Let Them Eat Cake. Even If It's Fattening.

April 10, 2016:

Audrey and Lunair have some information about a different sort of alien for Deathstroke. Also, there's cake.

The Resolve

The mysterious alien spaceship home of the Authority.

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions: star-lord

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

The staff whirls through a complicated series of mind numbing routines, which in and of itself isn't that awe inspiring, not really. Everyone's seen Hong Kong action flicks at this point, Donnie Yen can handle a staff in much the same manner, Jet Li too. But neither of them can go that /fast/, nor do they have the strength to use a weapon made of Prometheum and to make it stop and change direction in stateling fashion, the long staff whistling as it cuts the air first one way then the next, bending just enough to show the strain Slade puts on it with his sudden directional alterations, only to spring back with lethal speed increase.

Under the compression shirt one can see the buldge of the bandage on his right shoulder, and if they were paying attention, another along his lower back. Neither seems to effect him that much however, or perhapse he's walking down the hall working through his staff routines as a means to deal with the injuries. It's been 8 days since their visit to Cambodia adn the silent awkward flight home afterward. He's been gone on 'missions' more or less since then, rarely on the Resolve and often radio silent. Something clearly got to him, though now that he's back, perhaps he worked through it.

Usually, when Audrey returns to the Resolve, it's as unremarkable as when she leaves. Subtle, quiet, invisible. It's what she does. This time, though, if anyone's watching the security feeds, they'll see a very different sight. Instead of her usual jeans, blouse, and jacket, Audrey's dressed for a night on the town. A black silk tunic with a plunging, beaded v-neck over leather leggings and strappy heels. Not to mention the smoky eyeshadow and the dark red lips.

She doesn't even pretend Peabody isn't going to notice that, either. "Peabody, I've got a possible lead on more daemonite intel," she says to the empty hallway, headed for the training room. It's the first place to look for Deathstroke, after all.

Lunair likes Deathstroke. He's like the grumpiest, but most fair boss ever. And best of all, he has no intention to eventually vivisect her. Everything is coming up Luna! Though, after the adventure(?) with Adeline, Lunair feels kind of sympathetic and sad. Both were hurt so, so much. Nevertheless, Lunair is ambling about. She doesn't poke at Slade. She happens to like him not transforming into Sailor Deathstroke and dropkicking her out the airlock to sparkly anime music.

Oxygen: Totally fab! She has a small cooler with bottles of fresh water, and the scent of something sweet, and chocolatey beneath a serving dome. She did promise Rant something tasty if she survived, and while lunch was delivered…, well.

She doesn't question Audrey. Girls have needs. Although, it would be a surprise and source of amusement to Lunair. "Hi! I'm testing times it takes to get across places and - holy stick of death." She just spotted Deathstroke on her entrance and his twirly whirly face smashing training routine. "… how are you guys?"

Deathstroke isn't even in the training hall this time! Hooray! No, he's taken to just training between walks down the long coridors apparently, as Luk finishes her sentence to Peabody just in time to spot Slade making his way around the long curve of the passageway, whirly stick of death in hand. The intercom's only answer comes in a form of a ship wide wolf whistle of appreciation, presumably from where ever it is Peabody is holed up in.

The staff comes to a stop with a soft hum of reverboration, "You missed the briefing." he says flatly, giving Audrey a down/up look, "If this intel is worthwhile consider it forgiven." he offers by means of hope of not having to endure a 4 hour 'training' exercise as punishment, or whatever it is he'd cook up. Maybe a Luni Cookie Embargo or something. He's sneaky with his punishments.

Audrey smirks faintly at Peabody's response, shaking her head until Deathstroke comes down the hall. She doesn't look embarrassed about any of it, nodding once to the threat. "Turns out there's a new alien sort in town. And not the Kryptonian ones. Or the sort who think they're policing the galaxy." Always a plus. "Peter Quill. Mercenary slash scavenger. The interesting part is, he's got intel on a Shi'ar scout and research ship that's crashed somewhere in the Canadian wilderness. One that they want off this planet before some of those damned dangerous apes of humans get their hands on it. But being a scout and research ship? Solid chance it may have information about the daemonites on it."

Lunair blinks. "You're adorable!" She beams at Audrey. There's chocolate cake under that serving dome, with chocolate 'lava' running down its side. "Really? Neat." Her eyes widen. She goes quiet to listen. "Hi boss!" Lunair just really seems to be okay with Deathstroke. No vivisection or dart drones. 5/5 stars on Yelp/Glassdoor. Would be recruited again. All joking aside, she listens more than talks for a moment.

The staff in his hand collapses down into a 2 foot length of metal with a snkiting hiss and he twirls it in a tight circle through his fingers, "Did you get the location of the ship from your asset?" he asks curiously. He took in the dress and her statement about the usefulness of this new contact of his has him, of course, assuming she's running an asset like any good recon officer would. Which is sorta her job on the team. Spy-Lux.

"Thanks, Luna," Audrey smiles briefly over at the other girl before she looks back to Deathstroke. "I saw it on the map when he was talking to his source. He was looking for help. Asked for mine." People just up and ask Audrey for help in taking her to the places she wants to go to find things out. It's terribly convenient, really. Looking up at the ship around her, she considers for a moment. "He's got a gift with the alien tech, too. Built a communicator that let him connect with his source using spare parts from a microwave. I didn't say anything about us, obviously, but he's looking for work."

With her questions and greetings soundly ignored repeatedly, Lunair settles silent - at least, to Deathstroke. She has her cargo with her. She smiles back to Audrey and looks back to their boss. She is duly impressed. Lunair has her talents, and she's not so much with the socially business. Unless someone needs a lava cake. Then she's got you.

Then she adds, "He came to earth because some aliens ganked his ship. He was naked." Beat. "Yup."

Deathstroke nods his head at that, "Peabody's always complaining about being short handed and we've been running him thin. I'll look into the guy, give him a fair once over." Slade never said the rest of them couldn't recruit, but he /did/ say anyone who makes the team /makes/ the team. They lost a few good people in the death maze in the bowels of the ship, Flashpoint comes to mind, and Hobgoblin didn't last long either, though his sudden disappearance didn't seem to go noted by anyone.

Lunair's words draw his attention and Slade seems more interested now, "So two of you have met him already?" he asks, curiosity growing.

"I ran into him when a group of elemental sorts tried to make a hit on Rogers," Audrey nods to Deathstroke. "He got in the way." Not that that's going to endear him to Deathstroke, but there's no way around explaining that one.

"Yupyup, I bought the poor guy some clothes and a smart phone. I felt bad. No one deserves to be a space nudist on Earth." She totally misread the situation, actually convinced that Peter is a Space Nudist. Lunair nods. "He was interested in a Nazi jewel heist I saw posted on an old merc app, so I pointed him that way. He is definitely a mercenary slash thief. His weapons were really high tech." A beat. Nod. She look curious at Audrey's story.

To explain: "Someone found a stash of Nazi riches and needed help reclaiming it." Lunair clarifies.

Deathstroke's relationship to Rogers is a complicated one, people attacking the Captain is good. People actually killing him is not. Slade's partiottism /slightly/ out weighs his desire for harm to befall the good Captain. Slightly. He eyes Lunair after Lux speaks, taking in her story as well. "So, we happen to be currently embroiled in a shadow war with two alien species who've been on the planet, presumably, for millenia. One of which is so secretive we didn't even have a /name/ for them until yesterday, a speices so advanced we're living on a ship we don't understand who's tech is so advanced it dwarfs our understanding of the tech we've gleaned from other alien races who've ended up here." he looks back and forth to the two women, "And in the same week we manage to, through what I admit was a great personal sacrifice on my part, gather the first helpful intel against our whispered barely there opponent, /two/ memebers of my team, meaning a full 50% of my field opperatives, run into the /same/ alien who I presume is both attractive and naked and /just/ happens to have access to something that might help us in our continued shadow conflict." he says all of this, laying it out layer by layer in this manner. His gaze eventually settles on Lux, "When put that way, anything about it seem more then a little off to you?"

"It would if I hadn't met him," Audrey deadpans in response to Deathstroke. "He's not bright enough to be the mastermind behind all of this. "And if it weren't through so many levels of coincidence. I was tracking Rogers, so there's no reason he would've been expecting to run into me there. We're dealing with a few levels of species differentiation when it comes to who they've run into. And my understanding is he's been on the planet long enough that the timelines don't actually line up."

"Um. Well, I met him awhile back. I just didn't point every single alien I meet your way. Or else you'd have like, the son of Hulk, Miss Starfire and a few others," Lunair considers. "He didn't mention the ship stuff to me. I mostly helped him adjust to life on Earth again." And bring him the Googles. "The time lines deeeeeefinitely wouldn't match up." She nods. "I simply felt that 'Lunair meets and helps random alien dudeguy' was not necessarily relevant. It would be thoughtless to waste your guys' time," She points out. Or at least, Lunair thinks so.

Deathstroke listens to Audrey's words and seems to actually /listen/ not just hear them, "If it were me and I was running a distraction op, or one designed to break apart an investigation into me, I wouldn't go with violence as a first resort, not understanding who my oppnent was." he waves a hand at the group in the hall, say what you want, but there are few 'teams' out there with this one's ability and willingness to throw down with extreme prejustice, "I would be tracking us and looking for an opening, we don't /know/ what spceies differential there is because so far your only intel on what species you're dealing with is coming from a questionable source, and our target has been on the planet for five millenia meaning timing means nothing. Making something seem new or old would be childsplay because they have access to both at a whim." he reaches up to cup his chin, fingers gliding over his goattee in a thoughtful manner as he considers all of this.

While he ponders he speaks to Lunair's points, "I have no interest in Hulk's son, not while we had Banner himself here, and honestly I wanted Banner more then Hulk anyway. As for Koriand'r, it's best she and I not mingle. We have history." he shakes his head after a long moment, "The timing might not be perfect, but I get the feeling we're playing a little out of our league here and this all is to well timed for me not to be suspicious. It's been my long life experience that nothing good just falls into your lap, someone places it there for a reason adn then it's up to you to suss out all the angles." he looks back and forth to the two women, "Luckily for us the plan doesn't change much either way. We let this play out. Lux, keep him on the line, if you think it would help I'll meet him personally if required, but you'll remain his main contact with the team, work your asset but be aware that he might be a plant. Best case, he's exactly what he appears, this is all super helpful, and you can do with him as you like. Worst case, we spring a trap set by a clever opponent and that will tell us something more about them that we didn't know, maybe get us closer to them anyway. Armory," he faces the other woman, "build on your shopping spree friendship with him, use the other angle. Don't do to much or move to fast, but remain friendly with him if /slightly/ aloof. If he's legit then," he shrugs, "maybe there's a chance he could use a real friend, and if he's a plant and somehow he figures out Lux is playing him, he might think he still has an 'in' with you to the Authority." he looks back and forth betwen the two, "This way you both get to continue doing whatever it is you want with this naked space man, but … be careful and suspicious. Just in case." his hand drops from his chin and he grins, "If it's a play, then it means our target is getting desperate, and if it's not this could be a stroke of tremendous luck. I'll keep trying to discover the trap should their be one, but either way, if we play this right, this is win/win territory and with our new intel I feel like we're /finally/ starting to get the upper hand." his smile turns slightly wolfish at this.

"I'll watch my back," Audrey nods. Like she ever doesn't. "I'd be interested in getting your take on him, but without knowing more about where he's from and what possible connections he might have, I'm hesitant to introduce you myself. Aside from the fact that letting anyone see a connection between you and me threatens my cover with SHIELD." Audrey has a lot of balls in the air when it comes to not telling people things. "I can point you to where he might be at a given time, but probably best he doesn't connect the two of us either way."

"Me too," Lunair promises. "I can introduce you two. He wanted work, and you do works." She quirks a smile. "Or not," She considers. "And of course!" She nodsnods. Then a puzzled look. "Yes, yes, that is why I did not introduce the extraneous aliens? Because I felt irrelevant slash not in your interests?" She is not sure if he agreed or disagreed with her earlier words. Lunair pauses. "You guys wanna test my chocolate lava?" Lunair is pretty good about keeping her trap shuts when she needs to.

"When and if you want me to do that," Lunair corrects.

Deathstroke nods his head at Lux as she speaks, "Agreed." a glance is shot Lunair's way, "Your connection to me is already suspected if not outright known among certain circles, it's rumored I've subcontracted you for a few jobs. If this man," he pauses, "who's name I don't know yet apparently," small grin at his own slip up there, "is looking for mercenary work and to build a rep it would be concievable you'd link us up. Lets do that, lead me to him through Lunair and we'll let Lux continue her own mission her way." he nods, "And should he be a plant it could look like Lux was keeping him secret from me, make it appear there's a crack in our team work and a weakness to exploit." his eye narrows thoughtfully, "It would be a nice way to place a trap of our own into this mix." he really does plan out numerous eventualities. After a moment he shoots Lux a look, "This is good work and you seem suited to it. I know my way around espionage, but at my heart I'm a soldier first and foremost. Once we've exhausted my skills in this area of training I will see if I cannot find you a more experienced tutor to continue your education. You take to this better then you do the field." which is saying something, so far the only person on the team who's field work he's been less then pleased with is Rant's… and he's taken steps to fix that.

He looks towards teh two ladies once more and grins, "This is a step in the right direction and /finally/ we have information to go one, leads." he snaps, "Which reminds me, Lux you missed the briefing the details of which have been placed in your tablet, don't take it off the ship but catch up."

"Yes, sir," Audrey nods sharply regarding the briefing. "His name's Peter Quill. Birth records are in Missouri. And I'll look forward to the training," she adds. The worst part is, she's not even brown nosing about it. "It's where I was headed with the program, but lately…" She shakes her head. "Luck and the crash course of living on the street is one thing. Real skill's going to take a little bit more to develop."

"Totally, she is awesome," Lunair agrees. She nods as Deathstroke glances her way. "Okie dokey. You got it, sir." Yes indeedy. Lunair seems happiest doing science stuff, looking after the others and generally killing or blowing things up. There's a smile at his grin. Lunair seems happy he's back more to himself. Even if he's a little more hole-y than usual. Then she settles quiet. She seems to still be finding her own exact role. Unless it's Swiss-Army-Knife Luna. Which might just be how she rolls.

Deathstroke nods his head, "I'll make a few inquiries." and lets be honest, it'd be hard to find a better connected man in these lines of work. While they talk he reaches over to lift the lid of Lunair's little plate thinger and inhales slightly, "Forks?" he asks with something that almost sounds hopeful. Shiftyeye.

"I'll go get the forks," Audrey volunteers, not quite hiding a small smile. "Not missing out on Luna's latest culinary experiment just because I don't have a fork on me. Couldn't fit one in these pants."

"You know it!" Lunair beams. She shuffles around her stuff. There's a simple metal case and forks. With a simple, small cake knife. "You guys get first slices." Smile. Lunair seems genuinely happy. "And aw, thank you." She looks happy, even more so at Audrey's words. "Hey, you look awesome. Not everyone can pull a nice look off." And she'll pause. "Um. Where should I set this?" Smile.

Indeed, Lunair made a full blown chocolate lava volcano cake. There's soft, gooey lava atop a warm, spongetastic chocolate cake that seems to have turned out really well. "It's a pain figuring out how to keep the lava lava-y but not mouth burney or crisped."

Deathstroke takes one of the offered forks and looks around the hall, "We're shy a table." he points out and picks up the knife as well, eyeing the tiny thing with suspicion. In his hand it looks like a childs toy or perhapse a scalple. He shrugs and moves to cut the cake while Lunair holds it. Dessert patience is for sissies.

"I'll bet Luna could fix that," Audrey notes at the talk of a table, an encouraging smile flickering for the other girl. "Pretty sure the power armor's equal mass and way more complicated. And thanks," she adds, glancing down at herself. "I don't get to do it much. But it's nice every now and then."

"I've never done a tablet. Let's try." Lunair looks thoughtful, concentrating a moment. She furrows her eyebrows. Table, table. Luna's gonna get wood—en furniture going. A table! "There, like that? Heey." A beam at Audrey. "That's true. I just hadn't really - thought about furniture." Maybe dropping a Lazyboy recliner on someone would ruin their day? She nods at Audrey's words. Lunair will keep the cake steady till DS is done and they can set it down.

Deathstroke gets the first cut in then waits, full of sissy patience, for Lunair to set the plate down before once more attacking it with the knife. Rar! "One doesn't much appreciate a moment of luxury until one is intimately familiar with the realities of living without any." he says as if quoteing someone. He shoots Lux a small smile, "I know the feeling." then he's serving up gooey cake. Which is a weird place for him, he's not exactly easy to picture as the domestic type. Serving cake. To other people. Cognative disotence is strong today.

"Nice," Audrey grins when Lunair creates the table, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "Knew you could do it." And then it's time for cake. Domestic moments are nice things.

Lunair appreciates it. She smiles as he goes to cut it for them. "Yeah," She agrees with his quote. They might one day learn that Lunair hates bland food because it reminds her far too much of her time in hospitals and labs. She beams at Audrey. Domestic moments are precious to her, too. And really, she might only be a little surprised. Deathstroke is a complex, multifaceted being - even if he hides it very well to most people. He IS a dad, after all.

With that, she seems content to linger with them and share the gooey, warm chococake. The ingredients are expensive, and good quality. She takes it seriously, it seems. Or she knows she's giving it to other people. Hard to say. "Thanks, guys. I appreciate the taste testing." Beam.

Deathstroke starts to eat the cake with continuing the warm chatty talk about domestic like things. He can only meet them so far and while it's not exactly halfway, its further then most likely suspected he'd go. He's clearly a hard man, softening up even a teeny bit takes effort, at least when it's real. He can fake it like a /champ/. "I was never here." he says with a bite, "You never saw this." another nibble, "This never happened." then the intercom chirps, "HEY! Someone /better/ bring me left overs! I can /see/ you, you know!"

Audrey chuckles at the noise from the intercom, pulling out another plate. "I got it," she says to the others as she cuts another slice. "And I promise not to eat his slice on the way." And then she's off down the hall, holding up the plate. "Of course, I could always deliver a slice of illusion cake!" she calls to the intercoms. Poor Peabody. The never-ending torment.

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