Gods and Monsters: The Package

November 16, 2014: Rose Wilson comes to, only to be greeted by Waller. Floyd and Midnighter discuss man stuff. (NSFW)





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Mood Music:

One could call it a safehouse. Except, it wasn't so much as a house as it was a warehouse. A business topped the main floor, yet underground entries, possibly dating back to when the Freemasons built the tunneling beneath New York city was used to transport the unknown woman safely into Stormwatch's custody. There wasn't much to talk about, especially during transport. Waller held a stoic look upon her face and ignored all until the place was reached and orders were given.

For one hour, lab rooms were prepped and the woman continuously dosed.

The second hour, was the operation.

Third hour, a CADMUS girl specially handpicked and delivered to knit the flesh upon the base of the spine of the young woman.. Waller was getting creative.

And the fourth hour, she waits.

Whether Floyd was by her side and not partaking of the liquor cabinent that was in her office was one thing. No one needed to see the placement of the device
[OOC] Amanda Waller says, "blah, that got cut off, one more time!"

One could call it a safehouse. Except, it wasn't so much as a house as it was a warehouse. A business topped the main floor, yet underground entries, possibly dating back to when the Freemasons built the tunneling beneath New York city was used to transport the unknown woman safely into Stormwatch's custody. There wasn't much to talk about, especially during transport. Waller held a stoic look upon her face and ignored all until the place was reached and orders were given.

For one hour, lab rooms were prepped and the woman continuously dosed.

The second hour, was the operation.

Third hour, a CADMUS girl specially handpicked and delivered to knit the flesh upon the base of the spine of the young woman.. Waller was getting creative.

And the fourth hour, she waits.

Whether Floyd was by her side and not partaking of the liquor cabinent that was in her office was one thing. No one needed to see the placement of the device within the young woman, they only needed to know that it was /there/.

So there she waits, in the recovery room with the woman, one leg crossed over the other as she rests within the comfortable chair, ash tray and a pack of cigarettes laid upon the table, one tucked between slender fingers and the angle of her body towards a makeshift window with a shitty watercolor painting embedded within the bricks.

And the door was locked.

Floyd Lawton didn't really feel the need to follow Waller around. He wasn't a puppy dog and the Scotch bottle didn't seem inclined to always trail in her wake, so he mostly just sat around, smoked, and read a tired old paperback (Elmore Leonard, "Rum Punch" if you want to get specific). He's actually pretty presentable, having showered and shaved this morning - too much time in the armor always made him feel a bit like old sardines.

Finally, he makes his way into the recovery room, with all the surgery done, a smoke hanging from his lips as he stands behind Waller's shoulder, "Awful young for the life, ain't she?" he says. There's no judgment in it. He just doesn't want some green rookie watching his back just because she's got fancy schmancy powers or got bred like a show dog. Show dogs were stupid as fuck, for the most part. Like royalty and hillbillies. Too much inbreeding.

Since the altercation at the airport - really, that's all it was, it was too badly planned and executed to be called a fight or an ambush - Midnighter's been in New York. Originally, because he wanted to make sure that artifact was put into storage safely and then because they have better pizza than in Gotham. When word gets to him that there's a new 'recruit', his curiosity sends him down to the recovery room to look her over and assess her abilities. "What did she do?" he asks Waller. Cause the bomb thing is for criminals.

Nothing like getting ripped from one reality to the next. There is no amount of drugs that will ever duplicate that feeling, a drowning sensation, a loss of sensation and utter cold as one life is lost…

The ice cracks and slowly heat comes back to limbs, felt pumping through the limbs, that dosage of drugs coursing through, animating her even in the stasis they sought to keep her in - only a matter of time until they faded.

*Beep-beep… Beep.*

The monitor is regular, nothing abnormal save for when suddenly it flatlines, movement almost a blur as she is wrapping the wires of the machines and anything attached to her into her gri[p, slamming it inward as she shoots to get upright and stand upon the bed. An IV drip now the weilded weapon in one hand, the other a fistful of tubes and blood.

One eye stares forward, the other bearing a patch, obscured beneath the fall of white hair. "Fuck. You. All."

The last thing she remembered was getting on a plane…

Amanda answers no one. She was going to let them watch. Their adaption was possibly different than Rose's. They weren't ripped from another reality that murdered everyone that she possibly traveled with. That's right. The fight between Barbosa and Waller was a quick one, in the middle of a 747 in which Rose was snatched up and brought to perdition through the Hand of Ptah. One that Waller is having moved every other day by her command.

"That's an interesting set of words you got there." Amanda murmured, ashing the cigarette and dumping it out as soon as she took a hit. Smoke plumes from her nose in a quick cloud, and she does not bother standing to introduce herself. Or state where the young woman is.

"It would do you well to sit your ass down, and listen. You only get /one/."

Floyd Lawton drags on his smoke, knowing that Amanda will do the hard work of brainwashing/inducting/hazing the new kid. He's the old hand, at this point. He puts down his Elmore, in the middle of a bookie about to punch some dumb hooker in the face and looks up at Midnighter, "None of our business. Less you want everybody pickin' at your business, too. Which I doubt, since you walk around wearin' yer union suit like the Joker's about to jump out of the shadows at any minute. Which he isn't. You'd have heard him laughing by now if he was here. Fuckin' freak. I hate that guy."

"Sorry, you're not my type." Midnighter says without moving from where he's using his shoulder to keep a wall from collpasing. It's not like she poses a threat. He leaves it at that since he's curious just what Waller is going to tell the girl and how she got here. It's not every day you fall through a hole in space. He looks over at Floyd as he speaks up but isn't going to argue about it. Far as he's concerned, it is his business since he's chosen to work for the agency. "So we do agree on something. I haven't run into Joker yet." But he certainly won't be leaving him alive.

You baggage comes with you, even from one reality to the next, and after working for CADMUS, seeing what they do.. NOWHERE and the leashes they hold, easily implanted via tubes like this…

Blood in her hands.

She doesn't know the woman who speaks to her, she doesn't know where she is, and the other two men but she is counting, a sweeping gaze sizing things up quickly while the IV needle ripped from her hand is pressed between two fingers as a makeshift weapon in her fist.

"I don't take orders from anyone." Not anymore, not where she was from. Did NOWHERE find her? Shit.

Now she is lunging from the bed, the two men get the IV stand swung in their direction as her lunge with the needle laden fist draws back to strike at Waller.

Waller could hear them talking; not exact words, it all sounded like muffles behind the door, but she heard them all the same. She knows who's there, even if she chooses to look in that direction or not, which.. in this case? Was really advised against. And for good reason.

Amanda always does things with good reasons in mind; allowing the two men inside the room with a barely roused girl who's attacking the Stormwatch director could prove useless to her plans. It would be a three way fight that she really wouldn't want to get herself in the middle of.

With that said, as the girl leaps from the bed, all it takes was a quick and sharp swipe of the ashtray into the girls direction, hoping that would knock her into her senses if it actually connected where she intended it; right at the bridge of the nose. The sweet spot, one that would make little girls cry.

Amanda was only human, however.. but with good reflexes she stands from the chair to sidestep, hands lifted into the air to show that she was unarmed, but ready for a battle if it came down to it.

"You want to kill me? Go ahead. You die too." To further elaborate. "The boys out there won't be the one to do it, no. Even though I know that they could bust down this door in two seconds flat. But the second my heart stops?" Fingers curl and..


"Like I said, you only get one, and you're about to use it up. And there's a high chance I might beat you to holy hell before I set off that bomb a /different/ way. That's right kid. You got a bomb in you, just like the other sad little fucks that run through my path."

Floyd Lawton hears the kerfuffle through the door, eyes going that way once and then cutting back to Midnighter, "Just keep your jets cooled, Maverick. Boss needs help, she'll call for it. She locks us out, she did it for a reason. Waller's a big girl," he says, taking another drag on his smoke, his feet kicked up. "And you definitely ain't from Gotham, even if your boytoy is. Joker don't stay dead, old son. Everybody knows that. I see the Joker, I go the other fuckin' way, right fast. I don't need that kinda grudge on my ass. That thing between him and the Bat, that's, like, some God and the Devil type Biblical shit. Better to stay out of it."

Midnighter didn't even tense up in preparation to moving so he just gives Floyd a look. "She can take care of herself. Or there'll be a new director." Doesn't really matter to him when you get right down to it. "I don't have a boytoy at the moment. But if you mean the kid on the plane, he has potential and yes, he is from Gotham. But I guarantee the Joker would stay dead once I got done with him." Unlike the Batman, he'd make sure the body was in pieces. And/or burned to ash.

Rose is not one to play, she wants out, and it is like caging a rabid animal and pushing it to remember its senses. For several long seconds all she hears is white noise as a phobia and loathing mingle and the echo of Waller's voice fails to meet (common) senses.

The ashtray to the face is pummelled through like a wrecking ball. It hits her face and sends a seering pain through her sinuses, one that makes her lose vision utterly just before she impacts the desk and wall behind it where Waller once sat.

The IV stand is used to batter her way out, the chair in splinters thrown up and against the wall where shards of wood explode outward and bits herald around them. Now that stand is held out and forward like a trained sword, kept between her and Waller while the other hand is drawn back, that needle gleaning impending promises from betwixt knuckles.

"Two for two is a winning score." But she is taking a moment to let it sink in, and to get her goddamn eyesight back.

A little hop and skip would have made Amanda laugh after she did it, but anyone knows, a paper clip and a sliver of wood is a beasts worst enemy and that is something that she doesn't want to feel right about now. She'd rather have an ass boil.

They both were cornered, however. Each of their backs against the wall, and the only one who didn't dare attack was Waller. She was aware of the precarious condition, as well as the drugs that possibly still remained in her system. And yet, she presses on and continued to speak.

"And you're willing to take that risk? You're willing to end it all just like that without ever speaking to /him/?"

Yeah. She knows. About the three of them.

"You lot are definitely not the smartest of the bunch. That's for goddamned sure. And I hoped you would have gotten that gene from your mother."

Thoughts aside, someone really does need to set the Joker on fire. That would be fun to watch.

Floyd Lawton takes a sip on his Irish coffee, absolutely ignoring the chaos going on in the other room. He just smiles to himself. He's seen Batman in action. Nobody actually understands Batman until they have to fight him. Not the most fun clique to be in, but a sort of badge of honor. It's easy to think you're better until you fight the best.

"Sure, sure, you have fun with that, man. Like I said, I stay away from the Arkham crowd in general. Never even took work from 'em when I was freelance. Assholes, the whole lot." he says. As for Damian, he just raises an eyebrow, "Potential. Right."

"Wise of you." Midnighter agrees. As for Damian, he just shrugs as he watches what's going on inside. The boy moves like an assassin and is named in Arabic. There's many traditions in that area of the world that could have trained him. "Seems she knows who the girl is." Unlike Waller's hearing, his can make out words. Now he's going to have to find out who she is.

Rose doesn't ignore the fact that those drugs are still in her system, still slowing her, dulling her senses, but her vision is coming pack in the form of black patches and blinking lights, the IV post beng used to keep that gap between them adjusted a 'wee' bit. It was off by a degree due to the blinded moment.

"Who the fuck is /him/?" Now she is pressing forward again, swinging that IV post, but enough to catch the hooked leg of it in a splintered piece of the chair and throw it at Waller to give a moment before she is slamming it against the glass in an arching sweep. Trying to break free even still.

The mention of her mother has her pausing, her one eye narrowing like a crosshair on Amanda, all motion ceasing save those heavy breaths, that leer coming between stringy strands of white.

"My mother is dead, and took the enemy with her. It's a risk worth taking." That tension is singing down her spine now, evident in the slow righting of posture and the set of jaw that has her speaking through her teeth in a hiss.

That was her one. That wood that flung towards her was blocked with a shielded arm; it came at her face. Now, she was done playing, right to the guts as to why that woman was here.


That one answer; the answer to everything as to the reason why she wanted the hand, the reason why she pulled Rose from 616 to here. The reason as to why all of those people had to die if no one was there to safe them.

Just like the slaughter to find Jesus. But this one a bit more violent.

The swing of the pole to the glass causes a little crack, and a few more swings might cause it to shatter.

"Your mother was named Lillian Worth. I know how she died, and chances are, I know why." And there was an even slimmer chance that her mother was still out here, in /this/ world… but she wouldn't tell her that.

"Rose Wilson. You have questions that need answered and I'm the only one who holds that key. The key that you'll never get if you walk out that door."

She may kill her, after all.

Floyd Lawton will, of course, full Rose full of about thirty bullets if she comes out of that door with anything resembling violence. But that's neither here nor there. Floyd's confidence in Waller pretty much got confirmed when she came out of that portal ripping reality in two. Sisters are doing it for themselves.

"I would guess so. Not much point otherwise. I mean, she might keep some random superteen with attitude problems." *CRASH* from the other room. "But she's not really the maternal type. She's just another setting in the Swiss Army, same as the rest of us. Seriously, are you gonna keep wearing that mask all the fuckin' time? Doesn't it get sweaty? We ain't firemen, you don't have to always be dressed to jump on the truck."

Deathstroke. Now that's a name Midnighter's familiar with from when he rejoined Stormwatch under King. And somehow this girl is involved. Fascinating, to quote Spock. When the glass cracks, he doesn't react any more than Floyd does. "Why? You looking for a boyfriend and want to see if I'm pretty enough? Not interested."

Rose swings once more and is not satisfied until that glass shatters and splinters outward, and with the force behind that swing when she says her fathers name did just that. It was like a prom night dance with Carrie. Glass showered outward and her blood splattered across the pristine white wall from the loose vein the IV had been ripped from.

"My father did this?… He's alive?" Last she knew she stabbed him and her brother, ran her sword through them both to stop them. To save them. The IV stand now hits the polished floor with a clatter. Nothing more to say, in fact for a moment her eye goes distant and her hands are working in their empty state.

"My swords…"

The glass shatters, and Waller winces. It was then that she could see the men in full view, not in the cross hair lattice that decorated the window. Her hand holds up, halting them in case they moved. There need be no more violence, not in this ward. Unless necessary.

"Your father did not do this." She states plainly. "But, your name and his are the reasons as to why this is happening to you."

She pauses now, hands dropping, she was done. The girl asked for her swords but, in due time? She'll get them.

"No." She states plainly.

"You need to recover. You need to detox. You need to chill /the/ fuck out. And maybe.. just /maybe/, you'll be able to face your father." Maybe was a slim chance in hell. She walks towards the door now, hands placed behind her back in that militant way of hers, preparing for a hit and bracing for it, yet no outword tell shows. "And until then. You work for Stormwatch." She'll go through the comprehensive dental and medical packages later.

Floyd Lawton laughs at Midnighter, "Pffffffffft, like you could handle me," he says, then the glass crashes and he turns his head, "Jesus Fucking Christ! Somebody get Psycho-Kill Barbie some fuckin' tranqs already! I don't need to be pickin' glass outta my damn coffee!" he says. He does pull out a gun, though, laying it on the table. Never hurts. Plus, guns go with everything.

"Seems like an understandable response to me." One Midnighter would certainly be doing in her place. Except better. He pushes away from the wall and walks over to the shattered window to peer through it. He looks from one woman to the other, giving the girl a nod before going back to his original spot.

"I already work for Stormwatch. Who the hell are you? This isn't…." Nate… Spartan… Illy— "Where are my friends? Where the fuck am I?" Pausing as she now pays more attention to the two men and narrows her eye at Midnighter when he approaches. "Where's the man with a white patch in his hair? He was here." Oh no, she wasn't giving names now, this was a hot goddamn mess and the cheerleader was an angry black woman backed by a couple linebackers. Go figure. Her nights must be blurs… Why the fuck was she so angry?

Before she got up she was with Nate, here… But not… Now she just takes a few steps back and sits on the bed, slowly letting memories filter in, trying to piece them from reality to dream. She was not going to ask for permission to leave.

Yeah. Time to wake up, kid.

Amanda only smiles as she continues towards the door, unlocking it with a press of her hand through scanner, the locks click and slide out of place and the door is left ajar which is pushed open and left there. No sense in closing it, she already broke the glass.

Midnighters little look through and nod was gained a smirk, and a quick snap of her fingers to draw his attention. "I need you to hit Gotham. I have an assignment for you." Yeah. He was not going to like this one.

Her course takes her directly towards Floyd, hand striking out to take that gun that he laid upon the table to tuck it against her back. "Thanks." She reaches out to give his head a light push and.. reaches into her pocket for a phone. A number is dialed, phone pressed to her ear.

"Seoul. Get maintenance down here stat. Bring a tray of food. Whatever the kid needs." And then she's off.

Floyd Lawton sticks his tongue out at Waller as she pushes at the back of his head, drawing another cigarette, "That one leans a quarter millimeter right if you're firing left handed," he warns. He reaches down to the small of his back and pulls out an identical gun, slapping it down in the exact same place the one Waller removed had been.

"Ha ha, you're going to Gotham, you're going to Gotham," he teases Midnighter, then pops up out of his seat, grabbing his gun along the way to follow in Waller's wake, "Oh, and, last time I got sent to Blackgate, they called my area Cell Block Crooked Letter 'cause none o' those bitches could walk straight for a week after I got there. Please, son, you'd be my side piece, at best," he says, rolling in the wake of the boss with his fluid gate, spinning his pistol around his finger.

"Wait up, where we goin'?" he calls out to her back.

"You want me to kill Joker?" Midnighter asks, assuming Waller was listening in on the discussion. "Or do you want me to retrieve Deathstroke?" Thus letting her know he was listening in on hers, which she probably already knew. He studies Rose a moment before leaving along with Waller and her puppy.

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