2015.01.18 - Blüdbath: The Landing

Time: A bit after midnight. 
 
Place: Blüdhaven, near the new Sionis Industries building. 
 
The chilly night air is cut with the sound of a woman screaming for help, followed by a couple of gunshots. In other words, it's a relatively quiet night in Blüdhaven. 
 
Now that things are calm again, it's almost hard to believe that just a few minutes ago one of Blüdhaven's meat-packing plants was the scene of an extremely violent battle between members of Deathstroke's gang of mercenary thugs, ninjas from the League of Assassins, and a small but valiant group of superheroes. Just a few blocks away more than eighty bodies are strewn about the plant, a few of which are still writhing in the throes of death. 
 
But here in the downtown area all is relatively quiet. A nondescript black SUV pulls into the plaza in front of the new Sionis Industries building. Normally, the building's security would probably tell the driver that he couldn't park here. But tonight they seem relieved to see the vehicle. 
 
The SUV pulls right up to a small crater in the pavement before coming to a stop. Leaving the headlights burning and the engine idling, the driver disembarks the vehicle. The driver is a white-haired man with an impressive mustache, just on the cusp of what would be considered 'elderly.' He wears an expensive suit under a heavy overcoat. But he seems a bit disheveled, as if he got dressed in a hurry. 
 
"Sir? Are you still with us?" 
 
At his feet lies the motionless, twisted body of Deathstroke the Terminator. His orange and blue armor is all but totaled, his limbs are all in unnatural positions, and the pool of black blood he lies in is beginning to dry. 
 
"Oh dear. You've had a rough landing, sir. I should have had the presence of mind to bring someone stronger with me. Getting you into the cab in your state..." 
 
Suddenly, the sound of a bone cracking cuts off the elderly man in mid-sentence. The sound is followed by a howl of pain as one of Deathstroke's arms snaps back into place. Using his partially-healed arm, he shoves the other back into place with a similarly-loud shriek. Fortunately, none of his soldiers can see him right now. 
 
"Very good sir. Here, let me help you snap your legs back into place. Then we'll pop back home and have a nice cup of tea. Just the thing for it."
Category:Log