May 18, 2017:

June comes to Rose's place to offer apology…

Easily forgiven.

Gotham Arms Apartments - Gotham - Rose's Place

A simple brownstone, six-storey, walk-up apartment building. It's a
little on the run-down side, but not actually bad. Rents are reasonable, at
least, and the super is as conscientious as he's paid to be (which is to say
adequately, but this ain't the Ritz).
There are six floors, and six apartments on each floor, with stairs
at either end of the corridors and fire escapes off small balconies.

((In RP))


NPCs: None.

Mentions: Taskmaster, Lady Mastermind, HArley Quinn, Amanda Waller


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

It's been a while since the witch got out and…well, to be honest, June isn't sure WHAT she did. But she feels like she might need to apologize. She knocks at the door to Rose's place. Rose's place? Regan's place? THE place.

This is Rose's place. Nowhere near Regan's level, in fact Regan would likely come here in an AIM outfit smothered in Sanitizer.

When June comes up, likely following the trail of Rose's angered departure from Regan's after their 'discussion' that ended in Rose leaving on her Tomahawk in her…. Well… Underwear. It was a biker version of a Victoria's angel…
Missing an eye and inked… covered in scars from slashed to entry/exit bullet wounds….

But when June approaches, Rose is on her way out, her door to her apartment held only slightly open, the body suit adorned one ridged in scaille maille, black and orange, the flare of a bionic eye peering from behind the fall of platinum strands.

Chn lofts, eyes stare…
"You need drugs, alcohol, guns with no serial number?
Because sweetie, if you're here… You're lost."

June pulls up short. She's got, of all things, a gift bag in her arms. She's dressed very, very unlike a member of the Suicide Squad…heels, a pencil skirt, a white blouse. "I…was coming hoping to find you. If you're…um…busy, I can just…leave this with you. I'm sure we can talk another time."

People in the hall of the Redd Hook apartment are obvious 'thugs', 'gang bangers', colors flashed, hand-shakes exchanged, but it all paused when June passes to Rose's door and is met by an obvious Mercenary, but she is known by them.
Their word pressed pause and stared.

'Ravager' stared back, and with a hook of arm around June's waist, she dips her head towards the bag, fingers peeling the edge down as if she would peer within while tango'ing her into the door of her apartment!

When the door closes, latches, and slings several locks into place automatically, it is apparent the devices are hi-tech…
Despite the run-down contents of the place.

"It can wait… You need to be careful." But the gift bag is eye(d), carefully. "Now I will have to produce drugs or weapons to explain and keep it on the Dee-EL.(DL-DownLow)." But Ravager smiles.

Rose moves to her nearly flattened and over-worn couch, perching upon the arm, patting a seat for June beside her. "You come baring gifts?" A tilt of head.

"Why, June?"

The bag has several smaller boxes. Wrapped. Complete with gift tissue and all that between. June, meanwhile, looks totally lost when she gets tangoed into the apartment. She seems puzzled. "You can't just have visitors? And…well, I don't really know what the witch did when she was out, but it's never pleasant to deal with her. And I got some of your clothes dirty, and I just figured it was…" She's babbling a little, and she stops herself. "Peace offering?"

"I can have whoever I want. But if I am not dealing with them in one form or another.. There's suspicion." Beat. "Welcome to Gotham, June."

A light bend forward and the gift bag is eye'd into.

The surroundings are sparse, plaster is cracked from walls, the faucets have coats of calcium deposit along the ridges of metal. The place seems barren, devoid of any feeling, but Ravagers press and peer, belies it all.

"You didn't have to…" A pause and Ravager draws in a breath, plucking a ox from the tissue-paper to hold it before her.

"…Apologize for who and what you are… You know that right?"

A loft in bow and she places the box between split thighs that straddle the arm of the couch.

"I don't have to like it…" A gesture to the apartment. "I don't have to buy it…"

Her hand falls.

"I won't apologize for it."
"Neither should you."

June shrugs. "I…don't have lots of friends. I never did. I'm more about digging up things in the field than being confident. And then the witch. And then Waller. I think…" She hesitates. "I think I might go quite mad if I don't have some kind of connection to someone. Or just…lose my grip one day, and never be able to claw back from her." The words are a glimpse to June's inner thoughts, that which she keeps more tightly locked up.

She quickly forces a faint smile. "Besides…best not to make people upset when they could kill you nine ways in ten seconds. There's two bras in there for you…same size and make as the ones from that night…sort of an apology. And a package of Lush bath bombs. And a brush." She offers awkwardly. "I didn't really know what to get."

In part… Ravager empathizes with June… In anther part…
Ravager, knows she made her own bed here…

The 'things' are looked over, and the smile on lips splits a patched mask, holding the bras aloft like prizes to be truly inspected! The bath bombs…
The brush is held also, the flat end of it cracked along upper-thigh before she rocks forward and comes face to face with June..

"It's not every day I meet a woman that can fit my bra-size!" A lift of leg and Ravager is dismounting the couch-arm, walking towards he kitchenette.

"I do not trust the water here, So… Whiskey…
Bottles clatter…
"Coffee? Water's boiled… safer…" A *sniff* and Ravager is peering over the eave of the counter-top at June.

"You underestimate yourself, Juney-witch. Even Satan-Herself does…" To coin Regan's name-calling of Waller.

"Effort is what counts." Ravager states lowly, slowly peeling away the half-mask and setting it aside to make June feel more cozy within her ramshackle domicile.

"Well, I was kind of /wearing/ yours when I woke up. So I sort of had to learn it. I don't think I filled it out as well as you do. But I'm not sure what happened to it after I took it off to get in the shower. Regan was there, and…well, she's got a way of making it hard to follow a train of thought. Especially with a hangover. And…um. I probably should stick with non-alcoholic things. Me getting drunk led to last time. Did…she do anything I should know about?"

"Yeah…" Rava—-Rose… breathes out in regards to thoughts around Regan, brows furrow and she is paused with two mugs upon the counter, waiting to be filled with hateverthefuck they want or… June orders.

"You fill things out fine, down to bras," A point of finger and June is under singular scrutiny.

"Its your own doubt… Girrrllll.." A roll of eyes and Rose is just making the order for June. Alcoholic coffee it is!

"You need a night out of the dirt and into sublime again." It is apparent whateve the with did, is forgiven - unrelated to the woman who sits on her couch.
"She did what most do who want out…." A pause and as water fills the small coffee pither to the 3 cup machine, Rose leans forward, forearm upon the counter.
"She played a gamble."

A pivot on booted heel, the scale maille sheen aglow in the tattered curtains cast of light upon her body-suit. "I just don't dabble in the arts of the mumbo-jumbo… So forgive me if I poke you… Her… A little…" A pinch of fingers… But Ravager's pokes are sword of hunting blade sized…

June takes the offered alcoholic coffee. "Something tells me I'm going to wake up drooling on your couch…" she says, taking a sip. "And thanks for the compliment. At least, I think." With that, she'll settle in for a night of…slightly awkward bonding.

"… and maybe wearing one of the two bras you got for me as an apology." A smirk and Rose sips from the coffee, her phone plucked from within tac belt that resides around hips, a coupe texts quickly sent..
Her job delayed.
A <^> sent… emoji style…

"Yeah… sorry, the bed lacks a boxsroing…ir a frame…" A loft of shoulder and the coffee is drained, mug refilled, but not with coffee.

"Don't apologize for what you cannot control… Just cry over it tomorrow…." Beat. "But not where anyone can see."

… That's what long showers are for.
Rose is pro!

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