Weird Scientists.
It's around 9PM, and anyone in the general area of the gym would have heard the usual banging of metal in the middle of the usually ignored noises in Hell's Kitchen. After a precisely scheduled two hours in the gym, Leonardo steps out in his suit, the blazer long like a trench coat for winter. It's obvious he wasn't working out in that, but he takes a deep exhausted breath, then exhales the cold steam of the air from his pale pink lips.
As Leonardo exits the gym, and pair of men fall into step next to him, flanking either side. They aren't wearing anything as attention-getting as a trench coat - not in this section of town. Their clothes are dark and nondescript, the sort to not attract attention or recognition, and their hands burrow in coat pockets as they move. For the moment, they do not say anything. They simply walk.
Leonardo keeps walking, and after a while notices the men in dark clothing. He stops, letting steam flow from his nose a few times, then begins speaking without actually looking at either of them, "So, is this some kind of mugging, or are you just waiting to see my car?" he asks while mentally feeling them down for metallic weapons.
Observant. One of the men smiles, just slightly. "Mr. Maxwell?" asks the other, the one with neatly-combed brown hair as opposed to the black-haired man who looks slightly in need of a haircut. Weapons are there - a gun, tucked away and concealed but within easy reach, on both, but neither looks particularly ready to use them.
Leonardo turns around to face them both, delicately running fingers through his hair, as if to say 'Yeah, I'm hot.'. "I'm him, yes. Do you have some business with me? I don't recall angering any crime lords, well, no crime lords in the traditional sense..."
The other man, the silent one, arches skeptical brows at that raking of fingers while his partner edges in a bit, making the distance Leonardo has to stand between the two men somewhat narrower. "We have a business proposition for you, Mr. Maxwell. One we think you'll be very interested in. If you'll take a ride with us?"
"A ride? Sure." Leonardo agrees as his lips curl into an amused smile. "If this is a mugging, it doesn't sound like it'll be a boring one. Lead the way."
Dark eyebrows slip even higher. The brown-haired man looks amused for a moment before he glances across Leonardo to his partner and exchanges a nod with him. The silent man steps in to take Leonardo's elbow, and quiet falls on them both as they direct him around a corner and down a side street.
"Please take caution not to wrinkle my coat." Leonardo requests with a slightly disgusted expression, but follows them anyway. "Might I ask for a name?"
"Don't wrinkle his coat," brown-haired man instructs his partner, who glances briefly at Leo and then, as directed, eases his grip just slightly. After a pause, in which an unmarked car of stereotypical black appears in the distance, he adds, "You can ask."
"Then, what are your names?" Leonardo asks as he spots the car, then looks to the two men, and back to the car again. He doesn't say anything more, he's just anxious to get to the car, curiosity burning.
The silent partner leaves Leonardo's side to open the door, one hand remaining light on its frame. The other stands behind him, also silent for the moment. The indication is not subtle.
Leonardo slides into the car, not waiting to see if anyone is going to get in first. His demeanor is very entitled as he slides over to the window, sighing when he finally gets to sit down after all that working out. "So, start talking."
Black-haired man Looks at Leonardo. There is, for a moment, a pointed silence broken only by his partner's lean forward to murmur something to the man who sits in the driver's seat. The car lurches and then pulls forward, down the alley and toward a main street. Only then does brown-haired man turn back to Leonardo to share, "We hear that you have some interest in a mutant named Jamie Madrox."
Leonardo shoots a serious gaze at the brown-haired man when he mentions that name. "Perhaps, one of his duplicates was briefly patient of mine. Are you cops, or the FBI?"
"One of his duplicates." The black-haired man speaks for the first time, and then falls silent again as his partner picks up, "Yes, we'd heard that you had particular interest in his duplicates. Not quite like the real thing, are they?"
"To my knowledge, they're all perfect copies, but I've yet to find out if duplicates can create other duplicates." Leonardo admits as he raises a suspicious eyebrow. "Again, are you cops or the FBI?"
"Nothing of the sort," Brow-haired man assures, and this time his faint smile is a bit warmer. "Something rather different, actually. We have an interest in the boy ourselves. A rather vested interest. We're scientists, Mr. Maxwell." Or near enough.
"Well then, I'm very interested in sharing now." Leonardo sits up, folding his hands in his lap and putting on a bit of a casual business face. "Let's get to the point, shall we? What exactly is it that you want from me, and what are your plans for Jamie Madrox?"
"We plan to find out what we can," he answers plainly. On Leonardo's other side, the black-haired man keeps silent watch. Careful. "What exactly that means is in part up to Mr. Madrox. In part up to our team. And in part, Mr. Maxwell, up to you."
"Jamie Madrox will not help you, I can say this as a fact. He's idealistic, under estimates the potential of himself -and- his duplicates, and is incredibly emotionally attached to them." Leonardo adds with an exasperated sigh, shrugging. "So assuming you already know all of that, and would not pick me up from the street for no reason, I'm guessing you have some not-so-legal plan in mind."
"It does not particularly matter what Mr. Madrox /wants/." The black-haired man speaks again, voice a low rumble. His companion looks over at him and then adds, "Legal? I hardly think duplicate beings have their own legal rights, Mr. Maxwell. They are nothing more than copies, after all."
"Good good. Now, before we continue, if you -are- cops, I would like to remind you of a little thing called entrapment. Now..." Leonardo straightens his gloves, looking quite confident before he continues. "I fully agree with you, they should be generally viewed as a sack of assorted cells that happened to gain sentience by some fluke of nature. So tell me, what do -you- suggest?"
"You are interested in pressing his limits, then?" Brown-haired man wonders. His smile is easy and friendly, now. "We believe that understanding mutation - how it /truly/ works - is of the utmost importance, you see."
"Yes, I suppose I am. I would like to find out if duplicates can make duplicates, then they can be applied to many good uses. Medical testing especially, and if a telepath is ever available, military uses, and personal bodyguards. They'd just have to be rewritten a bit." Leonardo reveals some of his plans, eying the more quiet man for a moment, but places most of his attention on the brown-haired one.
"Rewritten?" the man prompts.
"Yes. While speaking to a telepath, I believe I discovered that it's possible to erase memories, but incredibly dangerous. I'm not sure exactly how it works, you'd have to ask a telepath. Now, if you take into consideration that they can erase memories, think of what else they can do, like give someone a desire, a desire to protect a specific person, perhaps." Leonardo explains, full of ambition.
"That /is/ something," the brown-haired man agrees, smile warm and encouraging. "That's certainly something to think about. You know a telepath or two, then?"
"I only know one, and she's one that we -all- know of. Trust me, she'd never help further these kind of goals. But if they can pass laws for telepathy, I can only assume that there must be quite a few of them around. Isn't it one of the most common mutations, back before mutants were even general knowledge?" Leonardo asks, taking out his PDA to type a few things. "The trick is finding one."
"Ah." There is a faint twist of distaste to the man's voice as he speaks the name: "Dr. Grey? Indeed. How /would/ one find others?" he wonders. On the other side, his companion remains silent, but ever-watchful of both Leonardo and PDA.
Leonardo doesn't type anything of note, well, except notes, taking notes of the conversation down. "Well, there's one incredibly simple way that may work, but I don't want my name tied to it." he warns before making his suggestion, "You could make flyers, offering to treat telepaths who can't find help. I hear Hell's Kitchen is almost a refuge for outcast mutants, so you may find -something-. If anyone comes to which ever location you decide, you simply evaluate them and tell them to return and they'll have help shortly. In the case of actual help, well, I can easily get help in that aspect from Dr. Grey, I'll simply tell her it's for one of my patients."
"You hear? Hell's Kitchen is a rather large locale, you know," the man points out mildly. "Finding any mutants at all is rather hit and miss - let alone something as specific as a telepath." Brows raise doubtfully. "You think those wanting help would respond to an ad placed by a complete stranger? That is a great level of trust."
Leonardo shrugs. "The desperate do stupid things. If you're not willing to gamble on uncertain odds, you'll never get anywhere." he offers his possibly destructive advice. "You never know when the one telepath who happens to be praying for a sign, will suddenly have a flyer hit them in the face. There's also the internet, you have to explore all options. You have to be willing to make a real effort."
"There are options, and then there is stupidity, Mr. Maxwell." For a moment, the voice of his companion goes sharp. "We are not willing to risk what we have established in /our/ desperation. If you choose to become a part of what we are doing, we expect you to exhibit the same caution."
"Fine fine, I suppose you're not just some common mad scientists, eh?" Leonardo asks as if he wasn't taking them completely seriously. "I'm not sure how I can help you, I gave you some suggestions. Money is about the only thing I have that would be of any use, and I have absolutely no proof that you can show results or intend to take any initiative in these plans of yours."
"Common mad scientists?" Bemusement fills one man's voice, while brief anger flares in the other's eyes. Brown-haired man leans forward. "Oh, Mr. Maxwell. We have already taken initiative. We already have /results/. We simply wish to do more. But funding, yes - that is a difficulty. We can hardly apply for government grants. "
"If you have results, then I want to see. I refuse to blindly hand out money to men who happen to know of my interests and the location of my gym, then invite me into their car. I may not be a couch potato, but I've seen enough movies to think this is a -tad- shadey." Leonardo says quite firmly in a tone that suggests he's all business when it comes to strange mad scientists and his money.
"I don't believe we asked you to, Mr. Maxwell." The voice from behind him, from the black-haired man, is quietly even. Too even. "You did accept our invitation," the other points out with a tipped head and an /extremely/ friendly smile. "You've been rather open throughout this entire conversation, really." The good-natured observation carries no hint of threat whatsoever. That doesn't mean it's not one.
"Perhaps I have some incredibly efficient security measures, in case you did happen to be law enforcement, or blackmailers." Leonardo offers in what is quite obviously a defensive threat. "So, if it's not my money you want, then what -is- it?"
"Oh, come now," Brown-haired man answers, waving a hand with a laughing dismissal, a good-natured 'let's not blow this out of proportion, my friend!' He leans forward with a smile and retrieves a square black electronic device from the front seat as he adds, "We didn't say we didn't want your money. Just that we wouldn't dream of asking you to invest without some concrete proof that we deliver results." Settling back once more, then device flips open to reveal a DVD screen that flashes into life at the press of a button.
Leonardo leans in to watch the screen, his attention is certainly captured now. "And what exactly is this?"
Both men remain silent. As the DVD churns its way into video, a picture of Jamie Madrox appears. He's housed in a small room with a high window and the sort of furnishings one might find in a prison cell. A disembodied voice murmurs some inaudible instructions, and Jamie stands and crosses to the door, just out of the frame of the video. After a moment he returns with a small tray of food and settles on his bed without a single glance up at the camera. The clip plays for a minute at most before Brown-haired man snaps the player shut. "A duplicate," he shares. "We've had him for nearly a week. Interestingly, no one seems to have noticed his absence."
"I wouldn't think so, Jamie Madrox is very poorly managed with his duplicates, you don't have to be a close friend to realize that much." Leonardo sits back, quiet as he takes in what he just saw. "Simply amazing. You have facilities to house people? Tell me, what's your next step with him? You have me interested..."
"We have the facilities to do much more than that. We're in the process of mapping out portions of his genetic structure, among other things. Once we've run all the tests we desire, we plan to study things of a more physical nature." Both men watch Leonardo with intent concentration.
"So do you think you can find out if he can make his own duplicates?" Leonardo asks the only question he can think of on the research. "And I'll help how ever I can, but I don't want my name tied to this in any way."
"Among other things." The man with black hair speaks again, quickly interrupted by his brown-haired companion to assure, "We're very good at secrets, Mr. Maxwell. /If/ you were to choose to invest, we would create an untraceable avenue through which you could provide funds. And we would offer you some access to the duplicate we possesss."
"That would be great. Though when requesting funds, I'll need to know specifically what the money is for. And I have a few suggestions for this duplicate, if you'll have time to meet with me again some time?" Leonardo nods to the two, surprisingly not smiling, just keeping a calm business demeanor.
"I'm afraid that's not possible." There's another smile, ever so polite. "Once the money is donated, it's up to our scientists to determine its use. I'm sure you understand. We must trust those we hire to do the jobs we hired them for, after all."
"Of course, I'll take that into consideration." Leonardo nods understandingly. "Do you mind meeting me at the same time outside of my gym tomorrow night?"
"That may not be possible," the man repeats with the same smile. "But we will be in contact again, shortly. Don't worry."
"Sure, though in the future, I suggest being slightly more accomodating and a lot less mysterious and shadey. Perhaps bright colors?" Leonardo shakes his head and looks out the window. "Your car, your clothing, you're practically screaming 'We're kidnappers.'."
"We'll keep that in mind," the man answers dryly. The car, by this time, has arrived somewhere in midtown. It merges through traffic to pull to one curb.
Leonardo moves to open the door when they stop, not exactly caring where he's dropped off. "Well, it was nice meeting you, and it was a very enlightening experience. Oh, and do I get any names before I leave?"
"I think it will be safer if not, Mr. Maxwell." The black haired man rises from the car to allow Leonardo to exit, and he smiles. Prettily.
"Of course. Oh, and labcoats, yes, wear labcoats, a very non-threatening fashion statement." Leonardo says in amusement in an attempt to show his lack of intimidation, then just exits, waving without looking back.
When the man returns to the car, he pauses long enough for a very, very heartfelt roll of his eyes and a mutters, "Good lord" as the car speeds away.
Leonardo meets some scientists, some scientists present an offering of a dupe, Leonardo is appeased!