Clone Unleashed?

November 14, 2015:

News Alerts to a fake Deathstroke killing people in New York; while Hulk's rampage hits the news at the same time. The Authority members move out to deal with the latest threat. (PT 1)

Somewhere Hidden


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

The door to Joseph's cell is closed tight and the soft faint hum of the Faraday cage that contains him can really only be heard by Slade himself. It would be slightly comforting if it that wasn't the moment the alerts sounded. He turns and begins striding quickly for the War Room, where he left the alerts to ping if news reports should cross the key words he placed on the watch list. He gathers Lunair in his wake, who's been hiding only a hundred feet or so away from the cell door since they fetched the 'boy' only minutes ago. The mask hides his features but anyone in a thirty foot radius can almost feel the tension in him. He strides into the room and stops halfway down the amphitheater stairs, staring.

On the floating screens flickering to life there are images of Deathstroke himself on a rampage, cutting an impressive swath of crimson and gore through a small crowd of people in New York. The reporting is 'Live!' according to the station identifier in the bottom corner and Lunair's just close enough to hear a small growl slip past Deathstroke's mask. "Of course." he snarls. As if this day wasn't weird/bad enough.

Lunair was admittedly, tempted to pull her beloved box over herself and hide away. But when Deathstroke gathers you, welp. Lunair is socially intept but even she feels the tension. Still, she's doing her best to gather her strength and be a proper tagalong.

This whole thing is changing her perceptions. So many offspring. So much- well. Then, the news hits like an angry clown with a hammer. "Holy shit." Oh crap. Her eyebrows find new homes on her forehead. She puts a hand over her mouth. Lunair blinks, hearing the growl. Her eyebrow arches. Even more. If that were possible.

The sound of the alarm didn't spring Rant into action; she was already in the war room, not doing much of nothing but hiding in the corner of the room with a book upon her lap, crouched down into a chair in which she tries to keep her balance for no reason or another than just because she could. The alarms draw her gaze upright, casting towards the door as Lunair and Deathstroke makes themselves known, and then to the projection screen of Deathstroke cutting a rug in a city.

"Huh. You're in two places at once." Duh, Rant!

One foot presses to the ground as she approaches the holographic screen, her eyes lighting up brightly as the skin upon her cheeks glow, one foot taken a step backwards as her eyes widen and focus. It wasn't just one report, Rant picked up a quick stream of cellular footage on YouTube which was soon projected right next to the screen of the fight through the makeshift lenses of her eyes. That was a cool app she made. Buy it in 2020 for the blind!

"This is not good." She murmurs quietly, "Interrupt the telecast and destroy the footage that's in the cloud?"

Audrey has been more absent than not lately, helping X-Red deal with the Reavers and the Purifiers. Which means when she sees the display, she pauses long enough to look between it and Deathstroke before she arches a brow. And says nothing. This is definitely the time when saying nothing is the smart thing to do. Instead, she starts moving toward the gear.

Deathstroke stares at the screens, not answering Rant right away, "No. Leave it up." he says after a moments consideration, "I can use this to make a statement…" if he reacts quickly enough.

He turns to look at the room at large, "We have a prisoner in the detention wing, he goes by Jericho, full name Joseph William Wilson, my youngest son. If you have to deal with him at all, food, water, emergency, what have you, wear a mask complete with eye coverings, lenses of some kind, tinted preferably. This ruling is without exception. Unless ordered to, do not engage him." he turns back to the news footage, "He's more dangerous then any of you understand." and he /really/ doesn't want to think what would happen if Joey was released into the wild with the powers of his team members at his disposal. "Rant, Jericho was working on some nanotechnology while wearing a genius tech developer. We have some of his research but nothing actionable yet. I want you cracking his tech down, see how advanced it is in comparison to your own, if it's a viable threat, and how best to disable it should we run across it in the field." he watches as his doppelganger swings an almost absent minded backhand with a massive sword and cuts a policewoman clean in half, her top part flying through the air in a shower of blood and unraveling intestine spewing out while her legs wobble then topple over.

Slade reaches up to curl his fingers in the cloth mask he wears and he pulls it away with an angry yank. His features are grim to say the least. "Lux, you're with me, I need you out of sight but on hand just in case. Armory," one may note he's only using code names, either he's /all/ business or he's not big on breaking security while 'Jericho' is in the house, "also with us but set up with good line of sight and something you think would be powerful enough to stop me." he turns on a heel, "I need to suit up." he's regretting not having worn his armor to pick up his son.

Lunair is quiet. She nods. Lunair probably is aware of the whole dealing with Joey, and why. She doesn't comment. She looks happy to see the others, and will take a deep breath. "Okay, you got it." Lunair is going to have to think that over. Stopping a Deathstroke is no small feat. But she's got a few ideas. It may involve some creative engineering, though. She will suit up in her own power armor, even augmenting herself a bit. This design seems different- slightly more exoskeleton. She's going to need all the stopping power she can get.

Lunair is going to prepare herself.

It was hard to run the app that was in her head for the moment, not blinking is something that robots could do, and while Melody was getting damned close to being one through no fault of her own, it was all just.. hard. Her eyes snap shut as her hand lifts to rub at her closed lids, her head nodding faintly, "I really don't think we should leave this out there.." But, if he wanted it out there, then it would be.

The book snapped shut finally and tossed upon the table, she watches the others, her brows lowering just a touch as she gives a slight shrug of her shoulders. Her powers were really .. nothing major. To her anyways, but she wasn't going to go against an order. "Yes Sir. I assume Peabody has all of the information on hand?" And.. she was glad of not being asked to go, she probably would die out there. No, probably would be a definitely.

"Do you guys need me on the comms? Something.. if not.. that's cool too.." She was mumbling, left probably in the war room by herself by then.

"Yes, sir," Lux answers simply, already in the process of suiting up herself. Buckles, straps, snaps, weapons clipped into place along with spare ammunition. Deathstroke has a son. That…may explain something about his reaction to all the apparent clones. And is full of potentially interesting information. Then again, maybe crazy runs in the family.

"Can he see invisible?" she asks. "Not that the rest isn't a good secondary measure. But additional security in case of emergency."

Deathstroke talks as he walks for the exit, presumably to head for his armor, "Peabody does indeed have anything you might need, including the brains to help you with the project, I suggest you make use of them." since he was a full 1/2 of the Authority's R&D department anyway. "When we're in the field you should /always/ be on coms." because duh.

Another ping sounds and Slade stops as a reporters words ring out in the room and a new screen pops up in the air, "-ted that the Hulk has attacked a peace rally in Hoboken. Reports are somewhat sketchy at this juncture but at least two are reported dead and damages are estimated to be in the hundreds of thousands and climbing." the image cuts to a shaken man currently wrapped in an emergency blanket and holding a cup of something steaming in a pair of shaking hands. His eyes are to wide and he seems a bit in shock.

Slade stops walking right at the doorway and turns to eye the new screen, "Are you fucking kidding me?" he asks no one at all. "Goddammit Banner, you couldn't pull this shit next Tuesday?" when presumably Slade might have a little less going on. Presumably.

As if despite his staring at the new news footage and soaking that all in, some portion of his brain were still operating on the here and now he answers Lux, "No. But that may not be a detriment to his abilities, so only rely on that if there are no other options." he continues to stare at the news, which luckily has no image of the Hulk smashing stuff, just a lot of news reports about him doing it. So theres that. Which is… good?

Lunair looks to Rant. She is quietly concerned. She will let her tech join coms with the others. Lunair seems hip to being in communication. Nothing says awkward like friendly fire. Or a friendly stabbing from DS. That would end ohsobadly.

Nevertheless, Lunair is in her power armor. "… wait, no one's actually seen him?" Lunair catches the other shoe as it drops.

Rant touches a finger to her head, then blows the trigger. Of course she was going to bug Peabody! She was out of sorts lately, rightfully so. It's not often you save Mark Dacascos, get chased by a demon Zee, have your not so dead boyfriend appear and well, start a charity for the mutants. So much to do, so little time. She was following with the rest, assuming she'd be going on the mission but staying -far- away from the action, so there was no suiting up for her. Comms were pulled from her pocket and put on, as well as her belt with munitions attached.

And then there was news of the Hulk, which causes Melody to stop and glance up towards the ceiling, riding the quick wifi wave to see if anything has been put upon the cloud. So far so good. "He did say that he was going to check out a rally he was interested in.." And.. that was that really.

"Anyone notice that oddly enough, bad things do happen on Tuesday?" If anything, she was ready to go, guess her job was to be back-up when Bruce Banner wasn't in play.

"Tuesday's default day. Bad things seem to be happening by default lately," Lux muses, doing a final check on all of her equipment when the next news report comes up. Quietly, she works a braid into her hair, tucking it under her collar once she's done and looking back to Deathstroke with a ready when you are expression.

Deathstroke stares up at the counter running news feeds, "Rant, how tight are you with the Hulk? If he sees you when he's green does he turn you into paste or is he more like twelve hundred pounds of cuddle?" he asks curiously.

Lunair nods. "It really does. Aside from Drone Thursdays," She muses. Lunair really hates drones. Nevertheless, she is armored up and has a book in hand. It's on chemistry. Odd, that.

Rant stops at that, and she has to think. The last few times she's actually seen the Hulk.. he's done nothing. She didn't even get her head pinched. "Surprisingly enough, he's twelve hundred pounds of cuddle and confusion. Pretty tame and docile. But doesn't like being bossed around too much." Her brows furrow slightly. "I'm going to have to go get him, aren't I.."


Audrey is so not volunteering to make nice with Banner. She's not actually sure she gets along with Banner, let alone his alter ego. She'll take the Deathstroke wannabe with the sword, thanks.

Deathstroke stares up at the screens, "Well you didn't join the Authority for our fucking tea parties. Stay here until you can track him down, then yes, go fetch our scientist and his steroid induced alter ego. I suggest you bring him cookies. Then bring him back here once his heart has shrunken ten sizes that day and he can comfortably fit back into skinny jeans and set him up with whatever he wants. Again, I suggest cookies. With melty bits in them." because who doesn't like cookies with melty stuff in them? Seriously. "Track first though, no reason to send you until we know /where/ to send you. Work with Peabody on that too, he's good at finding things that don't want to be found."

With that he turns on his heel and walks out again, hoping he can make it to the door without more pings. Yay! He does.

The screens behind him continue to show witness reports of the Hulk attack and images of smoke and dust wafting around the remains of what was once a building without giant holes in it's structure. The rest show Deathstroke, killing all the people. Seriously. Hulk Smashed! and 2 people died. Fake Slade has a body count over two dozen and it's only been 2 minutes… it'd be higher but everyone's running away and screaming, you know, how you do when a crazed murderer shows up.

Lunair is actually a good cook. She just doesn't do it much here. Lunair tries not to giggle at the idea of Deathstroke having a tea party. The mental image is worth it. "I can point out some good bakeries or help make them," She offers to Rain. Lunair has a sweet tooth a mile long. It's one of the harder habits for her to give up. She probably covertly bakes at some point.

Lunair blinks, frowning. She is sympathetic towards Deathstroke, although Lunair is looking to the footage and seeing which perch would work best. And hoping that Mimic!Deathstroke doesn't have nth whatever on his butt.

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