February 21, 2016:

The pieces finally fit for Deathstroke; the crew of the Authority gets their marching orders.

The Resolve


NPCs: Alexander Peabody

Mentions: Captain America and Aspect


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Peabody slides out from under the bank of terminals inside what everyone has taken to calling 'the bridge', as if it were the Enterprise, and swats at dangling wires as if they were spiderwebs sticking to his face, "Okay, so here's what I've learned." he says as he sits up and props his elbows on his knees, "As a species we are so far behind the terrifying level of technology that whosoever built this takes for granted, that I now spend my life balancing on the knife edge between panic assisted mental breakdowns and investing in the future of adult diapers." he eyes Slade completely deadpan, "Because if they come looking for their ship I'm gonna piss myself." as if his previous comment required explanation.

Slade lets out a slow breath, his version of a sigh, and Peabody just shrugs nonplussed, "Hey man, all the problems I bring you are the kind you can stab to death, you brought me an interdimensional war ship from a species that doesn't even understand the /concept/ of binary coding systems. Shit Slade, these people were interstellar before homo-sapiens had developed a series of grunting noises complex enough to generously be called language."

Slade continues to stare stonefacedly at Peabody and the black man lets out an expressive sigh, "I know I know, get back to work." he flops back down on his back and slides once more under the panel, "If it's any consolation, I think I'm getting close to a break through here. Starting to get a feel for it all."

"And I've got more light to shed on things." Audrey went out for the latest in her string of more public missions, and apparently she's made it back again, and come in search of mission control. "Did you know this isn't the only place with this sort of material?" she asks, knocking lightly against the wall. "Which is the least of the things I learned. And if there are more questions, I've got a key to go back and ask them. Which no," she adds with a look to Deathstroke, "I did not bring back with me, because Trent coded it. It lives at the public safe house I keep on my dime."

Lunair cooks. And Lunair is also doing research. She has several books with her. Some on exotic metals, others various alien incursions and a few more on quantum physics. Strange, that. She looks to Audrey, and headtilts. "Hi there! Really? Awesome." She seems curious. "I'm still chasing down some leads, but I may get to talk to some sources soon. I just want to be up on my lingo." She looks sympathetic to Peabody, and pauses. She shuffles in her messenger bag and pulls a small cupcake box. "I think you need this more than I do."

The exchange in between Peabody and Slade was mildly amusing. No, she wasn't oogling him or the like. She had her books too, though nothing to do with physics.. yet moreso with personality disorders and those that split. There was really nothing interesting to add on her part. She still hasn't met with Reed, but she was sporting a healthy tan from her time in Khandaq. Though, once the cupcake box was produced, there was a little need for her to jump up and snatch it right from Lunair's hands. But she doesn't. No need to get cold clocked here, folks!

Deathstroke turns around when the ladies start streaming into the bridge, a place that is sizeable enough, and built more for function then the other places on the ship. Which is saying something. Most of it makes a certain amount of sense, walls of panels and terminals that one could imagine being some form of control interface device, it's all very star trek if star trek were not made for TV and made more for an interstellar 'reality' of war, including the chairs with their many straps and gel lined seats.

The chief eyedraw on the bridge is the clear sphere that stands in it's center and around which all the other stations seem to be arranged. A big sphere made of a material that's similar to glass visually but can't be quantified yet as being made of an element they're familiar with. Inside of this hangs a sort of harness, at the half compass points there are grips, as if a person were to stand in it and spread their arms and legs wide forming an X and latch on, and just behind that in the center hangs what appears to be a humanoid spine, complete with creepy 'face hugger' like metal ribs. The inside of the spine is lined with needles, an intimidating one set right where a human brainstem would be. It's just to the side of this contraption that Slade now stands while Peabody digs around in the guts of a nearby terminal. Luckily, there is room aplenty for anyone here, the crew base in this room alone would appear to be nearly two dozen.

Slade's attention falls pretty specifically on Lux, "Report." he says simply, trying not to let what she's said get him to worked up but clearly impatient for details. He's growing more and more tired of not knowing things.

"Dead Drop Rho," Audrey begins, "Is made out of the same stuff as this place. Alloyed, but still. And it was hit by attackers within the last five hundred and thirty nine days. The station appears to be run by some sort of AI interface. Although it has an actual interface," she adds, looking around the bridge. "Which had been trying to reach a Khera Prime Information Network for five hundred and thirty nine days."

"The network is apparently an organization meant to combat the daemonite invasions. The network's run by someone under the codename Leonidas, who's supposedly been active in intelligence and business interests since Vietnam. Recruiting and training multiple teams for the purpose of fighting the invasion. Current location unknown. The Northern Canadian cell was massacred eighteen months ago. We retrieved several shell casings from the outpost. But as of that time, there were one hundred and sixty four active cells, and five special projects cells."

She takes a deep breath, organizing her report in her mind. "Methods of combatting the daemonites are limited. Nth metal. Metahuman class or vehicle scale weaponry. They're shapeshifting infiltrators, though. High level anti psychic conditioning is the best way to prevent infiltration."

Lunair will open the box, letting Peabody and Rant dig in before her. But she is listening intently to Lux, curious and alert.

Melody remembers this room. She really didn't like it much, still doesn't, even though everything was contained. But she was quiet, there was a report that needed given and it was given. But that didn't stop Melody from leaning forward to take a cupcake, waiting just a moment as she watches Lux. She wasn't even implanted with cybernetics and her memory recall was fricking amazing. Hers has been turned off ever since the meeting at random intervals and it was lucky she remembered what she had for dinner last.. what -did- she have for dinner last night? Ah well! Cupcakes it is!

Deathstroke gets that far away look that he gets when he goes deep in thought, his eye moving in a shuddering series of motions so fast it looks like nothing so much as a seizure as his thoughts race through alley after alley after alley faster then any computer could match. Five hundred and thirty nine days exactly, or just within that time frame?" he asks, then continues, "Alloyed with this metal, but not actually made /from/ this metal." that sounds /very/ familiar to him, and it's disconcerting. So is the mention of Nth metal. He stops there and slowly turns his gaze towards Lux, something hard and distant in his eyes. Peabody slides out from underneath the terminal in a sudden motion, "Veitnam." he says flatly. "As in… operation Veitnam, or the war?" Slade shoots him a knowing glance and then looks back towards Lux with the same expression.

"Five hundred and thirty nine days since it had last been 'serviced,'" Audrey clarifies. "Eighteen months since people were massacred. So roughly the same timeframe. Whatever happened, it was willing to scan each of us as recruits for replacement. I went dark and followed the others in." No, she didn't let the alien technology take a reading of her.

She glances toward the cupcakes, but it's report time. Cupcakes are for good soldiers who've finished their assignments. At the question about Vietnam, she tilts her head, closing her eyes briefly. She was trained from an early age for intelligence, which means remembering what you've seen and heard to report it. No doubt she has a method. "Middle of the Vietnam War," she answers, opening her eyes again. "His real name was redacted, but it did mention he'd had extensive contact with the daemonites before that time."

And Lunair will protect one for Audrey. But right now? She is an incredible audience. Her distant, blank stare is gone (hey, there ARE downsides to really not being able to show emotion properly - and one of them is people assuming you're stupid/weird) in place of attention.

Alien scans. Melody winces. Lux pretty much was the smart one and went in un.. scanned. But this was interesting. And if Peabody didn't move to get his cupcake, she'd certainly take his. Which she just did, and it's right upon her lap. But slowly, she eats, staring at Lux, watching as she goes through her memory. Occasionally, her glance would shift to Slade to watch how he processes the information and searches his own memory.. One day Mel. Onnne day.

Peabody and Slade share another look and it's a long one before Slade nods. Peabody turns around and sets a tablet atop the terminal and begins working it furiously while Audrey talks. "If there were shell casings then there was a firefight of some kind in that location. Peabody, see if anyone who owes me a favor has control over satelites that were in orbit over Canada around that time, and put the relivent information up on the screen." his mind seems to be jumping from one thing to the next, but Peabody and him are clearly sharing a thought of some kind, "Give me a moment." he says and begins to pace, letting his mind pour over the bits of the puzzle that have been accumulating in his memory for the better part of two decades, peices that no one else alive has seen or could remember as he has.

A wall of blank metal behind him flickers to life like the worlds largest and more UHD to ever HD, screen, and on it are a series of familiar photos. A blacksite buried in Africa, one filled with biotech horrors that now more people then Slade will get to enjoy haunting their dreams. The photos are flipped through as he speaks, "Fifteen years ago I was part of an opperation to scout and if needed clean out a scientific black site, we all know what happened there. The project's asset was code named Tick-Tock," he says, "but the project itself," the photos get older but there's an image of the site's entrance before it was blown all to hell. Twice. "was codenamed Sai Gon by one of the military advisors in command of the project. It was well known he thought of himself as a hero in the Vietnam war," Slade's face grows dark, "he was not," oooo, someone has unfinished business there, "and the scientists never took to the name. So they called it 'The Vietnam Nail Salon' as a way to fuck with him. Eventually," he waves another hand on there's an image, some candid shot, of a random lab coated woman grinning widely and holding up a can of spray paint and a stencil, big blocky military print shows the word 'Vietnam NS' painted over something beneath it, likely the word 'sai gon'. "Project Sai Gon ended up being called Vietnam as a fuck you to the asshat in charge, even reffered to it that way in the paperwork, name was never officially changed but…" but when no one calls you by your actual name and instead uses something else, it becomes part of your identity. "Project Sai Gon, aka Vietnam, was a lab run on Asset Tick Tock which released a nano-techno organic virus of some kind that assimilated biomatter." he turns to look back at the images, "I believe you're all familiar with it." he turns to look at Lux, "I'm starting to see the finished puzzel." he says, and for the first time his expression isn't stoney, it's slightly pale and he looks legitimately worried.

Audrey listens attentively, eyeing the pictures and trying to piece things together herself. Things she said, and things she didn't say, assuming Deathstroke already knows them. And at the worried look, she goes a little bit pale. "Please tell me this techno stuff we've been dealing with isn't something this Leonidas cooked up to combat the daemonites," she says slowly. "Because Nth metal works, and Nth metal is hard to get, and Nth metal is potentially at least somewhat sentient. So someone thought hey, let's make our own sentient metal, and now we have…franken-techno-herpes that's as potentially dangerous to us as the daemonites."

Lunair nods at Audrey. The puzzle is coming together more slowly for her, but it's no less ominous. She frowns. She also is DOUBLY worried when DS is legit worried.

Yeah, those pictures. They were something that a normal person wouldn't want to look at on a daily basis. Yet they've seen it, walked into it, and thankfully walked out alive. She turns her head away at that moment, but hearing Audrey, and looking towards Deathstroke.. it seems as if she had witnessed the impossible. Eesh. The three of them seemed.. no two.. to be freaking out. Okay three. In their own little ways.

She puts her cupcake aside, the uneaten one and stands, striding across that way to go ahead and give it a go. She gives Deathstroke one of the biggest hugs she could muster, because.. he was worried, she's never seen that, Audrey was freaking out and Lunair had a deep frown. Plus, there was no need asking if they were going to stop. She just knew that they weren't going to. Might as well hug now and die later with no regrets.

Deathstroke stares at Lux and Peabody is standing to the side, shaking his head at what his own analysis is telling him, trying not to come to the same conclusions. "When the US Government found itself facing a threat it could not stem alone, it made Steve Rogers." he says simply, "And when a new kind of warfare came along that couldn't be fought by a man wrapped in a flag, it made me."

And then Rant is hugging him.

He blinks and frankly this has him looking more shocked and distressed then the realizations he was coming to on his own. Someone. Is. Hugging. Deathstroke.

He looks around the room for some kind of back up. Peabody is just… grinning like an idiot, all his previous concerns forgotten. Slade reaches up to tenetively patpat the top of Rant's head, his look of shock fading into something softer and more appropriate. Uncomfortable with PDA, clearly, but at least accepting. "Dual alien invasions by species of shape shifting psychic monsters and technologically advanced mega robots all made worth it by this moment." Peabody says softly from behind the pair of them. "God, I'd totally take a picture but…" but Peabody doesn't want to walk home from interdimensional space.

Pat. Pat. Pat.

Then he firmly, but gently, removes Rant from his chest where she's beeing trying to hug a torso nearly as big around as she is tall, "Stay on mission." he says to her, though his words aren't /quite/ as harsh as one might suspect. Less 'drill sarge from hell' more 'gruff slightly scrary grandpa'. He holds her out at arms length and slowly releases her shoulders, as if afraid she'll pounce back on him and he'll have to fend her off. "Where was I?" he asks the room, not taking his suspicious gaze off of Huggy McSuicidal Huggersdottier.

"Really hoping you were about to say that's a crazy idea," Audrey replies quietly, giving up on holding out on the cupcakes. This definitely requires a cupcake. So she goes and gets one, though she's more focused on carefully unwrapping it than eating it just yet.

Lunair tilts her head. "Well, you're pretty awesome," Lunair comments. She genuinely agrees with Rant's actions. She does look amused by Deathstroke's response, hiding her smile. She will slide her own cupcake towards Peabody. Lunair probably has a terrible diet when off the leash. The moment is just too adorable. She effectively joyfully bluescreens.

Must. Not. Let. Go! She clung to him so hard that she could actually 'IMAGINE' him relaxing. That foot was about to come up to wrap around a leg to latch on completely with the intent for him to wear her like a bookbag but he finally pries her off. There. She felt better. People were somewhat better. Lux was ready to eat and Melody was there ready to pounce again should she need be. But, she doesn't, only turning back to settle down by Lunair and Peabody's cupcake, which.. has her getting right back up to give to the hot dark chocolate man. "Here." She shoves it into his hands and then sits down. Across the room. Far away. Far, far away from the eye candy. FAR away.

"Well. You said you were starting to see the finished puzzle. And I think you were going to tell us what it was?"

Peabody is almost beside himself with restraint laughter, his body shuddering and shaking from the strain of holding it all in. And then women shove cupcakes in each of his hands and walk away. He blinks down at his hands, then back over at Slade and says simply, "Best. Day. Ever." and stuffs a cupcake into his maw without bothering to unwrap it. He goes in full on top like a toddler with a handful of cake but with slightly more motor control. Slightly.

Slade just clears his throat and adjusts his tac harness with it's guns and knives. Ahem. "Peoples tend to gear their warriors towards their enemies. You have a villain that is a propoganda master, worming it's way across Europe? You make a living breathing counter to it, a flag emblazoned bill board that punches people, you give him a super shield to further the image of a protective America. When your enemy lurks amid the shadows and darkness, hides among the civilians you build yourself a hound to hunt them down and root them out, a soldier made for he dark and the mud and to him you give a sword because it's not an age for warm happy messages, it's an age of pragmatic solutions to problems otherwise unsolveable." If ever there was a moment the hilt peeking up over Slade's unarmored back became more notice worthy one would be hard pressed to find it.

"If you're a people facing a foe that is psychicly skilled, changes it's shape, a weapon designed for infiltration, how best to fight it?" he asks and he looks to Lux, "We've been doing it for years now. You build a drone. A machine, with no mind to be read, that cannot be fooled by an altered shape." he begins to pace again, thinking, "And you're a species clearly capable of interstellar travel, inter/dimensional/ travel even. You are locked to a single shape, so any inhabited world you go to you would stand out, clearly unlike the natives that lived there while the Daemonites would merely blend instantly amid the locals, vanishing from sight. Everywhere you go you draw attention for your differences while your foe is inivsible." he's talking like a man who understands this sort of dilemma all to well, and it makes sense. Most of the wars since Vietnam were exactly like this. He looks around the room and continues, "So you design your drone to act like your enemy. You give it the ability to assimilate local biomater, disassemble, reassemble, study, learn. Once it's completed that step, it can remake itself into a form like a native." he blinks, "I never thought Tick Tock was trying to kill us, it could have done that easily, it was trying to understand things." he looks around at the ship, "It's so advanced we can't understand how to even communicate with it, which means it's so advanced it can't talk to us either, it has to learn how to be stupid enough to comprehend us." he eyes Lux again, his eyes wide. Clearly while he's talking he's already miles ahead of his won train of thought.

"That thing in the bunker had been in Henshaw's head for…What, twenty years?" Audrey holds the cupcake in one hand, the way she folds the wrapped in the other betraying some of her nerves. "It had unrestricted access to a human consciousness for years. If it couldn't figure out how to communicate by the time we got there, I doubt it really wants to." Which isn't exactly reassuring, either.

Lunair considers it. "Maybe its basic linguistic and logic circuits wouldn't let it. Human speech requires certain anatomical and neural components. It's really easy to screw up something along the way and if you're HSL with completely differing anatomy, it would ultimately be hopeless. But that's a theory. Or perhaps it chose not to." She looks thoughtful. "And perhaps like people, there is a critical language development period? I do not know. I mostly watched and read a lot…" She seems to absorb knowledge like small children absorb sugar.

"It may have been disuse as well." Then she considers. "Even among human languages, each language requires such different - phonemes and qualia." Beat. "I think. I missed out on a lot of it." It shows. Like a naked woman painted as pink as a flamingo standing atop a phone booth. In Utah.

Nevertheless, she considers it. "But maybe it is so advanced." She is no expert, and looks apologetic. She deos have to smile at Peabody a bit. Hee. She is genuinely pleased people appreciate her hobbywork.

With no cupcake, nor books to keep her hands busy, she looks at them briefly before closing her fingers together into a tight fist. "So advanced.." She continues off of Lunair's line of thought. "That it forgot to pretty much say 'hello' and 'please'." She shrugs faintly, then looks up towards Peabody.. who had a little schmut.. right there.. nope.. nevermind.

Deathstroke shakes his head at Audrey, "You're thinking small, confined." he says, "Don't think of it like a machine, think of it like…" his words trail off, "Okay." he plants his hands on a terminal and leans towards them all, "Think of it like it were me." he says simply, "Imagine I were on an alien world and by assimilating bits of native life I could build for myself a perfect mask. Once my mask was complete, what then? Do I stay, fight over the mind of the one person who was capable of shutting me out for short periods of time? Why bother? I am aware this thing was bombed into oblivion by those that had imprisoned me to begin with, by bother with a dead man when I have a mission to complete." he looks around the room. "Can you see me, with my primary goal of blending in complete, sticking around to deal with a single thorn that I already think is dead? Remember, Henshaw told us he'd been hiding, successfully, until we shined a light on him during our visit. And the instant we did…" something hacked Henshaw's brain. Right in front of them.

Peabody snorts, "Please? Hello?" he says around a mouthful of cake, "Why would it bother? If the Nazi's had hidden among the indiginous back water peoples of the Amazon during the war, do you think the Allies would have asked for their help? No. They'd have moved in and done what needed doing and lamented the loss of a remedial civilation years later once the war was won. Why would this drone think to speak to us? By all accounts the Deamonites have been here for ages and we havn't noticed until now. It's from a speices that roams the universe/s/, and we can't get one nation to work with another without panties twisting up into Godian knots. Why would it be worried about humanity's concent or help? To it, how remidial must we appear?" he asks, "I can hack a military database with an IPhone, I have 2 advanced degrees from MIT in technologies most of you don't understand." he points a half a cupcake at Lunair and Rant, "I actually understand how both of you work, more or less, but I can't get this damned thing," he nudges the terminal he's leaning against, "to so much as make me a cup of coffee. Imagine being that smart and having to deal with us. Would you make sure it was okay with the Zebras if you had to stop the Nazi's from taking over Africa? I wouldn't." he nods at Slade, "He sure as shit would not. He'd do the mission and zebras be damned." His points are somewhat flattened by the icing smeared over part of his chin. Slade is quiet for a moment then adds, "I like zebras. I would limit collateral damage… which might be why this thing hasn't hacked our militaries and just had us nuke the planet yet. Small favors."

"Except it's not ignoring us. Not entirely." Audrey knocks lightly on the wall next to herself. "We've been living in this place for months. He keeps tinkering with it," she points at Peabody. "And it hasn't kicked us out." Setting the wrapper aside, she carefully separates the bottom of the cupcake from the iced top. "And if the info from this dead drop is accurate, they or someone using their mission and technology have built a network of people to help-"

She stops, wincing. "Right. Because Leonidas or whoever's pulling the strings wasn't trapped in that bunker. He got out. Henshaw and all those…things were the early prototypes. We thought we'd been fighting what there was. We were fighting what they had forty years ago. It can communicate. It's been communicating. It's been communicating with one hundred and sixty four cells and five special projects cells of people it understood enough to recruit to its cause."

Lunair is listening again. She nods at Peabody, too. Zebras are pretty rad. "Do you think perhaps it might even find us useful?" Endearing? Hilarious? Like people watching a gorilla figure out a Gameboy? "Or perhaps it takes pity and waits for us to figure it out." Like a patient teacher or colleague.

Melody just shrugs helplessly at Peabody. All of this, everything was way, way beyond her capacity for thinking. Hell, she didn't even have her nanites on to even search for the words to come up with for this moments. She couldn't google-fu, access previous memories? Nothing. She was just the teams cheerleader! Rah, rah, sis boom bah! Sort of. "Well. Either way. It's not eating us yet.." Yet. Until someone or something slips up.

Deathstroke follows Lux's logic, "Except it's not forty years." he says, "It didn't get out of there that long ago, it was twenty. It's built a network of cells and intelligence in two decades that it took a nation fifty years to match. This Leonidas, he's invisible, everywhere…" he shakes his head, "And I'm not certain he's in control of this ship either. Note, there is no crew, and this thing didn't awaken twenty years ago when it was activated and ready to go to war. What could it have done with a ship like this at it's command and us having not yet developed computers smaller then a sofa? It could have won its war handily. No… I think the Resolve is derelict, something went wrong and all hands abandoned ship. If Nth metal is alive, then maybe this ship was running on back up power, just enough to take years to… to…" his train of thought falls apart and his jaw works, "Fuck me." he says simply. "This thing, the scientists found Tick Tock under a Greecian ruin. It landed /five thousand/ years ago, we dug it up and poked it with sticks. What if it was sent here to handle the threat, with this ship. Whatever damaged the ship damaged it, it never deployed like it was supposed to. Five thousand years on back up power the Resolve fixes most of it's systems, slowly, carefully, while this thing sits dormant on the planet. We dig it up and poke it with sticks, maybe the scientists gave it a power source and it woke up, went to work." he looks around and reaches up to rub his eye with a knuckle.

"That's ancient history, unimportant." sigh. "This Leonidas has been opperational for a couple of decades and has an entrenched network of unattached cells fighting a gurellia war on our world we're only now realizing is a thing. The Daemonites are a clear threat, but SHIELD and those bumbling scientists at the Baxter Building are out poking that hornets nest on their own. Leonidas…" he lets the word hang and his eye narrows, "is my mess." he looks around, "This isn't an Authority matter, I'll not make my problems ours. If you want in, that's fine, but this is volenteer only." he shoots Rant and Lunair a quick look, "And think carefully. It's a self sustaining machine built for warfare the way I was, only more advanced. It hacks things." he's pretty pointed in his stare now, "Think about it."

"Too much to hope we had an ally," Audrey grumbles, eating the bottom part of the cupcake. "But I'm in." As if there was any question. The downside of training someone in intelligence: they always want to know more.

Lunair tilts her head. Paradox: Too much time hesitating, questionable dedication. Too little time, stupidity. Then she shrugs and nods. "I am in. I think I grasp what goes on. And in truth, you're kinda the best boss I've ever had. Like a scary space grandpa who could kick ass." Beam. "So yes, I am in." She seems happy to help Deathstroke. And she - has a way with words? A terrible one.

Eh. Now it was her turn. Why, she wouldn't look like a wimp if she backs out, right? Though, there were times where she could have, just packed up and left the ship and walked that lonely road with her thumb out on the highway. But in truth, she's.. really got no purpose back home. And she felt the need to have a purpose. To do some good at least, even if nobody is even looking at the Authority.

"Well. I'm in." She says finally, no nonsense about it. "When? I want to get some training in before we do anything." Some? That was her offhandedly asking to be pushed to the point of shattering. This was serious business now.

Deathstroke tilts his head at Audrey, "I'm not sure he's not an ally either, but I've been at this game long enough to know ally or not, you keep an eye on everyone." there's a reason there are CIA offices in London and it's not for the food. Allies are allies, but that doesn't mean you-"Did you just call me a grandpa?" he asks, turning his gaze on Lunair, "I am no one's grandfather." He might be in his seventies, but dammit, he's no grandfather!

Rant's comment as him shooting her a look, then looking around the room. He glances at Peabody who just glares a deathstare at Slade for even letting the thought cross his mind. Peabody is family, Wilsons and Wintergreens are ever insepterable.

Slade merely nods an apology and moves on, "We start with fortifying our possition and getting some coraboration. Right now most of what I've said is conjecture, built from intel certainly, but my mind finds patterns not truths, just so happens those two things line up a great deal of the time, but not all the time. Lux, continue your work with Trent's people, steer them away from Leonidas if you can, but keep a weather eye out, they've been useful so far I'll not give up that advantage while it's available. We'll discuss a trip to your secret stash later, we'll need to use it without blowing your cover and I have a few ideas for that but you won't like them." then he looks to Lunair, "This thing, whatever it is, it's got it's claws deep in the intelligence community and it has cells running about. While Lux continues to chase down this Deamonite thing, I want you splitting your focus on two things, Nth metal research and seeing if you can't begin to locate or identify any of these cells. We'll get you what intel we can on it, but figuring these things out is almost always a matter of higher maths." which should explain why he wants her on it. "And you," his gaze finally settles on Rant, "I'm going make you into a weapon." his smile is down right predatory and one imagines the public hugging punishment is something he'll devote some serious time to.

"Yes sir," Audrey nods, finishing the bottom part of the cupcake and starting in on the top part. Things may be full of doom and potential horror, but at least she's got a cupcake.

"I like math," She offers. "And sorry. I mean like, older fellow who is totally badass?" She considers. "Well… You're an awesome boss, and I get the feeling you work really hard and um. I'm gonna shut up now." She helpfully looks horrified and puts a hand over her mouth. She nods at Deathstroke. "Okay." Nth metal and identifying cells! MATHS AHOY! She can do that, surely! Actually, she does seem to learn at an alarmingly fast pace. Learning even to invest over a weekend. But Lunair just looks happy and kind of beams. Then her eyes widen at his task for Rant. Oooooooh. Thankfully she does not verbally go 'ooooooh'. Just the sort of one you get in your brain when someone is in trouble~

"Wait, does this mean I'm Peabody's minion?" Woohoo! Moved from scrub to minion! Aw yiss. Things are full of doom, gloom and probably horror (body and otherwise), but there's cupcakes and by god, she's a /minion/.

For sooome reason, Melody just wanted to smack herself. Yeah she needed to train, she knew that but a weapon? Man, she's never going home, probably not even to pee. "Uh.. how?" Why did she even ask?! But, a job is a job and it's going to get done with the best of her abilities, and all of them were given a long, lingering last look. Not too long, then it'll be awkward. Though, the predatory smile didn't help matters either.. maybe if she gives him another hug, he'll stop. With that thought in mind, she rises, arms out.. and.. promptly sits right back down. No. No hugs. No more hugs.

Peabody perks up, "I get a minion? Always wanted a minion." he shoots Lunair a look and grins his own feral smile, "Minion is good."

Slade just continues to grin, "Have you ever heard of Hell Week?" he asks curiously, "The SEALs have a tradition, it involves /intense/ physical and mental hazing, it lasts seven days, grown men are broken, hard men, soldiers and spec ops men who's been in the shit will crumble and fall apart during Hell Week. Yours starts when this meeting is over and it ends when you no longer disappoint me, which is to say… maybe a month. The real joy of SEAL training is that if you fail you can ring the bell, wash out. Quit. For you that is not going to be an option. If you're in, I own your ass. There is no quit, no going home, no hope. There is only the work, which you will complete or you will die." he rolls his shoulders like he was warming up, "It'll be like my old Team days all over again, only this time you're going to start with a healing factor, means no need for kid gloves." he nods sagely, "This is gonna hurt. A lot." he sounds excited about it. Her premptively cancelled hug only has him smiling wider.

Audrey doesn't really need Hell Month. And if she doesn't want to enjoy that sort of thing herself, she knows well enough to keep her mouth occupied with cupcake.

Lunair beams at Peabody. Yay! A minion! "Cool beans." She seems glad to help out. Peabody's feral smile is lost on her. She only reads it as a smile. Then she listens. Her eyes widen a bit. Oh boy, Deathstroke in happy glee mode. Does he glee over his favorite shows, collectibles or whatever?

And Lunair - while she had training, and even probably a degree of paramilitary type training, figures that she wants no part of this. Nope. Though, she does look concerned. A thoughtful look. And hey, her cupcakes and random meeting treats do serve a purpose. Little spots of light and tangible joy. Also good for preventing outbursts.

There it is! Melody's regret! Total, total regret. The more she hears of Hell Month the more she wants to tap out right then and there. Her shoulders slump, her leg begins to bounce, and oh boy does she wish she could snort some goddamned cocaine. But.. no going home. Nothing. She's.. stuck. And she agreed to this shit! Man, the eternal struggle that wears on her face at that moment looks insanely horrible. "Okay.." She slowly says..

"I.. think I should call my mom first.." Stall tactic! "You know.. to talk.. stuff." No cupcakes here. Damn.

Peabody stands up straighter, "Minion!" he says, "More cupcakes!" and thrusts a hand in the general direction of where ever it was he installed the oven, "Ooo, and coffee. We're gonna need soooo much coffee." he still has icing all over his chin and is oblivious.

Slade gives Lux a curt nod, sending her on her way, and his attention falls back on Rant, "By all means, your training begins in twenty minutes." he strides past her towards teh door, "I have some contacts of my own to pursue. You should put your affairs in order while I'm at it." he pauses at the door, "Resolve:" he says aloud, and there's the tiniest ding of acknowledgement from his coms, "Command override. Timer set, one half hour. Upon completion all transmission and transportation privledges of codename Rant are to be revoked until further notice." he shoots her a nod as he disappears from the bridge, headed to where ever, "Use the time wisely!" he calls over his shoulder.

Lunair is indeed a minion! She beams. "You know it. What kind?" She asks. "And totally. I like tea, too." She'll probably heat up some water, for either of the coffee or the tea. But cupcakes and math as well as analysis and helping Peabody are in order. She actually seems happy with her lot.

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