2013.03.14 - Mountainside Conversation

It's late at night in Gotham, and Jocelyn had decided to double-back to throw any pursuers off her trail. Granted, after her run-in with Laura, she'd decided that, for now, somewhere night and mountainous would be suitable. The mountains would make for a good place to rest, especially when you could fly up to a nice spot about seven hundred feet up a mountainside and rest, which is what Jocelyn has decided to do. Everyone would assume she'd tried to get as far away as possible from New York, so she'd opted to instead be relatively close by for the night, and then head out for somewhere else early in the morning. She'd been sleeping in very short bursts of 15-20 minutes at most, because she didn't know what was going to show up, though she had a pretty good intuition for danger after living on the streets for years.
She's smart enough to have not built a fire, and instead is relying on her jacket to keep her warm, along with a little bit of drawn in thermal heat. It wasn't something she could always do well, but it at least made the air temperature around her a little more tolerable. She couldn't do it too much though, or risk disturbing something far more problematic, which would be some snow melt. Regardless, at the moment, the teenager was awake and watching things quietly, figuring out her next course of action, and eating a granola bar.
Just how does one track a peculiar mutant (aren't they all...) through a city as large as all of New York in the failing light? Having a strong information network is a great start. Domino's got her earcom in place, linked into a phone which is spending a good amount of time being put to use as she shakes down various contacts. Between high tech solutions, low-tech skill and a stupidly accurate sense of luck, it shouldn't be all that difficult to find a six and a half foot teenaged girl.
Except that it is.
The trail starts to feel like it's growing cold on the outskirts of Gotham, though this albino does try to be prepared. Infrared goggles let her see right through the shadows of the forest, tracking any source of heat. It's almost like cheating, but she's never been opposed to such tactics. "Now, who would be sitting out here all alone at this ungodly hour..."
With the large, red, bugeye-like shields masking her blue eyes, Domino heads into the forest. This hunt may not be over just yet.
The hike has been a long one, but worth it. Slade's been working without end for so long he'd started to get lost in the mask and it's desires, he needed some time to unwind. So he went and climbed a few unclimbable mountains with nothing more then a 60 lbs pack of gear and his hands. He doesn't feel the ache anymore, that never lasts more then a couple hours, but he feels refreshed, rejuvenated, and ready to get back to work. He dips his head under a branch as he makes his way through the woods quietly, his thumb hooked into the strap of his back pack, a small pleased smile on his face. Yup... this was a good idea... He almost doesn't see the lone girl a hundred feet ahead or so. He stops, instantly alert. Things that are out of place always put him on edge... Suddenly he wishes he'd brought his armor.
Things had been going so peacefully so far. The conversation with Laura was actually pleasent, and Jocelyn was...wait, what was this? While Jocelyn doesn't look at Deathstroke, she suddenly seems to go on high alert as she looks down the mountain at the ground. She had seen Domino's psionic signature before, and while she couldn't positively identify the person down on the ground as Domino, well, it was someone with a bunch of psionic power heading her way.
The teen stands and picks up her backpack as she glances around suspiciously, looking in the direction of Slade, and while there is no way she could have heard or seen him through the brush vegetations, she notes the heat signature of Slade. There was a second person here, and this one far closer than she'd like. Drawing in some energy to charge herself, Jocelyn makes a quick couple of leaps backwards onto some different ledges. Those were difficult leaps, Slade might notice, that most people couldn't have done without looking and planning the jumps. She doesn't want to speak, however. Voices carried on mountains way too easily. Slade would possibly notice that she does not look armed in any way, except for perhaps a multitool sticking out of a pocket.
The crazy jumping is kind of a tip-off, right there. "Played your hand too early, kiddo," Domino quietly says to herself. But..hold up. There's another signature coming into play. Who -else- would be out here at this hour? Or..y'know. Ever. If someone else is searching for the wayward student then it's not likely that they would be arriving from that direction. Something isn't adding up here.
Sigh.
"Next lesson will be on the tactical importance of leaving a note before you run out the door," she mutters while picking up the pace. Seriously, those X-Kids..! This is what Dom gets for abusing their healthcare services. Maybe being a teacher would be easier.
Slade Wilson isn't just a signature, he's a /big/ signature. Sure, Dom's seen bigger, but statistically it's unusual as all hell. Slade watches the girl bound off and he remains still for a moment. It's none of his business. Super powered grasshopper girls in the woods north of Gotham are none of his concern. Nope. He turns back towards the direction of the city. He tries to walk, he really does but... ... ..."Dammit." he says, turning to eye the direction the girl went and giving chase. He's just to damned curious and besides, his vacation isn't over yet, a good hunt is just what the doctor ordered.
Jocelyn played her hand just at the right time, in her opinion, since Dom didn't initially know about the other person nearby. But, Jocelyn isn't planning on hurting anyone, though when Slade starts coming after her, the tall girl decides that up is better, and 'jumps' up about fifteen feet to another ledge further away. In reality she flies, of course, but it looks like a jump in the dark. Poor Dom is going to have even more mountain to climb thanks to Slade giving chase. Fortunately for Jocelyn, she's in her disguise, so she won't get identified right away, if Slade had been watching the news.
"What do you want?" the girl hisses, keeping her voice low. It's not a local New Yorker accent. Something Midwestern, to a well-traveled individual. There's a hint of a warning in that voice too. She didn't know who this person was, but like anyone who might be cornered, showing fear was not an option, and she had the advantage of just seeing a heat signature rather than an actual body and face.
Well now, it sure is a good thing that Domino came prepared for the hunt tonight! Here she had figured on rappeling up the sides of buildings instead of mountains, but it's all the same to the grappel line affixed to her left wrist. As her most likely target goes to even -higher- ground and gets intercepted by that other, bigger, rainbow-hued blob of heat, she makes her move. The sound of discharging compressed air is easily lost to the forest's evening soundtrack, followed by the faint whirr of a thread-thin cable unraveling from the arm-mounted device.
It catches, holds, and gives her a straight shot clear over the treeline. Here's where her job just gets to be fun, the woman's swift ascension followed with a thin whining sound of a tiny electric winch. Goin' up!
Slade Wilson can't leap 15 feet straight up... but it might look like it, considering the speed with which he begins to ascend the rock face, at least until he reaches a point a couple dozen feet beneath the girl, his finger clinging to ledges so narrow as to be nearly invisible in the darkness. Slade's good, and his eye sight is insane, but now that he's up here... hrm... he's run out of handholds. "That is a question with a dirth of answers to vast to answer appropriately young lady." says a cultured baritone that's remarkably soothing and powerful at the same time. "You should learn to be more specific in your inquiries." he pauses, "I don't suppose that's a niche to my left is it? The shadows are at an odd angle and I cannot be completely certain."
Domino's toys make soft noises, but they're unnaturally, and so they stand out among the other noises of the woods. Slade's head tilts to the side, "In ten seconds you are going to have company." he says simply, "The question is whether you want the sort of company that's wandering the mountains carrying a climbers pack, or the sort that carries a repelling system of climbing gear designed for urban combat scenarios. Chose quickly." The muscles of his back bunch as he digs his fingertips into the quarter inch ledges and he looks for the source of the noises he heard. This would be so much easier with his damned armor! Of course...that's what makes it more fun.
A glance is spared for the repelling system when Slade mentions it. "That one can't hurt me," Jocelyn says. Can't. Not won't. She's at least got some confidence. "You I don't know about, and it's a little higher to your left". Which is true. "How about this. Why are you chasing me? The mountain has to be far more interesting, even at night, than a lone girl who has chosen to spend her time on it".
Five seconds.
Jocelyn leaps to a ledge about twenty feet from Slade and about 15 feet from where Domino will end up as she watches that signature come more sharply into focus. "Good hold will be to your left," the girl says in Domino's direction as she approaches. Hey. She didn't want Domino to get hurt chasing her, and if she's going to use urban combat gear to chase her down, well, Jocelyn could at least give her the courtesy of telling her where the best hold is.
Zzzzzzip!
..Frig. "I was hoping that line would be about ten feet longer," Domino says to no one in particular as she's left hanging from the lone piton. ..Right. Good hold on her ..left? And her left arm is currently suspended by a thin cable. Frig! Did her luck just run out here?
With a grimace she twists herself about, flattening her back to the cliff face as she catches that good handhold with her -right- hand. Slightly awkward, but beggars can't be choosers. This hardware isn't exactly rated for mountainous use.
"So hey, kiddo. How's about you stop putting yourself -further- outside of my reach, huh? That's just rude."
Then she gets a proper look at the other guy, the monochromed woman inclining her head in greeting. "You gonna be a pain in my ass here, buddy?"
Slade Wilson chuckles, "I have already climbed this mountain." he says simply, "And if I had not, it would still be here tomorrow. But a girl who leaps with the grace of a mountain goat? She is less likely to stick around." He swings his weight out with an almost effortless gesture, free hopping without a line to the next hold she pointed out, and from the once more beginning his ascent. From there it's a single leap of his own to where his fingers curls around the ledge the girl was on a moment ago before he pulls himself up and dusts off his hands. Given the night, he's glade for the shadows, and he adjusts his position to keep his face covered by them. 
The man's gaze settles on Domino with an almost physical weight, when he speaks his voice is deep and cultured, smooth, but more then that it's confident and it somehow /fits/ him perfectly. "Honestly?" he says from the shadows, "I've not yet decided. My curiosity is peeked."
Jocelyn makes a hop over to another ledge, this one a good twenty feet away. "Well, you're right about that. I don't intend to stick around this mountain too long. Two is company and all that," Jocelyn replies to Slade. "Though sometime I'll have to make it a point of climbing this mountain myself. I've yet to climb it properly".
A look is given to Domino. "Can't say I plan on staying within reach. I don't feel like being dragged off against my will tonight. I got some things to clear up out of town on my own, as you might of guessed. I was just making this a pit stop". A shrug is given. "You know how it is".
That..sounds a lot like an honest answer. Which means this guy is either really stupid, or really confident.
"Yeah, look," Domino starts in while finding some footholds for herself then reaching up to pull the goggles away from her eyes. "I'm kinda responsible for the well-being of this one. In a roundabout way. If she is who I think she is. So if it's all the same with Mister Honest here, would ya mind giving me a hand up?"
Someone's still healing from some very unsightly injuries. Hanging here is slightly less than comfortable on all of her stitches.
"What--against your will? What makes you think I'm here to -kidnap- you, kiddo? Hell, no wonder you took off. Got your mind already made up and everything. Your personal view of me could use some improvement."
Slade Wilson looks up, then over, then back again... Hrm. Curiouser and curiouser. He takes a two step jump before landing on the ledge nearest Domino, his balance is superb as he manages it without so much as a stumble. He then squats down and reaches out, snagging up the line Dom hangs from and wrapping it once around his arm, he hauls her in like a fish on a line. Obviously, the guy said he climbs mountains so it's not like dragging in the much lighter Dom should be impressive. "I'm still undecided." he informs the mercenary as he makes room for her on the ledge.
He then adjusts the pack on his back and his posture seems to soften slightly before he looks up, "Young lady, are you old enough to make decisions, even foolish ones, for yourself and if so, are you wise enough to understand if you should trust them?" he then turns to Dom, "And are you old enough and wise enough to realize trying to make a young woman do something she doesn't wish to do is tantamount to forcing her to do that very thing? If the answer to all these questions is 'yes', as I suspect they are, then perhaps we can, like civilized people, climb back down the mountain, have a camp fire upon which I will make us a meal while the pair of you discuss your reasons for this jaunt into the wilderness like rational adults." he looks back and forth again, "Or this could end up a grand brawl that accomplishes nothing except possibly killing the only person here who is obviously least equipped for the encounter. Which is a shame, because he is exceptionally handsome, charming, and makes very good camp food. 
"Not a personal view. It's a view of anyone who goes looking for me with that much gear. It's a pretty logical conclusion," Jocelyn explains to Domino. "Personally, I do generally enjoy your company most of the time". Though she didn't like the bit about being responsible for her well-being. But that was typical of a teenager. "I'm fine talking about it up here, but I do think I'm in the minority in that category". A shrug is given.
"I'll help anyone down who would like a hand. Then we can talk properly". A glance is given to Domino. She had to give it to the woman. She was persistant.
"Be undecided all ya like, buddy," Domino says as she's hauled up onto the ledge. She's just starting to retract the wire back into the rappel when she finally gets a proper, unmodified look at the guy that so easily lifted her from the side of the mountain.
There she stops. And stares.
"-Cable?-"
The most obvious response is probably 'yes, it is,' considering that she's now reeling one back into the device attached to her arm.
No..wait, here. The Cable that she knew never spoke so eloquently. There's no 'rrr, save humanity from a terrible war, these weapons are primitive, rrr.' But he -looks so much like the guy.-
Dom quickly shakes her head and mutters another very colorful curse under her breath. That's -two- times now which she's seen that ghost's face on some other person. Why did he have to come into her life at all? He's done nothing but make a mess of everything, and it only took him a few hours to accomplish such a task! No wonder that man's future reality lay in ruin, it's probably destroyed -because- of him.
Another quick sigh follows as Dom tries to sum everything up in one go. In cases like this one, less is more. "Frankly, I don't care -what- she does with herself. I'm just trying to make sure that she's okay." Insert glance-slash-glare to Jocelyn here. "This whole 'cornered rat' game that she's playing is all a big, irritating surprise to me."
Slade Wilson's mouth drops open in a suddenly understanding 'Ah' like sound. He glances back up at the girl, then back down at Dom, "We should go." he says to the mercenary simply. "I will admit, it's been longer for me then you, but I still remember being that age, vaugly. I couldn't leap up a mountain," a glance back at the girl, "but I was a good athlete. I thought I knew what was best too, made stupid decisions, paid for them. But I had to make them, people couldn't talk me out of them." his gaze falls back on Dom and for the first time the moonlight plays over his features. White hair, short and roguishly floppy, like a military cut grown to long, a well cared for goatee, and a black eye patch from beneath which faint scars extend outward towards his temple, like exagerated crows feet. "Come on, I'll make us dinner and she can join us if she wants. If not," he shrugs, "then I have a deck of cards and we'll gamble a bit." her luck vs his mind. Now that would be one hell of a poker game.
Jocelyn was going to be fine with that, but Domino's glare sets Jocelyn's face to hardening slightly. "Shouldn't be too tough to figure out the surprise. But, good to know where you stand". She makes her way to another ledge, starting to wrap around the side of the mountain a bit. "Don't worry. I'll check in Tuesday or so. Don't worry about me". And with that, the girl makes her way around the side of the mountain. Though she did plan to check in on them at some point, perhaps from a distance, to make sure nothing happened to Domino. She just couldn't make it obvious.
'Check in Tuesday.' It takes just a second for the message to process in Domino's mind. "Yeah. You've got my number. Try it sometime." What else can she do? Trying to chase a girl that can levitate is something of an exercise in futility and she's not getting paid enough to go through -that- mess.
In fact, she's not getting paid at all. Still, she's not about to stick a dart in Joce's neck and drag her back to the Institute. Everyone has the right to run away and do their own thing, but as part of the security team she felt it'd be particularly callous to simply ignore the girl's disappearance.
Which she's gone and done all over again. (I can't win.) On the other hand, it now leaves her alone with a man whom she's still not convinced isn't Cable. ..Or convinced that he -is- Cable. But he didn't try to deny it, and how many white-haired men have marks like -that- around one eye?
Dom's full attention returns to the man whom she may or may not know, locking a fresh piton onto the end of the cable then locking it into place with a few soft clicks. "You're right. We should."
There's much for them to discuss, these two.
Slade Wilson watches the girl go and then turns his attention back to Domino. He eyes her once, then turns to drop off of the ledge, grabbing it with his fingers as he falls, and using that momentum to swing out to a nearby set of handholds. In the dark the relatively easy climb becomes a challenge, and Slade /loves/ a challenge. "First one to the bottom shares the other's sleeping bag." he quips at her in jest as he begins to descend. And he's /fast/ about it.
Domino can be damned quick, too. When she wants to be. This isn't one of those times. "Quaint," she says to herself while watching you drop with alarming precision. "Sleeping bags? I brought a BMW."
Too bad she didn't also bring a parachute. "This is gonna be a long night," she grumbles while descending from the rocky ledge, at a much more pedestrian pace. She's still got half a million dollars' worth of stitches in her torso.
By the time she gets to the bottom of the cliff he's busy gathering firewood for the promised camp fire from before. If 'gathering' means finding a single fallen bit of dead wood the size of Domino's thigh and using a heavy bladed knife to with a serrated back edge to saw it down a bit. He's got enough for a decent fire already set aside, "Good fortune," he says as she arrives, "it's like the limb was waiting for us."
"Yeah, lucky you," Dom says with only a hint of sarcasm as she watches you work. Did you really cut that thing down with a -knife?- She finds a tree to lean against, gently falling back against the trunk. "Let me guess, you come from a long line of Alaskan Whittlers. Come on here, are you Cable or aren't you? I'm -sick- of playing this game. Generally I at least have some basic understanding of what the damned rules are."
Slade Wilson pauses in cutting the wood down and turns his head with a familiar motion, one that allows him to see her out of his good side without really making a point of turning all the way around. "I am not Cable." he states after a long moment of silence. He continues to work however, disjointing the wood with perfect motions. He goes about building a fire, and he does it expertly and quickly, as if it were habit more then anything. "But I can see how you'd make the leap." he says, dusting his hands off. "My name is Slade Wilson, and you are, unless there's another woman walking around with your unique beauty, Domino. Honestly I'd ask your actual name but I imagine the one I know is as much you as the other." he offers her a knowing smile. "Hand me one of those 10mm's on your belt would you? I don't wanna mess around with friction lighting." he holds his hand out for the bullet.
There Domino stands, one hand supporting an elbow and the other hand supporting her forehead. She stays like that until you go and say something like how she could make the leap, quickly lifting her head and lowering her hand away to stare at you anew. "Don't tell me you -know- the guy..." Seriously, what the hell's going on here?
When you make a positive ID on her there's a part of her mind that wants to give you a 10mm bullet in a way completely counter to why you ask for one a moment later, but she is a remarkable sort, and she does have one hell of a reputation. You're obviously more than an explorer, it's not a stretch that you'd know the name. Not that she can't press on the matter that much further.
One of her pistols clears from its holster beneath her trench, half-gloved fingers reaching for the slide. "And how does one like you--"
Ch-CHAK!
"--hear about--"
The single, unfired bullet gets caught out of the air.
"--one like me?" she asks, flicking the bullet toward your awaiting palm. "For that matter, how did you know I'm packing, and -what- I'm packing?"
If it's all the same to you, she's just going to hold onto that pistol now that it's exposed and freshly charged and all.
Slade Wilson catches the bullet from the air and without the slightest sign of concern plies the knife's edge against the lead tip, jacking it free and pouring the powder out into a small depression amid some kindling. A swift strike from the pommel of the knife causes a flash and some smoke, and then a moment later a single flame. He gives it a couple of gentle breathes and once the fire's going he stands and brushes off his knees before sitting down on a fallen log and sifting through his pack idly. "Know him? No. But I've seen some photos. The likeness isn't perfect but, I will grant that he and I share a few distinguishing marks." he taps his eye patch and his goatee, apparently meaning the color of it. "Easy mistake to make in the night, even the day given the right circumstances. Ah-ha!"
Slade pulls out a few packaged food stuffs the likes of which the military uses, and some collapsible camp ware. He begins setting up a tripod stand and opening packets and mixing things. He even pulls out a few small pouches with various herb labels on them. He continues not to be bothered by her or the gun. "You can put that away you know, I've no reason to assault you. Think of me rather, as an admirer of your work. That bit in Felucia a few years ago, that was a nice piece of work there. Reading the file was more like a Bourne novel then a real op, I honestly didn't think you'd make it out of the camp in one piece." he pauses and glances at her curiously, "Did you steal a camel or a bike? The report was inconclusive, but from some of the clues I suspect it was a camel. The Annie's wouldn't budge though, swore he had to have taken the bike option." Annie. It's a Professional term, used by operators as part short hand part pajoritive, it stands for Analyst.
Once more Domino falls silent, watching you as you get the fire going. She's trying not to sneer, patiently waiting until the flames start to take. "You know, there's these things called lighters... Tend to waste less ammo that way."
So. Two people, alone in the woods, fire started. Probably going to be a long night for them both.
"That you know the name and what he looks like is unexpected. Here I thought he only chose to invade my personal space. Wonder who else managed to be graced by his presence." Friggin' time-traveling teleporting psychic freaks.
Ehm. -Yikes.- Her reputation generally doesn't go quiiite that far. She never lifts her eyes away from you when thumbing the hammer forward, letting the last of the spring tension help roll the sidearm around her finger before nesting back into place beneath her shoulder. "Camel, and I don't recommend it from a ride comfort perspective. They spit, but they make a lot less noise than a two cycle. Still, traded up soon as I could. I find bikes a lot easier to feed." And a lot more fun.
"You another SHIELD op on leave? Got an awful lot of intel on someone that doesn't crawl out of her spot in the underground all that often. Can't place it, but you've got some serious training. I'm gonna go ahead and assume it's from numerous sources rather than an individual, you lack the common trademarks of a one-and-done."
Slade Wilson offers a small smile, "You're carrying enough ammo to spare the one, and I'm not carrying a lighter." he says as he leans over the now hanging pot with it's water and various ingrediants in it. He sniffs, then leans back against a tree to eye Domino. Once more the weight of the gaze settles on her, a palpable thing. Yup. Easy to mistake him for Cable, "I thought as much." he grins wider when he finds out he was correct. When she asks about SHIELD, he laughs, warm unexpected sound filled with genuine mirth, "Oh, I'd actually pay you to ask Nick that to his face." he says, reaching up to wipe a tear of amusment from the corner of his eye where it was collecting. "No, no I'm not SHIELD, never was, but not for their lack of trying. Let's just say we travel in similar circles but on slightly different levels. You've heard of me, but you've never heard of me. It'll make sense one day, I promise." his head leans back against the bark of the tree and he lets out a long sigh, "So what's with you and the Beiber fan up there?" he asks, tossing a thumb in the direction of the mountain curiously. "She run away from some place you were running herd on or she a fetch job that you got all soft on and let slip?" the last part is said with a smile that's part light hearted jest and part... inquiry.
Not SHIELD? "Well, that's a fuggin' relief," Domino mutters. Though while you talk she slips a hand back into a coat pocket, coming back a moment later to flick something else your way. If you don't catch it, it'll land in the grass beside you.
It's a Zippo lighter.
"Never hurts to ask." Or be prepared. Molotovs and gas pumps don't ignite themselves.
"Normally I'd tell you to stuff it, my business ain't your business, but the former's closer. She's got the right to take off for a while, but you saw what the girl can do. Some folks tend to get a little concerned when someone like that up and disappears. Call it my community service for the week," she concludes while pulling a small flask out of a pocket and twisting the hinged cap open.
"For the record, I don't 'go soft.' I become better informed." Yes, she's lost her share of jobs before. If people always gave her the full story they wouldn't bother trying to hire her in the first place.
Slade Wilson snags up the lighter, without really looking and he tosses it back, "That wasn't the point." he says, nodding at the fire. "That was standard survival training for Army Rangers, I was trying to see if you'd recognize it. You did not. That tells me something about you." he grins, "And at the same time it relieved you of one bullet. Every advantage, however small, remains an advantage." his smile remains warm and teasing still, no challenge or danger in him. He seems to be genuinely enjoying himself and the discussion. He nods at the way the turns the words around, "One can never trust an employer in our line of work, well, not unless one is planning on a short ugly retirement party." the area around the fire now smells of well spiced stew, and frankly, it smells really good for what should be crap from an MRE bag.
The lighter is caught with a soft *tink* within Domino's palm, returning it to its home. "Like I give half a damn about the Army. You already know so much about me, you shouldn't have to resort to fishing. Enjoy the bullet victory, though. Figured it was worth the cost of dinner." And a chance to get herself some answers. Minor sacrifice.
There it is, too. Confirmation. -Our- line of work. Merc in disguise. "Got that right," she agrees while finally drifting closer to settle in beside the fire, directly across from you. "You're in it because you enjoy the hunt. Well educated, stupidly strong, can make a gourmet meal out of survivalist basics if the smell is anything to judge by. Mountain-climbing by the moonlight in March. You could follow any calling that you want to. Given that you're hiding an alter ego, it seems the thrill-seeking side of you only comes out to play on the weekends. You're too chummy to be one of the sadistic types, too. Point to you, there."
Slade Wilson shrugs, "Files are often incomplete, wrong, rumors are rumors, but this is the first time I've actually met you. It was a simple test of a theory, namely, that your training was US Military standard. Nice to see I still have chops when it comes to investigation." His grin remains full as she lists off things she's learned, "I would point out some flaws in your deductions, but they're minute. You don't think much about your actions, you're very instinctual, trust your gut... I can respect that." he eyes the stew cooking in the pot, "I think I like you Domino. You're mouthy, but it's not ignorance so much as bravado. Being sexy in combat gear doesn't hurt either. I think, in the future, our paths will cross again." he pulls out a bowl and a large spoon and begins to ladel food into it before passing it to her, "Careful, it'll be a bit warm."
It's funny how things work out sometimes. Everything for a reason, the universe provides, yadda yadda. "There's some ignorance in there as well," Dom counters with a thin smirk, setting her flask aside to accept the bowl. "Gonna take more than cooking finesse and flattery, too. Just, one thing here."
"Who the hell -are- you?"
Slade Wilson hands the bowl over and then picks up the pot itself and uses the knife he cut the log apart with to stab at a floating bit of meat. He was alone, so only had one bowl and spoon that he let her use, he'll manage. He grins and blows on the hunk of steaming meat, "Slade Wilson." he says simply, "I believe we covered this earlier." he points out. "You see, the joy of having two identities is that without knowing them both, they work equally well as masks. Assuming of course your coloring isn't so unique." he nods at her face. "Is that a tattoo or something else? None of my business, just curious."
Treading the same ground, sure. But it still doesn't exactly answer Domino's question. To yours though, she answers simply by reaching up to that spot and rubbing the tip of a finger across the marked skin. There's no distortion to the spot in question, clearly not cosmetic. "I understand the allure in having a game face but there is no way in -hell- that I would put up with trying to draw this thing every day."
Of course, it still doesn't explain where it came from.
Slade Wilson chuckles at that, "Fair enough. I'd suggest a mask, but you have a distinct look all your own already, look like that, a trademark, it's as important as a name. The best of us have them both, it's best not to cash it in if you don't have to." he leans back and begins to eat the stew, and silence descends on the camp. The pair of mercenaries, one knowing more then the other, eye each other and the night in a silence that is companionable but also weighed down with unanswered questions and secrets. It's the silence of the Operator, and it's familiar to them both. Later, when the camp is broken down, they part, carefully, going separate ways. The last words Domino hears from the large man are teasing in nature. "I'll see you around."
Category:Log