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xp_logs2011-05-07 02:56 pm
x-dominion.livejournal.com) wrote in xp_logs2011-05-07 02:56 pm
X-Men Mission: Roller Derby Queen
Kane passes along the strange request to the Professor.
The files that sat on Xavier’s desk had been compiled by the FBI, but they read like a lurid stack of pulp novels or some twelve year old boy’s fantasy. They were full of teams named ‘Shevil Knevils’, ‘Rushin’ Rollettes’, ‘Junkyard Dolls’, and ‘Female Trouble’. And the names; Mistress May-Eye, Kelly O'Shanku, She Guevara, Mya Bloody Valentine. It was like a comic book come to life. It would be worth a good laugh until you considered what was involved underneath the faux-tough punny names.
“So, the upshot of all of this is that mutants have gotten involved in this sport. Where you have mutants, you’ve got a chance to up the crowd appeal with more dangerous matches, like those mutant fight clubs that sprang up a couple of years ago.” Kane said, coming to the end of his summary of the situation to Professor Xavier and Jean Grey. “It’s all underground, and this mouthbreather Tiboldt figured that if he could get bikers and gangs to ‘sponsor’ teams, he could sell it as bloodsport to the high rollers. The leagues have been going on for a while, mostly regional, but this is his shot at the big time. According to members of the ‘Long Harm of the Law’, at least half the girls who participate do so because they’re strung out on crank or Kick, or ‘owned’ by the sponsor gang, who will kill them if they try to leave.”
Garrison let out a breath and sat down in the chair in front of Charles’ desk, turned inward so he could face him and Jean. “The Bureau is pretty sure that there’s worse yet to come.”
"There usually is." Charles' expression was somber, a frown drawing his eyebrows down to shadow his eyes. "It seems that mutants are becoming nothing more than commodities, bought and sold and used." He roused himself from his thoughts. "I am sure the Bureau also has a plan, Garrison. One that needs our help?"
"This isn't anything new, Professor. It might be mutants now, but it's been regular women for a long time with these groups." Kane leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "Look, the girls we picked up made it clear that they had 'qualified' for the semi-finals of this illegal league. The big showdown takes place just outside of Vegas, and it is being used as a neutral space for a lot of regional biker groups and affiliated gangs to meet; a kind of greasy, biker scumbag convention. There's a lot of rumour and bullshit mixed into this, but we think that they're negotiating Kick territories. Up until now, Kick's been out of the hands of average mutants as a street drug because there's too little supply, and what there is gets fought over. If they can make a deal, they can carve out their regions, push back other organized crime elements, and open the floodgates. I'm talking street corner access to Kick for mutants. It's Magneto's wet dream and SHIELD's worst nightmare."
Jean leaned back in her chair after glancing over the rather colorful dossiers, resting her chin against steepled fingers .
"So our role would be to potentially break up both the illegal league and the drug dealer convention all in one fell swoop?"
It sounded like it might've been a tall order if that was the case, but if they had law enforcement on their side it would hopefully give them a better edge.
"Uh, sort of..." Garrison actually squirmed uncomfortably in his seat for a moment. "The problem is that the gang we busted - the Secret Empire - only has a seat at the table of this big meeting because of their team being the local champions. Because it's underground, pretty much the only thing most of the groups know about the team is the name. But, yeah, if we don't bring a team with us to the match, we can't get in. The FBI can't let the current team compete. Half of them don't want anything to do with it and the other half would be tempted to warn someone about it. The Bureau doesn't have enough trained female mutant agents to put together an internal replacement team either."
Jean tilted her head at Garrison, silent for a moment before leaning in.
"Garrison Kane, if the next words out of your mouth are asking me and the X-Women to put on skates, helmets, and kneepads..."
She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Probably a little of both. She hadn't been roller skating since...she actually couldn't really remember.
"You owe us. Big. Like...enormously big. You know that right?" "Hey, this is the only group of highly trained female mutants I know. All we need to do is teach you guys how to play roller derby and we're set. I mean, how hard can it be, eh?" Garrison said quickly. "I mean, little kids roller skate. Old people roller skate. Of course the X-Men are going to be able to skate. We find someone who can show you the moves, and boom, we're all set."
Jean rubbed her forehead with a skeptical laugh. "In the movies when someone says 'how hard can it be?' they usually eat their words," she said, then let out a sigh, shaking her head.
"Allison Blaire once told me she spent some time in a Roller Derby league back in the day. I can ask her if she might be able to help with any insider tricks. She can't come down, unfortunately, because she's still at Muir getting treatment but what information she could get us on the sport would probably be invaluable...and we wouldn't have to interrogate any of the girls you picked up for a lot of it."
"I've got some leads on other information sources as well. And I can set up the Danger Room as a training track for anyone who volunteers." He turned to the Professor. "It's not a traditional X-Men mission, sure, but at least we'll keep in the mission standard of ridiculous outfits to do good in."
Despite himself, Charles chuckled. "Very well. Let Mr. Duncan know that we'll be assisting - informally, of course - in his investigation. I will leave you and Jean in charge for the mission itself." He allowed himself a smile. "I am sure it will be a welcome change of pace for the team."
"Certainly a change of outfits."
Jean looked between the two with a wry grin. "Said the two who don't have to wear them. You're both loving this, aren't you?" she mused.
The files that sat on Xavier’s desk had been compiled by the FBI, but they read like a lurid stack of pulp novels or some twelve year old boy’s fantasy. They were full of teams named ‘Shevil Knevils’, ‘Rushin’ Rollettes’, ‘Junkyard Dolls’, and ‘Female Trouble’. And the names; Mistress May-Eye, Kelly O'Shanku, She Guevara, Mya Bloody Valentine. It was like a comic book come to life. It would be worth a good laugh until you considered what was involved underneath the faux-tough punny names.
“So, the upshot of all of this is that mutants have gotten involved in this sport. Where you have mutants, you’ve got a chance to up the crowd appeal with more dangerous matches, like those mutant fight clubs that sprang up a couple of years ago.” Kane said, coming to the end of his summary of the situation to Professor Xavier and Jean Grey. “It’s all underground, and this mouthbreather Tiboldt figured that if he could get bikers and gangs to ‘sponsor’ teams, he could sell it as bloodsport to the high rollers. The leagues have been going on for a while, mostly regional, but this is his shot at the big time. According to members of the ‘Long Harm of the Law’, at least half the girls who participate do so because they’re strung out on crank or Kick, or ‘owned’ by the sponsor gang, who will kill them if they try to leave.”
Garrison let out a breath and sat down in the chair in front of Charles’ desk, turned inward so he could face him and Jean. “The Bureau is pretty sure that there’s worse yet to come.”
"There usually is." Charles' expression was somber, a frown drawing his eyebrows down to shadow his eyes. "It seems that mutants are becoming nothing more than commodities, bought and sold and used." He roused himself from his thoughts. "I am sure the Bureau also has a plan, Garrison. One that needs our help?"
"This isn't anything new, Professor. It might be mutants now, but it's been regular women for a long time with these groups." Kane leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "Look, the girls we picked up made it clear that they had 'qualified' for the semi-finals of this illegal league. The big showdown takes place just outside of Vegas, and it is being used as a neutral space for a lot of regional biker groups and affiliated gangs to meet; a kind of greasy, biker scumbag convention. There's a lot of rumour and bullshit mixed into this, but we think that they're negotiating Kick territories. Up until now, Kick's been out of the hands of average mutants as a street drug because there's too little supply, and what there is gets fought over. If they can make a deal, they can carve out their regions, push back other organized crime elements, and open the floodgates. I'm talking street corner access to Kick for mutants. It's Magneto's wet dream and SHIELD's worst nightmare."
Jean leaned back in her chair after glancing over the rather colorful dossiers, resting her chin against steepled fingers .
"So our role would be to potentially break up both the illegal league and the drug dealer convention all in one fell swoop?"
It sounded like it might've been a tall order if that was the case, but if they had law enforcement on their side it would hopefully give them a better edge.
"Uh, sort of..." Garrison actually squirmed uncomfortably in his seat for a moment. "The problem is that the gang we busted - the Secret Empire - only has a seat at the table of this big meeting because of their team being the local champions. Because it's underground, pretty much the only thing most of the groups know about the team is the name. But, yeah, if we don't bring a team with us to the match, we can't get in. The FBI can't let the current team compete. Half of them don't want anything to do with it and the other half would be tempted to warn someone about it. The Bureau doesn't have enough trained female mutant agents to put together an internal replacement team either."
Jean tilted her head at Garrison, silent for a moment before leaning in.
"Garrison Kane, if the next words out of your mouth are asking me and the X-Women to put on skates, helmets, and kneepads..."
She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Probably a little of both. She hadn't been roller skating since...she actually couldn't really remember.
"You owe us. Big. Like...enormously big. You know that right?" "Hey, this is the only group of highly trained female mutants I know. All we need to do is teach you guys how to play roller derby and we're set. I mean, how hard can it be, eh?" Garrison said quickly. "I mean, little kids roller skate. Old people roller skate. Of course the X-Men are going to be able to skate. We find someone who can show you the moves, and boom, we're all set."
Jean rubbed her forehead with a skeptical laugh. "In the movies when someone says 'how hard can it be?' they usually eat their words," she said, then let out a sigh, shaking her head.
"Allison Blaire once told me she spent some time in a Roller Derby league back in the day. I can ask her if she might be able to help with any insider tricks. She can't come down, unfortunately, because she's still at Muir getting treatment but what information she could get us on the sport would probably be invaluable...and we wouldn't have to interrogate any of the girls you picked up for a lot of it."
"I've got some leads on other information sources as well. And I can set up the Danger Room as a training track for anyone who volunteers." He turned to the Professor. "It's not a traditional X-Men mission, sure, but at least we'll keep in the mission standard of ridiculous outfits to do good in."
Despite himself, Charles chuckled. "Very well. Let Mr. Duncan know that we'll be assisting - informally, of course - in his investigation. I will leave you and Jean in charge for the mission itself." He allowed himself a smile. "I am sure it will be a welcome change of pace for the team."
"Certainly a change of outfits."
Jean looked between the two with a wry grin. "Said the two who don't have to wear them. You're both loving this, aren't you?" she mused.