[center][h1][color=ed1c24]Baalphegor[/color][/h1][/center]
[b]Mexican Restaurant, Municipality of Lubao, Pampanga Province, Philippines - 1/1/2023, 10:15 AM, UTC+8[/b]
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No-one had objected to her presence yet, quite the opposite even. Baalphegor was pleasantly surprised. She had halfway expected to have to offer further proof of identity, but she supposed it was a sign of basic common sense that at least the "man in charge", Myron, had been informed of her coming prior and could preempt any concerns that she wasn't where she shouldn't be.

Behind her, she spied Mikasa not hesitating to swipe a chair from an unused table nearby and carrying it over to the one Task Force Obsidian was sharing. Baalphegor began to sit down, and the chair was already smoothly underneath her before she had a chance to fall. Smiling thinly, Baalphegor laid her cane across her lap, crossed her legs and leaned back in her seat, posture immaculate, as Mikasa remained standing and shadowed her just slightly to her right.

There was another late arrival she noted, a remarkably average brunette girl with doe-like blue eyes, hair pulled up with a bronze pin, equipment and bearing speaking to that of a soldier, yet undercut by a severe case of blatant social anxiety. The young woman paused in her approach, shoved down a blush a moment after it rose, then started being rather familiar with the Arms Masters for someone who looked like she was merely supposed to be part of their -still annoyingly absent- security detail. Disregarding the soldier's lack of professionalism, she was apparently personally familiar with several of the Arms Masters present.

[i]So, why is someone like her here? Nepotism? Perhaps she's a "handler" for that unstable Nil girl? She's acting surprised to see her, but that could always be a bluff... Hmmm?[/i]

Baalphegor's gaze narrowed sharply, as she peered at the assembled TFO associates with the lens of her spiritual sight, a haze of energy billowing around the table on a spectrum most of them likely didn't even know existed. Of course, there were obvious standouts like herself and the "Liberator", who was practically a walking tower of power barely contained to the vague shape of a man... though surprisingly a touch smaller than she was expecting based on his reputation. Conversely, the most "interesting" presence was that same "average" girl, who'd introduced herself as Private Kaitlyn Price. Despite not being listed amongst Task Force Obsidian's Arms Masters, her spiritual energy was [i]incredibly[/i] robust, enough so that Baalphegor was surprised the girl [i]didn't[/i] have a Noble Arm.

[i]Nascent potential...? I may need to keep an eye on that one.[/i]

Baalphegor found her attention pulled back to the more conventional spectrum when she actually paid attention to what Myron had just said to her in full... and the way it made Mikasa stiffen behind her in quiet hostility. for her own part, Baalphegor's amiable smile didn't quite invert, but her expression quickly turned chillingly flat at Myron airing information about her abilities out in a public setting rather than a private conference room.

"[i]Mr. Makaraig[/i]," she didn't quite hiss, her demeanor unnervingly composed despite the lilt in her tone, "I read your dossier..." She paused, letting that statement speak for itself. "I won't waste time questioning why someone of your... [i]background[/i] was given such a position of authority over Arms Masters, nor do I care to hear apologies from you on behalf of those [i]insectile[/i] relics."
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She did recall The Disablers. How could she not? Those pathetic, transparently envious worms that sought to drag the powerful down to the level of the mediocrity rampant in the lazy masses had done more to damage her obscurity as an Arms Master than anyone prior or since. Prior to their attacks on herself and her holdings, Baalphegor had managed to do a very good job concealing what she could do in its near entirety. Yet, under a sudden zealous barrage of assassination attempts from those that saw a prosperously successful Arms Master like her as fundamentally intolerable, regardless of her -then thought- "weak" power, she had been forced to show her hand far more than she liked. Her durability? Revealed. Her regeneration? Revealed. [i]Her hellfire used to leave nothing but ash of those that attacked her at a political gala?[/i] Oh, so [b][i]very[/i][/b] revealed. They'd tried poison, bombings, attacking her employees and intimidating or killing her business associates for being "traitors to mankind".

That had been the point when Baalphegor stopped merely being a growing corporate giant focused on stocks and law and instead transformed into a veritable general of the war on terror. She had been [i]vicious[/i] in sponsoring efforts to sever the Disablers from any support base she could reach on a multi-national scale, attacking them as much politically as economically, and she had [i]personally[/i] sent out her contracted Hellborn to exterminate with [i]prejudice[/i] their operations where even a sniff of them dared to believe they could advertise their "message" to the light of day. Her campaign was [i]relentless[/i] and utterly fearless of personal casaulties amongst her Hellbound, doing everything in her power to make an [b][i]example[/i][/b] of the [i]bottom-feeding [b]wretches[/b][/i] that had dared to make an enemy of her over such ideological [i][b]drivel[/b][/i].

Sadly, such was the nature of guerilla movements that even in the present day, The Disablers still existed in some form, but Baalphegor was [i]quite[/i] vindictively proud of her contributions to their decline, prior to the Big Three nearly being the final nail in their coffin. Ironically, the Disablers' efforts to make her into an example for their cause had only accelerated her rise by empowering her with a casus belli to enact merciless retaliation upon them that the public would view as justified. It had also resulted in her becoming a lot "closer" with a number of politicians whose lives she'd saved and led to her making connections in the United States' military industrial complex.

At this point, it was difficult to have heard of Baalphegor without also knowing of her borderline [i]legendary[/i] grudge against The Disablers and her strong opposition towards the United States withdrawing as the World Police, having lobbied extensively in favor of keeping the spark of official counterterrorism efforts alive while sponsoring independent ones on her own dime when necessary.
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Baalphegor barely managed to avoid sneering openly at Myron's attempt at creating equivalency between his history of outright terrorism and The Liberator's own legacy of loyal service as a law-abiding American citizen. As if to twist the knife, Myron managed to also air the dirty laundry of the most powerful person in the room in the same breath in a situation where the team was supposed to building positive relationships. And now, not only was the team being introduced to The Liberator under the header of "was prejudiced against Arms Masters", but the way Myron worded it managed to also imply he [i]still was[/i] and considered being an Arms Master himself to be a burdensome "sacrifice".

Sure, it might even have been true, but that wasn't the point!

"If you want to apologize for anything that you have actual authority to speak on," Baalphegor finally added with deceptive calm plastered across her visage, as her pulse quietly thundered with irritation, "then you will [i]immediately cease[/i] airing compromising information -tactical [i]or[/i] personal- outside a private conference room... to say nothing of how careless statements might slander your allies who came here in your time of need."

She glanced at Everett Gilman, the (in)famous Liberator, darling miracle child of America's fumblings with Occult Programming Language, and wordlessly inclined her chin. One could perhaps call her interjection a kind of olive branch to the walking advertisement for patriotic American Superiority, despite that in nearly any other setting, she might as well have been the Lex Luthor to his Superman. For now, however, they were nominal allies, and she intended to convey as much.

Her slitted golden gaze snapped then to the Japanese royals shamelessly attempting to curry some sort of favor from her right on the heels of Myron's chatter, as she heard Mikasa's teeth grind just barely within her earshot. "[i]That[/i]... goes for all of you." Her eyes narrowed minutely, flashing between Myron and the royals, before settling on Shinyahito and Fukuyo. "I'm not certain where you acquired the misconception that I have any solution for whatever [i]issue[/i] you feel disinclined to actually specify-" Nor why they thought she should care the slightest whit about the abnormal circumstances of their birth. [i]Just why?[/i] Nor why they thought the problem the Crown Prince had was obvious. [i]It definitely isn't![/i] "-but you must be mistaking me for a [i]far more dangerous[/i] 'devil'."

Her occasional associate and fellow "dealmaker", Mephistopheles, would surely have barely even hesitated to take these fools for everything they were worth and left the crumbling shells drying in the sun.

Before the royal siblings could consider spilling their guts further, Baalphegor held up a hand in forestallment. "If you wish for this so-called '[i]Lady of Deals[/i]' to maintain any consideration for your request, then you will [i]not[/i] elaborate further under this [i]very public[/i] venue. [i]Nor[/i], for that matter, will I discuss the particulars of my powers or [i]contracts[/i] outside a confidential setting. I was [i]purportedly[/i] invited here to engage in some mundane exercise in 'team bonding', but I will not tolerate the disregard of OPSEC for that purpose..."

Her frosty tone finally warmed then, as her flat stare transformed into something more friendly, her lips parting to finally bare a glint of shark-like teeth for the first time since her arrival. "I do hope I've made my position clear. I would hate for [i]misunderstandings[/i] to breed discord amongst us..."