2013.03.27 - Reporting In

In the aftermath of Madripoor's newest artificial reef, the Bloody Sun that had set in the bay of Madripoor, Roy Harper -really- wanted nothing better than to drag his ass back home and have a long shower.
A phone call, however, changed that.
"Hello?"
"Get your ass back to the bar."
No, Domino, no need to even -ask- who was calling, judging from the way Roy's face shifted from tiredly grumpy to somewhat -more- respectful. "Right, right, on my way."
"And bring the Gung-ho Gun with you too." Click.
"Nice to talk to you too, Contact," Roy sighs, using his hand to mimic two flapping lips at the phone before flipping it closed.
"Black Lagoon time," Roy says, perhaps unnecessarily.
Speaking of downtime... Domino would sure appreciate some of that for herself. They did the job. They -earned- this time. But no. Roy had to take a call and have the -other- alpha start tugging on his leash. Again.
"For fuck's sake, Harper," she groans. "Fancy the bad girls and you -still- don't have a spine of your own. Tell her to take a hike already, we've earned the rest of the day off."
Besides, she's got saltwater to scrub out of her guns.
"Can -I- at least go have a life of my own?" she asks with a sidelong glance your way. Your expression says enough. Sigh. "I take it that's a 'no.'"
You know what, -fine.- If their time's going to get wasted dealing with annoying things, she'll ante up. Luckily her phone still works after its dip into the sea, quickly pulling up the number of a certain hackerette.
"Seven. Yeah--yes..uh huh..that's great--look, would you just--Tell me in person, Black Lagoon Ba--YES I expect you to step outside and be social, just--lay off the damn Skour and get your shiny ass out here, okay?"
End call. "Jeezus, that girl."
"Oh c'mon, you know me better than -that-, since when did I ever -listen- to..." There was a pause, as Roy considers that, before he puts his hands in his pockets. "Anyway, she likes debriefing people while events are still fresh. C'mon, sooner we get this done, sooner we can get a freakin' shower. Hopefully together, but I'll settle for somethin' -hot-..." No, his heart really wasn't into the teasing, judging by his tired look, but for form's sake anyway.
Soon enough, the Black Lagoon bar is present, and Roy holds the door open long enough to let Domino go first. An act of gallantry...
... which probably could also have been a measure of self-defense, as Belikova's eyes snap towards the people who had just arrived. "Upstairs, now," she says brusquely. Direct, to the point, not even a hello, just a -snap to it- tone.
"That was your out loud voice," Domino warns in a way that suggest she's not up to par, either. Consider yourself lucky that she didn't decide to deck you for that comment.
And so it begins.
"Hello to you, too." You scar-faced, back-stabbing Ruskie wolf bitch. Before following the order she hops around the back of the bar, helps herself to one of the bottles tucked away on the rack, -then- heads upstairs. One way or another this little side trip is going to be worth her while.
"'Thank you' usually works," she tells Beli once away from prying ears. "You wanted us to Titanic the sucker and we did. I fail to see any reason for this meeting unless you wanted to hand us each a gold star in person."
"A boatload of Chinese dudes," Domino almost carelessly replies while taking a hit right from the neck of the bottle. The slight scrunching of her face suggests that she's had better.
"Look Vasya," she continues with a typical pet variant of the other woman's name, "I was a little bus sneaking around belowdecks planting charges and trying to not get myself shot. I've only seen one memorable face on the whole boat and I've already got someone en route to this hole in the wall to try and lend a hand, seeing as how urgent of a matter you're making this out to be. You want more info, -I- want more info, the only way either of us are going to -get- more info is if you allow a certain shiny, hyperactive techie wiz to join our little conference up here."
It always feels good having the ball back on Dom's side of the court. The way she's slouching into one of those chairs might point to smug arrogance, but that's usually how she sits.
That's also usually the sort of demeanor she carries about herself.
Roy seems ready to chime in, but falls silent as Domino replies, causing Belikova to compress her lips together into a thin flat line. And then before Belikova can say anything, Roy chimes in. "There was Kozlov. He was there peddling his arms. And making a deal with a woman in black."
Belikova turns on Roy, frowning. "_Kozlov_. Damn." She pursues her lips. "I don't suppose you found anything else other than the woman in black's measurements, Harper?"
"Uh..."
"Wait, hold on." Belikova turns her cold brown eyes to Domino. "-What- hyperactive techie wiz?" Her hand to her forehead, as though she were experiencing a migraine. "You didn't..."
Did Belikova and Austin already know one another? Anything's possible, neither are particularly subtle in their given profession. However, the thought that Beli might know this other woman enough to have this kind of reaction? Simply priceless from where Dom's sitting.
"The job was to sink the ship, -not- gather intel. Now, I have some intel of my own to gather, and seeing as how you were so thoughtful to invite us over and offer us both drinks I figure the least I could do was let you listen in on part of my outside business dealings. Besides, you did supply us with the charges that sank the tank. Fair's fair, and all."
Stressing already stressed business relationships can be both fun and profitable!
"So, either let my girl join in or I'll leave you with Harper and go back to doing my own thing."
The albino's grin grows a little further as she pulls out her phone and rests it on the table, vibrating with an incoming text message from the hacker, herself. Either way, this trip is -going- to be worth Dom's while. "Take your pick."
There was just a moment there where Belikova locks gazes with Domino, and one could almost see a Siberian wolf hovering there in her aura, opening its jaws to lock down on the mercenary. Her fingers twitch slightly, as though ready to draw her weapon...
"Hey, come on, Dommie," Roy says, trying to head off the conflict. "We've got to focus on Kozlov and..."
"Fine," Belikova says coolly, as her fingers curls up into fists. "If you think she's going to be useful, you -will- Control her." And yes, she somehow managed to say 'control' with a capital C.
Shaking her head, Belikova turns back. "So, Kozlov is selling arms to this woman... and you didn't blow up the tanker soon enough to prevent it?"
"Well, we did, I think... that woman was -pissed off-..." Roy begins, when there's a knock.
"Who is it?" Belikova calls out.
"Some ditzy dame says she was asked here, should we bring her up?"
"..." Belikova looked like a stinkbug had crawled into her mouth as she spits out, "Fine, send her up."
Her gaze shifts back to Domino. Holding -you- responsible for her.
While this stare is going on, Domino's sitting in that chair with one arm draped over one armrest and one leg hooked over the other. Here sits a mercenary who has melted into the chair. Whatever's in that bottle might be high proof, but the look of idle amusement is one hundred percent her own.
Go on, Beli. Try something. If you want her help, you play by her rules.
"Unlike some of us, she's not interested in waving a gun in your face. Your 'wrecking ball' is a much bigger risk than she is."
Just twist that knife a little further while she's got it into the other woman...
Suddenly: Austin. "Heyoo-whoa, 'kay, who dropped the negative bomb all up in here? I've been to graveyards with a more positive vibe, sheebuz. Total psyche burn."
Dom rolls her head back against the chair, watching the third woman in the shiny, clingy, synthetic attire with tired eyes. "Time to go to work, kiddo. I need access to the global badass directory, we've got a woman to hunt."
Austin's gauntleted fingers mesh together and flex backward with a series of soft popping sounds. "Tag. Be a cycle or four, hang loose." Pause. "On second thought, don't hang loose. You're already lookin' about ready to seep into the floor."
"Focus," Dom says in a firm tone.
Austin's shoulders hang slightly. "Gonna be one'a -them- kinds of meetings, that right? Fine. Fuckin' killjoys, the lot a'ya's."
Ruefully shaking his head as he makes room for Austin to enter, Roy pauses, quirking an eyebrow at Domino. "Wrecking ball? Hey, I think I'd resent the implications of that..."
"Hush, Bard," Back to undercover names, and Belikova was no fool, as she regards the third woman with an arched eyebrow. She mutters something in Russian, briefly. |Worse than her reputation. Crazier than the intel on her said.| Switching back to English, Belikova turns towards Domino. "Intel on any particular woman who might have been working on arms deal with Ivan Kozlov."
Oh look, she was telling Domino -who- to look for, instead of Austin. How convenient.
Belikova shifts her gaze to Roy. "And her attributes?"
"36-25-35," Roy says, flashing a crooked half-grin.
Belikova sighs, motioning to Domino as she moves aside to let her do the honors...
"Uh, black hair, glasses," Roy chimes in quickly before...
Throughout all of this Austin's hands are darting and weaving about in the air. Without skipping a beat she states "Y'all are weird."
One errant swipe of a hand smacks into the bottle of booze sitting beside Domino, who happened to see it coming a mile off. Without a word she catches it out of the air before it could spill a drop or break upon the floor, setting it back on the table at her other side. "Stupid rich, too. Has a fondness for esoteric weapons and modern German assault rifles for her goons. Accent. Regal sorta prissy bitch, daughter of an oil baron or something. Not afraid to flaunt her cash cushion."
"You always did pick the best people to make friends with, DomDom--"
"We exchanged gunfire."
"--Like I said. Um. 'Kay, scratch that. You pick the -very- best people to --gimme your phone."
Before Domino can react Austin's hand darts out like a streak of PVC and LED-wrapped lightning, holding it in one hand while she snaps the fingers of her other hand right over it. Just like that the screen shows a picture of a woman matching the description, which she leaves for everyone else by sliding it back across the table.
"You don't screw around with the little fish, girl. Unless the search parameters aren't wholly accurate, you just shot at the Baroness."
"-Who?-" Dom starts in, gradually sitting upright in her chair.
"Y'know--no, y'don't," Austin sighs. "Thirty year old psychobitch extraordinaire, known terrorist across most of the civilized portions of the globe, smart, sexy, sociopathic--sound like anyone else we know?" she asks with a toothy, mirrored imager covered expression back at the pale woman.
"Now, I just can't help but notice the -obvious- number of alpha chicks getting involved with this mess..." A look is quickly shot back over to Roy. "Don't know whether to feel sorry for ya or congratulate ya, buddy. Either way? Might wanna keep your head down."
Crowding around the table to get a better look, Roy whistles. "Yeah, that's her, all right. Sounds a lot like Dommie here, only without the sociopathic terrorist part."
"Without the terrorist part," Belikova corrects, without glancing up at Domino. "Damn. She -is- trying to get a foothold in Madripoor's Lowtown. At least we disrupted -that- deal."
Belikova withdraws from the table, seating herself in a chair. Her fingers steeple in front of her as she ponders, looking towards Domino and Roy, but she says nothing, as the gears in her head turns.
Nudging Austin, Roy grins. "Don't worry 'bout me, it's gonna be a piece of cake. Just chase her off, right, Contact?"
Belikova says nothing, closing her eyes as she thinks.
"I said, right, Contact?"
"God, make him shut up," Belikova sighs at Domino.
No effort is made to counter Beli's correction on the sociopathic remark. Dom's been called worse. And less accurately labeled.
"God helpfully reminds you that he's your problem," she counters without hesitation. "I have my one, already."
"Hey Dommles, you're not gonna like this. Wait..maybe you will. You still enjoy shooting guys, right?" she asks with another mirrored glance back to the woman in question. All she gets is a level glare in response. "..Right. It's rare for this lady of yours to work alone, 'pparently. Resources, muscle, proper backing by strapping young lads with combat training, plus she's apparently quite vain. You prooobably don't wanna leave a scar on this one unless you follow through with some sense of finality."
"Noted," Domino says with a gentle sigh.
"She's a real good shot, too," Austin continues with one hand forming a pistol and the other once more snapping her fingers in tune with 'firing' the gun, causing the phone's display to change to one of the Baroness with a mean looking weapon in hand. "Likes her toys. Betcha can relate there, too."
"Thanks, Cyberpunk. Think we all get the picture." Dom helps herself to another drink before looking over to Beli. "Got anyone else you want a lookup on? She's good at what she does."
"Yah, yer bill's in the mail," Austin snarkily replies. "Few more who's who pings and I'll be able to buy that three fifty-five I've had my eye on."
"That a battery pack or something?" the albino asks.
Austin stops short, giving her a meaningful stare from beyond her lenses. "It's a Ferrari."
Sighing at Domino's reply, Belikova, without even a glance towards the ginger SHIELD agent, lashes a fist out to the side.
Only Roy's flinch as he shifts his legs saves Lian from being an only child. "Hey! She might be a badass, but I'm better." Roy protests. "How bad can she be?"
Belikova ignores the ginger agent as she considers Austin, weighing her capabilities. "Just how good is she, when she's not stoned out of her mind?" she asks Domino, canting her head to the side. Yes, she was talking about the hacker as though she weren't there.
Fair enough question, that. With her level expression still in place, Domino eyes the hacker gal again and pointedly asks "How wired are you right now?"
"Thirty percent," Austin almost cheerily replies.
Dom attempts to decrypt the information for Beli's benefit. "She uses a combination of uppers like how an athlete might hop up on steroids. Makes her mind run faster, lets her multitask on a level that makes -my- head hurt. She's not a stoner, she just isn't afraid to do what it takes to be on top of her game. You should be able to respect that."
"I'm just naturally irritating," Austin continues with that same look of near-merriment. "At least to the non-gridified masses, you poor souls, you."
"She'd live online if she could--"
"I -do- live online, girl."
"--Point," Dom mutters while slowly rubbing her forehead. "What I'm getting at is, we work better when we're pissed off, she works better when she's flying in technicolor--"
"-God- you're old," Austin cuts in once more.
This time it's Domino who looks ready to punch the table, her hand snapping away from her forehead, forming a fist, then opening into an empty palm before dropping down onto the table. "Not a fan of the classics, are we?"
"What--"
"'Hackers,' you isolated net-brat. Technicolor rainbow? Forget it," Domino dismissively waves that hand while looking away from the flashy woman.
Belikova narrows her eyes at the implications, considering just whether she wanted to do this. She glances up at Roy, as wordless communication goes back and forth with their eyes. Something to do with a shared past.
Roy shakes his head briefly, a frown crossing his lips. No, no, not drugs.
Glancing back at Austin, Belikova's voice is unnaturally gentle as she asks, "Do you think you could save the technicolor for... emergencies, if _I_ paid you a retainer?"
Roy lets a sigh of relief escape his lips. Good, at least he and Belikova were on the same wavelength there.
This is most unexpected. Austin's hands dart up, snapping the imagers onto her forehead so she can look at Beli without anything getting in the way.
Domino takes the opportunity to swipe her phone off of the table before it gets involved with any more mad science.
"Without the--you're seriously gonna pay me to roll -clean?- I can't--that doesn't--is this really--"
"She accepts your offer," Dom cuts in, slipping the phone back into a clip upon her harness. "Even if I have to run her through duct-tape detox."
The comment is made with a hooked eyebrow, staring at Austin with those icy blue eyes. Beli knows the look. A challenge is being issued.
"Heeeey, that's -cold,-" Austin complains. The only good that it does is a pale, half-gloved hand being held out toward her, equally expectant. "You guys better have some -awesome- jobs for me, and aren't gonna jump my shit when it takes three seconds longer to get through to you," she grumbles while unclipping a small metal cylinder from her belt, dropping it into Dom's awaiting hand.
"I'll be checking up on you, kiddo."
"Greeeat, my very own parole officer. It's only -Madripoor,- gahdamn."
"I think we can survive three extra seconds," Roy notes dryly, as he reaches out and pats Austin on the back. "Look at it this way, you get to stay online a lot longer if you do less... uh... rolling through dirt?"
Lifting his shoulders in a shrug as he tries to imitate Austin's lingo, Roy grins. "And if you're coming down to crash, gimme a call. Been there, done that, I'll help you get clean."
Belikova nods briefly, already knowing just what Roy's been through, as her cool gaze shifts towards Domino. "Thank you," she says simply, this time allowing the thanks to linger longer in the air.
The thanks is met with a two-fingered salute from Domino, the other two fingers still curled around the neck of the bottle as it sloshes beside her head. She's mentally present enough to catch the words but vacant enough to not add anything to the conversation.
Austin takes a turn to -flop- down into one of the chairs. "Man, way to kill the party, guys. I ever wanna switch to downers I know who to call--but I am Not. Giving. Up. Caffeine."
"Just make sure it's not lethal amounts," Dom says in a distant tone. "Also, does Hal still have my ride in order?"
"'Course. Fact, he mentioned somethin' about that the other day. What was it now..." she trails off while looking around at the ceiling in a mock display of jogging her memory. "Oh right, 'tell that ungrateful bitch to get this thing out of bay three before I park it in her apartment.'"
That brings a thin smirk to her sharply contrasted features. "I'll pick it up in two hours."
"Well don't tell -me- that--"
"You'll be in contact with him before I will."
"Your ride...?" Roy looks alarmed. "What did you do with my Shelby Cobra?"
There was an undignified snort of laughter from Belikova, as she reaches out, grabs Roy's mug of beer, and drains it to the last dregs without even stopping for breath. Pushing the empty mug back at Roy, Belikova makes a dismissive wave. "Get out of my place, Bard. Go home. Bozhe moi, you reek. Get a shower."
"Hey, that's what I was going to do before you -demanded- a debriefing..."
"Take a break, go home, and be back here next week, Bard." Belikova gets up, slowly, and starts towards the door.
The brown-haired Russian pauses at the door, glancing over towards Domino. "And you..." The same two-fingered gesture is made oh so briefly, before being brought up to her eyes, then motioned back towards Domino's face.
"Your car's -fine,- Bard," Domino says in an irritated tone.
"If you can call -that- fine," Austin mutters, still peeved at the modifications it had undergone.
"Didn't I tell you the day we got here that I had some more -sane- transportation for us..? You know, so we aren't attracting the attention of every damned person living in this country? Eventually your hot rod is going to get stolen or blown to pieces. When that happens, I have a car ready for us."
"Put it out of its misery," Austin adds in the same tone as before.
Domino pushes away from the table, looking plenty tired. "C'mon, kids. Show's over. Go home. And stay off the pills, Seven."
Category:Log