I'm the Bad Guy

[Dr. Facilier]

Facilier remained somewhat silent as he watched the others pose their questions to the monster with four faces. Violet eyes went back and forth, paying attention to their questions and concerns. He sighed rather audibly, as this felt more like an interrogation than a meeting. A deck of tarot cards appeared in his hands with a puff of purple smoke. He shuffled the deck from hand to hand, as Scar posed his question.

Without so much as a word, he slowly pushed himself up from his chair, sipping down the last of his coffee in one smooth motion.

“Tabs, let me know later on where you’re gettin’ your coffee. It’s the best I’ve ever tasted.” Facilier said, displaying his gap toothed grin. He then approached the alien, holding out a card to him, before whirling around on one foot in front of the others, to show them the card as well. It displayed three wands.

“Now I’m not real used to doin’ group readings, but from what I can tell, it looks like Tabs here will be mighty successful in what he’s plannin’. Maybe we should put a little trust in our fellow soldier here.” Facilier drawled. He drew a small bag from within his overcoat, and emptied it into his palm. He then blew into the powder, and immediately, their surroundings changed.

Now, they were all in the throne room, looking down upon rows upon rows of soldiers. It was all a simple illusion, but enough for what Facilier intended to do. He gestured toward Tabs, but kept his attention on the others, violet eyes trained on their expressions.

“How about we let him demonstrate?” Facilier said, flashing them a grin.

[Tabs]

While everyone had their attention off of him, Turbo had somehow gotten into a chair of his own, almost as if he just magically teleported there -- in fact, that very well might have been the case. The video game sprite continued to display an extremely comfortable demeanor that could easily be taken as being bored or disrespectful. He lay slouched sideways in his seat, one leg hanging off the arm of the chair, the other folded so his knee was almost against his chin. He said nothing, but he did stop bobbing his leg after a while.

Turbo frowned. He could totally con some suckers too if he wanted -- he wasn’t impressed.

~*~

Tabs, on the other hand, was exhibiting saintly patience. He’d allowed a pause in his speech for long enough that he felt he gave everyone a fair chance to speak up. The being was prepared to explain his logic behind the approach he wished to use to unify the Legion. Had Facilier not produced his illusion, Tabs was about to spell out his plans in plain English. This was going off script. But perhaps this was better than what Tabs initially planned to do. A magician should never give away their tricks.

His hoofs returned to the ground and he was bound again by gravity. Without any further hesitation, he dove into another improvised speech.

“We are the people others would shun. Those who seek change. Justice. Protection in the face of a world who sees them as outliers. That’s what I see. I see the ones who fight back against a society who have dealt them an unfair hand and are labeled the villains because of it.

“I see common trends in many of our friends here. There have been others with more power above you; they may have been cruel to you, they may have been incompetent and unwilling to listen to you, or they may simply have been completely ignorant of the troubles of those below them. There have been those who have been persecuted for the so-called ‘dark magic’ they practice -- and, I think funnily enough, our rivals also use magic themselves… what’s it called when they do it? And for some, well, their sole crime is wanting to survive in a harsh existence. We’ve been wronged. We’ve been hurt.”

Tabs then hesitated. What came next was jarringly real;

“I know why I came here. Look at me. Really look at me. What am I? I am an abomination against nature. There is nothing else like me. Who else would want me?

“Even I feel like I might belong here.”

[Mortaray]

Sectoral heterochromic hues were quick to flick their attention onto Crow as he inclined his head. His agreement to what he had inquired had any sort of anxiety that might have been lingering within his soul to quickly become quelled. It was rare for the skinwalker to feel off-put but as of late he felt almost disjointed from the rest of his comrades, despite hardly knowing them.

His gaze flicked to each individual as they spoke, listen to what input they had to place towards Tabs but it was only when Facilier took his turn to perform that Mortaray seemed to give that full interest. Not that he hadn't been interested in what his fellow comrades had been saying, it was just very clear that as always Facilier would have his utmost and undivided attention. Thicks as thieves they were.

There was hesitance clear on Mort's features for a long moment but he held his judgment for now. Watching as Tabs 'performed' for them, his dark brows creased together slightly. Unsure whether to be impressed or still unsure. His speech was somewhat moving, it didn't precisely work for him as he didn't come here for the reasons most did but he was under the belief it would work for driving in more people, more bodies, that they would need. He hesitated before casting a glance towards Crow to see what he would think.

[Crow]

  Though invisible to his peers, a satisfied smirk pulled at the corner's of Crow's mouth. Tabs certainly had the skills of a performer, there had been no doubt about that already, but he displayed better than that. Sincerity. A vulnerability that his audience could latch onto and relate. Tabs could present himself not just as a face, but a friend, and Crow couldn't help but admire how seamlessly he slipped into the role.

  He had to be careful in his choice of reaction, as it too could hold influence in the others' opinions. Crow felt Tabs suitable for the job, and while he wouldn't openly share it, it was a job that Legion genuinely needed. So, hooking his cane around his arm, Crow's hands lifted together and clapped. Not a boisterous one, of course, but also not slow or insincere. A light applause, muted both by his gloves and his restraint.

  "My, my. You truly are a natural, Mr. Inquirer." Crow's tone was pleasant, with just the slightest touch of impressed. "If I hadn't known any better, I would have assumed you and the good doctor rehearsed for us."

[Tabs]

No, Tabs thought, I’ve only become very good at faking confidence.

Under his own power, and perhaps even as a sort of display to prove he wasn’t only good for talking, he began to dissipate the illusion around himself -- creating a small misty bubble of reality around him. He intended to bring things back around to the present and his proposition. Deciding he would put that expertly crafted mask of confidence back into use, he bounced a bit on his hooves, tapping his claws together in an almost childlike sense of glee.

“Then I take it I’ve got the job?” he purred, sounding as if he already knew the answer.

Eight red eyes tracked across the gathered Overseers. Slimy fangs curled into a smile so big, the corners of his mouth practically spiraled around each-other. His clasped claws shifted somewhat into a pose less innocent, more cunning. The white-blue of his screens appeared to glow even brighter.

“I can hardly wait to begin.”