Quickencon: The Roleplay

[Kratos Krisna]

Gaston Marceau

After spending some time decked out in Klingon armor cavorting around with usual convention goers and other assorted nerds (many requesting photo ops and such) the immortal known as Etienne Theriot decided to drop theatricality for the time being and go for a little information gathering.

On a whim, he rented a room at an adjoining hotel and changed out of the Klingon getup in favor of something a little less showy. Rather dubious about the 'peace bonding' and 'no combat' rules of QuickenCon, he took steps to protect himself.

Being a former secret agent had its advantages in that you can pick up all sorts of nifty toys. A suit of body armor protected his torso and vital organs from harm, with ancillary plates covering his arms and legs. Noting that the paint was dry on the armor, Etienne grins. If a certain patriarch of the New Orleans Thieves Guild knew he was being impersonated today, he'd probably have one rare fit. No immortal goes without a trench coat it seems, so the full length brown duster complimented the X-Men Gambit getup quite nicely.

Two practical items completed the ensemble: a full length quarterstaff was the obvious tool, resilient enough to withstand hits from a sword blade and packing enough of a wallop to knock a foolish Immortal silly if needed. The other was his trusty Desert Eagle pistol...both weapons were of ceramic carbon polymers...capable of passing through any metal detector with nary a blip (handy when he and his team ahd to use public transportation while under cover). With the Eagle tucked securely in a hidden shoulder holster, and the requisite concealed carry permit included with his ID and credentials, Etienne was ready to head back to QuickenCon.

He thought to himself that he might be going a little overboard in actually dressing up for the bloody thing, but when in Rome...

...returning to the convention area, he notices more people have arrived, and the event really seems to be ramping up. Remembering that Duncan was rather moody last time he was here, Etienne sends Methos a text first...like you can really hear to talk over a cell phone in this madhouse anyway.

*Back in the convention center. You all right, old man?*

Edmond felt yet another Buzz as the head of the fictitious Thieves Guild of New Orleans approached him and the strange men who surrounded him. Clicking his pen in Morse Code, he directed a light at the Gambit to send a warning to stay away. Far, Far away. Every Weapon before him was real. Amnd he was pretty sure that if an Immortal flanked by 2 mortals challenged another Immortal, a third Immortal could not interrupt the Mortals involved. Thankfully his Security detail was approaching. His two personal bodyguards from the stairs behind this lot, and Colin Macleod and this year's Quentin from the lobby before them. That and the fact that a fight didn't nessecarily see to be in the works put him at ease, but only a little.  

[Gaston Marceau]

The costumed Gambit arches an eyebrow at the Morse code message directed at him. From his multiple past tenures in the military, not to mention his years working with Balance, he can translate it readily enough. 'Stay away. Far, far away.' A little on the dramatic side, but nothing to be done about it,

Pausing just inside the entrance to the convention, his practiced eye quickly assesses Edmond's situation. A bit on the touchy side, and one Etienne would normally help dissolve, but he can see event security moving in from several directions. Better to let them do their jobs and remain as unobtrusive as possible.

Etienne gives Edmond a nod to acknowledge the message, and moves on. For lack of anything better to do, he heads off towards one of the video rooms, figuring to learn a bit more about the program that inspired this event. Since Adam hasn't responded yet, Etienne sends a text message MacLeod's way next.

*This place is a hornet's nest. Where are you and Dawson? I need to borrow a can of Raid.*  

[Immortal Methos]

Methos nodded at Greta. "I might," he said, feeling his phone vibrate again.

Depends on how much time Mac wants to put into this insane death trap, he thought.

Glancing at his phone, he read Etienne's text and replied while talking to Greta, his eyes never looking down at the phone. Keyboard typing was second nature to the Old Man. *Mezzanine. Where do you want to meet?*

"Greta," he said, smiling, "I'm so glad to see you again. We'll have to stay in touch." He handed her a card. "My number, in case we don't see each other again this weekend. We should get together for dinner."

Meanwhile, Duncan, sitting at a booth with Joe at a nearby restaurant, got Etienne's text. *Are you in trouble?* he texted back.  

[Gaston Marceau]

etienne has found a video room showing episodes of The Gathering at Hand with a dubious look on his face. He realizes this is intended to be a work of fiction based on the real Immortals of the world, but the machinations of Kortan can be easily applied to the real world without too much effort. Needless to say, he'll bear some watching.

Shortly thereafter, his phone starts buzzing with responses to his messages. Since MacLeod is well known as the type to jump in when people are in trouble, he gets the first response.

*Not yet. Just doubting the wisdom of showing up here.*

Methos is next.

*I'm down in the video room...probably easiest if I come to you.*

Adopting a very cavalier and Gambit like stance, Etienne exits the video room, tapping the quarterstaff easily against his left shoulder...conveniently putting the weapon in an excellent position to thwok someone upside the head should they cause any trouble.

Giving some well dressed young women an appropriate wink, Gambit starts moving towards the mezzanine.  

[Immortal Ghost]

It had been a random choice to show up, mostly out of curiosity, she'd never been one for these types of conventions, the few she had ever visited where mostly job related or something similar. Luana was hesitant to come to this Quickencon, but there was little else to do, and it might turn out interesting, to say the lest. So maybe she had shown up in one of her dresses, looking more like she was on her way to an old-time ball, the dress being from a much older time. She'd already gotten a few compliments just waiting in line for admission.

Once she had paid, just for the day of course, she was left to wander about the convention with minor amusement, stopping here and there to glance at a display table or the such. Someone asked for a picture and she answered softly in german, they seemed to the get the drift of her answer though. She ran fingers over the boned corset and flowing skirt and gave a small smile. As with all camera's she was left blinking after the flash, but still nodded at the enthusiastic thanks she received.

Luana moved onward, not really having a clear goal in mind, there had to be other immortals around, the warning buzz's every once and a while when she came in range of them told that much.  

[Kratos Krisna]

Standing on the SkyBridge, staring down upon Seattle, Kortan fantasized that all that stretched before him was blasted heath. When he built the future that Katana had left him in, the future he'd promised with his "kiddy cartoon"... he would see that it was. Part of being alive long enough to bring his assignment to fulfillment was knowing when to step back into the shadows, and when to step up and attack. Familiarizing himself with each era's suveillance methods was a good place to start, but sometimes an Immortal didn't have time to wait to see what was ahead before he attacked. As for Kortan, he didn't have much time to wait for Angus, but because of this convention he devised, he could not yet hunt for him. Soon, though. Soon he would be on the path to being an Immortal God. Soon he would -- who was that infernal Laughing Bandit standing in a mimicing pose behind him?! To mock me as I plot the world's destruction and renewal in my image? This fool must not like looking at the world from above his own shoulders! thought Kortan with a deadly silence. But why is he flaunting that press pass? He clearly thinks he knows me. Well hold still, fool. I shall know you soon enough. No one's allowed this high, yet. Your "heart attack" won't incriminate me. Just a few more seconds... Oh, gods. It's just Malone.  

[Immortal Methos]

Waiting for Etienne, Methos put on his Rorschach mask again and settled the fedora back on his head. Every nerve was raw with the amount of Immortal activity around him, but to any observer he was as calm as a Jellicle cat.  

[Kratos Krisna]

Greta was on her way to meet Colin about Lancelet and his panel on the history of Nubian archeology. Apparently there had been some disrupton of some kind. Because that panel was one of the first to occur on the first day of the con, such things had to be addressed immediately. As she was about to go into a secure area on Floor Five, and man dressed as... something came out of it. "What the hell are you supposed to be?" She inquired, betraying all of her annoyance in his penetrating a restricted area. "I am The Guardian of the Source" replied the gaudy cosplayer. "Never heard of you. Get lost, never come up here again, and I won't have you banned."  

[Kratos Krisna]

After shooing away the imbicile whose gracees seemed an invitation for all those present to behead him, Greta went into the employees only zone, and checked with Valka as to who had shown up.

"We've got everyone but Rameriz and Conner. Both of them are rumored to be dead, but Conner is also rumored to be hiding away in the Sanctuary. He's been there long enough to leave his emotionally needy daughter open to my... comraderie." She seemed too knowing and pleased with herself when she chose that word after some blatant deliberation. But traps for an absent man would have to wait. For now, they had to work on making sure that this convention didn't turn into a trap. Twice a year, they had to keep as many attendees alive as possible, to keep the authorities from suspecting what was going on. The puprose of Quickencon was to keep Immortals from being taken as reality by the general public. If they managed to identify a bunch of Immortals and Watchers in the process, well so much the better. They had told security and local police wherever they had held the convention to watch out for people with certain blue tattoos on their left wrists. Calling attention to a facet of their world while trrying to hide it probably seemed silly and counterp[roductive, but James Horton made it absolutely neccessary. He had even been picked out one year. And shot by a cop another year. But this year they had a known Watcher as a guest. So with his guest badge, and a photograph of what he looked like handed out to the staff, Joe Dawson had a reprieve.  

[Immortal Methos]

Methos casually made his way to a table on the mezzanine with a clear view of the lobby again below, keeping his eyes peeled for the Klingon who was Etienne or Duncan returning with Joe. In the meantime he leafed through the program book, rolling his eyes behind his Rorschach mask at the fan-boy nature of the whole thing.  

[Immortal Ghost]

Luana had sought some escape, even if it was just a floor up, getting away from the bustle of the first floor was a relief all on it's own, it had taken forever to get up here. That was the down side her politeness, she wasn't one to shove through people or interrupt conversations between people just to get past them. It wasn't a surprise that by the time she'd made it to the balcony over looking the lobby she sat down, automatically smoothing out she skirts. So far she'd been proven right that conventions were not her foray, she preferred quiet, and this, well this all seemed very much crazy, if there was any organization she failed to find it so far.

Would have to admit the merchants room was amusing, some of the things for sale had gotten her her to linger a few moments, Luana had even purchased some artwork. Would have to pick it up before she left, otherwise that had been all she spend money one thus far.

It had taken her a few moments before she realized that there was another immortal right near by, that wasn't such a surprise really, given the sear amount of people here. It seemed others had also found it in their better amusement to show up, she'd even recognized a few faces, a couple of those she rather have not seen again. Really she didn't feel like looking around to see if she knew this person or not, right now she was content enough with sitting and watching the craziness downstairs.  

[Gaston Marceau]

Increasingly convinced of the wisdom of changing out of the much to attention getting Klingon getup. Etienne Theriot, now bearing an uncanny resemblance to Gambit finally makes his way to the mezzanine level. Considering the crowds present, he is sure Methos will understand the delay in meeting up.

While he's still a bit dubious of the convention in general, he does find himself impressed at the creativity and craftsmanship that went into some of the costuming.present. He pauses at the entrance to the mezzanine area, leaning casually against his quarterstaff in pure Gambit fashion scanning the area for signs of Methos.  

[Immortal Ghost]

It was a mere glance up, hearing someone else enter the area, that made Luana break into a small polite smile and call out to them, "Etienne." Was a rare time she was forced to raise her voice, but it had been much needed, though her accent made her calling out a little easier to decipher from the calamity below. Also helped that she stood from her seat, delicate fingers automatically rearranging her skirt before she moved forward to greet him.

It was rather welcome on her side to see someone she knew, and didn't dislike, somehow it wasn't a surprise to see Etienne here, it fit in with his personality she supposed. Given he was in costume only made her smile a little more. "Guten tag Herr Gambit." So she was playing a little, the easy going mood of the convention had rubbed off on her some to say the least, given she gave a low curtsy before him.  

[Gaston Marceau]

Etienne turns at the sound of his name being called, his eyes lighting on the ball gown bedecked Luana. A broad smile crosses his features and he bends to kiss Luana's hand. "Why, mademoiselle Luana. How delightful to see you again, cherie."

He's half in Gambit character and half milking his own French/Creole background, so it works.

"I am increasingly surprised to see just how many of us are choosing to come to this bloody thing."  

[Immortal Ghost]

Luana pulled from the low curtsy with a soft delicate laugh at his own actions, light blue eyes gleaming in her amusement. Fidgeting fingers went to tuck strands of hair behind an ear, she wasn't quiet at ease here, mostly because of what he said, there were too many immortals here. No one would do anything to attract attention in public, and she could hold her own, thus far anyway, didn't mean she was thrilled though.

"Yes, though you're the only friendly face I recognize thus far." One out of too many faces she hadn't wanted to see again, "Can' be surprised though, the name of the Con was highly likely to grab attention. I only came across it in the paper and had to visit for myself." And really she hadn't much else to do, as it were she was still kind of between stages at the moment, and jobs, though she wasn't lacking money to rush things along.

Luana hesitated a moment before speaking again, "Are any of our mutual friends here?"