Save The Upholstery

October 24, 2018:

Eddie needs an extraction. Owen is the only one she can call. What could go wrong?


From the alley to The Plaza. From the window to the wall.


NPCs: None.

Mentions: Danny Rand


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

'Text from For A Good Time Call' pops up on Owen's cellphone screen, but the first message is just a blank return. The little dots appear soon after it's checked, but they linger for a long time before another message appears. 'Need an extraction. Only option. Double your rate.'

A little map shows up, the other user having opted for the share my location feature. It's an alleyway in Gotham near the bridge behind a boarded up convenience store that has 'Closed for Demons' spray painted on the plywood covering the windows. Exhausted, Eddie crumples down next to a dumpster and waits.


The first blip on his phone causes Owen to frown and stare at his phone waiting. Why is she contacting him? At the second message Owen just starts to laugh. Not overly burdened with sympathy, he mutters, "Oh you must be fuuuuucked."

It takes him no time to get his gear and get moving, but, getting to Gotham takes time. It's nearly a half hour before he shows up, not in full blown Captain Boomerang gear, instead in black jeans and black leather jacket with a domino mask that obscures his face with fancy tech. He parks his beat up Jeep a block away and approaches from the rooftops, in true Gotham tradition.

Yes, it's likely that this is time sensitive but Owen takes the time to survey the scene from the roof before he makes his approach. He flips through settings on his mask to get a better scan of the area in things like infrared, etc.


Thirty minutes is a long time to wait, but Morales didn't really have a choice. She made it as far as she could, but in the meantime she's taken it upon herself to obscure her location by piling trash bags around her form. It's only by the benefit of his infrared that he catches her heat signature among the heap, the red and yellow read out showing her curled up in a ball as best she can with her head ducked down.

The reason for the obfuscation becomes apparent, when a voice echoes up from two blocks over, their words carried by a stiff fall wind that whistles up from the river.

"Expand the search. She couldn't have gotten far. Not with that amount of blood."


Owen breathes out when he realizes that Eddie is in fact in the 'empty' alley. He is about to approach when the voices reach his ears.


He jumps down to the alley below using the top of the dumpster to soften the fall and leaping out away. He's not exactly as graceful as any of the Bats, but he makes do. He grunts and makes his way over to the bags, "Hash? That you? Time t'go" He starts pulling bags off Eddie, glancing over his shoulder to the end of the alley hoping to get her out of there before anyone comes round.


Eddie manages to push one of the bags aside, but it takes considerable effort. The fact that her fingers are bare might lead to some explanation. The fact that they're bloody fills in the rest. "I thought if it took more than thirty minutes…it's free." The long sleeve that emerges belongs to a red satin evening gown, but at least the color lends itself to hiding the blood stains.

"No wait. That's pizza. Not life or death situations." The snark only serves to slightly temper the sound of pain in her voice as a silver high heel kicks out another bag, the straps encircling her ankle likely the only reason it wasn't shed in her escape.

"Give me a hand here, will you." Hashmark reaches for him so he can haul her the rest of the way out of the refuse.


"Noo. With those, it's you live or it's free. Cause it's super hard to get corpses to pay."
Owen cracks the joke even as he grimaces at the state that she's in. He looks over her outfit and says, "Really you didn't have to get all dressed up for me. I'm just going to make you strip naked to make sure it's not a trap once we're clear anyway. You know .. for safety reasons." Mentally counting down to how far away the voices sounded and how long it's taken him to get her up on her feet, Owen makes a flicking motion with his free hand and suddenly has a boomerang in it. His other hand is offered, a bit hesitantly to help her up. As usual he's wearing stretchy light black gloves with what look like black wires running over them.

"We gotta move."


Eddie takes the hand without hesitancy of her own. She doesn't have time to contemplate the fallout, but will just have to deal with it as it comes. No doubt those gloves have seen some things. Eyelashes flutter wildly as she tries to banish the images that are swarming together in contest to see which one bubbles up the most prominent, but between that and the garbage she's been hiding it, it's clear she's overloaded. "Three men followed me out." The rest of the bags fall away from her rising form, as soon as she's back on her feet she releases Mercer's hand and she flicks some organic item of questionable origin from her cheek. "I'm unarmed." Which adds to the pressing notion that they have to get out of here. She looks back in the direction she fled from before heading in the opposite, surprisingly not wobbling in her heels while she clamps a hand to her midsection in front while an opposite wound in her back continues to ooze.


"Yea double the normal fee and yer payin the cleanin' bill for my jeep."

Owen doesn't comment on the wounds or the fact that she's touching things without her usual gloves. He frowns and says "I have a gun in the rig. Nothing but boomerangs on me." By way of explaining why he's not offering her a piece. He lets her walk a few steps making sure that the alleyway isn't suddenly ablaze with gun fire before offering, "It's gonna be a hell of a lot quicker if I carry you."

He offers his arms out, one hand still holding a boomerang, but still able to carry her and hopefully have enough speed to zip to the car. Hopefully.


"Whatever." Morales agrees so quickly he probably could have pressed for triple.

They have little time to spare, but it's enough for Eddie to give him a dubious glance at the notion of being carried. The pause is brief before she just relents, slinging one arm around his neck and assisting as best she can in the long gown to be draped across his arms like the broken doll she currently is. Eyes close immediately against the incoming flood of being wrapped up by Owen and the blur of their travel to the Jeep. Behind them, the sound of a gun shot pinging of brick fills the alley.


Picking her up isn't much of a strain and Owen has plenty of speed to blur them to the jeep. He even has time to look over his shoulder and watch the first bullet come into the alley, not that it poses a threat to him when he's moving at speed.

At the jeep, he manages to get the door open and put her in with a wince. "Yer gonna bleed all over it…" Again Mr. Sensitivity. He grabs a towel out of the back and says "Wrap that around you, it'll help… my seats." Well technically it will also help with the not bleeding out as quickly too.

Getting in the driver seat and pulling away as quickly as he can without squeeling tires or drawing more attention Owen looks at her and asks, "You got a safe house? Anything nearby? I'm … " He winces as he runs through his very sparse list of resources in Gotham right now. "I've been in New York." It's the closest to an explanation for why his hometown isn't chalk full of places he could think to bring her.


Eddie slides into the passenger seat with a screw of pain on her features and grunt, not bothering with a seat belt because she's tucking the towel around her.

"I'm staying at the Plaza. Get me to my room and we'll consider the deal done." Then she gets busy tearing off the sleeve of her gown. She peels the satin off her arm, revealing the reason for her moniker: scores of neat horizontal scars march from her outer wrist up towards her bicep, all in varying degrees of aging. The piece of dress gets wadded up to her stomach, the pressure kept there as best she can.

"I'll need your jacket. Spring for Valet." Then she has the audacity to flip down the visor and check her reflection in the mirror there, wiping at a smudge of eyeliner and mascara beneath her eye from where it's watered.


"Deal. Just don't bleed out before you pay me."

Owen drives the streets easily, checking his mirrors for any sign of a tail. Once they have some distance he is sure to slow down and obey all traffic rules, no sense in getting pulled over just about now. His mask is pulled off and stowed.

"I want the jacket back after.." He has modifications he made to it.. fine boomerang holders sewed in to it. It's a legit thing.

Pulling up to the hotel, Owen makes somewhat dicey decision to use his speed to come around and get the jacket around Eddie and stuff the towel under the seat. A confused valet blinks as if he's seeing things before Owen turns to him and throws him the keys. "Try not to scratch it." Further confused the valet looks at the rusting, beat up jeep and the two figures retreating inside.


By now, Eddie is looking pale beneath the usual dusk of her skin, leaning on Owen heavily after he wraps the jacket around her. Thankfully with that little bit of cloaking over her bleeding form, she just looks like a date that's had a little too much to drink by the time they make it to the elevator and she croaks out the floor number. When the elevator opens and she tries to step out, her heel catches on the little gape and she stumbles against Owen, needing to cling to him with both fists before she ends up face down on the carpet. A gasp catches in her throat, sounding dangerously on the verge of a sob. "Last room on the right." The one closest to the stairwell, of course. And then things start to go black and fuzzy at the edges of her vision. Thankfully, her phone must be linked to the lock on the door, because it'll turn green when they near.


Owen easily goes along with the ruse, smiling and wobbling just enough himself to appear to be a part of a couple. He smiles charmingly at the right staff members, but once in the elevator he hisses, "Do you have a doctor? Any medical help I can call…"

Once out in the hall, he frowns and wraps an arm around her for real. He supports her if needed and makes his way down to the door. Thankfully it beeps and uses his knee to push it open.

"You still with me? Don't black out.. cause then I'd have to try to open the safe myself t'get paid and that's kind of a pain."


"Hey Speedy Gonzales." Eddie breathes away the pain and the blackness through her nose, causing her sentence to be paused in the middle. "Have I ever told you that if I had half a mind, I'd pin you down and do lurid things to you?" She's trying to keep her mind distracted with something else. Banter seems to help. The question becomes rhetorical as she continues. "No? Good, then that means I'm not delusional yet." She gives a little shake of laughter that ends in a long groan, waving a weak hand at the couch for her to be deposited on. The room isn't the penthouse or anything, but it is a suite with a seperate bedroom.

"I have a healer on call, yeah. Gimme a second to message them and I'll get you your money. What the hell is your rate anyways?"


"Yea, yea. Raincheck for when yer not bleeding all over me."

Owen laughs at the joke anyway, even if it's at his own expense. Though his reply ignores the punchline. He takes off the jacket and lays it down on the couch to maybe not have her bleed everywhere. He's an equal opportunity upholstery protector apparently.

He raises his eyebrows at her having a healer on call. He seems impressed, but also dissappears momentarily to show up with more towels. He nods at the wound and kneels next to her, "Now let's see how badly you screwed up here."

He doesn't really wait for permission before tearing at the dress and blotting away at the wound to get a look at it.

"I take it yer not going to tell me what happened even if I ask?"


Eddie leans heavily down into the couch, gritting her teeth together. So the cleaning of his jacket will have to be added to her tab as well. While he disappears into the bathroom to fetch some towels, she pulls her phone out of every woman's bag of holding: her cleavage. Morales thumbs it open and starts dictating a voice to text. In Japanese.

When Eddie glances up to from her phone, it's at the destruction of her dress. It's ruined anyways, what does she care?

Modesty isn't high on her list when she's bleeding everywhere.

Her side exposed, it's clear the wound is a through and through gun shot. "Why not? It's not like I was on a job, just bored." She looks down to him blotting at the wound until the weeping edges are exposed. "Crashed a party. Can you believe they left a perfectly good safe behind a painting in the office? How cliche." Her eyes are pinched shut now, because he's touching her.


Owen missed out on the cleavage storage of the phone, so that passes without comment. He looks at the wound and frowns and then roots around in the jacket to pull out a flask. He takes a drink first and then pours some on a hand towel which he uses to clean up the wound as best as he can.

"Seriously? Safe behind a painting is basically asking for it."


Eddie jumps back to the present as he touches the liquor soaked towel to her wound, "Jesus Fucking Christ, warn a bitch!" She hisses, her hand clamping down around his wrist but she doesn't shove him away. Breath heaving for a moment, it takes a second for the fear to slide out of her eyes and the tension to ease out of her grip. "Had a combo dial on it too." She mutters, distracting herself with the conversation. "So I had to take my gloves off. I was two numbers in, when they ruined my fun. Shot first, decided to bypass the questions altogether. Perfect waste of a matching bra and panty set."


To his credit Owen doesn't seem to notice her jumping or yelling at him, he just keeps going about his business of making sure to get the wound as clean as he can. He looks at her hand and says "I don't think you want to know where my hands have been.."

Mhmmm, combo dial safe. Owen smiles reminiscing about jobs past for a bit. "I have to admit, I do miss that.." Granted he would have used some sort of tech to bust the safe most likely but still a good safe cracking job under pressure is one of the best highs.

"Yea, well next time don't get shot before you call me and we can put that to good use."


Eddie shakes her head, like there is a fly buzzing around her ear that just won't let her be. Suddenly she lurches to the side for her phone, grabbing it up and tapping. "You never did answer my question about your rate. I'm assuming five grand will cover it and ensure your silence." She unplugs a little USB chip from the bottom and tries to press it into his hand. "Alright. Time to go, Slick. If you're seriously clean and you want to stay that way, you need to skip out of here. Only one way I'm getting your images out of my head."


"Sure." Owen waves a hand at the figure. If he hadn't just asked her to take on Rand as a client he might care more about negotiating, but 5k for a quick run to Gotham is fine by him.

He stands as she tells him it's time to go. There might be many reasons for that, but Owen highly doubts it is solely because of his newly minted non-villainous status. "Aw. That yer way of sayin yer still thinkin' bout me naked? You're sweet."

And then, he's not there. A second or two later the door swings shut with a click and Owen's throwing a few bills at a valet to retrieve his car.

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