Rhubarb Pie or Death!

November 21, 2016:

Ravager gets cofffee, shot at, attacked by Kung Fu and recruited.


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Target Acquired

*text across a screen reads out the bio of Rose Wilson-Worth aka 'The Ravager'*

A cold night, just shy of 30 degrees somewhere north of Gotham but south of New York City. A diner sits on the corner, the only gas station for miles now. It is well lit, looks inviting, a typical truck stop on a lonely road. It's the perfect place for a traveler to take a load off.

Tracking Target

Ravager has had one hell of a realization with the backlash hitting home. She is on a hunt for Cyberdata in a manner that is wreckless as she has to have someone else to take it out on, and they were the last to threaten her home.

A flash of headlights, the Uber pulls up and lets the woman out with the booted kick of a backdoor and the fall of cans as well as a plume of smoke. Leather pants laden in straps ride up legs, bearing holsters for a small arsenal, quickly concealed by the swing and splay of a long leather trench-coat lined in grey/white fur and buttoned at the corcet-cinched waist.

A jerk of arms and it is sealed off, the hood hugged to cheeks, framing pale and scarred facade, one eye an arctic blue, the other milky white… But slowly the bionics adjust and add an iris where none is.

Door pushed aside the long drop of lapels sweep back around knee high boots, then falls back into place, a cigarette butt crunched to ashen death beneath treads.

After so long of hunting for a lead… Pie and coffee…

The diner is quaint, peaceful, smells of grease, gasoline, nicotine and pie. Like they should smell. The blonde waitress within is the only one in her red apron and yellow under shirt. She gives Rose one look as she enters then puts out her cigarette, crushing it in to the ashtray on the counter. No indoor smoking this side of the state.
"Be right with you." She says just as the chime from the hanging doorbell. Knocked on entry. Those present? A heavy set man at the end, trucker cap pulled low enough it almost touches his beard and bulbous nose and a young couple at an end booth, giggling and bumping shoulders together as they stare at a singular phone together.

Outside in the sky obscured from the visual an object hovers then shimmies lower.

Tracking Target

How would one track?

That singular eye flashes just before it takes on a humanoid appearance to match her other eye and become humanoid.

Call me Cruella, Medusa, that's something I'm used to
I'm sure you heard the story,
and I'm the one to blame..

"Lemon marengue, coffee, sugar, cream. Whenever, finish the cig." A waffling wave of hand and the woman slides into a booth with a press of boot that has her kicking her feet along the empty length just before her so the entire side of booth is taken up by her. No room at the inn unless you sit on the other side of the table.

I guess I got a reputation now…

"lemon marengue is all out kiddo, the rest I can do. You'll have to settle for rhubarb or apple." The woman doesn't skip a beat to pick up the rest of the cigarette and place it back in to her mouth, puffing away despite the customers.
Not much motion comes from the heavyset trucker. The other two booth goe-ers continue to laugh and giggle together.
It is as advertised, quaint, easy going. If one doesn't mind the smell and company.

A screech sound is heard and a truck pulls in. No one pays it any attention.

Phase 2 Initiated - Awaiting Further Orders

Rose takes the cue by the waitress, pulling ut her own pack of cigs, although imports and bearing a more potent odor mingled with tobacco, a tap and lit, she squints. "Rhubarb? You wanna kill me?"


"Apple, then, heated, scoop of ice cream?" Ravager's head leans back against the window behind her in her prop in the booth, tilting as the jake-breaks squal on the semi, watching and looking away to offer the waitress a drag of something better.

"Tip." With a small smile offered.

… Though the other hand is resting upon the small of her back over the holster of blades and pistols.

The door swings open to reveal a woman rushing a child by the hand, "Bathroom?" She almost screeches, "To your left, all the way back." The waitress says before looking towards the ballcap and beard at the end they have to pass by.
"Well shit." She spits suddenly, "That complicates things."
A sub-machine gun lifts up from behind the counter just as the waitress responds to Rose, "Matter of a fact dear, we do."

In time with what she is saying the big man at the end of the bar opens up his jacket to reveal two sawedoff shotguns. The two giggling and laughing couple flip out from behind their seat, one has two sets of bladed fans and the other a set of kamas. The peaceful and Happy Days diner just became a Kill Bill playground.

Orders Unsent

Operatives Taking Unauthorized Action

It's too late now to stop the process
This was your choice you let it in
This double life you lead is eating you up from within..

Ravagr is not one to rest fully, not feel comfort… As the woman with her child shuttles past, those eyes watch and the hand at her back rests a weapon in her lap, the pistol slowly clicked off, when it came to safety…

"I figured as much." Deathstroke's daughter, Cyberdata's enemy, one constantly seeking a place and redemption - acceptance… It is part and parcel.

Twin pistols shoot into hands, the Glocks switched with safeties off to aim one at the couple and the other at the waitress, all the while she rises from the booth with glass shattering out behind her like shrapnel wings from the window while those cherubim reinforced blades pivot from the mechanis along arms - ripping her coat open - to reveal the dual blades..

The fans are used in a defensive manner, held up in front of the man with long slender features and long hair. Bullets actually *TING* off of them.
The kama wielding woman whips one out towards Ravager, the weapon bounces off the bartop only adding to its momentum, making it bounce high and towards Rose's face.

The Waitress whose name tag reads Bernadette releases a 'WARGH' sound from her lips as she topples backwards, blood mist exploding from her chest and shoulder where the Glock's round tears through her, casings bouncing off the smooth tiled floor of the diner.

GETTIN' JIGGY WIT IT by Will Smith kicks on in sudden loudness from the Jukebox in the corner.

BROOMKBROOMK the double shotguns go off at Rose in rapid succession. The big man flips both at the barrels and they come up loaded gain, fast loaders, specially made. Only takes a flick of the wrist.

At the sounds of gunshot even over the sudden loudness of the jukebox screams can be heard from the bathroom where the woman and her child retreated.

Noncombatants in proximity

Operatives engaging target

But all that Ravager hears is…


Just as she drops in time for the face-shot, tinging it off the fans while she goes to her knees and nearly -melts- into the booth and sink beneath after her shots come forth to sent the waitress back.


Only a second.

And then the top of the table flips up and out towards the big man, followed up by the ride of Ravager riding it like a surfer, those blades burrowed through the surface of the table to try and bury them into the man.

The coat flares open, bearing the weapon-laden form of the woman, tac belt and flashes of scale maille. She was already hunting.

A kick off the back of the table and Ravger backflips leaving the weight to her foe as she lands and darts to go behind the bar. "STAY DOWN!!" A loud yell to the woman and child in the bathroom…

What? You too cute to dance, or you scared?
It ain't really that hard to do…

The big man goes down under the assault of blades and table. His shotguns going off through it, into it and around Ravager above. Its the final two shots though before it lays still.

The gibbering sounds coming from the bathroom say the woman is not going to argue with her.

A high leap has the woman with the kamas spinning in a whirl to bring both weapons down on Ravager while the other throws a fan low, the bladed object looking like a buzzsaw as it screams through the air towards the mercenary's legs.

Ravager is behind the bar, but not for too long when it comes to the attack of the other woman. The buzzsaw effect kicking up splinters of wood while Ravager backpedals to press her back against the wall, legs drawing up, splitting the coat to tuck away and against her chest.

Blades spark and scrape the tile behind the bar, leaving the two women in sparks, but just as they land the coat is used like a cloak to cover and between them a grenade *tink-tinks* to the ground…


Okay… A Batman move, but far more lethal… and the fact that Ravager is blasted through the cafe wall and the other? Well…

Pots and pans clatter while the platinum haired woman slowly rises, those swords flashing as they unsheathe once more.

…Just lose it..

The grenade rattles the entire structure and blows out the front window, the bartop and the female with the kamas. The male lets out a sound that is part animal wail and agony.
Screams and the buzzing ring of ears is all that can be heard in the wake of the grenade at such close proximity, not just the adversary in question but the two in the bathroom. Two different sounds says they're both alive but in what condition?

Through the smoke a drone descends and hovers knocking away the plume as it's fans keep it aloft. It doesn't quick scans Ravager and zooms out.

Where it was a man in tac armor now stands, skull stylized mask on an electronic chuckle escapes the recognizable mercenary. "That was… messy." Looking down at the struggling form of the man with the fans Contingency T makes a noise from deep inside of his throat and then there is the pounding sound of a hammer slapping backwards and a bullet being charged out of a barrel. Now Ravager has no more commando patrons to face off against.
"Are your ears still ringing or can you hear me? That was an audition of sorts." As if she can't hear him he starts to speak louder, almost yelling, "Nod your head if you can hear me!"
Shockingly the jukebox still stands and the song clicks over to AMAZED by Lonestar.

Ravager stands, with a pot on her head and comes eye to eye with 'T'.

I don't know how you do what you do…
I'm so in love with you…

Rose nods, those whips of razor strands slicing along pale features, outlining the sunken faced beneath cheekbones, all the while the bladed arms rise, one defensive, the other exchanging to take aim and..!

Click click..
Sometimes it make me,
Wanna blow my fucking head off.

The jukebox is fired upon around 'T' before she follows suit in a stagger that seems drunken while she grabs potato sacks and dumps the fresh produce from them.

Making her way towards the restroom she seeks to liberate the mother and child. "..Gotta… Get 'em…"

Slip-slip, *squelcheeeee* blood is slick when fresh..

// The world has gone officially insane…//

"Hey hey, where you going Princess Stabby Stab?" Taskmaster's gloved hand snaps out and grips her arm, yanking her away from the direction she is heading. He speaks loud, clear and points at a parked SUV. "We got only a little bit of time before the authorities show up. Those two in the bathroom are fine, unlike the rest of these mooks."
Another tug on emphasis before his grip releases and the Skully Merc is striding in a hurried pace towards the SUV.

"C'mon you messed up little bird, follow uncle Tony. I have candy and a first aid kit."

When 'T' grabs Ravager her body spins, almost like a tango, that carries her right along side him, but instead of a blade, in a flash; the barrel of a glock is near to his temple.

A shake, tremor, showing the desperation in the moment of the situation of the two in the restroom. Even her eyes flick there with his loudly spoken words that seem to ring in tandem with the thrum of her pulse in depth.

*Click* and the safety goes on, pistols pivoting back with the pivoting mechanism triggered along wrists to swap weapons or obfuscate them. But the coat is just as ragged as the cafe, now showing the burnt edges and tatters that lead to holsters along arms and down her back straddling her spine in flashes of metal braces.

"YA SURE? MOM?!" But to Rose, her voice is level, aside from when she calls to mother and child.

"That looks un-marked…" A mumble as 'T' hurries on and she is still regaining from slipping in blood and the feeling of a blast knocking her off her feet. Not what the country song tried to play…

… God she hates country…
A pinky finger wriggles against where one my suspect a ear to be, "Little louder… I didn't hear you." A glare, unseen past that mask and Taskmaster opens the passenger door for her, "it is unmarked. It's a government ride, I know, White Hats all the way." The vehicle was left running and they're now in motion, pulling on to the road. Whats in the disc player she no doubt wonders? Swing music of all things. It brings back memories the man behind the mask enjoys.
"So, we'll over look you shoving a gun to my head on account I just had some people try and shoot you up. Deal?" Maybe she can't hear him yet. That might be for the best. "Relax, we're noncom now, you can relax."

Target Ravager Secure

Ravager gets in, but those Glocks do not go away from her grip, as a matter of fact they rest crossed on thighs after she takes a seat, stroking over the triggers…

Ain't no big thing, just show 'er a l'el swing…

Rose stares at the skull masked man and the matched eyes flicker on one side, the bionic going pale white and the glow fading. "I r/EM/embe/R/ you and YOUr crap musical tastes. Snow and Chicago, a different time, a different world. Shoot me NOW."

With a /whump/ her back is against the seat of the SUV.

"That mother and child better have lived…" Hearing is leveling out obviously, right along with the narrowed gaze set upon 'T'.

"White Hats don't go noncom." Leaning back the weapons remain in her lap, but arms spread and splay across the back-rest of the SUV. A silent dare?

Oh boy there ain't no need to buy her a diamond ring..

"Sure they do, darlin'. It's called politics." The vehicle is now headed down the highway and Taskmaster pays no mind still to those firearms, if she intended on using them she would have by now. "They're fine. They survived the audition just like you." A gloved hand lifts up and pulls out a card, a LexCorp card handing it over, "You up for some big cash? Might be you could use something different to spruce up your life. I'm recruiting a team and you're on my list. You should be flattered my list is very small but very diverse."
He pauses in his sales pitch to ask a question, "How good are you with a bow? People love archers now-a-days."

"I don't trust politics. You should know better." A sidelong glance to him as she looks out the window and that eye flares to a faint glow…a pulse…and then nothing as his drawl goes on. Eyes close and her fingers curl but do not go near the weapons in her lap.

"They better have. I am tired of the lies," A breath in and she looks towards T and hold fast.

"My archery is par at best, but I can be great," A pause and her head tiltes, hands going back to the guns, the pivotal reload making them disappear from view to rest at the small of her bag with the large knives that rest horizontally along her lower back.

"What is this really called? Politics is bullshit."

"Confidence, I like that. We'll see though won't we." Taskmaster steers them off the highway on to a sideroad, still towards the city just not immediate route. "I agree politics is bullshit but it also pays the bills. What is it called? You ain't seen the commercials have you?" A grin, unseen but it is there and it creeps up in his dark eyes and through his voice, "The Thunderbolts. We're the next Big Damn Hero team."

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