Peeshes and Pancakes

November 18, 2014: It's all about the pancakes and bacon for Waller, Fantomex, and Ravager.

International House of Pancakes

IHOP, the temple of breakfasty goodness- that place that sees the strange
overlap of late-night college students hanging out and early-bird senior
citizens looking for a good (or at least satisfying) morning repast. This
particular locale maintains the franchise's standard look- with comfortable
booths in muted patterns, tables featuring the classic arched-back wooden
chairs and dark green carpet.

This particular locale seems is used to the comings and goings of the
super-crowd, and the far wall has a host of framed pictures of notable groups
of heroes (most of them on the young-ish side) who have stopped here for one
reason or another. Busy servers dart to and from the kitchen taking orders
and carrying dishes to their respective tables. No matter the hour, this
particular IHOP seems to enjoy a decent level of activity.



  • <Name of NPC or "None">
  • <Use same pattern for all npcs>

Mood Music:

Put the word Mother, in front of the word Country, you think of a place that is safe.

Put the words International House in front of Pancakes? You got yourself a fucking mighty fine meal. Ravager was medically cleared, what did that mean? She had a full bill of health, the metals within the bomb that was placed just at the base of her spine didn't leak into her bloodstream and make her sick. She had great mobility in all extremites, and aside from being a little jackass, she was completely fine.

All she needed to do was eat pancakes.

Pancakes, smothered in peeshes. With some awesome, weird ass mix of syrup to top it off.

And there's bacon.

And there's Amanda.

She had her own little section cornered off and guarded, somewhere far in the back in the shadows with Rose, picking at the mountain of bacon on her plate which was soon tossed aside due to the increasingly taste of salt and need of a drink.

"Eat up." Amanda states. "I'd rather you be overwhelmed on a full stomach."

Rose might have a full bill to check out on, but it doesn't mean she cares to eat anything outside of her dosage of pain pills post-op. She made sure to have a fistful shoved in her scrubs pocket.

Shopping, and then food. She was not going to be wandering around in some fugly ass scrubs and their sad excuse for booties in the winter, and the shoppe they stopped at has her suffering de ja vous.

Now at the Pancake House of Illustriousness she stares as the food over the brim of a steaing cup of coffee her pale hands remain wrapped around until they regain feeling, still having not taken off the fingerless gloves.

"I'd rather hear it before I put something in my stomach to expel." The white haired girl states without any inflection in her voice, instead her fingernail picks at a small crack in the mug.

While Rose got through surgery and recovery, Fantomex went researching. In truth E.V.A. has been parked in the environs of the facility where Rose was kept for a week, but she is a hard-to-see flying saucer. Just like her partner.

It is maybe the time to confront Ms. Waller again. Besides, who could resist international pancakes? The chances of getting shot in a restaurant are also considerably less than if he just sneaked into the woman's office. At least he hopes so. So he is seated a few tables from Waller and Rose, weaving misdirections to avoid guards and spycams. But he is going to let both women see the real him soon.

Coffee sipped, bacon eaten. Again, and again. It was just a regular meal, something she'd usually partake of alone, or with a little puppy by the name of Deadshot bitching and hanging off her back.

"Alright then. Straight to business." She states, pushing the plates aside so that she could lean over to retrieve the briefcase she carried with her on their little trip. It's rare, that people would go shopping with Waller, she had her bags too, but they were left in the car that they arrived in.

The case was flipped open with two clicks of her thumb, the contents stared at, and soon retrieved.

First, a set of keys, which were dropped near Rose's coffee. Second? A business card.

"Contact this man to finalize the contract to your new bank account. It's untraceable, and located in a country that we're sovereign to. It'll be monitored constantly by Stormwatch, but not to track your spending habits, but to track anyone who decides to run the numbers to find out who the bank account belongs to."
Rose's eyes flick to the keys as they skid to a stop beside her hands, left untouched. The business card is now stared at but also left untouched as she raises her mug to her lips and finally sips. Nothing more unsightly then burning you lip and having it resemble a herpe, and right now - Rose has all the damn time in the world….

"See, I knew if I ate it'd end up having the aftertaste of shit." The mug shakes slightly as she sets it down, containment, it body flashed the warning signs of it. Thanks to jagged little pills she is giving about as much of a fuck as the amount of sugar in her black coffee.


"So basically, my aching back is radiating warnings of. Whether or not I call this guy it doesn't matter because I have to work, and if I want paid for what you're going to make me do, I need to call him."

Once a mercenary always a mercenary.

That is about when Fantomex makes his presence known. There is this guy in white, masked, armed, having coffee two tables away and in an area supposedly guarded. And he might have been invisible ten seconds ago. When the women see him, he tips an imaginary hat with two fingers of his right hand. "Bonjour, breakfast is good, I hope."

Amanda scoffs. It wasn't loud, but there was a roll of her eyes that went along with the sound that drew from her mouth as long envelope, thick and nearly busting at the seams is pulled from the contents of the briefcase. "Christ, kid. It's like you came from the left nutsack of Midnighter." Seriously, she didn't know who was bitter, ye old Asshole or Rose. It was grating on her nerves.

"And yes. You're right. You come when I call. Which, if you're lucky, will be few and far in between. I'm not going to keep a leash, but I will attach and tug when I need to. I'm not spending and wasting money on you for naught."

Her coffee was soon sipped, the package tossed her way. They'd be filled with passports, ID's, aliases, social security numbers, means for her to disappear should she need. All of them tracked, naturally.

Though, it wasn't until the emergence of the man in white, who soon gets a tight lipped stare, eyes squinting in a bit of anger.

"What do you want."

"From what I heard I'd have to be a clone to come from his nutsack, or turkey baster injected. Neither of which I am or we wouldn't be having this conversation." Rose doesn't seem amused even in saying what she did. It's flat, matter of fact. Truth.

The envelope is left sitting but glanced at, another sip of her coffee taken before she set it down again and scowled at one of the names that slipped from the envelope. "Plus its /good/ genes that made you rip me from my home… Patricia Ennis… P. Ennis. Really? Did you look at this written out? No." Rpose throws that identity back at Waller to slide across the table and stop at bacon before she slumps back against her seat.

The leer from Amanda and the mans words now have her glancing between the two with that one frigid eye. "Am I interrupting?"

"Universal peace and goodwill on Earth," replies Fantomex without hesitancy. "And maybe the white-haired beauty's phone number." He smiles behind the mask. "The first one is unlikely to happen right away, but it occurred to me some small steps could be taken today. I am quite sure I have some useful information to trade."

He looks at Rose bows slightly, "nice to see you awake. You are taller than reported and twice as fetching. I hope Ms. Waller is treating you well."

Even though her words were dry, it caused Waller to grin, and laugh inwardly. "Don't be so full of yourself. You don't know your father like I do." At least, not in this world, but what was the difference. The envelope was glanced at, frowned, and pushed back towards her with as much force as she could muster. There possibly could have been smatterings of coffee that toppled from her cup. Though, to Fantomex?

"Useful information to trade? And if you give me that information, what am I to give you? In fact, what is stopping me from blowing your goddamned brains out after I find said information to be lacking? Hmm?"

Probably his little flying saucer, probably the girl next to her, probably the hordes of people that would stop her from actually taking a life where there was no need to. Most, would be upset that she didn't give the command and did it herself. Most would be upset that she actually did it herself and got her hands dirty.

"She's being a bitch." Rose states to Fantomex bluntly, her coffee now refilled from the carafe, the grip still bearing slight tell tales of tremors but she is steadying them with a purpose.

Aside from describing Waller to the nines Riose is now getting someone else to settle crosshairs on. Flattery will get you everywhere, but not with Rose, not when she's been rubbed raw. "I don't have a number for you, and if I did it'd be yours…" He helped bring her here? Now she was glowering even more.

"Apparently you know my father enough to desire what came from his left nutsack. I sense /tension/."

"Madame, I can't be killed by something as prosaic as having my brains blown up," replies Fantomex, making a conciliatory gesture with his hands. "I come as a friend, if I am not wanted, I can go to Nicholas Fury with my information. But… well, I suspect he already knows most of what I can provide him. It would be more valuable for you, and so it would more valuable for me."

He glances at Rose again, her hostility and anger quite obvious. "Please, don't blame us of your arrival here. The man responsible was a madman, and Ms. Waller did the right deed by killing him." Putting a bomb in her head was maybe excessive, but what does he know? "Occupational hazards from fighting… what's the world. Super-villains, Oui?"

A look was shot to Rose, but she was pretty sure that the girl wouldn't give a shit. Either way, the entire briefcase was slid towards Rose for her to carry home on her own. She wasn't going to go through the entire process of inducting the woman properly, she could read, sign the papers, or.. be paralyzed or possibly die from her injuries. Or possibly heal. Who knows. Either way, she'd be in a world full of hurt and possibly hunted.

She draws up from the chair in which she sat, leaving it pushed away from the table as hands sink into her jacket to retrieve a card. Threatening to go to Nick Fury? It was frowned upon yet dismissed with a toss of a card upon his table, stopping nearby before she walks out. "Fantomex." She states clearly. "Meet me there in three nights time. Rose. Finish that goddamned paperwork and leave it at the drop site."

Which was written, if she was smart enough, in code throughout the contract.

"I'd get joy out of beating someone's head until the white meat shows. If it doesn't kill you, less guilt." Now Rose is smiling over the rim of her mug, her foot that is planted on the ground before her chair lifts, the arch rising to push the chair in a light rock back, twisting it now to leave a clear shot of observation between Fantomex and Waller - Rose gloriously in the middle.

Now though, her hand extends to slide over the papers and the card, as well as the keys, gathering them up in one motion of fingers curling and collapsing in, crinkling it all and stuffing it on the inside pocket of that leather coat. Studded, zippered, corset laced at the side…. But lacking…

The legs of the chair crash to the floor and she rises, taking the briefcase as well and tossing it over her shoulder like it was a fancy Gucci purse.

Passing Fantomex she pauses, twisting ever so slightly at the hips to lean down over him in his seated booth, white hair spilling over her leather clad shoulders as her face hovers just before his.

If he doesn't stop her one hand rises, fingertips taking a walk up his chest with every syllable.

"You'd be welcome to join me." One finger hooks just at the opening slit of his mask, tugging enough to rock herself dangerously closer. "If that space was not already very well occupied."

Lying, but he found her, it was real. Right? She wasn't giving up. Even if it meant being the angrier Oracle.

Fantomex catches the card before it touches the table, palming it away as a stage magician. "Hopefully not to have my brains blown up. It is always such a mess," when Rose comes close, he stands up. Before her can offer to help her find her way, she preventively shoots him down. Clever and annoying. He chuckles. "Sacre bleu, someone moved very quickly, I am impressed and envious. And maybe a little sceptic," because her doubt is painted in her face for him. "But I'd settle for friendship, if amour is impossible, chere."

He is a much better liar than her.

Amanda stops upon Rose's motto. Okay. That was new. She actually appreciated the little shit but.. she wouldn't dare tell it. Her little rag-tag team of minions was shaping up pretty damn nicely. Soon, all she'd have to do is give orders and never accompany. Attitudes like that? People looking for death? Rarely, rarely ever get their wish. And they're a blessing to the overall mission.


Those were the only words she spoke, whether it be praise or the way they flirt, or maybe it was Fantomex's words towards her alone may have caused it. With hands tucked within her pockets, she strolls on out, possibly thinking that a quick vacation in Madripoor (ie. putting her boys against that other womans boys and watching them duke it out while drinking cocktails in 1000 thread count robes) may be in order.

Back to: RP Logs

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License