January 03, 2019:

Diana speaks with a contact of Deathstroke's about the man's safety and well being.


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Metropolis' reputation as the City of Tomorrow is well founded. It's glistening towers of steel and glass, the clean streets, the cheap public transportation, the low crime rate, all of it standing in testimony of the truth of it's reputation. The Doctors Without Borders headquarters building in the city is hardly the exeption. Concrete floors polished to a glass like shine, the front of the building done tastefully in etched glass with artful images of medical professionals helping the needy in locals far from first world shores. It's not a soaring tower structure or anything, just a three story building in a decent part of town with a reception desk inside that is happy to direct you to wherever it is you're supposed to go. There's a life to the place, which in any other city may not exsist for a nonprofit, but here there's a bustle as people come and go, doing the work the organization is renown for.

Maybe someone should pause for a second to take a look at the poor fella leaning against said reception desk. About six feet tall, he's dressed in dark slacks and a light turtle neck, a long camel hair coat hanging off of his shoulders to keep out the winter chill. His chocolate colored skin is mottled in places where Diana can see, which at the moment is mostly the back of his head and peeking out of the edge of the turtle neck, ugly black and purpleish discolorations that add a patch work quality to his skin. His hair was shaved recently, but has since become stubble and grown out, but not enough to hide the stables still in his scalp, holding closed a long cut that will clearly leave a scar snaking up over his skull. One leg is propped in the air at the knee, explaining the crutches that are currently propped against the reception desk next to him as he leans over it's surface slightly, seemingly flirting with the girl manning the phones there.

There's no way to /know/ if this is her supposed contact, the mysterious man on the phone, but he /is/ the only man expertly concealing a gun beneath his coat, and at knife too if Diana's eyes are any judge. Seems an odd kit to carry in this place.

Diana had come to the building to check on the status of the man who was brought here after the fight in the park. They'd subdued the creature and it was in a holding facility now where it was being properly detained to keep it from harming anyone else.

The tall Amazonian Princess is wandering the hallways on the pathway set for her by the front lobby receptionist, she's wearing a dark red leather jacket and her hair is tied back into a slick ponytail, black pants and a dark blue shirt complete her attire. She certainly stands out and gets a lot of glances from the other workers and visitors inside the hospital as she passes them by, but her eyes remain forward.

When she spies the man at the desk she takes note of him, she knows enough about people to know who is carrying a weapon and though she's not sure precisely what he has she has a pretty good idea of it.

As of right now, she approaches the receptionist desk and then looks between the man and the woman behind it.

Alex looks up at her approach and while he's beaming a set of perfect white teeth and two adorable dimples her way, there's a tension to his posture that bespeaks someone both used to being in bad spots and adept and pretending he's not, two distinct skill sets one doesn't generally get from a nice cushy life in the suburbs. "Ah! My date's here." he says, turning to shoot that same grin at the receptionist, "Business calls. I'll swing back by on my way out, we'll talk about a donation." then he's turning, "Ms. Prince." he says, his tone is conversational but there's a haunted look in his eyes, one of which still shows the late stages of having been healing from a bad injury. In fact, a solid look at the man, the way he moves, the work done on him, the leg in the high tech brace, and it's clear that sometime in the last month or so… someone beat the unholy hell out of this man. "Shall we take a walk?" he asks before shouldering his crutches and beginning to hobble swing his way off down another path, towards a sign that reads 'The Luthor Arborial Gardens' on a small plaque by the doorway.

As soon as they're far enough away not to be heard the man's smile vanishes and he's all business, "Wasn't sure you'd come. Thought you might bail." he says in a soft hushed voice slightly above a whisper.

While at the receptionist desk, Diana's blue stare goes from the woman occupying that staff position over to the man who speaks of his 'date' being here. She doesn't really react to that statement with any real emotional response. She just simply turns with him and detaches herself from the counter then walks along with him, noting the recent injuries and it all just seems further odd to her.

Her eyes look at the sign with the Luthor name on it, she's used to things like that while in Metropolis, then her eyes go over to him in a sidelong stare that leaves her expression just as calm and empty as it had been since she'd arrived, its a beautiful face but its still quite serene at the moment.

"'Bailing' has never been something commonly associated to how I conduct myself." She replies to him. "What would make you think that I would now come here today?" She then asks, her chin lowering some, her dark eyebrows doing the same as she looks toward him briefly again whilst they walk.

Alex begins to walk through the gardens, and with the glass ceiling and the glowing sun the place is happily warm, though not hot or sweltering thankfully, "Because your god of war sent a mythical beast to kill the deadliest man alive at a location I feel we both know would be more then a little likely to draw you attention." he lays out simply.

"But then maybe you're the only Greek mythological figure in all of history to not hold a grudge. I dunno. Honestly you're not one of the spandex crowd I've conserned myself with keeping current on, didn't seem like our paths were likely to cross given our very different social circles." he winces a bit as if something hurt, and begins to move towards an artful stone and wooden bench set to one side of the walkway.

The gardens certainly was a location Diana would enjoy this conversation more rather than the rest of the hospital, but the nature of it all was more than a little unsettling. "Perhaps that is because I do not wear 'spandex'." She replies to him then while hear arms fold together across her stomach and her eyes go back over to him after surveying the lay of these gardens dedicated to Luthor of all people.

"Why would Ares send a beast of that ilk to attack the 'deadliest man alive' and to draw my attention?" She has to inquire next. "Ares is the God of War, he is not the God of Pointless Attacks. If it is a message he sent, then the message was received that he has lost his edge, his touch, or however else one might like to describe it. Should he have words for me, he should come to me to speak them. Should he wish to fight?" She raises one solitary eyebrow then. "Well… he should do his own fighting for him as well."

Alex turns his head to look up at her, "Huh." he says after a long moment, "Deathstroke thinks highly of you… I'm less impressed. Or maybe I just don't see it. Frankly I'm on some industrial grade pain killers right now so the later is more likely then I want to admit." he lets out a hissing breath and leans back against the bench before taking in another breath, "Ares doesn't have to attack you if he can enlist the greatest killer since Achilles to do the work for him." he points out, "The beast was sent-" he pauses, then shoots Diana a look, "Oh." he says suddenly, as if something were dawning on him, "You don't know." he blinks, "Well that changes things considerably."

Diana unfolds her arms and she turns to face him then, no longer walking but standing here where the sun can shine down upon them. "Frankly, I look at you and I see a man who was recently battered and is now armed. This tells me that you are either afraid for your safety going forward, or that you are seeking some measure of payback for what, or whom, put your into that leg contraption." She glances down at his injured leg, then looks back up at his face.

"What then." She says to him next. "What is it that I 'do not know'?" She has to ask because he was stringing her along about it. "I have fought so many foes who were said to be above my level, yet here I am, still standing while they?" She softly shakes her head. "They cannot say the same."

Deathstroke chuckles softly at that, "I refused to sell bleeding edge technological weapons to a Russian mobster so he sent a small private army to my home to kill me, followed by a giant demon creature who's greatest joy in life is to duke it out with that Shazam idiot every other month." he shoots her a look, "So yeah. I'm afraid. I'm a polymath genius, I'm not stupid." he chucks up his coat enough to glance down at his watch, checking the time, "Okay, so the short version then…"

"This isn't about /you/." Alex says simply, staring up at the Amazon with a worn expression, "It's about Deathstroke and Ares and something that happened a long time ago. Far as I can tell, it's about Ares getting his hands on the greatest soldier ever produced and turning him into a weapon made to topple the world into war." he raises a hand and wobbles it side to side in the air, "So you know, kinda about geneocide, rampant massacres, probably nukes at some point, but really nothing at all to do with you… Except Deathstroke kinda was hoping you'd care anyway. I figured he'd have told you some of this, you have him stashed at your Embassy thing or whatever right?"

Diana draws in a quick breath after hearing these words, she looks away from the shorter man and then looks back at him. "He is being kept at a safe location." She responds, not telling him where. "And if Ares was going after the greatest soldier ever produced then he would be going after Steve Rogers." This is just a little side comment because this shorter man is mildly annoying to her, like a yappy dog.

"And you may believe that it is not about me, but after that creature was sent to where I was and where so many innocents were trying to enjoy a peaceful evening in a charity setting? I am now involved."

She pauses again and then nods once toward him. "So yes. 'Deathstroke' was right. I am involved now and I do care. Ares is the enemy of peace and justice, he is the opposite of everything that I fight to preserve. It is my duty to fight him and cease his cowardly attempts to influence violence on this planet, like a sick puppet master."

Alex sighs, "Yeah. People keep saying that. They're wrong. Rogers is a great man, and he's a damned fine soldier… but he's not the best. Look, the serum? It makes you what you are, ampliphied, everything about you. Rogers is a better man, hell, he might be the best man I've ever met… but he's not the best soldier. He got his dose and was in active theatre for three years, four at the outside. Slade lived and breathed war, in wars a lot less clear cut and with darker more brutal tactics might I add, for three /decades/ before they shot him full of that shit. Rogers is…" Alex turns and looks away, something like reverence in his eyes, "he's a champion, like in the old way of the word, not like a sports star or something. Champion, capital C. But Slade … he was a /soldier/. He overcame things…" Alex's eyes continue to not meet Diana's but the reverence is gone, now there's pain and fear in their place. After a long pause he looks back up, carefully schooling his features, trying to wipe evidence of what he was seeing in his mind from his face, "The creature wasn't sent to where you were. Like I said, not about /you/. It was sent after /him/, and he brought it to you because he thought you could help. Because he was already on his way to you, to seek… shit. I don't know. He'd prolly call it tactical insight of the target, but he was headed to you for help. He just brought that creature along. Look," Alex sits up a bit, wincing again, "I'm not conveying this well, usually I'm gregarious, witty, hell, I'm even /charming/ most of the time, but right now I'm more scared then I was then a Superman level demon god thing was trying to set my house on hellfire while beating up on all the Titans. Ares is hunting Deathstroke, he means to have him. If he manages to get him, if he can… I dunno, do something to him, get in his head…" he snaps his fingers, "Imagine what it would be like if Ares could control someone with Cap's body, Batman's mind, two lifetimes of active combat experience against beings /way/ more powerful then him, an unlimited arsenal of weapons, and none of their combined morals." he sets his jaw and stares at her hard, "Seriously. Imagine it. What damage could someone like that do?"

Diana is just studying this man, something about him just seems really offer to her. She's not sure if he's a dangerous to others or himself… or if its just that he 'is' having a bad day as it were, if he usually is a bit better in the charisma department than this or not.

Either way she doesn't comment on his comparisons between Cap and Deathstroke, those kinds of debates aren't really her cup of tea. What she does do is slowly nod her head two times.

"I am not afraid of Ares." She says then. "I have beaten him before, and if he pushes me to fight him again, I will beat him again. Stopping his plans are something that _I_ have been trained to do for a thousand years. Ares is my sworn enemy and I will constantly come at him to defeat his nefarious goals. You need not worry about that. Deathstroke is currently safe, and I will not let him fall into Ares' twisted hands."

Alex stares at her for a long moment, "I know you can handle Ares. I'm afraid /he/ can't." he says, and while he's been afraid in her presense and reverent and sharp tongued and a few other things besides, he's hasn't yet been sad. "Slade is … he's not a bad man, not really. Not good either, clearly, but he's not /bad/. He's just broken, somewhere deep where no one can reach. My Dad knew that, used to 'partner' with Slade, for /decades/. Really he was taking care him, a man incapable of being taken care of. Since Dad died he passed that charge on to me, and I gotta tell you, I don't know how he managed it all those years. My Dad was a smart guy, a soldier too, hard core, SAS, dyed in the wool badass, but kind and warm, and a /good/ man. He felt it was his duty to protect the world from the monster that's always lurking somewhere in Deathstroke's darkness. He used to tell me stories of when they were in the war together, things he'd seen Slade do, no powers, no serum, just a man. Acts of will and courage that were staggering, unbelievable frankly.

"Dad said that there was a war raging inside of him, between the heroic man of unshakable honor that Slade desperately wanted to be, and the savage avatar of death that his life had forged him into. Dad said that he was never sure what side of this war would eventually win, but that he was going to do everything he could to limit the collateral damage along the way." he pushes himself to his feet, "My Dad was killed when I was twenty-two and I've been doing his job ever since. I'm to hurt now, I can't…" he clenches a fist, "I need time to heal, to get right again, until then I can't be the voice in his ear, I can't be there to gently put my thumb on the scale to just /nudge/ him in the right direction. It's not fair Diana, and it's not right, but I don't have any other options." he shrugs appologetically, "I'm pawning this off on you, at least until we stop dealing with gods of war. If you need tech help, weapons, safe houses, resources of any kind," he offers her a smart phone, "my numbers inside. I can't be with him, but I will support you in any way I can. If you need muscle… you should seek out Caitlin Fairchild. She has some skin in the game too… Best of luck Princess. I'm worried you might need it." and he turns to begin hobbling off with a creek of crutches.

Throughout the man's impassioned words Diana just stares calmly at him and as he reaches a close on them she reaches her right hand out and she places it confidently on his left bicep. "I will see to it that he is protected and I am deeply sorry for your loss. Your father's work will not be left in ruin. We will make sure that Slade is not harmed by whatever scheme the god of war has coaxed up for him and once you are back on your feet? Well… I am sure you will continue to do the good work you have taken upon yourself to do." She lowers her hand then and she shows a faint smile as she starts to turn back the way she'd originally come from.

"Do not worry about this." Diana tells him as she starts to go. "Focus on healing your injuries. Make it your primary concern." Her hands then go into her leather jacket's side pockets and she starts to walk away.

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