Task Force WrektX (pt.2)

May 10, 2017:

Taskmaster and the Ladies of Skwad find themselves in a situation. NSFW! Adult Humor and Language Warning


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

The ghost upstairs moves, and with the obvious thundering pitter patter of hung-the-fuck-over falling steps and a clatter of some of Regans shit somewhere going… to the floor she is just grabbing up bits of fabric, it does not matter, if it squeezes and covers she is wearing it so she can make a bee-line…
Her boots!
Why the fuck does the crest of her tit hurt?

A smear of palm over forehead and a skirt is shimmied up over hips (thank GODS it is elasticated pleather, right?), the zipper at the back drawn up and with boots under one arm, bra clasped, her weapons holster clipped and strapped to arch low across the hips stretched in leather skirt, then up to wind around waist. Can't forget the shootystabby.

"Fucks sake…" Voices below make her pause, she already made a ruckous and so the nearest thing is gripped in one hand, the other resting at the small of her back where the rig of damage-quint is worn.

When she breaches the stairs she hears some of the words, her hands tightening around the gripped object, a cllatter comng behind her as a cord drags…

Taskmaster's words draw a huff from her lips and that oddly phallic Chii curlin iron is launched Taskmaster's way, Harley… gets a look of caution… To just be sure that she did not get just. as… throttled?

"We're so fucked…" A groan and a mug is gathered up (someone's empty!), Jameson filling it to the brim.

"Well you know what they say, Harley Quinn. The best way to get over someone," Regan bobs her hips up and down and then lifts, stabbing her fork of baklava towards Harley's mouth. "Is to get under someone else. AAAAAW." Plop. Fork. Dessert. Regan leaves the fork and turns around, pointing a finger with angry brows over a bruised face to Taskmaster. An idle threat, if anything, she glares. "Three, maybe four more jokes about how bad I look right now and you'll wake up in the tank of a porta-potty while I vanity-binge on your credit c-"

Regan blinks as Rose suddenly appears and a curling iron is flying their way. Slow and hung over, all she can do is blink towards Rose, then close her eyes and pray that she doesn't get hit.


*PHAT* The curling iron thrown by Rose is snapped from the air before it strikes Taskmaster in the noggin. HIs eyes still on Regan, "Watch it with the threats, sweetcheeks. You just heard me talking about burying one of our own and you go and toss some vile at me?" A half-threat to counter a threat, "But don't worry, I like your looks just fine. So does Rose from the sounds of it." The iron is set on the end table and the skullmask turns towards Rose, somehow it looks like its grinning even bigger than it usually does.

"Good morning, baby Deathstroke."

Have I told… you latey… That ..
"Hate your face when it grns like that." Rose muttered into her (claimed) mug, downing the rest of the Jameson to 'Hair of the Dog'.

A glare is offered to Taskmaster while he holds the very ripple effected end of the curling iron. Anyone? Anyone?


"Might want to drop that." Now Rose cracks a grin and tips the mug to Regan even as Harley disappears out the door with a click of latch. Sore spots? A-plenty…


"Oh come on, like I'd tell you if I was gonna do it. I'd just DO it if I was gonna do it. That should mean something about my esteem for the Taskmaster." Regan mumbles with her eyes closed, flexing the fingers of her arm in the sling and rubbing at the bruising lording over one side of her hung-over face. Her palm collapses over her mouth, stifling a yawn, and when two fingers split over her eye and her lid flaps up, she ogles the curling iron that's been thrown. "Oh no, not my Chi." Regan reaches out to grabby-hands at the Chi, trying to retrieve it from Taskmaster like it's a fragile baby, one that needs to be saved before it breaks. "Guys, this is ceramic, these things break like you wouldn't believe."

Calming once more, Regan rakes her fingers through her hair and turns around, glancing between the two members of Task Force X with half-lidded eyes, her arm in a sling, and her wrinkled skirt-and-top combination she retrieved from her floor. Not her finest hour.

"Anyone wanna order breakfast delivery?" Regan suddenly asks, craving grease to fight the hangover. "I, like, am seriously considering putting you all on speakerphone and laying down in the shower while we wait."

June finds herself /not/ bumping into Harley Quinn by sheer dumb luck, as one is leaving while the other is arriving. She's really not sure this is the best of ideas, but there were a lot of words about learning to cooperate and work together with her teammates. So, somewhat reluctantly, she knocks at the door.

Harley's depature was quiet. Taskmaster figures maybe she had to go lament some more about Joker out of earshot, he is kind of thankful about that. They went from sucking face and grossing out the team to her being tragedy girl again over the lunatic. It is a roller coaster and hes only had tickets a couple times. Over it. The door getting a knock has Taskmaster's gun snapping up again. "I appreciate the professional curtesy. Also, your house is too damn active. Slowly open the door and make sure its not an asshole with a laser on his crotch or another jerk with a laser on his forehead. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with villains anymore?" Rose gets a look, a small once over when Regan isn't blocking the view. "You two.. peas in a pod, man."

Rose is already holding mug in one hand and opening the fridge. "Soy Milk?? Are you kidding me? You eat meat, eat it all then." The carton is lifted in a pinch between index and thumb, staring with a shift of her only visible eye to Task… Regan…
The door…

Poor June is greeted with a peer to not just Taskmasters weapon, but the draw of Rose's own, that milk soi-ling the floor as it hits and splatters at bare feet… "Shocking. I had to hunt this address down, as well as the alias she has it under. I need your links." Rose states to Taskmaster as June is recognized and the safety is slowly thumbed into place.

"I'll order. It's going to be spicy, just saying. Give me levels and grades, not what you want."

"My house is too damn active says the guy who might have led lazer-dick and lazer-brain to my house. Oh-kay." Regan walks stiffly towards her door, leaving her precious curling iron on a table in the hallway while she walks. She turns off the hall light, a blessing for her hangover state, and looks over her shoulder to make little mew-mew-mew pats of her lips while Rose complains about her choice in milk. "Milkmilk makes you fat and it's bikini season. Besides, I didn't-"

"My house is too damn active says the guy who might have led lazer-dick and lazer-brain to my house. Oh-kay." Regan walks stiffly towards her door, leaving her precious curling iron on a table in the hallway while she walks. She turns off the hall light, a blessing for her hangover state, and looks over her shoulder to make little mew-mew-mew pats of her lips while Rose complains about her choice in milk. "Milkmilk makes you fat and it's bikini season. My ass thanks me for it. I eat what I want, when I want, and I prefer meat that doesn't-"

The door opens and Regan blinks her blue eyes at June, half of her face so bruised and lips puffy along half of her mouth. The door is slowly opened the rest of the way, and with her one good arm, Regan motions for June to step in and join them. "-complain about my soy milk."

Regan closes the door behind June then points to her own bruised face, horrible hair, and dehydrated, hung over lids. She knows. She knows.

"Medium spice, low grade?" Regan asks, shuffling in with an arm that presents June to the room. "Welcome to Case de Black Ops. Could one of you guys pass the soy…" The stream of off-white milk flows across the hardwood flooring. Regan's eyes narrow and her face flattens, looking from Rose to Taskmaster.

Mild-spiced hatred.

June looks over, and does a massive doubletake. First at Regan, then to the weapons. "Good god, you look horrible." She comments to the hostess of the moment. "Errr…hello again, everyone?" She moves inside, and looks about, trying to find a place to sit that isn't polluted by spilled milk.

Rose has no patch, no eye, but that is the reason bangs sweep and hang in spiires over the empty socket lined in scars from removal to implant trauma. Long gone, nerves deadened… In only that secular area.

Opposing eye is still narrowed upon June, but lightening as she grabs a towel and drops it to the floor, using already soiled toes to mop up the mess. "Tofu?" A rise and waffle of her hand before it offers a wave towards June, the witch familiar from the coffee meet and cafeteria. All brief, but her name and reason is known.

"He knows some very adventurous people," A thumb-jerk towards Task as cell phone is plucked from the holster of her bra (Portable purse!) and the nearest South-Indian restaurant is dialed. "Codpiece made me ponder life for //weeks!" A shake of finger and the sopping towels are dropped into the sink, carton disposed of.

Rose had tried to Maybelline her own damage, but she also has a factor that has put her one week in healing - ahead of Regan. Instead of a stormhue of bruises, hers looks like babypuke yellow. Appealing to a woman red-eye away from albino.

"This is why we aren't supposed to cross Satan, herself…" A glance to Taskmaster and then a shift and the phone is given a flurry of words, another language entirely, at least where the menu is concerned.

Seeing June doesn't encourage Taskmaster to lower his gun evenif Regan and Rose are carrying on now about spicy food. No. The skullclad merc looks June up and down, "Waller didn't send you here to kill us did she? I mean,I know I was out playing 'old school' earlier today but I only slapped around some D-List superdouches."
The gun remains trained and following June Moone. Likely he wont drop it until shes given him some reason to. He is paranoid today and forgood reason, thats a story for another time though.

"I know, I know. I'll look better tomorrow." Regan sighs through her vanity, turning her bruised face away from June on her stroll back to the kitchen. The Chi curling iron is left in the hallway, and with a slight limp and a roll of her lower jaw that belies an aching mouth, Regan guides June to the destroyed span of her apartment, complete with overturned chairs and couch cushions thrown asunder. A party-bomb hit the place. "Tofu would make my day. Rice. All the rice."

And it is with her tiny limp that Regan makes her way to stand beside Rose, leaning over the food preparation counter before her like half of a bed, to sprawl against the cool granite. "We got hit by a Wall…er. June, never overestimate the bitch's capacity for spite." A beat. "Unless Tasky's right and you're here to kill us then, fuck, please let me shower and put some makeup on first."

June looks over, expression showing she's more than a little troubled by having a gun trained on her. "/Waller/ did this to the two of you?" She slowly finds a chair, and moves to sit as she replies to Taskmaster. "And, honestly, if she was going to kill you? /I/ wouldn't be the one she'd send. But you probably do want to put the gun somewhere else…she gets agitated if she thinks she's being threatened."

From anyone else it might sound a little weird. Given June's…situation…it likely makes more sense.

"I just came by because I'm supposed to "learn to work with my teammates." If I'm intruding, I can certainly give you some space. Annoying hardened killers isn't exactly on my list of top things to do." She doesn't say anything to Rose, not wanting to mess up her order, but it's clear the momentary look at the other woman's eye-socket would have put her off any dinner requests anyway.

Regan's presence near, has Rose tilting towards the woman, but to offer a battered pillar as the Gucc-iagio looks like she is about to drop and take her down with, but the flow of 'Dosa, Usupi, —attu, Paneer…' is placed in her order of a relatively broad order that moved from breakfast to lunch as well. "And Gulab Jamun… Two Dozen. The Rose Water better be hot…" Cold and it isn't the same.

The exchange between Task and June has the single gaze-cast. The Gun. The Witch.
"I'd go primp, if I was you." Rose states as she refills Jameson into the mug, but this time it has 50/50 coffee to liquor ratio. Time to wake the fuck up.

"I do not buy that you truly doubt the reality of it." A slow assessment towards June as the velcro of Regan's cast is *ripped* to slowly lower her lame arm from the slinging.

"T," A moment, an exchange of glance while he does not lower his weapon. ""Baby-Deathstroke" knows all about this game. She is not who you need to waste a bullet on." A glare, but one of knowing to Taskmaster and another bottle is lofted.

Expensive? Shit if she knows?

"She? Right. The spooky other you." Taskmaster can respect that. The gun is reholstered rather quickly. To say he finds June Moone on the side of terrifying is an understatement. That is one thing he believes he could not fight and hes tangled with all the big dogs and lived to brag about it. He is more willing to face the Justice League again than tangle with Enchantress.
"Rose, you throw another thing at me and I am going to break your kneecap." Taskmaster's eyes behind the mask slit. "I had a dude shooting lasers out of his jock at me all morning and I didn't even finish punching people, my quota is still open."

Aheming loudly he motions for June to sit just about anywhere, "Need anything? Also if you tell me a cool way to keep you calm enough we never have to see your shoulder monkey uh demon again? I'll be happy to accomadate."

"Did someone just say they would willingly eat tofu? Why am I here again?" Right, running away from angry Dlisters.

"Honestly, I'm just happy someone other myself and Ravager uses the door." Regan nuzzles her bruised face against the cold rock of her countertop, taking what chill she can from it before her skin heats it up. It's like a waist-height tile floor, one of the better hangover remedies, ever. "And it's okay that you stopped by, June. Place is all torn up. We're always paranoid, just like you." Regan lets out a slow breath as her arm is set free from the sling. Blessed.

Regan tugs her chin against the counter, pointing it towards June and Taskmaster. Her tired eyes stare as the gun is put away, and something in the aching woman seems relieved by it.

"Tofu is delicious and healthy, and we're all in the same unwanted situation, which makes us kind-of allies. Might as well get some Indian food out of it." Regan pushes up from the island with a pop somewhere in her spine. Eyes lifting from the center of the room to Rose, Regan pulls her blonde hair over the bruised half of her face and rounds Rose's side to start on a path towards her stairs.

"I'm going to take a shower, you guys." Regan announces to the others, leaning over to pick up a bikini top and her cell phone on the way. The stairs crunch under her feet as she ascends. "Coffee's in the carafe, June. Fridge is free."

Moments later, the bathroom door closes upstairs.

The tap is turned on.

It drowns out the coughing sounds.

"There's nothing I think Waller /wouldn't/ do." June admits to Rose, as she tucks some stray hair back. "But if nothing else, she's usually eminently practical. Physically beating you means you're less effective on missions." Of course, June's not actually a convict; she comes at the Squad through another direction.

That said, with Regan's offer, she'll stand again to head for the carafe. ""The witch" is a safe name. It's what Waller calls her. I think even she's unnerved to say what might call her out. She…scrabbles at the inside of my head sometimes. As long as I can stay more or less relaxed, it's less a risk." She pours the coffee, and only then does it seem to dawn on her.

"Lasers out of his jock?"

"If I end my days getting blasted by a loaded banana-hammoc, make sure it gets put in the papers. Valiance and Heroism is over-rated." Bitter, much? Very. "Pictures.." But all jesting aside her gaze slides from Taskmaster to June, Regan's look as she departs after peeling herself from the marble counter is enough, taking the casting and folding it to rest beside her as she takes a seat beside Taskmaster, across from June, but her toe hooks into a stool and slides it to their side, not opposing while June gets her carafe.

"Necessarily…" Ravager and Regan are both still useful, even physically crippled. Regan is not mentally broken, but opposing, Rose's arms are not in a sling, and she has a factor that bolsters her.

June's uptake after the fact though makes Rose smile, genuinely.

… Now to assess Task and June…

"Maybe she doesn't need these two for a bit. I don't honestly know the story behind it other than they got hosed." An uplift in his voice in there, Taskmaster plucks at the couch, glove rubbing over a spot. "Shes usually a creature with method and reason but shes also a psychopath. Maybe one of you just really pissed her off."

"Is /she/ okay with being called the Witch? Beats calling her her but… " Better safe than sorry.

"Codpiece. His jock yeah, this dimwit has a laser blaster of supertech variety attached to his lap. Does hipthrusts to fire at you. Most ridiculous thing you'll ever see but hes oddly pretty destructive." Taskmaster explains, Rose is surprisingly demure and relaxed compared to Regan who seemed on the side of anxiety stricken but then again, her apartment just got treated like a dorm room by questionables.

"That sounds completely insane." June replies at the details of the Super-Codpiece (TM). "And as for what she's okay with? Honestly, I'd be perfectly happy if she were never okay. SHE wants to be called what I call to bring her out. But that tends to bring her closer to the surface, and that is just never a good idea." June sighs deeply, and takes a sip of her coffee. "Waller isn't going to let go her grip on her, though. She's an ace in the hole for her."
Returning from outside after a sudden craving for a gyro sent her out to buy a few for the gang, Harley chirps with surprise as she climbs in through the window upon seeing June. "Moonbeam! Wow! Looks like this party really is starting." She then makes a face at Taskmaster. "You know, calling her a psychopath is an insult to those of us other psychopaths you send time with."

She flops onto the couch, taking one of the many gyros out of the bag. "Help yerselves. I got plenty."

"So we don't talk about her at all and forget she exists. I can do this." Taskmaster says, he can abide by that. Easy enough. "Yeah, Satan has you where she wants you. Where she wants all of us. Doing the dirty work and staying out of the publics vision."

Harley's return has Taskmaster's hand snapping up, fortunately shes colorful, loud and its easy to tell its her. "Yes, we're bursting at the seams. No one seen you come in through the window right?" Asks the six foot two skeletor in a bright white cape who came through the same entrance. Harley's couch placement puts her next to him, since hes already on that same couch.

June looks over as Harley comes in a window. "Speaking of completely insane…" she comments, as she looks over at her. "Thank you for bringing the food, though." She's not on the couch, but a separate chair. She will, however, stand and move over to get a gyro.

"More or less." She agrees with Taskmaster. "And honestly, if I start getting too twitchy about it…and you'll probably know…if you can knock me out without me being aware of it, it might be the safest course. If she sees you trying, she'll come out and stop it."

Giggling as she unwraps her food and nibbles at it. "I came the back way so people wouldn't see me. Elevator up to the roof and then dropped down from there. I have made it my mission to never use the door." She turns on the couch to lay her legs on Taskmaster's lap, seeming to have no concept of personal space.

"And thank you, Moonie, for noticing. I work hard to cultivate this level of crazy so it's nice ta have it recognized after all that hard work."

"I tend not to make it a gig in punching pretty ladies out but you're on, Doctor Moone" Task assures her. "It's okay Harl, we're safe here I think. For the most part. I mean, worst case scenario someone shows up and blows all of Regan's ritsy crap up." He doesn't grab anything to eat. He isn't exactly the hungry sort at the moment. "We should all start talking about some contigency plans just incase Satan wants to screw us over. You know, watch eachothers shapely backsides. That kinda thing."
Casually a hand drapes over one of them dropped legs. No overt fondling just resting there.

"We're safe." June repeats with conviction. "Trust me, if I'm around at least there's not so much to worry about /except/ me." She says, dryly. "And that's not a bad plan. Honestly, if you could get ahold of some strong sedatives for me, Harley, that'd be greatly appreciated."

June takes a bite of the gyro. A thought appears to come to mind, and she chews slowly, swallows, then asks "There's nothing /added/ to these, right?" Always good to check.

Harley takes a deep breath and mopes a little at the mention of contingency plan. "She figured out threatenin' ta kill me wouldn't work. So… she implanted the bomb in my babies instead. And she wants me ta make friends with you assholes. No offense, Moonie, yer sweet. I meant the rest of them. Waller knows that my friends are my weakness. What's worse is she used my own psychoanalysis of myself for my thesis as the base for what they have in their file on me. That's just rude!"

At the mention of a strong sedative, Harley smiles oh so sweetly and bats her eyes. "Why Doctah! If I didn't know any bettah, I'd say you was flirtin' with me!" She takes a bite of the gyro and then waves a hand. "Oh, I ain't drugged the food. This time."

"There are reasons I don't eat what any of you provide." Taskmaster grunts and picks up Harley's leg only to drop it again. "So an archaeologist, huh? Gotta admit this is a lot more exciting right? Not just scraping at rocks all day and cleaning sand out of your panties."

Task considers, "Your babies? She managed to get bombs in your shaggy vicious beasts?"

June makes a face at hearing Harley's pets have gotten trigger bombs. "Ahh, our employer. Such a lovely woman." Still dry as dust, her tone. She chuckles at Harley's response. "Now, now, Harley. The last thing I want to do is get involved in your romantic life." Nothing good lies that way.

She nods to Task's question. "I think I'd rather be scraping at rocks…or even cleaning sand out of my nethers…compared to being host to a genuine evil goddess type."

Harley watches with some amusement as Taskmaster lifts her leg and then lets go. She holds it there for a moment, wondering what he wants to do with her leg before she just lets it settle back down into his lap.

"Yep. She figured out that the one in my head wasn't a deterant. I'm too crazy. I'll just go and get myself killed and then whoops! I'm dead. But my boys?" She pouts again. "What did my babies ever do ta her?" Apparently, she needs a list.

"I ain't gonna argue with ya, honey. Being one of my bed buddies usually means a life like an Airborne Ranger. Right Tasky?"

// I am tired of seeing pretty people everywhere,
I am not a model…
Middle fingers in the air!//

Rose is settled upon the edgeof the couch, riding the arm-rest like a horse, save the fact one leg is crooked over the cushion that Harley claims to close the space between Rose and 'Uncle Tasky'.

But June is offered an assessing gaze, but from one eye, as the other is veiled by platinum, but if a closer look is had…
It is barren and scarred. "So…"

A roll of tongue comes behind the top row of teeth as hands plant upon the arm rest of the cuch and she rocks forward to close a gap between self and the Witch. "You are what is supposed to keep us contained?" But the smile that curls Rose's lips, a test even without lifting a hand.

"You got some tzat….seekeee.." A rub along lower lip in emphasis as the exchange between Task and Harley is met with a smirk.

"You testing for a jiggle, or perfect form? She dances awesome." A reassurance fail, but the mention of the 'Babies' beig nano-bombed has lips remaining parted…
… Nothing to say as it is best blocked out.
"No perks comes with the whole… " Taskmaster waves a circle in the air with his hands at Enchantress like he is mime bubbling her. "Shes got great fashion sense. I mean, wild demon you is kinda hot. Thats something right?" Pushing his shoulders back in to the couch it groans under his armored bulk, "Yep. And some of us still struggle with a conscience, I can only imagine what it does to some one so… normal." He says the word with an almost distaste to it.
"Contained? Rose, I think shes the big red button Satan pulls when shit gets out of control or she is done wasting her time on something. That makes Doctor Moone here incredibly dangerous but also, very very valuable to certain person and or parties." Scheming already Taskmaster leans forward, the grin being oultined by shadow of the room.

"What he said." June scoots back, unnerved by Rose. "/I'm/ an archaeologist. Plain and simple. I'm not a mercenary, I'm not a killer, and I would be radically outclassed by anyone in this room. She keeps the Witch on a short leash, because she knows she can use her to do almost anything."

She looks at her gyro, but somehow her appetite sems to be fading. Either that, or it's both Rose and Tasky leaning forward. "Maybe I should get going. It's getting a touch late." Or she's getting a touch nervous.
Harley smiles up at Rose, resting her head on her thigh. "I think ya dance pretty nice yerself, sweets." She is enjoying this time with the others like her but she can see that June is not so much with the having of a good time. A touch of sadness washes over her features, concern and even… tenderness. She sits up and puts her donair on the table and rises. When she speaks, her voice is devoid of it's typical ear-splitting twang.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to. I know we can be intimidating. You feel like you've been dropped into a situation that you are not prepared for." As she talks, Harley moves over to try and give June a comforting hug. "I can't speak for the other two but, I have your back. Not *hers*. Yours. You ever feel a need to talk, you just say the word."

"That Big Red Button, is all of us," A pause by Rose as her phone chimes and the door crascendos in tandem.

A launch from the arm-rest like a gymnast with hands planted ween thighs and she moves to the door, fingers pulling that skirt into place from the ride of skin-to-skin.

I used to drink whiskey,
I'm an alcoholic… Middle fingers in the air!
Stagger, step-step and a bundle of bills is pulled from 'Poppin's bra and the door is flung open, but on the other side, the Glock has magically been drawn and is pointed through the wood at the delivery driver's temple…

.. All he sees is a blonde, leather skirt, bra… "…uh…fud.." And the bag is held out like it is Halloween and he wants candy.

"Yep." The bag is grabbed and a fold of cash is held his way as the muzzle of a large semi-auto closes the door, the peep hole an opening down a barrel.

Rose is oblivious as she already starts opening the bag before the Indian food joins the Gyro's and leaves them fed for…. 2 days… MAX.

The shift from June has Rose cocking her head, a gesture that reveals the palette of scarred facade, but no 'V' for Vendetta

"You are selling yourself short. That's what Satan counts on. So…Doc… I will trade you Indian food for some input on how to not kill you if she tries anything."

Ass claims a high backed bar stool and Rose is digging in as if it is an open buffet and they are not talking death and counter-measures. A pat to a seat beside her for June. "We're all dead here. Let's plan how -not- to be, hm? I have a BANGING good few nights of revelation, let's not kill it, hm?" A lift of brows and corners of lips as Naan is laid out and the rest is slowly unpacked.

I'll just keep throwing middel fingers in the air!
Taskmaster goes quiet mulling over his own words and thoughts, "Have you ever considered if you die maybe that would just free the demon witch? Or like some Ghostbusters crap she would jump in to another person?" A tap of his fingertips again and he watches Rose dig in to her food then looks back at Harley and her chance of demeanor, she just went full Quinzel. He is heard shes not supposed to ever go full Quinzell but then maybe that was the Joker saying that.

"I'm a fan of not being dead." June replies, while giving Harley the hug she steps up for. "I worry about trying to make too many plans though. I /know/ she wants to make plans with you." She looks about at the three there. "She's been whispering in the back of my head the last ten minutes about it."

The full Quinzel. It happens, but it's fleeting. She can't keep it up for long. Not without Ivy nearby. And so it's no surprise that though she was compassionate and caring for a brief, it was just that. Brief. She starts to bubble over with glee then and gives June another hug, and when she speaks again, her over-the-top Bronx accent is back. "Well, ya'd have ta be really crazy not to care about whethah ya live or die, sweetheart. And if you are that crazy, Satan just puts bombs in yer pets. So it really sucks no matter what. So, come back and sit and have some food. No booze for you though, cause don't want Miss Firecracker inside ya ta bust out, and talk ta us. Help us and we'll try ta figure out how ta help you."

Naan is gathered, rice laid out, and even a Gulab (much akin to donut hole dripping in syrup -Rose Water-) is brought to lips, paused upon mid-melt as June speaks.


But even as Rose acts non-chalant, what comes to her mind and is about to be spoken has her pivoting in the stool to be sure she keeps a guard while Regan has her "moment" and can wash the tears away in privacy.
Interrupt it and Rose will put a 10" blade in the base of your skull, evident by the cock of hip as she commences poking through the food, the hilt brandished but not objectified like the veritable buffet of spiced dishes she splays a hand over in offering.

"Who is a fan? Dead is not free. We're dead already, worst sounds better.." The other half is partaken and she watches the other three with a small smile.

"And what is she whispering?" Voices??

Who knows those best?
No other than!?!

All the while, perhaps, the arsenals of the group can gather what the fuck is going on!?

"Oh I wasn't saying we kill you or nothing. I was just trying to encourage some selfish or possibly selflessness in you. You hate hosting the Witch but, better you than someone else? I mean, what if she was in the hands of say… me. I'd probably just let loose and we'd have a ball. Ya get me? My mouth music isn't always the easiest to jive to." Taskmasters jaw tips down, the rounded skull upper portion looking bigger at that direct viewpoint.

"Just do like the rest here." A finger flicks around in the air, "Drugs, sex, alcohol, rock and roll."

"I ain't dead. I just respect the Lady of Death. Shes an inspiration and I enjoy sending others to her." A fingertap on the skull while he responds to Rose. Doubtful many knew that Taskmaster's mask is an homage to /Dama de la Muerte/. "Whats your poison, Doctor? You a drinker or you smoke? I bet Regan has some weed somewhere around here. Anything to get you to loosen up a little. Don't worry, I don't think Satan cares if we show dirty."

June smiles at Harley, and releases the hug, moving to head over to where everyone is sitting. "She wants to try and cut a deal with you," she replies to Rose. "But you can't trust her. Not at all." She looks at Task, as she moves to actually sit. "I wouldn't try to put anyone in the same situation I'm in. I'm barely holding on. And something to drink sounds LOVELY."

…"Satan gives zero shits…" Rose murmurs as she delves into…
Fuck no pockets! Not Rose-Pants.

"Trust me. The amount of Mecaline from the Iced Earth concert in my blood likely would have gotten that stone-cold gargoyle high and happy for a week." A settle of eyes upon Harley and Rose smiles, a tilt of head and a nod in a further offering.

"Fucked up families and life is what I do, this…" A sweep of hand to the others as Rose rises. "I know better then anything else." A lick of fingertips between each syllable, then a rinse under the sink before she started helping them all to Regan's stash, top or bottom of shelves.

"But, is she Death?" A look then to task as bottle clasped between the forks of fingers are slammed upn the counter.


"Task. Pirating it with a coke addition, or going full steam?" history? Yep.
"So classy." Taskmaster grunts as Rose yells. "Always feel like I'm hanging out with the teenagers around you, Harley and Regan and I'm the creepy buyer." A grumble and he reclines back, "Just add some coke to it. Nothing fancy… we could still get ambushed by laser jock and his one-eyed boyfriend."

A laugh, a light one escapes Task as June says a drink would be lovely. "Good. I think thats the first spark of life I have witnessed in you. Progress."

Harley Quinn says, "Or mabybe a bit of booze after all. Sounds like the one inside ya don't mean no harm ta us if she wants ta make a deal. Then again, makin' deals with the devil in the pale moonlight is kinda my thing."

She sits herself down on the floor and grabs the rest of her gyro. She smiles over to Taskmaster with a grin he recognizes. She's got a plan. A plan that is likely going to get her hurt and really piss someone off. Which, to be fair is most of her plans.

"Need some help with that bottle there, Rosie?"

June can't help but smile a little "Trust me, I do know how to have fun. It's just a little hard to do that when you have to watch your literal dark side. But I'm good with anything alcoholic right now. If Waller doesn't want me drunk, she can bite me. She needs me around and I know it."

Since when?? Did a bottle of rum have a cork. The g=classy crap has her almost drawing her blade to sever nec-from-bottle until Harls offers and it is sashayed her way, bending to land the bottle tritely in the C/l/rowned Princess' lap. But as Rose rights she ignores the hike of skirt-hem and the wrinkle in times fabrication. A glass is placed between her and Task with barely a splash of Coke-a-Cola - Let's go old school here.

"Classy?" A perk of brow, tilt of head. "Yeah, okay."
The rest of her Jameson in a coffee mug is downed…
With pinky up!

"That gets you nowhere. I can hold my own doors." There is an evident change, but Rose couldn't care less, she woke up in a jail cell (long deerved) and with people her memory strains for, and her hand can grasp at least, so even June is backed by more broken figures then she knows, but melded together correctly??

Oh, screw this 10000+ piece puzzle! They fit, even if meant to Yin to the Yang.

"I hope you have your rabies shots." So as Harley and Task work on the high-priced bottle of Run, Rose pours a clear and thick liquid into June's glass.

They're having Aloo for breakfast. ((Potato))

"And look how well that worked out for you, dollface." Taskmaster quips at Harley. "Even the Sith had fun. You have to live a little." He adds to June, "Even if it means killing a lot." A finger crooks out and snares up the rum and coke, a sniff at it and then he produces a straw from somewhere, it goes in to the cup and the other side goes in to his mask. Yeah. No face for them. He's tricky like that.
Harley reaches down to the chain around her neck and pulls it up from under her overalls. Rings, watches, assorted knick knacks, and there it is! A corkscrew. Cause you never know. It's like a Harley version of a Swiss Army knife. She starts to twist the awl into the cork, looking to Rose with a grin. "keep stickin' your tush in my face and I'm gonna bite it, Rosita."

With a loud POP! the cork is freed and rum is added to Tasks glass of Coke. "Yeah, yeah. I know. Didn't say it was smart. Just one of my many quirks." The straw? Yeah, that gets a snicker. She's not going to say nothing.

June smiles, as she looks to the glass Rose pours. "Salut." she offers, and will sniff once, experimentally, before taking a gulp of it. "Somehow I wouldn't think a famous supervillain was a Star Wars addict." Another gulp of the liquid goes down, and she looks over to Harley. "That outfit is skin tight…where do you KEEP that?"

Taskmaster's little jab at Harley has eyes darting between the two. She knows enough. "And the mask of Death seeks to end Tragedy and Comedy. Both made of their own free will." And maybe a bit of poking.

"Lay off me! I'm thirsty." And with June, she takes her shot, lifting glass base to ceiling while one has a… Okay if that straw bends, she's calling it a day!.
Harley's magic trick of gadgets is no surprise, but SwissHarley stll keeps attention as the bottle manages to open and the aged alcohol is sipped by one with the *splash* of cola.

"Just because he kills and wears," A fan of fingers over her face in a flick-flare of wrist like a dive (wink!) "Death, doesnot make him dead. Ride in a car with him someday. It's like speeding to Hell in a metal casket. At least the driver knows what he's doing."

Note the moment, she is praising Taskmaster subtly and pouring herself and June another, a tip of bottle in offering.

//In the shower the water had quiets moments ago, and no other sound came, nor did the door open. Regan passed out in the back room while the rest of her condo…

Left to the Suicide Squad (SKWAD), that very lettering inked down Rose's side to mingle with vines and blooms of her own.

"I would wreck you." To quote earlier, yes, Rse laid there, listening and had to shed off those fucks she gave.

From that glimpse of 'T-shirt' to Task her head tilts, second shot lofted towards June.

"Is it me, or are their smiles almost twinsies?" All. Teeth.

"My driving is not for the faint of heart." Taskmaster affirms. The straw pulls away from the grinning mask, "Salut" He adds in with June. "I'll need that entire bottle of coke before this night is through, I refuse to leave here until I get a line through the Unternet that I'm not being hunted still. These dipshits, i can take them but, they're all pewpew suckers and just on it tonight. You'd think they were motivated by something. Hate maybe? I'm a big mark for them. Rep gains.. ." Taskmaster prattles to himself a bit then goes quiet to look at each of the women in turn, "Whats on the agenda for bets or games? We got booze. We got time. We got money." He does at least, Regan does. He isn't sure about the rest. They can always bargain.
Harley is more then happy to pour some of the very classy rum to anyone that wants some, but she keeps the bottle in her hot little hand. Occasionally she tilts back and pours a little down her throat, but for the most part she sits and just enjoys the company of the others.

Rose teasing about the t-shirt and Task's mask, Harley shrugs a shhoulder. "What can I say? I like a guy who can smile." She then lightly kicks at Task's ankles. "Speakin' a which… learned anything new? Drivin', gamin', lovin'" She waggles her brows. Yeah, she went there. "I say we play strip poker. That way we all get to see yer pretty face," she tells Task before giggling and blowing him a kiss.

"I don't likely have /near/ the money any of you do." June points out. She smiles gratefully at Harley for the refill, though, and will down more of the alcohol. She's a bit of a lightweight; her eyes already going a little glazed. She nods to Rose too. "Nice ink." she tells the other woman.

It is going to take Rose more then a few shots to make that glaze coat her eyes, but it is that very look and lean from June that has her guiding her from the lofted seat to the love seat, as the couch is occupado, smiling betches!

Who do you thing you are??
Dreaming 'bout being a big star!

"Nono..!" Her phone buzzes and she opens the text to perk a brow and smirk. "Cards Against Humanity is in the…" Beat as she flips the hne and cants her head..
"What?" A look around after a blink and… Yep, more to drink, glasses ignored and the bottle is brought with herself and June.

"Or that!" No damn clue what a wardrobe is considered… Give it to her in SPADES!

"This is my face." Taskmaster states. He doesn't take his mask off for anyone and if he does he always makes sure to use shadows and light in his favor so they cannot see him. It's just a personal quirk of his. "You don't need money, June. We can bargain as well. Cards against Humanity is only good if you have people who can be shocked. This crowd… with the exception of June are a bunch of Deadites."

"Strip poker you are all severely outclassed and underdressed." He is in full 'classical' gear after all. "So I am in for that." Also he is a cardsharp. Its one of his powers gifts. Read people, read cards, shuffle like a magician. Easy.

"That just means you should take off some things to start, to even up with us." Rose answers Taskmaster…and then giggles. Oh, yeah. Lightweight. She'll take a pull from the bottle Rose brought. "I know he's hot." she says out of thin air.

Reaching into one of the many pockets of her overalls, Harley finds a deck of cards. Yes, they are Joker themed. But that's not her fault. They sell decks like this all over Gotham now. It's kind of twisted when you think about it. She unwraps the deck and starts to shuffle. "You know we're all doing this ta see ya naked, right?" she says with a grin over to Task. "I mean, why should I be the only one?" Yeah, she dropped that bomb as casual as you please, all the while smiling like the cat that ate the canary.

"Both boots." As this night is about to go for broke, and in length. The phone is nestled beneath the leather clad curve of hip and when June drops the bottle it is kidnapped from her grip for a long pull. Her fill taken for now to allow June her own freedom to sip and then be drawn into the Dahhk Side.

"Okay, Harls. I know you got the cards… Not those ones, let's not burn the whole place down," Beat. "Yet." A wink to Harls and then her eyes go from June, with her statement of hot to Task.

One hand lifts and fingers curl. "Boots, hotness."
"Gentleman? Never have I ever been accused of that." Taskmaster says, "Plus I play to win. Odds are in my favor, I like that." He challenges, "But as you wish." He starts taking off weapon harnsses, sheathes and belts only. Which he has multiple. "There. I gave you a small headstart."

A look at June as she giggles, "More progress. Perhaps she is warming up to us."
Slowly Taskmaster eases to the floor enough to join them, "Boots also? I just took off my tac gear." A grunt as Rose looks unyielding so he takes off his super stylish white Buccaneer style boots.

Harley looks to June with an approving nod. Okay, she drinks like a schoolgirl, but then again, so did Harley once upon a time. She continues to shuffle, laughing as June declares Taskmaster's hotness. "And you ain't even seen him naked yet." She shares more of the rum before taking another swallow. "Hey, Rosie. I say that Tasky here needs ta be in the special SKWAD club, don't you?" She nods her head with a smile, knowing that the tattoo equipment that the stole is somewhere in this apartment.

June goes silent at Taskmasters call-out, which causes a glare from Rose as cards are shuffled, dealt, and fanned out while a neutral (poker) face is put in place and the rounds go for hours, piles of cloth left, gathered, left, and shuffled like cards to finally leave Rose in one of thse buccaneer boots, planted heel upon table, bloodshot eyes drooping at cards and dashing to the phone pressed against the curve of ass and upon the cushon of couch… but what is wrapped around waist is not that leather skirt anymore…
Eventually she is going to wonder why the fuck she only has one boot on and someone elses garmets….

But instead, her hand is laid out in a fan as the deck is nearing its end.

"Whatever,." Grunt.

What is on her head?


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