen comes on, and an image of John pops up, but overlaid with a bizarre series of energy lines that make no sense to anyone not verse in high energy physics. "At first, I had thought you were a mutant," Magneto explains, turning in his chair to look at the hologram. "But we've had a few opportunities to scan your genetic code. You lack a 24th chromosome, and your regular base pair encoding is completely human-normal," Magneto informs John. He smiles at the man. "In other words, you're completely normal. Except that you're not normal at all." He fingertaps again. "I imagine that you would like a bit better explanation as to exactly /what/ you are, am I correct?"
Carmichal watches the computer flare up, and his face shows that he's lost when Magneto discusses the science of it all, including the genetics. "Not a mutant...." he says "huh...to be honest, I never really knew one way or the other..." he says exhaling smoke, and looking somewhat relieved "so I'm not a mutant, but I'm -something-" he says and chuckles "that's why I got into the detective business, your Excellency. For every answer, more questions arrise." he says and nods "of course I would." he says "I've been able to do these things since I can remember, but never knew how, or why." he says "so sure, I'd love to know more about what I can do, why I can do them, and, as you say, what I am." he says "met a kid a few weeks ago, told me he was a god." he says with a chuckle "looked like a kid to me. And every one of those people...well, except for the one who went down to the sewers.." he says nodding toward the folders he'd delivered "look just like I do. So, just goes back to that old saying about books, and covers huh?" he says lightly.
"So are you saying you can help me figure this out, your Excellency? Because if thats the case, you have my attention...." he finishes, taking another drag off his Lucky.
 
"Pure mutants such as myself are born with an extra... hmm. I might have to back up." Magneto begins laying out a small lesson plan on genetic coding and chromosomal base pairs that is given in terms even John can understand- a man who predated Watson and Crick. It takes less than five minutes, but Magneto lays out a solid basis for John to have a grasp of mutation and chromosomal disparity. "In short, you fall in that narrow range of individuals who don't have the genetic predisposition to superhuman ability, but you are still, genetically speaking, completely human. It is your gifts that set you apart from your human peers, and they are remarkable, to say the least. Are you aware of the effort involved in phase-shifting matter so it can pass unhindered through other solids? Intangibility is something I am not sure /I/ would attempt," Magneto says with a wry smile. "And yet you can apparently do it as easily as breathing. I can help you, John," Magneto tells the man with an earnest look. "I can help you master your abilities. To take them to levels you never dreamed possible. You say you met a god yestereve? With my help, I could give you the power to look him in the eye as an /equal/." The rising passion in his voice is infectious, the very room charged with the energy of his words. "What would you say to that?"
Carmichal sits back in his chair, eyes, as always laser focused on every piece of information he's recieving, and studying the man he speaks with as though searching for any break in sincerity, any sign of malice, or any sort of deception. If the detective notices any he keeps them to himself however, visibly simply seeming to listen. At Magneto's question he takes another long drag off his smoke. It was a perfect way to pause while he considers the implications of what he's just learned, and what he's clearly being offered.
"Your Excellency, I would say that sounds too good to be true, if you want blunt honesty." he finally responds. "Did your thingamabob show you the other oddity that is me?" he asks idly "See...it isn't just phase shifting..." he says "recently I found out one other little quirk...which I honestly haven't decided how I feel about yet." he says. That was Carmichal. All in, or go home. Half measures only ever served to make problems worse, and frankly bothered the detective.
"The fact that you are a man out of time, Detective?" Magneto says with a wry smirk. "It's hard to miss. You're hardly a man affecting a fashion statement. Private Investigators don't call themselves 'Detectives' anymore. They don't own four fedoras that are made authentically, down to the silk band and liner. They don't use the language you use, the slang, the idioms that have been out of date for a half a century or more." He spreads his hands. "It doesn't take an exceptional mind to deduce that you are either translocated from your past, by artifice or suspension- or you are immortal." He brings the floating spheres that hover perpetually at hand, levitating them over his open palm. "My personal guess was some kind of translocations. Immortals typically have a few centuries of off-shore compound interest to support them," he adds with a smile.
Carmichal just smirks then "Immortal? Chief, I hope that ain't the case....." he says and shakes his head. "But you got me...er..your Excellency." he says "The truth is, I can die...in fact, in the last month I've died twice." he says watching the man playing with the spheres. "Fact of the matter is, to me, 1951 was only about two months ago. Near as I can figure someone got the drop on me, and deposited me in the wet cement of a foundational pillar. That building was demolished 2 months ago, and I woke up here...in 2013." he says "So yeah...I'm a little behind the times, when it comes to this high science, and in truth, the science fiction gadgetry that everyone's got these days confuses me." he says
"So now here I am, without any kind of direction, and a specific skill-set that just aint as necessary as it once was." he says "You want to help me get a handle on my abilities? I say great, what's the catch? I won't try to hornswaggle ya, your excellency, but I fought in the war..." and he obviously means WWII. "So I've heard some doozies when it comes to big promises....." he says "You look like you might know what I'm flappin' my gums about." he adds. Now that his 'secret' is out he seems more relaxed with his lingo.
 
Magneto spreads the fingers of one hand, and the metal of the spheres begins to flatten and spread into wide discs, razor-thin and a foot wide. "Quid pro quo, Detective," Magneto says. "Presently, I am at war. It is a war for survival. Human beings- among which you can no longer number yourself, mind- are engaging in a campaign to wipe mutants and mutates off the face of the earth. It is more pronounced in places like Europe and the Balkan nations- the former Soviet Republic," he amends, for John's edification. "Pogroms are in place to harvest mutants and disset them like lab animals, or to wipe them out entirely. There are parts of the world where, if you were seen to phase change, you would be executed or imprisoned for torture and study." 
Magneto rises, the tiny ball bearings becoming a set of perfectly ordered cubes, still floating over his desk. He stands with his back to John, hands clasped behind his back as he looks to the sun in the bay window. "John, I would help you master your powers, so that you may learn to protect mutants and mutates like me- like you- who are being unjustly persecuted, the world over." He half turns, looking back at John. "It is a glorious and terrible purpose," he admits. "But a use of your powers that is far more noble than spying upon jilted lovers or delving into the history of political candidates."
Carmichal finishes his cigarette, and stubs it out in the ashtray. He tilts his head, and stands then, clasping his hands in front of his belly, hat in hand. "Your Excellency...." he says "I've never had one moment's hesitation in doing the right thing, if I believed it would save a life." he says "and I've never had any beef with mutants...or mutates...or anyone in particular. One thing I have never ever been is a bystander." he says "If you want me to help you save mutants...." he says "I say point me at 'em, and let me do my moral and ethical duty." he says "I saw things in Germany in the war that haunt me to this day during the liberation. I never ever want to see that allowed to happen on that scale again. Not for nothin'...." he says "Quid pro quo...sure...I'd do it even if you couldn't offer to help me. Right is right." he says merely, his own passion, though muted in comparison to the master of magnetism's...is bubbling to the surface here.
"Nobody should be persecuted for being different. Full stop." he finishes.
 
Magneto smiles. "I'm glad we see eye to eye, John." He turns and walks towards the man, standing with his fingers interlanced below his sternum. He looks half prophet, half holy man, standing in his robes of office. "Then, as you are inclined, we can begin lessons when you feel you have time. There are shades of power, just as there are shades of any skill. I may be able to aid you in developing your gifts for more utility than being able to simply walk through walls. With the right training and discipline, you would make a formidable warrior for the forces of good," the Imperator informs John. "But we need not begin now. Take some time. Rest," he urges. "Enjoy the spoils of your work, work well-done. Think about my offer. Then, when you are ready, we can discuss a possible training regimine. I can teach you how to use your powers in ways that you never imagined," Magneto says, dangling the carrot in front of the man out of time. "For now, let us say farewell." He offers a handshake to the Detective, smiling benevolently.
Carmichal is visibly hooked. He grins "Very well, your Excellency....I'll be in touch." he says and shakes the man's hand firmly "I look forward to doing my part." he says after the handshake. He doesn't hesitate at that point though, and simply turns, and exits. He knew when he'd been dismissed, and like the former soldier he was, he had no issue excusing himself. Before long he's out the door, out the gate, and back on the road toward Gotham City.
Category:Log