Mu Ren Zhuang

August 08, 2015:

Newly minted Authority members are gathered to train; yet it seems Toyman had another agenda.

LOCATION REDACTED

Characters

NPCs: The Absolute Mutherfuckers Arcade and Toyman

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

They were still somewhere.. no one really knew where they were but just that they were there. But they had their own rooms and facilities, and that was alright with Rant. But.. it was another training session, in the dead of the night, each were woken up with a tap of the door and the lights that automatically turned itself on. The path and destination was given through the speaker phones within their room and were told to arm themselves with blades they were outfitted with, or came with.

Except for Bruce Banner, his directions were completely different.

But the crew of three entered into a room that was made of pure metal, from the left and right wall, the ceiling.. save for one circular room that Bruce Banner was escorted to, fielded with controls and monitors.

"This is the turret room." One voice calls over the speakers, "Many would have perished in this place but thankfully we have people on standby to reattach limbs and heal wounds."

Melody looks away at this mention, her lips pursing tightly.
"Though, I don't think this is a turret room, it's really a death trap."
"Shut up, Jack. Start the program. Bruce, monitor vitals and.. smoke that weed."

Alexander's mood has been decidedly neutral during his time in the base of operations. He's performed adequately through each test placed before him, at least the ones that he was suited for, but even a saint has a limit to his patience where he just wants to ask people to pray to someone else already. Alexander is in a similar situation, wearing those black fatigues and with Grass Cutter slung over his back and held tight by a leather strap. He looks up at the beginning of that test chamber. Finally, after all this time, his expression sours.
"Remind me to talk to Slade about his hiring practices."

Lunair isn't really sure about praying. She's met gods. She knows they exist, but do they like prayers? She's never sure. Some of the tests she's balked at internally, but she's fairly easy going and well aware of what happens during outright rebellion. She will meander in, though she's - likely in similar clothing. Black t-shirt, and that black and white camo pants. Yes indeedy. She has a nice slushie in hand, though, sipping away cheerily.

"Oh wow." She looks around. "Hi there!" Pause at Alex. She looks a little confused. "Turret room?" She knows what a turret is and what they often do but …
Bruce Banner leans back as he keeps track of the various dials and monitors. He'd adjusted quickly enough since joining the team, although he hadn't exactly bonded with any of the members as of yet. Bruce wasn't really big on the bonding. Or the other human beings in general, really. Still, he'd committed to this venture so, for the moment, he was going to try and be a team player, the best he could. Part of that was doing exactly as he's told, lighting a fresh spliff and inhaling slowly, letting the cannabis keep his nerves under control.

"Roger that, Rant, Doctor Banner is flying the friendly skies. Don't worry, though, I've still got my eyes peeled and I'm sure this thing won't decapitate any of you. Okay, strike that, I think there's a relatively low probability any of you will be decapitated. I don't have enough data to give an absolute guarantee.

Yeah. About that. Rant was there. Blades already in her hand, hands shaking as she looks nervously to and fro about the room, her mouth dry as she takes in a deep inhale of a breath to try to steel her nerves. She didn't like their training sessions, dealing with the Hulk was easily because he kind of sort of liked her. He saved her once. Bonding was alright, because all Melody did was listen.

And well.. this? It was madness.

"Gee. Thanks." She mutters beneath her breath, spacing herself away from everyone else as one of the technitians presses the button. The floor opens up in front of them, revealing metal stumps that are at least six feet in height. Squares soon open to reveal blades, giving it an almost Mu ren zhuang look. (Wing Chun Dummies) And those blades begin to spin at a rapid pace.

The floor begins to split apart in thin lines to allow the turrets themselves to operate, and without fail, they immediately begin to charge at the three waiting. One turret for each person, pushed to super max, and almost immediately?

Melody runs away and starts to cry.

A shrug is given to Lunair, then Alexander looks ahead as the training hall's mechanisms begin to activate. He grimaces slightly and draws the red-bladed katana with one smooth motion that causes the metal to ring faintly. "Try to stick close if you feel you need support, I'll try to cover you." And as soon as he finishes speaking he darts forward. As his father had taught him, it's not enough at times to let your opponent come to you.
He rushes forward, boots squeaking faintly on the metal floor. He begins to test the movements of the practice dummy by striking out at it with the side of his blade, perhaps testing… or perhaps just half-assing it.

"…" Lunair looks concerned, as Melody runs away. That's - "Um, hey, we're here if you want to— It's okay! We're -" Pause. Alas. Poor Lunair is trying. But she's got a bit of a problem when it comes to words and peopleing. "You can do it— oops, hang on." Lunair only has a second to get light power armor up and soon she has an electrified chain whip (grounded handle because duh) and a naginata slung on her back. Just in case.

She's been working hard on melee combat, and nods at Alex. "Okay. I doubt you need my cover but-" Well, she'll do her best. And admittedly, she is pretty dang good with that chain whip, the slliiiiiiinking noise loud as she swings out to grab one of the opponent's weapons.

Bruce Banner frowns as Mel runs away, quickly hitting the button on the security settings to de-activate her as an active target for the system, leaving Lunair and Phobos on their own in dealing with the various weaponized machinery. "Rant," he says, careful to use her codename, "It's okay, take your time. You can sit this one out if you need to," he says. NOt that shse needs his permission, of course, but he isn't exactly sure what else to say. He would come out to chec kon her, but the others are still mid-testing and he can't exactly leave the monitors unattended - the aforementioned decapitations might commence.

Forrest Gump ain't got nothing on her. Melody was -gone-. Part of being a meta-human, she was faster than the average bear and stronger, but as soon as she reached the entryway she banged upon the doors to be let free, and that strength that she has did nothing for her. Just when the turret closed in on her, she closes her eyes, waiting for the moment of impact, back pressed against the wall, blades outright.. and.. nothing.

Bruce's voice gives her pause, and then a sudden relief washes over her as the others begin to dash into the fray.

Three live turrets were in play, the other men laughing and giggling at Melody's running, the others pressing random buttons here and there to begin their diagnostics, recording their reaction times to report straight to Deathstroke. Melody immediately gets a failing grade of course, but the other two?

That remains to be seen.

The first few strikes from Alexander were clean, light whap/thaps upon the sides of the spinning mannequins, probing… probably checking that there are no sneaky Deathstrokey tricks connected to them. But nope, no electrocution, no emission of gas, no explosion on impact The swirling objects of death seem to be exactly what they look like, training dummies with sharp bitz.
Once he's reasonably certain, Alexander's blade comes up, twists as several blade strokes are made by the automaton. The metal rings, then shrieks as he turns with the movement, the celestial blade's preternatural sharpness slicing through the weapons lashing at him, laopping them off the swirling dervish akd sending shards flying into the wall… away from Rant luckily. A step, a turn and he slices through the base of the turret cleanly, letting it topple behind him as he moves.
He's already turning, darting back towards the one that was headed for Rant. That robot is switching targets as it turns… only to be split asunder with one clean stroke.

Lunair is better than when she started out, but she's still no ninjamaster 9000. Still, she's careful of any potential sneakiness, too. She really wouldn't put a pop up Taskmaster in the box past them, either. She has to sidestep and lash out with that chainwhip again. Strike here, the curl of a chain against a weapon, and pulling her weapon back. It's the ebb and flow of combat, before she pulls her chain back and takes another shot. She's improving, sidestep, turn and the chain lashes out, curling around one of the machine's 'necks'.

A sharp jerk back and there's a loud crunch as the thing gets decapitated. It took her a little more time than Alex (freaking Greek gods), but she manages it. "Geez." Everybody Wing Chun tonight indeed. She looks around for more for just a moment, paranoia and instinct. Never assume a fight is over just because things went quiet a moment.
Bruce Banner doesn't pay much attention to the other two and their actions against the automata, except to make sure that none of the safety alarms are set off. He keeps focused on Melody, glad to see that she's clear of the action as the other two handle the turrets with relative skill. Impressive, in its own way, if Bruce were prone to being impressed by things like that.

He takes another hit of his ganja when he sees some of the men laughing at Melody. Bruce doesn't have much taste for bullies and the knowledge that he could make those men eat their own spleens for their bad attitudes was satisfying in a way, if it didn't mean he'd also end up wrecking the entire facility in tihe process. Take a deep breath, Banner.

'You see this shit?'
'Yeah man, so dude came up with some super powereds to join this dumb ass team.'
'Well, I say we hit the button.'
'What button?'
'That button.'
Naw, we can't hit the button, Slade'll kill us.'
'No he won't, he ain't smart enough to run this stuff!'

But Lunair was right, really. The fight was never, truly over. But Melody assumes it is!

She finally pries herself from the wall, drawing her way slowly towards the broken turrets, stepping over a bit of debris as she tries to keep herself steady. "I.. I'm sorry guys. I panicked.." She states with a murmur..

'Fuck it, I'm pressing the button.'
'DON'T PUSH THE MUTHERFUCK—-'

The room goes dark and soon lights up with a backdrop of red, a fire-hazard like tone and yet, machines begin to work. Turrets abound begin to draw itself up from the floor, one causing Melody's foot to nearly slip within the depths but with a lurch-dive forward she gets out of the way. She even begins to crawl and scramble, bad move with the blades, as one was left behind as she tucks and rolls out of the way of another emerging from the floor.

No time to cry, Melody was on the move, scrambling and dodging as the turrets begin to whir to life.

'Shit man shit! I'm getting the fuck out of here!'

The two controllers rush their way out of the room, leaving Bruce to man the controls. Sadly, he has to figure out how to override them first.

Lunair, to be fair, was a child soldier and has had a fair bit of experience. But she looks to the Rant. "Um. It's okay. Is there anything that might help with that? I can give you armor or you can practice hitting me with a wooden sti—" "That absolute mother fucker pushed the button, didn't he," She puts her hands on her hips. Not just any mother fucker. An absolute mother fucker, which is neither positive or negative. "Hang on, I'll armor you. Can't do much else, whipping things," Lunair remarks. If Melody gives her okay, she'll have a suit of nice, safe power armor. No Lawyers from Iron man, please.

Too risky to pull out the railgun or C4 and go to town. So her electrified chainwhip will have to do. She draws a light saber on her off hand and starts in after one of the machine that gets too close to Rant. While she only uses the light saber for things she can't crush with the chainwhip, it is a rather alarming and final finisher. The turret she goes after soon has a limb crushed and a lightsaber across the chest.

Bruce mostly has to focus on staying calm, choosing to, unfortunately, just block out what's happening to Melody and the others so he can focus on the computers at hand. He might not have Rant's superhuman capacity, but he's a) been programming computers since sometimes in the mid 80s, when he was still a boy, and b) one of the most brilliant scientific minds on the planet. Deathstroke hired some good people to design his system, btu, frankly, all of them combined aren't quite as smart as Bruce Banner.

Although they probablly hate themselves a lot less. Genius has its price.

He dumps himself down into the shell, quickly hacking through the custom OS that Slade had installed and, after a series of keystrokes, works to gain himself root access, "Okay, let's see if I can get a hold of those robots…and, while I'm at it, let's get a steady location on the guys who pushed…that…button…." he mutters to himself.

When the lights go out, Alexander's reaction isn't typical for him. It's an abrupt and simple growl punctuated with, "Shit." He turns away from Melody, perhaps on some level gauging mentally who is more of an asset and unfortunately for Rant… well Lunair is functional.
He turns away, Grass Cutter held out to the side and low as illumination returns and the other robotical turrets with the sharp bits spin up to life. Targets. Targets aplenty. He starts moving. The closest one is aimed for, spinning faster… those blades looking all the more wicked with the added power behind them. He's forced to go on the defensive for a moment, to block, to dive to the side to evade an errant slice.
When he comes back up there's another flash of blade and the katana claims another victory for the Olympian.

The turrets begin to fly in all directions, whirring their blades up and down almost as if they were malfunctioning with as much output they were getting in. Melody really didn't have time to speak, she did crawl forward to stand upright to try to dart towards the exit, only to be blocked by a spinning blade that nearly shreds her shoulders into ribbons. The blade she has is drawn up, blocking a swing of the mechanical knife, but the force of it knocks her back into another turret that shreds into her back. "Lunair!" Melody calls out in a scream, her back arching with a bit of pain as she falls to her knees, attempting to dive forward to dodge another turret as the blade lifts and slams into her shoulder.

It raises her up just in time for another whirring blade to slice a thin line into her neck, and with the way the one that's jammed into her shoulder is moving, it tosses her aside as if she were nothing but a thinly sliced piece of meat.

Ow.

The Absolute Mutherfuckers were in the hallway, heading their way to the mess hall to exit out of some random exit that was built. They're very, very close to leaving.

Audrey has been a rare sight here. Given that stealth is her main skill set, that's not entirely surprising, but it still hasn't given her much of a chance to get to know most of the team. This was not quite what she'd been anticipating. On the other hand, at least she's able to remain calm, pulling a gun from a holster at her thigh. For all the good it's likely to do against things made out of metal.

More useful, perhaps, are the superheated blasts of light she sets off inside the robots, though that takes concentration. One at a time. "Phobos, can you see where they're coming from, neutralize the exit?" she calls over. "Lunair, I'll cover you, see if you can help our wounded," she adds as she works her way closer to Melody.

"Don't you mean neutralize the entrance?" Yeah, that's annoying. But he tends to focus on certain things when his mind is engaged on others. It's not like the machines are masterful bladesmen, they're more like fighting blenders than samurai. Though their many arms sort of makes up for that handicap. Yet after another momentary engagement he slices one off its trunk, sending it falling to the ground where it hisses and sparks in mechanical frustration.
A few quick steps carry him past as he rushes by Lunair, leaving her to tend to the mewling meaty mess that is Melody. His own sword slices out to strike down another of the robots that seems like it might be meancing Lunair next, then he presses on heading in the direction of where some of the machines seem to be emerging from.

Lunair doesn't talk much. She's busy. But at least she's proving fairly adept. A quick learner. She nods at Audrey and Alex. Wait. Nevermind. No time to muse on how the shadowy light lady popped in. "I thought about a gun or something but people were close in," She admits. Plus, it's good practice! For now, she keeps her whip at the ready and it's time for a gratuitous Team Fortress 2 cameo as poor Melody gets the medigun. Blue beam!

That doesn't mean Lunair gets to rest on her laurels. Nope, she's having to hang back, and move out of the way, keeping the beam on Mel. At least she's a good team player.

"I think that's one of those glass half full questions," Audrey replies to Alex, watching the lines in the floor and picking a spot that puts her between as many of them as possible, and Lunair and Melody. "If you're the robots and you're focusing on leaving wherever they keep you, it's an exit. Also, why are you asking if you know exactly what I mean?"

Giving up on the light-splosions - too energy intensive - she throws a veil over Lunair and Melody, a reflective dome that should render them invisible to visual standards, at least. "I'd've gone for EMP, but I don't want to overshoot and take out life support," she adds to Lunair, moving away from the pair to see if the drones follow her.

With Banner manning the helms and succesfully dismantling the turrets one by one, Lunair providing good defense and Phobos and Audrey in the rung, a row of turrets spark and turn on Audrey within an instant. They were fast, their blades whipping to and fro, almost a blur and hard to see, yet slow down again with a pulse that Banner rocks through the console with the press of his fingers against the keyboard.

It almost looks like a scene from the Matrix, the man sliding two and fro, he was in the zone…

..where as Melody was not. She was face down and bloodied, the beam hitting her body was not needed, but it allowed the nanites imbedded to work quickly, shockingly fast. So fast that her skin burns its sparkles in blues and purples, her hands smacking the ground as she slowly lifts her head, pushing herself up, her feet scraping to find a catch upon the ground as her blood sinks and melds into the floor. If one could be acclimated with the ship, she could. But she doesn't. Wasn't her toy, and she wanted to live to see another day.

What a waste of nanites!

"I'm.. I'm fine.." She manages to croak out, voice barely scratching the surface, the blade gripped with a shakey hand until the bubble forms and draws them out of sight. The mechanics can't see them, so they focus upon the Greek and Lux.. each splitting off into their respective directions to take them down.

"Yes, but they're entering here, to us. So that probably means more, right?" Alexander just keeps talking easily enough as if this were a coffee shop and he had just had a mocchiato. He spins amongst the whirling dervish devices, slicing them apart with an almost careless ease, holding a position at their point of ENTRY, occasionally shifting placement to cover for one or the other of the people there.
Glancing back over his shoulder he says easily enough, "I mean it might matter down the line if I say like, 'omigawd look out, jump right!' and if you stop and say, 'Your right or their right!' and then splat."

Lunair is a good pitch hitter, it's true. She likes being rawr, but this situation does not call for rawr. She was tending to Melody, and tilts her head as the gal croaks out. "Okay, I am armoring you. I'll keep an eye on you and help them." And now Rant is power armored unless she super objects. She stays near Rant, mindful and ready to intercept wayward machines. "Thanks for the um, light bubble." Light asses are what her childhood friends called fireflies. It's just weird to think about, really.

Hearing Lunair's thanks, Audrey lets the dome around her and Rant go in favor of another trick. She's not much for melee. She knows firearms like the back of her hand, and she can more than hold her own in hand to hand combat, but melee? Not so much her thing. Confusion to her enemies, on the other hand, is very much her speed. As she ducks and bobs around the drone on her tail, other Audreys seem to pop up in the arena, appearing and disappearing at random, trying to throw the attackers off her scent.

"Uh huh," she replies to Alex. "You got a weak spot on these things yet?"

Just as he turns and drops low, long blade slicing through the base of yet another robot, Alexander looks across the way at Audrey and cocks an eyebrow. He stands up smoothly, retaking a guard stance as several more try to bracket him and encroach on his space, gauging the range of his blade. He tells Audrey over his shoulder, "I don't know. To me they are composed of nothing but weak spots. Much like you mortals."

"I got your fuckin' weak spot.." Bruce mutters, pressing a few series of commands that sends them spinning even faster than before. He effectively overloads it, even the ones that were down pop like popcorn and begins to spin and roll around upon the floor. Melody takes off, not too far away from Lunair, but she was armed, hopping over the fallen ones so they don't clip her feet, ducking one that swings her way as her blade comes up and with an added force, leans in to create a kinetic force that throws her and the Zhuang back a few paces until it all just..

…stops.

Bruce leans back in his chair, the doobie picked up again and smoked, turning around to face away from those below as he enjoys the buzz while he still could..

And Melody stands there, a slight frown upon her face, her hand lifting in a high raise as she addresses the three in front of her.

"Totally just realized I could have done that."

Someone is about to get an attitude change in three..
..two..
one..

The doors of the room split open just then and a ginger headed man in a slightly rumpled ice cream white suit and a crooked bow tie unceremoniously stumbles inside, followed by a blubbering fat man with a hair line that's receded to the back of his neck and long stringy hair growing over his ears like a halo. His flop sweat is so bad he's completely soaked through the slightly to short t-shirt he's wearing, the addition of cargo shorts and flip flops doesn't exactly lend him an air of excellent character. Deathstroke stands there, uncharacteristically, he's wearing his mask, the split deathshead construck offering no expression. He's not armored though, just some black military style clothing, a big honking knife and a side arm on his thigh. In short… his normal get up, just with his mask today. He surveys the scene around him as the man in the white suit straightens himself and clear his throat, trying to pull himself together with shaking hands while the fat man sputters with rage and terror thick enough to literally smell in the air. It smells vaugely of urine.

Lunair was - watching - Melody. And then she just - kind of blinks. Lunair rubs the back of her head. "You guys are okay?" She asks, looking around. There's relief as the robots seem to have… stopped. She turns to loo over and there's a Deathstroke in a mask but normal clothes. Huh. "Um. Hello, sir. Sorry about the mess." At least she didn't cheat and use a railgun this time?

Alexander turns to look upon those entering the room. He cocks an eyebrow as he looks from one, to the other, to the other. A tilt of his head is given, but for the moment he says nothing. He just stands up straight and casually slides his sword back into its scabbard upon his back. A few paces carry him away from the remains of the various robotic devices that he leaves in pieces as he strolls towards the rest.

"And this is why panic is bad," Audrey murmurs when Melody says she could have shut the robots down. Before she can say anything else, though, Deathstroke is there, along with two terrified people who can only mean some sort of test or trouble. Out of habit, she falls into attention, watching.

The smoke and the dust were cleared, Melody left a mess that she'll probably have to mop up on her own on the ground, the frown upon her face showed her disappointment at Audrey's words as that hand drops to her side as her armor from Lunair slowly fades into non-existence. "Well -ex-SKUUUUUSE me." And then, a roll of the eyes. Who was she anyways and what was she doing here?

But all of that goes out the window once Slade enters, Melody's attitude soon changes to one akin to a kicked puppy who's looking for shelter because they were scared. She slowly edges her way behind those, hoping her smaller stature would keep her out of the line of sight.. and..

"Man.. did one of yall pee?"

Slade Wilson glances at Audrey, "Fear is good." he says, and for a moment it sounds like he's contradicting her, "Panic is fatal. It's one of the reasons I tapped him," he nods at Phobos, "to help our newer initiates into the life," his gaze falls on Rant, "with the transition. We may not have time for them to build the character needed before going into the field." one can almost hear the sneer on his lips when he turns his eye back to Phobos, "Which makes their panic your responcibility." which is his very nice way of saying he's found his fall guy for todays debacle. Phobos. Argueably the one who held up the best in the assault. "Try to fail less spectacularly in the future."

He turns then to the two men on the floor, "These are the architects of the Proving Grounds, mens who's minds were, I believed, uniquely qualified to creating a testing area for Authority recruits. Arcade," he motions to the suited man, "designed the maze. Toyman," he motions to the fat blubbering sweaty man, "created the automatons, or rather adapted exsisting technologies found here. He is argueably one of the greatest robotics experts in the world, rivaling and perhaps surpassing the likes of Tony Stark." Deathstroke then adds, "He is also a convicted pedofile and murderer." his hand snaps out then and he hammers a blow across Toyman's blubbering jaw so hard everyone in the room can hear the bone break. Arcade pales considerably, which is a feat given his freckled complextion. Toyman whimpers on the ground, clutching his now slightly deformed face, "Get up you mewling infant." Slade says in a voice devoid of sympathy.

"Aww shucks, and here I thought it was because you hired a pair of tits in the control room." Alexander doesn't seem too terribly put out, but he does seem back to his old more neutral manner, arms folding over his chest and his stance shifting casually to the side. He looks towards Rant for a moment, considering the woman, but then looks back towards Slade and awaits what is to follow.

Obviously there is a lesson forthcoming here. Which is why Audrey remains silent, watching Slade and the pair of men he's brought in. Why bring them here? What point is he trying to make?

-SOMEONE- in this room peed! Though, Melody wasn't about to find out who in this moment. One the speech starts, she leans her head a little to the side to watch, glancing towards Phobos with an outward pout of her lip and then towards the unknown woman. They all, seemed well put together to her. They had their shit together, and with a look down at her bare hands, she shakes them free and continues to listen.

The smack to the Toyman's face causes her to wince, backing away just a touch, wanting to avert her gaze but the slight fear and large respect kept her eyes forward and attentive.

Deathstroke continues, his voice never raises in all of this, he's very matter of fact, calm, almost quiet, it's disconcerting in it's own way that screaming wouldn't have been. "You asked me if there was a code by which we acted on missions, I have yet to complete it but a few things on it will be nonegotiable. Let's begin with me." he pauses to stress the next bit, "I keep my promises." he says, the words have a finality to them as if they were part of the make up of the universe, like gravity. He turns to Schott, "Murder," he waves his hand dismissivly, "who hasn't killed a few people, even a few they they shouldn't have? I can forgive murder, there are reasons for things like that and I'm not one to judge."

Toyman pushes himself up onto his knees and scoots away from Slade, anger in his eyes and a pink tinted spittle dribbles from the side of his mouth, deformed by his broken jaw and the swelling that is quickly puffing it up from fat to 'inflatable' status. "I told you what would happen if you went back to your old ways Schott." Deathstroke continues then, "No kids. It was the line I drew in the sand, do you remember? I pulled you from a prison transport on your way to Supermax in the middle of nowhere. I took you so far off the grid you literally couldn't be further from a child, to give you time. You gave me your word Schott." he steps towards the retreating man, "You tried to find a communication method that would allow you to lay eyes on a child. You thought I wouldn't find out? I wouldn't know?" he motions idly up towards the control room, "You're not the only super genius I brought here, you're not even the smartest." his voice drops dangerously, "You broke your promise Winslow. You broke your promise and then you tried to kill my team to buy yourself time to escape. Because you thought you could run. From me. Me!" now his voice raises slightly on that final word. "Unlike you Winslow," he reaches to his thigh and pulls out 9 inches of serrated wicked looking steel blade and flips it in his hand into a reverse grip, "I keep my promises." and with an almost nonchalant move drives the knife downward.

Toyman raises his hand defensively and the knife passes clean through it with a splorch sound followed by a crunch as it enters the top of his skull and it's tip pokes out somewhere in his double chin. He looks ridiculous, his hand pinned up to the top of his head like a grisly new hat, fingers inverted, clawing up towards the ceiling.

The young Olympian looks at the now impaled Toyman and lifts his eyebrows with a measure of curiousity. He casually slides a bit of robotics out of the way with the toe of his boot, clearing a path for himself and the others to head closer towards Slade and his victim(s?). Alexander slides his hands into the pockets of his fatigues and turns his attention over on the ginger now, smiling casually as if trying to tell the fellow that everything would be all right.

Audrey doesn't jump. Not when the man gets hit. Not when the knife comes out. Not when it gets driven into the man on the floor. She watches each and every part of it. The observant might note, though, that she seems to be paying more attention to what Deathstroke says and how he says it. The motives of these men make little difference to her. But Deathstroke? Those are motives she cares very much about.

Melody's mind was working a mile a minute. Questioning almost everything. She signed up into a group that had a known pedofile imbedded? What the heck? Her eyes widen as the blade was flipped and plunged into the man, her hand lifting to press her fingers against her lips to stop the slight scream that may or may not have come out. She doesn't feel remorse for the Toy-guy. No. He deserved every bit of what he got.

But what scared her the most was of how accepting she was of the judgement that was passed.

She turns away for a moment, her hand soon flipping as she presses her knuckles against her lips, her body involuntarily shaking as she closes her eyes to calm herself. One good turn deserves another.. and this was the bastard that caused her throat to get slit. Internal struggle 101. Do not listen to that voice that pretends to be reason.

Deathstroke twists the knife once, more crunchy skull noises, and then he releases it, the corpse falling to the ground with blood shot eyes forever opened wide and blood pooling beneath the terror twisted face. Slade turns slowly to eye Arcade, who take an involentary step back and swallows audibly. His eyes are no less wide then Schott's, his fear no less palpable, but he possesses enough pride to not piss himself. Slade advances on the other assassin slowly and reaches behind himself, to the base of his spine. Arcade visibly wobbles. Deathstroke olds out a USB drive to the man, simple, metal, rectangular, utterly unassuming. "Account details are on the drive, your fee, quadrupled as we agreed, extended stay and hazard pay bonus included, as well as monetary appology from me to you personally, for having to share your working space with walking talking garbage." he tosses it to Arcade, who manages to catch the drive, only bobbling it twice. "All told? Twenty-five million and change. It's been placed in excrow, high yeild, might be more by the time you get to it, you've been working here for a few months now after all." Arcade merely bobs his head in agreement, "O-" his voice cracks and he clears his throat, "Of course Wilson." he bows once as he continues to fight to get himself undercontrol and seems to do a masterful job of it in short order. "It's been… profitable working with you." Deathstroke nods, "You'd be well to learn the lesson here." he says before waving a dismissive hand. A golden gate appears over Arcade and swallows him whole before the man can respond. Object lessons are great for instilling the proper motivation. Arcade made promises of secrecy, the chances are significantly higher that he'll keep them now.

Deathstroke then turns to the rest of the group, his hands clasped lightly behind his back, "Any questions about today's proceedings?" he asks the group like he might ask a class of school children about a chalk board math problem.

Alexander perhaps catches Arcade's eye and if the man's looking he might even wink back at the ginger assassin and creator of MurderWorld. But there's only so much attention to be spared for such people, and so with an easy shift of posture, Alex turns to look back at Deathstroke. He gestures with a hand absently to the side, "Actually, yes. Not necessarily about today's events, but it was rattling around in my head."
The young deity steps past some more of the wreckage and if either of the two young ladies require a little help getting by well he assuredly will offer a hand. "Once we're off and running, and for this to be our headquarters, do you have suitable teleportation technology for us to assemble quickly and relocate, or are we going to need to be more on station?"

"No sir," Audrey replies, shaking her head slightly. Snitches get stitches probably isn't an appropriate response here.

Did Melody learn anything Yeah. She learned a lot. Did she have questions? A ton. But she still couldn't get over how she felt, how.. right and justly deserved his death was and that made her think. And it shocked her. It actually made her feel like she could do this sort of..

The hand goes up, the other still covering her mouth.. Bruce in the console turning just in time to turn away because he knows what was to come next. In fact, they all should.

"URP!"

Someone.. someone ate corn today. For there was just a little spillage before her face burns a deep burgundy, a slight vein bulging from her head as she.. hard resets.

As in, she keeled over and passed out. Surely, she's seen death before. She's even seen one of the Darkness' minion eat someone. And the reaction was exactly the same. She'll be fine in the morning. Just gotta build that constitution.

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