2014.02.16 - And That's How Skull Got Two Cakes

Queens. A warehouse labeled only C26 sits quiet, safe and behind a gated fence with it's own security booths. The guard inside amusing himself with an IPOD occassionally busts out in random dance, that is the extent of activity outside the industrial era structure that houses the Baroness recent shipment of weapons tech, also their temporary 'hang' here in Metropolis. The interior looks like any other packaging and storage facility, normally crowded from one end to the other with workers it sits barren currently with a handful of Vipers milling about. It's set up in that typical architectural style of the work floor separated from the office by stairwells that lead to an upper level that has complete visibility of below. The head office with desk, a brown leather sofa and windows on all four sides to see outside is where the Taskmaster currently has himself posted, in full UDON regalia. Just because it looks sick. Across from him is a extremely muscular man in a rebreather mask wearing weighted boxing gloves the man's arms folded over his chest trying to look non-threatening but it's clear his is flexing. That would be Big Boa, a combat instructor of COBRA recently hired and very much at odds constantly with the T-man. The Baroness has already caught wind of their bickering several times over now. Thankfully they're professional enough to know when to shut up around outside company.
 
Behind the desk, seated and in front of a tablet as well as papers nails tap over the touch surface of the pad, drumming and tapping over the surface at first with a rhythm and a purpose. Slowly it faded off to an impatient drum-claw mixture that threatened to ruin the surface of the gadget, the file folders closed and shoved aside. 
 
Blame it on patience... One of the virtues the woman lacks, and from behind the frames of glasses that subarctic gaze of azure flashes towards the two men with a light roll and a rise of one hand to massage temples. She should be used to such things by now, years of working with men in combative situations... And here she invites more in, awaiting Red Skull - possibly more flexing. Die tablet, die...
When one sheds an extremely iconic villainous image, one has to find new ways to make a dramatic impression. Unfortunately, this often leads one to revisit a bunch of old cliches until something sticks. Such has been the case with Red Skull lately. Or rather, the teenager formerly known as Red Skull.
Cliche #1: Showing up to a meeting in a black stretch limo with fake diplomatic plates.
Cliche #2: Book-ending the limo with black Range Rovers filled with black tie-wearing hit men.
Cliche #3: Dressing up in Hugo Boss and adopting a Hitler Youth haircut.
As the teenage ginger steps out of his car, a small group of his hand-picked thugs accompanies him. He looks every bit the stereotypical corporate sleazebag. Only miniaturized. "Hans, wait with the car. Fritz, Krieger, Jim-Bob, you're with me. Krieger can carry the suitcase, my fingers hurt."
Cliche #4: Opening the door in as dramatic and noisy a fashion as possible.
The small group floods into the room, spearheaded by the young redheaded man. "Sorry to disappoint, I'm sure you were expecting someone much more handsome."
"Here comes the party." Taskmaster states as the coms updates him on Red Skull's arrival. It's not until the door opens and reveals the Hitler Youth Scout that Taskmaster looks surprised, "What the fuc... this a joke?" Glancing around he looks from one face to the next until staring at Red Skull. "Come out, Bard. Real funny... " It's hard to tell whether or not the mercenary is serious or joking.
Big Boa never having seen the Red Skull has no clue what to expect but releases a grunt after looking at the entourage then to the Baroness. "Maybe is not joke. Don't be a clown." Perhaps just being contrary to Taskmaster.
 
Timing seems in synch. The door opens just as Baroness rises from behind the desk and heads for the windows, the heeled and plated boots that rise to mid-thigh stabbing a caucophany over the flooring beneath, threat belied in every step and weave the woman takes like a serpent in a slithering stalk. Her head lowers and those eyes are like a frozen sun peering over a rimmed horizon while venomous lips peel up and away from teeth in the flash of a grin. 
 
Unexpected in appearance, but the show heralds a small fingertips to palm clap as she rounds from the office entry and heads for the stairs to greet their guest. 
 
"Guten tag Herr Skull." Pausing a few arms length from the man and his entourage the Vipers began their own recoil and watch to the gathered group and newcomers. "Looks aren't why we're here, if I was collecting models I stick with toys."
Johann has been growing accustomed to disbelief punctuated by vulgarities. Any annoyance at the loss of his ability to inspire dread is offset by rampant glee over his new-found lease on life. "Oh come now, my dear Baroness. You're at least a bit concerned with looks. My spies tell me you don't even need to wear glasses."
He nods in Krieger's direction, and the man with the suitcase steps forward. "But you are correct, this is not a mere social gathering, though I must admit that I'm a bit hurt that neither you nor anyone from your organization came to my birthday party..."
So it is Red Skull. Wild. "I didn't realize evil incarnate celebrated birthdays." Taskmaster murmurs quietly to those closest to him. The heckling aside he moves closer and leans against a rail. Despite the appearance it's never been his looks, physique or combat prowess that terrified Taskmaster about the man anyways, it's the mind. "I don't remember getting an invitation in the mail, personally."
 
"There's a lot I don't need, but a girl has her vices." Baroness states as she pushes the glasses up on the bridge of her nose to return them to a comfortable perch as she skips her gaze across Johann's new appearance as well as his entourage and back, Krieger getting a measured flick that lands on the suitcase and departs. 
 
"You brought us leftovers I presume?" The small malevolent smirk ticks one corner of her lips, as she knows better, though a small audible buzz makes the smirk fall to a frown, her fingertip touching over her ear, her voice coming to an annoyed octave. 
 
"Yes? No... That's not at -all- what I said needed collected..." The hiss in her tone became more and more evident as apologies came in a flurry immediately. 
 
Johann and Taskmaster catch the glance as one step is taken back and her jaw is set in a firm impression if rage, the smile doing no good in taking the edge of shark-like glare. "Perhaps toys would be better sometimes, they at least come with accessories you want. Please, stay, get comfortable. Taskmaster can show you around and discuss matters with you. I hope to return promptly." Her candor returns to business then, the appearance of the youth not seeming to affect her when it comes to Skull... It's all in what they bring to the table and the pawns they move. 
 
"I'll bring you back a cake." And with that she turns and heads for the back.
Gracious as always, the Skull seams to accept hasty departures as part of the business. Perhaps he's merely saving his rage for the eventuality that she does not, in fact, return with cake. When you're ancient and your name is synonymous with psychotic evil, you're allowed your eccentricities.
"Well, Taskmaster. It appears you've been volunteered to give me the nickel tour. I'll pass on that, it's not really my job to supervise now that your little organization has been set up on its own. I do, however, have one simple question: What can the Red Skull do to make your transition a bit smoother?"
"The tour? Oh yeah. Right." Taskmaster blinks and looks away from the departing Baroness towards the Red Skull, "I think she wanted to show off some toys is all. I know how you sorts are with your death rays and mass genocide weapons. Didja know that MKUltra project had positive results despite all the silly. Who woulda thunkit." His rambling ends and he considers the question, "More work is always good, I'll even give you a birthday discount and uh as far as the Boss Lady there maybe just stay off each others lawns. We got some sort of map for that?"
The mountain of a man Big Boa stomps by with another of those grunts, unimpressed with Taskmaster or the Red Skulls new looks. He isn't the brightest and seems to think power lies in strength alone. He is also bitter he's moderately low ranked in the organization.
"A map. Nein, this is not the forties... unfortunately. A more modern approach to both logistics and territory is required." Translation: he's not willing to see even a dime removed from his revenue stream. "The big picture has many complex, interconnected parts. All above your head, I'm afraid. However, if you're interested, I might have a contract that you'd be ideal for."
The Skull prepares to leave, his delivery completed. However, before he does so he moves closer to the man he used to be able to look straight in the eye. "Check your email in a few days."
"Over my head? Hey! Ah no, you're probably right." A grin, always a grin since his skull is built that way is direct towards Johann. "I'll be waiting, bells and such." Clearly the Taskmaster is looking forward to getting his hands dirty.
Category:Log