The Bratva and the Beautiful

January 02, 2015:

The princess comes to Oliver Queen's rescue after his plan backfires.

57-14 59th Street, Flushing, New York

An Alchamex warehouse in Queens


NPCs: None.


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

It's late night. The type of lateness that no sane person would be caught out in. Along with the darkness that envelopes the city is the snow. Yes, it's definitely winter, but for some reason the majority of the snow has yet to hit New York City. Until tonight that is. It started off as simply flurries, but now, it's snowing pretty heavily.

Sadly, the weather does not stop the ne'er-do-wells or the Undercity of New York. Especially when it comes down to the more rundown warehouses, that while housing legit businesses, are also used for some not so legit purposes. Like gun smuggling for instance. The group of would-be gun smugglers are working half in and half out of the warehouse. Crates of guns (and not handguns) are being hauled out to a large idling truck. Probably getting ready to be sent to some buyer. Gang, druglord, something.

And while no one generally looks up, tonight might have been a good night to. For even those that are on the rooftops watching, there's someone even higher going over past the area. That one person being Rogue. Sure, she's not looking for trouble per se, but she's out flying in this weather for a reason. And while her general direction is heading for Mutant Town, she does occasionally glance downward towards the ground. The headlights of the truck catches her attention, but it's not enough (just yet) to bring her downward towards the ground.

Ordinarily, Oliver Queen would have a big problem with crates of guns being hauled out to a large idling truck. He has a problem with them on principal. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, a gun is going to hurt someone who had no business getting shot. The other time, it's bad people hurting bad people. Oliver can live with that one, and fortunately, this is the case. These guns were stolen, naturally, but they've been earmarked by the Bratva for shipment to Russia. American guns are better, plain and simple. But that wouldn't be immediately obvious. Someone would be well within their rights to assume that these guns were going to hit the streets and act accordingly.

Down below, Oliver is dressed better than the guys who are loading the truck. He's wearing a warm black jacket, very stylish looking too, and blue jeans underneath. He seems to be talking with one of the leaders in Russian, which translates something like… "Sergei, I need you to find that out where he might be hiding. Use all the resources you have available. He's hurt both of us, and put a lot of people in danger."

But Sergei has had this song and dance one too many times. Speaking in a thick Russian accented version of English, he says, "Oh, he has, and I will, but not for you. I'm afraid that I don't care who vouched for you. I think it is time for our business to conclude, da?" And as he speaks, several of his men aim their weapons at the very vulnerable Oliver Queen. How did he get himself into this mess? Oh yeah, he was playing the hero.

It's the idling truck that further intrigues Rogue. It's been sitting there long enough that the would-be hero starts to bleed off altitude to get a closer look. She's coming in silently, which isn't often like her, but with this snowy weather, she wants to be sure of what she's really seeing before committing to action.

And when it's clear that what she's seeing is truly a gun deal going down, the brown and white haired woman frowns.

Her gloved hands fist and just as Rogue was about to swoop down and wallop them all, the tables suddenly turn. At least, for Oliver Queen. Or in Rogue's mind the 'buyer'. No, she hasn't looked at him long enough to realize just who he is, beyond the pretty face. "Ha." She mutters to herself. "Yer going t'get what you deserve." And slowly, the mutant woman begins to rise upward in the air. Yes, she was going to leave him there, she /was/, but her recent time with the X-types have started to change her overall outlook on life. Sighing to herself, the woman turns back to the people below. "Yer going t'owe me one, buddy." With those words said, Rogue finally commits to action. She's going to arrive in style, or at least, quite showey. With as much speed as she can pull off in such a short distance, the woman all but seemingly 'drops' out of the sky. She's aiming to appear just outside of their little circle and perhaps ironically enough, this night Rogue is wearing a long green trench coat, with hood pulled up. "Hey Fellas." Comes her distinctly southern drawl, "Why don't you all put down the guns and a girl like me won't have t'hurt you all."

The henchmen have some pretty advanced weapons in their hands and they seem to know how to use it. Little aimed dots appear on Oliver from all around. They're just waiting for their boss to give the order, but the order does not come. "That is," he continues in his thick Russian accent, "unless you transfer five hundred million dollars to this account," and he reaches into his pocket to reveal a pad, "we know that you're worth considerably more than that, but we are not greedy." Oh, yeah, half a billion dollars and he has the gall to insist that he's not greedy.

Oliver knew this day would eventually come, he just didn't expect it to happen quite so soon. These Bratva types were all alike. But then, a woman in green descends from the sky, and the men all turn around, their guns moving with them to focus on her. Several of them swear in Russian, some in English, and at least one in Finnish. Fortunately, these guys seem to be fairly well trained, and so they don't immediately fire upon her, though one of the Russians does seem to sweat more than the other, clutching that trigger a little too nervously for Oliver's tastes.

Smiling at the arrival of the green hooded woman with the southern accent, he addresses Sergei, "Do you still think that was a good idea?" Subtly, he reaches into his pockets, pretending that he's doing that because it's cold, but he grabs hold of some flechettes, which he stands ready to hurl at the gangsters.

Still unaware of just who the thugs are holding, Rogue says, "Ain't it sad that none of you have any sort of allegiance, not even with each other!" She scoffs, even as she shakes her head, which might be seen as the hood moves slightly back and forth. "You all are terrible."

With those words said, Rogue bursts into action, just about the same time to Ollie throws the fletchettes. It's almost like they timed it, though they truly didn't. For Rogue, her first target is the nervous looking man. With superhuman speed, she moves from her current spot to just beside him, "Hi Sugar. Ah think you need t'find another line of work."

His guns is quickly snatched out of his hands, with a smile she'll crush it into a metallic ball. When she moves to the next would-be thug, her hood is thrown back from the wind, clearly showing that it is definitely a woman that's attacking the burly Russians. "Howdy." She says to the second one, obviously playing up her Southern Twang, "Nice t'meetcha here." And instead of going for this man's gun, she instead delivers a bone crunching punch to his face, which sends him flying. Even with her attacks, she's trying to keep an eye on the others around her, but she isn't all seeing. Currently one of the beefier gun-toting thugs is taking aim at her exposed back. Totally unaware how ineffective his attack is really going to be.

The attack began with seemingly coordinated movements from Oliver and Rogue. Sergei sees this and assumes that they are working together, as Rogue fells the nervous one, while Oliver's fletchettes take out the Finnish guy and one of the other Russians. Swearing in Russian, Sergei yells, "fire!" but after seeing Rogue fly, move at superspeed, and crush one of their guns, most of the guys lose their nerve. With her powers, they might as well be fighting Superman. They'd have about the same odds of success, which are zero.

Even Sergei begins to run, knowing that this failure will cost him with his superiors. It may even cost him his life. But he is still a valuable resource. He's trained, he's knowledgeable. The guns were already lost, so he'll argue that by escaping with his life and his men, he mitigated the loss to the Bratva. It probably won't work, but that's his plan as he mumbles to himself while fleeing.

With the men in retreat, Oliver Queen finally gets the chance to thank his saviour, "that was incredible." He crosses the snow, his shoes making a nice indent in the white, and he offers his hand to her. He knows that he's been seen and he's famous enough that it would be stupid of him to just run. She should know who he is, so why not cut it off before it becomes dangerous. Who is she, who does she work for, and why did she save his life? "How can I thank you?"

"Suckers." Comes Rogue's taunt when they turn tail and run, "Ah was just getting started too." Which was the truth, she only took out two of them when she could have taken them /all/ out. "Dangit, now muh hair is wet too." Which means it'll only become even curlier once it's dry. What a girl wouldn't do for straight hair, so much easier to deal with.

At the sound of Oliver's approach, the brown and white-haired woman turns, one fist raised in a threatening gesture. He was after all the gun 'buyer'. It's only when she /finally/ gets a clear look (albeit through the falling snow) at his face, that she'll blink in surprise. "Hey, ain't you .." She pauses a second, obviously searching for his name, " .. Oliver, right? Oliver Queen." And then when she /really/ understands who she just saved, she says quite vehemently, "What in the sam hell are you doing out here? And buying guns too!"

"Yeah," he admits a little hesitantly. She saw him use those flachettes. He searches for an explanation, and there really isn't a good one. What reason could a billionaire playboy have for hanging out with the Russian mob, late at night, and hurling flachettes out of his coat? Oh, and they thought they could blackmail him for five hundred mil. "It's a long story, but I have some past dealings with the Bratva. I was hoping to get some information from them for… a friend. But I guess that's not going to happen tonight."

Noticing her hair isn't doing too well with the snow. Even so, she's stunning, and that's such a charming accent. He smiles at her, "I'm going to have to thank you somehow. It's not every day I get to be saved by a superhero. And oh look, that snow's not helping with the hair. Can I give you a life someplace, and at least get you out of the snow?" Okay, not his best work, but he's trying.

A slightly calculating look comes over Rogue's features, as she stands there eyeing Oliver. She'll even go so far as to place her gloved hands upon her hips. "Huh." Is all she'll say for a second or two, perhaps allowing Ollie to stew for a few minutes, over the throwing weapons being seen, but, thankfully, she'll finally add, "A friend, right. Ah think Ah've heard that one before." A half-grin quirks one corner of her mouth upward, "But Ah'm assuming you're trying t'do good, so what can Ah say? And besides, we all got secrets, don't we sugar?"

As for her hair, yes, it's looking more and more limp and it's enough that Rogue will push it behind her ears and out of her face. "A ride?" She says curiously, even as she looks upward towards the sky. She could continue on her own power that's for certain, but - "Ah don't suppose this ride would be in a car, would it? Ah wouldn't mind getting out of the snow for a little bit."

And just so he knows what to call her, she says, "And the name is Rogue. Just in case anyone asks who saved you today, you'll know what to call me."

She gives him a calculating look, and he gives her a hopeful one. He has no idea who she is. She saw what looked like a crime scene and intervened, so she's probably a hero, but he prefers to keep his identity on a need to know business. When she takes his story at face value, he's relieved, even if they're both certain that it's bull-something. Regarding her, he replies, "we do indeed."

As to the car, he nods his head, "yeah, I've got it parked around back." Extending an elbow to her, wondering if she'll accept the gentlemanly offer, he'll walk with her towards his vehicle, which has a driver, an African American gentleman who gives Rogue a curious look but doesn't say anything about her. He'll even open the door for Oliver and Rogue, though somehow, he looks like the job might be beneath him.

Once in the car, he'll ask, "so, where would you like to go?"

Perhaps if Rogue was more familiar with Oliver she'd take his arm, but for now she'll politely decline. "Thank you for the offer. Yer Mama definitely raised a gentleman." This is a definite compliment from this southern woman, as manners are all very important to the south.

When Rogue spies the car that's 'just around back', she can't help but turn an even more amused look upon Oliver. "Honey, you just can't tell me you brought yer own car and yer driver. That is not something Ah can say Ah've ever seen. Not t'a gun deal, at least." And that's saying a lot, since Rogue has seen quite a bit between the two groups she's been with.

The driver is given a genuine smile, even as Rogue says when he opens the door, "Thank you, sug." Then it's inside and she tries valiantly not to drip melting snow too much upon the car seats, or Oliver, for that matter. His question about where to, causes her to pause as she considers what to tell him. After a moment, she says, "As close to Mutant Town as you can get me. Ah can get there on my how the rest of the way." Once settled, she'll make certain there's enough room between the two, that they wouldn't accidentally touch. "So, do you mind if Ah ask just what you were going t'do with those guns? Ah understand yer looking for information for a friend, but if they hadn't of double crossed you, you'd have bought them, right? That's a lot of firepower."

With a shrug of his shoulders, Oliver moves his hands from almost touching in front of his stomach to outwardly extending, separating, and turning palms up, "I have a couple of spares, it's not registered to me, and Dig can handle himself in a crisis." Though around the corner ended up being about three blocks, so it wasn't as bad as it seemed.

While Rogue and Oliver got into the car, his driver raised the privacy bar, so Oliver has to press a button for the intercom, "Take us to Mutant Town if you would, Dig," which elicits a simple, "of course, Mr. Queen" from the driver."

When the conversation turns to the guns, Oliver holds up a hand, "oh, no, I had nothing to do with them. They were stolen, I think, but my… friend, said they were headed to Russia. There's a big market for American guns over there. Still, it's a nice place to visit… it's dangerous, but it certainly has its charm. Much like you, I imagine."

Before Rogue continues on with the conversation on hand, the guns, she does pause to say, "Ah like your driver. He seems the type that ain't - " And here she pauses, as she considers words, what with her being in such polite company. " - going t'take any sass from you."

And then it's back to the conversation at hand, both about the guns and the compliment, but first Oliver's compliment. "Yer a gentleman, handsome and charming too? All the girls must be falling over themselves t'get to you." Yes, Rogue can give compliments just as well as she can take them, it seems. And while a grin still curls her lips upward, the curly-haired woman says, "But you should be careful of how you refer t'yer 'friend'. That little bit of hesitation before you say 'friend' gives a little o'yer thoughts away."

"Not much and Ah'm sure people who don't have secrets can't hear it, but Ah can." Which obviously means she has secrets too.

"That's probably because it was mom who hired him, but he's grown on me over the years," he nods, being a little more frank than he expected, but he does love the guy, he's like a brother to him now. Just one who has to pretend to be his servant. Yeah, that's still not sitting too well with his driver, but it does make Oliver grin.

Which turns to a faint blush as she begins complimenting him, "Oh, uh, yeah, you've read the tabloids. Trust me, only twenty-five percent of it is true," then after a pause, "okay, thirty."

It's interesting that she would talk shop. He must have been distracted. He's usually better at covering his tracks. He's off his game, but hopefully he can rectify it. "Would you believe it if I said that I'm usually a better liar?" Yeah, crack a joke by telling the truth, gets them every time. Or it has so far.

"So, Rogue, what secrets do you hold?" She's not going to just go ahead and tell him, but it can't hurt to try. Actually, after seeing her in action, maybe it would hurt to try, but the damage is already done.

Green eyes narrow slightly, "Only thirty percent? Hm. Ah think it's likely higher, but Ah won't make you blush any more tonight. Scout's honor." She teases. Rogue may not be able to touch people but that doesn't stop her from being outrageously flirty with Ollie. Flirting is safe for Rogue.

His remark about being a better liar normally, earns another amused look from the Southern Belle. "Why does that not surprise me? Ah think Ah know yer type, quite well." And while the words may sound malicious if taken out of context, they're really not. At least for Rogue. She's intending it as another compliment of sorts, or at least, it's said in a very good humor. She's obviously not meaning for it to be taken snidely.

As to shop talk, her grin ratchets back to more of a smile, "Oh, Ah'm fairly certain Ah have as many secrets as you do. Though you already know one of them." She leans ever so slightly towards Ollie, as she stage-whispers, "Ah'm a mutie."

"Okay, okay, okay, thirty-five percent," he smiles as he flirts with her. Damn, she's so full of energy, he could get used to being around a girl like her. And all he really knows about her is her codename. That'll have to change. Who is this Rogue and what's her story? He must find out.

He gives her a wink when she teases him about being a better liar than he lets on, "you should see me when I play poker." Not that he's played cards in forever. He used to, but that was years ago, before the island, when he had time for trivial pursuits like that.

"As many as I do? We'll have to compare notes at some point. Like did you know that I'm a gourmet cook?" Oh god, he is so not a gourmet cook, but he thinks he is. His chilli is famous for being the spiciest consumable known to man. Some people think he just switches chilli for paint thinner, but they'd be wrong. "And a mutant, huh? Well, that's a first. I've never spent time with a mutant, that I know of, but I think I'd like to." And he may get his chance, as the car is almost at Mutant Town.

"Ah did not know you were a cook." Rogue says, that smile of hers quirking back up to an infectious grin. "None o'those trashmags ever said such a thing. Ah'll have t'remember it in case Ah ever need to blackmail you." She says with that grin of hers, "Ah'm sure if they knew you were such a softy, you'd lose some sorta cred with people."

At his mention of spending time with a mutant that causes Rogue to peek out one of the windows to see where exactly they are. When she realizes they're all but there, she'll nod towards the side of the street they're currently on, "Have yer driver stop here. Ah'm not going t'ask him t'go all the way into Mutant Town. It's not always the safetest o'places and besides, Ah think you've met your 'saved' by the Princess quotas today." While her hair has had a chance to dry slightly, it's clear that she expects more bad weather to pop up, as she starts to raise her green hood over her hair again. "And thanks for the ride, Ah appreciate it. Ah could have flown, but it's nice not having sleet and snow pelt you in yer face."

At the mention of blackmail, he rolls his eyes, "look, I just had someone try and blackmail me out of five hundred…" he was going to end that thought, but he doesn't want to sound like a billionaire. In his experience, he just sounds like a show off. "So, I don't need someone else trying to blackmail me as well." He smiles throughout, grinning as he flirts with her.

"And a guy has to protect his cred. Once you lose that, you can never get it back." With the press of a button, the intercom chirps and he gives Dig instructions to stop the car when it's convenient. It will shortly come to a stop near a sidewalk. Rogue can fly, but the driver doesn't know that.

"So there's a quota, huh? When am I eligible for another 'saved by Princess' moment? Is there any way I can jump to the head of the queue?" He'll let that sink in for a moment, before adding, "and I'm glad I could help. Sleet and snow in the face. Not a great look. I bet it makes the makeup run too, right?"

"Ha. You're just too sweet." Says the Southern Belle again, most likely to his question about jumping ahead in the queue. "You keep sayin' all the right things and Ah'm sure you'll be ahead of the class in no time." Once the car rolls to a stop and Rogue can see a clear patch of sidewalk free of any other pedestrians, she opens the door.

Before she exits, however, she does turn to look back at Ollie. "Seriously though, be careful out there." And while she knows his driver can't hear her, per se, she raises her voice, "Make sure to keep him out of trouble." Then she's stepping outside of the car and before she closes the door she'll offer a jaunty little wave to Oliver Queen. "Later, sugar." Then the door is closed and Rogue is pulling her hood down lower to cover more of her face. She'll head right into mutant town and just to be safe, she ambles to and fro for a good forty five minutes to be sure she's not followed, before she finally makes it to her final destination.

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