The Scorpion Lies In Wait
Roleplaying Log: The Scorpion Lies In Wait
Participants
IC Details
Synopsis:

Domino and Carmilla evade a traffic stop and end up holing up at a safehouse in Gotham while they plot their next move against AIM.

Other Characters Referenced:
IC Date: May 11, 2019
IC Location: The Narrows, Gotham
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 01 Jun 2019 12:52
Rating & Warnings: R
Scene Soundtrack: [* ]
NPC & GM Credits:
Associated Plots

* * *

The blue and red lights from the police cars passing in the other direction just a single street away give the entire world a strange, washed out glow. As the jeep is cruising away from the scene of all of the carnagge Carmilla is left staring out at the world surrounding them, her expression one of deep concentration. Blonde browsare lightly furrowed and her lips are pursed. She eventually bothers to put on her seat belt, but only after some deliberation on more important matters.

The first thing that Carmilla did after they'd gotten moving was take the time to quickly strip out of her identifying gear and bundle it up into her duffel bag. It does mean that she's riding shotgun in a sports bra, but at least when the cops inevitably peer in through the window she isn't going to look like she just had a gunfight with Satan.

Speaking of which, the whoop of a police vehicle pulling out of a nearby alley behind them is unmistakable. By this point they've put several city blocks between themselves and the incident. At least it's just one car with no sign of back up. They are, however, being tailed. The message is unmistakable.

* * *

Domino is not in any better shape.

A change of clothes isn't going to be enough after her run-in with the terminator. She's torn up, bruised, cut, has a fairly trashed foot, and is more than a little bloody all over the place. Then there's the face, something which no one is going to forget short of having a psychic mindwipe.

The Barrett and .300 WinMag are tucked in the back. Riding up front is one of the 'borrowed' SCAR-17s, tucked within easy reach but not meant to be hidden.

The first part of their trip is left in silence, whether comfortable or not. Dom looks fairly grim but stays focused on the drive while the results of their failed mission replay through her mind. Where did they go wrong, where did they underestimate their opponents, and how can they prevent from making the same mistakes twice.

Then comes the siren. Her eyes widen and immediately stare in the mirror but the Jeep's course remains steady. "Probably shoulda seen that coming," is muttered before her attention darts toward Carmilla. "Foot down or guns up?" Stopping is clearly not an option for them.

* * *

Carmilla is definitely less banged up, though she definitely got some bruises and scrapes of her own during her infiltartion of the bunker. One of them, near her heart, is the rounded imprint of what was probably a bullet stopped by body armour. It's only obvious because of the fact the girl is barely dressed from the waist up by this point.

Scorpion has been studying rthe situation in the back of her mind the whole way as well. Details being mulled over and over again, alternate scenarios played back. It's easy to read that sort of uncertainty on someone's face after a fight andponder what they were thinking. If only she hadn't failed to identify the fake—-

They are cruising in the jeep under the pretext of finding somewhere to stop. The cop fell in near an intersection, giving plenty of time to consider options. Not too far ahead, however, is the abandoned lot of a hardware store. They're closed at this time of night, but at least the street lamps are providing some semblance of lighting.

"Neither," Carmilla replies to Domino's question. She looks over at the woman beside her and takes a deep breath, studying her face. "If we run or gun right now we're going to have half of Gotham PD on top of us in two minutes. Just- pull into the lot up ahead and swap seats with me. Trust me."

Insofar as one trusts a mostly nude mercenary who just led you into an ambush, of course.

* * *

Pull over and switch seats? The albino snorts at the thought! "You realize they're going to see us swapping places, right? I doubt even I'm lucky enough to talk my way out of this one."

Maybe if she tried to claim to be a SHIELD agent? They liked that black and white look and being all covered in weapons, didn't they?

Clearly Domino has her reservations about Carmilla's 'plan' but after a dubious look and a slight shrug as if to free herself of any potential blame of what might come out of all of this..she pulls the Jeep into the empty lot.

Then comes the time to make the switch. This is awkward at best on a good day with ideal conditions.

Tonight does not meet any of these conditions.

"Ow..owow -fuck- ow!" hisses the albino. "Hey, watch what you're grabbin'! Aghflipping hell, hang on, my knife's caught in the wheel—dammit!"

By the time they've traded places she's awkwardly sprawled out on her back with legs bent and drawn toward her chest in order to keep all limbs to within her side of the interior. Squirming around to actually sit properly within the seat isn't much more graceful. With the hazy lights in the parking lot Carmilla can probably get a much closer look at some of those injuries, too.

"If this goes sideways you're on your own," she grunts.

* * *

"If this goes sideways I wouldn't blame you for shooting me," Carm replies somewhat drily. A second later the bright, white light of a halogen bulb is evident as it casts over the vehicle. Carmilla places her hands on the steering wheel and leans forward slightly, waiting for the officer to approach. No opportunity for weapons or resistance here. Slow footsteps are evident, strangely echoing against the pavement.

Carm rolls down the window on the driver's side. A tall, lean black woman in her mid twenties is the one who approaches, her expression fairly grim. She shines the light in through the window, bright enough to dazzle the eyes. "License and registration. I was stopping you to say your tail light was out, but I saw you switching seats up there. Have you been drinking tonight?"

A quick glance back at the officer also gives the opportunity to look bat the back seat. With clothes and duffel bag thrown haphazardly around the vehicle the rifles aren't very obvious. On a first glance, at least. Carm shifts her weight slightly, hiding the nearby SCAR as she reaches up to start messing around with the sun visor.

"…Registration… Registration-" Then the glove compartment. It pops open and she produces the document with a soft sigh. "I'm sorry. Lost my head. You know, we did have a couple of beers, but it really wasn't anything…"

Nonplussed, the officer nods. Carmilla holds out the registration to be taken, and when the woman reaches for it… She twitches slightly when the toxin first takes hold. They didn't even actually touch. Then the officer sways awkwardly. "I feel diz-" She sort of spins, stumbling, and collapses down on to the ground beside the car.

"…Right. NOW we need to get the fuck out of here before she wakes up." Carm is already putting the car into gear. "Get you a few stitches, at least." She breathes a soft sigh, sparing another glance for the now fallen officer, who is sleeping uncomfortably nearby. Is it regret for her actions?

Or does Carm, perhaps, regret the fact she just divulged a secret? Not a gauntlet in sight, after all, and no chance for an injection.

* * *

"Noted," comes Domino's equally dry response. For all of the times she could have (SHOULD have) been arrested and hadn't been, there is no way in HELL that she's getting busted now by some deadbeat rookie because of—

—a broken fucking tail light.

Yep, of course she saw them switching seats. Then Carmilla mentions they had been drinking! Again out of -all of the times Dom had been drinking,- the one time someone says 'yes' she is perfectly dry! Instead of facepalming her eyes flicker closed -then- roll.

It's just a miracle they didn't shine a light on her yet. As far as traffic stops go this one is going uncharacteristically well for them. A lot of unseen variables are working out in their favor.

Then the officer collapses.

Dom's eyes open, looking to Scorpion with an incredulous expression. "I am never shaking your hand."

And they're off! Again!

Stitches. Eugh. That's like the -one part- that Domino absolutely hates about getting patched up. That and staples. "Get us somewhere quiet and I can take care of it myself," she grumbles. Then while pulling the handle to recline the seat, "She probably called in the plates, we should find a different ride."

In the meantime Whitey's just going to lie here and feel miserable, thank you.

* * *

"I'll have to live wth that," Carmilla replies to Domin, giving a slow shrug. "I'm just glad that worked." Even she wasn't /entirely/ sure, apparently, judging by her expression. But it seems that it went about how she was hoping, at least. And then they are pulling away, now with Carmilla in the driver's seat.

It isn't too long before the pair are able to pull into a fairly nondescript alley and park their vehicle. Carm opens the door and slides out, booted feet hitting pavement. Boyshorts and a sports bra. Very stylish. She's already reaching for her duffel bag.

"I'm sure she ran the plates but we have a moment before she figures out what was going on when she stopped," Carm states somewhat breathily as she's tugging on a t-shirt. "Are you sure you can get the ones on your back? Really. You might as well let me help," she continues as she's tugging on a pair of jeans.

"I even have something for the pain. If you want it," the smaller woman continues quietly. "Look. I'm sorry about how all of that went down. Anyway, if we cut through the alleys there's a safe spot a few blocks from here. A… Friend owns it. We can hole up there for a bit before we go looking for a new car."

* * *

"I'd say we got lucky," Dom deadpans. The squad car's dash cam would have gotten the whole thing. Nothing violent, but their plates will show up as well as the two calmly driving off after the officer collapsed. Swapping out plates might help but who has the time or desire to do that unless absolutely necessary?

When they roll to a stop Dom's door is pushed open with the help of a foot. She's a bit stiff when muscling herself out of the seat, leaving plenty of dark stains within the upholstry. The wounds on her back are going to be out of her reach and they both know it. Not that this stops her from making some bitchy remark. "Oh sure, no hand-shaking but I'll leave you alone with a sharp instrument and my perfectly exposed back. Can't wait."

The door is roughly slammed closed as Carmilla offers her apology. Dom's looking a but uneasy on her feet but she's still going back for the two big guns. There's no way that she's leaving behind nearly twenty grand worth of hardware for someone else to take! It'll slow her down a lot more but the big guns are coming with her.

Hanging the 'light' fifty off of a shoulder comes with a strained groan. A few blocks she should be able to manage… "Then stop talking and start leading."

* * *

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Just like having you next to me with a gun after how we met," Carmilla replies in a fairly caustic tone. Still, she odesn't look upset. Her expression is one of brooding concerned as she scans over the alley way.

After a second, Carmmoves to take some of the rifles from Domino. If only because carrying all of it is going to be difficult. "Can't have you slowing us down," will be the given reason. But regardless, Carm and her duffel bag are apparently willing to play pack mule. Loaded up as she is it would be pretty difficult to take a shot at anyone, SCARs or no.

Regardless of whether or not the weapons are relinquished the smaller woman sets a fairly brisk pace, staying close to the eaves of the vbuilding and then emerging onto the next alley way. It's only a few blocks of twisting streets and refuse ridden pavement before Carmilla gestures toward the building on their left. It looks much like all of the other rundown tenements in this area. Similar to where Domino originally found her.

After a couple of knocks, Carm produces a set of tension picks and sets to work. The door pops open abruptly and she actually stumbles through it. The girl recovers quickly, but the brief loss of balance is unmistakable. "So. I have to ask. Worst night on the job so far?"

Bags tossed aside Carm is heading right for the little kitchen on the far side of the living room. It's a studio apartment, nothing hidden here. There's even a TV.

* * *

Fair point. Not that Domino is going to out and say it..but it's a fair point. On the other hand she is more than happy to dump a lot of the weight onto Carmilla's shoulders. Not only would it slow them down if it was all up to the albino, just as Carm said, but Dom brought all of that gear in order to help with Carm's personal war. She can darn well shoulder some of the burdeon!

This also allows the pale lady to be a little more alert in keeping eyes and ears on their surroundings. While Carm's picking the lock Dom's running backup with a sidearm in hand ready to burst through the door like it's some FBI raid.

And the Scorpion falters.

Another peculiar glance is sent her way. "Not by a long shot."

She doesn't get into any further detail until they're inside and the door is closed and locked. Then once the perimeter sweep is done.

"Once took a meat hook in the leg," Neena starts to explain while gingerly shedding some of the weight off of her person. "They tried to string me up by the damn thing. Haven't been able to go fishing ever since. Getting run through by a sword wasn't much better. Marilyn Manson had it right. What doesn't kill you is gonna leave a scar."

One after another she unclips the buckles of the complex tactical harness while glancing back to the other meta woman. "Fatigue is starting to catch up to you, kiddo."

* * *

"I don't normally do fatigue," Carmilla repliess shortly, though there's a hint of strain in her voice as she does. "But… I haven't slept for a few days," she admits then, a bit tersely. Likely, she hasn't had a chance to crash properly since the day Domino interrupted her nighttime rituals with a bullet through her window. That would put Carmilla going on four days, though she's not moving like someone on that level of sleep deprivation. Another mystery to be solved.

"That sounds like it was fun," Carm will reply to Domino's storytelling. She emerges to toss the taller mutant a beer.

"I got hit by a car once. And a guy tried to hit me with mustard gas… But no meat hooks yet." A beat. "Anyway. All we have is Coor's. Here." That is all Carm has to say before moving over to the small, threadbare couch to take up a seat, half facing the television and half facing Domino herself. "I'm alright for a little bit longer at least. Let's get you cleaned up before my friend sends me a dry cleaning bill for the blood-" Who would dry clean this terrible industrial carpet- "And I'll take the first watch so you can get some rest."

"Medical kit's in my duffel bag…" Carm stifles a yawn forcibly. It's more visible than actually heard.

* * *

"You need to deal with that before you become a liability," Domino suggests. "If you're planning to make it in this line of work then you have to accept a lot of sleepless nights." Among other things.

Heh. Yeah. 'Fun.' The beer is caught then used to pass a can-salute back to the other woman.

Mustard gas. "No shit? That's an oddity in this age." The look that she gives the can of Coors might suggest a similar viewpoint with the brand that's currently on tap. At least it's cold.

The offer to take first watch is noted but when Carm mentions where the med kit is hiding Neena holds up a hand with a "No, you just sit and relax..I'll get it" with sarcasm dripping from her words. Another kit, albeit a fairly small and limited one, is removed from her own gear before Scorpion's is rooted around for.

Soon enough both kits (and a handgun) are dropped down on the table in front of the couch and the albino is taking a seat, jaw firmly set while unbuckling the tall boot from her injured foot. "Just don't pass out while you're stitching. I'd rather not play a rousing game of 'find the needle.'"

Next to be drawn is the zipper on her armored black skin, followed with a hiss as she carefully peels her arms out of the sleeves to reveal -so much white.- A black bra, possibly of the same material, and a whole lot of bright red smeared across the skin are left behind. The bruises, of which there appear to be quite a few, are already turning vivid angry dark shades of maroon. That machine sure knocked her around a bit. The right shoulder in particular looks like a mess from when the door had slammed into her.

Despite this it seems like she's planning to treat her own foot at the same time Carmilla's poking at her back. No stranger to pain, this gal. Though the whole thing starts off with a heavy dose of Coors.

"Alright, Doc. Let's get this party started."

* * *

"I'm fine." It does seem a moment to sit has done Carmilla lot of good. Her bag wasn't far from the couch, so it isn't really much out of Domino's way to retrieve the medical kit and shift to the table during which Carmilla is—- attending to her gauntlet? It extends from the bracelet she wears on her wrist to cover her arm, and she spends the moments purchased by Domino's inconvenience adjusting it and gritting her teeth. Apparently, the device was damaged at some point.

"Mmf. That's a bit better," the girl relates. "And yeah. Mustard gas. They were trying to test out what I could do. Not that I knew that at the time," Carm explains quietly. "Turns out mustard gas isn't as much of a problem for me as being shot a couple times. I wouldn't recommend trying it yourself. Anyway. I'm not going to pass out while I work on you. Don't worry."

Carmilla takes the time to sterilize the wounds carefully with alcohol, her brows lightly furrowed in clear concentration as she cleans up Domino's back until she can properly see the woman's pale skin. "Your shoulder is dislocated, not broken. Lucky," the smaller merc notes, with no concept of how true that actually is. As Carm's fingers probe Domino's wounds, testing for anything more serious beneath the surface, there is a soothing feeling that accompanies the touch. Something akin to a local anaesthetic. Maybe something Carm is wiping on the wounds? It doesn't kill the pain entirely, but it's a lot better than getting deep stitches without anything at all.

"Almost done." Either Carm works with magic or Dom hardly felt the actual sewing of her back at all. Which would be, to say the least, unusual.

* * *

Here's where the situation becomes a lot more interesting for the likes of Neena. First is the gauntlet, damaged or not. Working on it seems to have Carmilla kind of on edge. Does it hurt her when it isn't working correctly?

Then the next bit. The mustard gas had been a test. This is something which the pale woman is intimately familiar with, though what surprises her more is that -Carmilla- had been subjected to those kinds of tests. To see 'what she could do.' Dom's starting to get a couple of hazy points regarding the Scorpion worked out, including that it seems like she deals with poison and toxin in a similar way to how Neena works with probabilities.

Also she can correctly identify a dislocated shoulder. "So glad you noticed" comes the emotionally dead response. It's spoken through her teeth. While Carmilla's work may somehow not come with the usual amount of pain the raw skin on her foot most certainly hurts to the full extent.

The shoulder can be set later. Heck, she can do that by herself.

At the call of being almost done she hesitates with a look of 'wait, really?' Though there are plenty of other thoughts on her mind. Thoughts which are more important than dwelling on phantom stitches. Her mind has already done the math with what variables it had been fed. When she takes the proverbial shot in the dark it's still given a fair amount of prior guidance.

"It's been a while since I've hung out with a designer-made assassin."

Other than herself.

* * *

"I haven't had the chance," Carmilla admits quietly. Domino will actually feel the girl's hands on her shoulder for a second. The Scorpion seems to be intent on setting the shoulder herself. So far, she seems to know what she is doing when it comes to treating wounds, at least. And the shoulder will hurt a lot less as soon as the smaller woman touches it. It makes having injuries treated a lot more pleasant. It might even come with some doubt she'd done the work, at least until Domino sees the needle, and the blood on Carmilla's hands.

"Got your foot taken care of okay? You can stretch out on the couch. It folds out into a bed." Carm comes to her feet, looking somewhat less shaky than she had before, and moves toward the kitchen sink on the far side of the room. "I'll take a peek outside and make sure we haven't missed anything."

For now, Carm takes the time to let the blood sluice from her small hands. "Anyway. We got some pretty nice hardware out of the deal. Want something to eat? There's got to be… Something. Funions. Ham sandwiches?" She seems to be preparing a sandwich for herself, at least.

* * *

Okay, what..just happened here..? Resetting a shoulder is at no point an enjoyable experience, yet there's an all too familiar *Crk* and a shift within the tendons which comes from getting everything back into alignment..and absolutely none of the agony. It's done and over with before Domino can roll her eyes about being given some help with it.

That's…

Huh.

"You might be closer than you think," she suggests in a tone that's soft enough to suggest that maybe it was only a thought meant to be said out loud for herself and that perhaps she didn't intend for anyone else to overhear.

As for the foot, "As well as can be expected." Now that it appears they're both grounded for a while she starts pulling the other boot off.

It isn't much longer before the albino starts to chuckle. "Jeezus," she mutters. "The other day we were trying to kill one another and now we're acting like a damn team." A bloodied hand is flicked upward. "Sure, whatever. Long as it isn't spoiled, moldy, or rotten." Meanwhile she can fight with the sofa bed.

* * *

"Nah. Bread might be a little stale," Carm replies from where she's standing in the kitchen. She doesn't immediately react to Domino's slip. It might even be unclear if she overheard at all for a time. Just the clatter of a jar of mayonaise, some mustard being laid out, the cutting board getting bumped as the girl works. Just ordinary sounds, like they might have been in any home in the world.

It won't be long before Carmilla joins Domino at the couch, offering her a paper plate with two neatly prepared ham sandwiches on it. Mayo, mustard, some cheddar cheese. Nothing too unusual, really. There's also the aforementioned sack of funions, which gets set on the coffee table.

"Did AIM work on you too?" Down to brass tacks, apparently. "Or was it just…?" She lets that trail off, shifting slightly to meet Domino's eyes for a second before moving on. Wide jade green eyes, bright enough to remind one of just hwo young the woman probably is.

"You don't need to answer that. Just… Well." A brief pause follows. "I guess I wonder sometimes if there's anyone else. I can't be the only one, right?"

No more pretense, it seems. Maybe being shot somehow paradoxically got Carmilla to lower her guard.

* * *

Yep. That's a ham sandwich. Dom doesn't ask any questions, she simply downs another mouthful of beer then switches out to showing one of those sandwiches who's boss. Oftentimes she's just glad to have food, being picky is for people who have the luxury of choice. Or spoiled people who think the deserve such a luxury.

The question does interrupt the feeding frenzy for a moment. She hesitates, slowly pushes the wad of sandwich down, then shakes her head. "Different scene," she says without bothering to share any specifics. Though she does confirm "There are others. Plenty of them. Most don't want you to know."

The Coors is emptied, crushed in a fist, tossed aside. Then the albino's attention shifts back to the Scorpion and locks the hell on. Just..staring for a moment. Silent and motionless. Then comes the thought. "I have another idea on how we can get through the gates."

The sandwich is set aside in favor of her phone. A little poking at the screen then she turns it toward Carmilla. On the screen is a picture of Carm's own face. A fairly impressive dollar value. And the words 'Wanted: Alive.'

Her pale blue stare has gone right back to those brown eyes, as if attempting to pin the girl in place through sheer force of will. "How'd you like to get paid to sucker-punch these fuckers?"

* * *

"I've met a few. Just- not, you know. On "good terms"." Carmilla actually does the air quotes with her fingers, before dropping a hand to pick up half of one of the sandwiches. It's hanging from her fingers when the phone is being presented.

"Man. They could've used a better photo," is Carm's initial response, but the twithc itself causes a twitch near her left eye while she's thinking this over. Domino can see the gears turning behind those brown eyes.

"I mean, I do like getting paid…" That statement belies the intensity of that dark-eyed stare. Carmilla is gauging Domino's intentions, like she can actually read the woman's intentions through meeting that piercing gaze. Finally, she gives a faint nod.

"I know where this is going, and I'm not a fan." Carm grimaces for a second. "Okay. I'm listening. You went through with my crazy ass scheme. So… Lay it on me."

* * *

Domino waits, though it probably doesn't help that she's now watching Carmilla like a hawk might observe a field mouse who stepped out into the open. Carm figures out the general idea on her own but she does miss some of the bigger components. No worry there, it's an easy enough setup to explain.

"I take the contract, make it seem like I had a change of heart and decided to seek out the money. Then I drag your sorry ass to the meeting point, get the funds transferred, then we kill everyone we don't need. Your mark isn't going to be present, but who knows? Maybe we'll get lucky and catch ourselves a keeper. If not, AIM still covers the financial side of our little crusade against their operations."

"We have exactly one shot at this and the window is now. Take it or leave it but after our next step I'm going to be on their shit list, regardless. We may as well make it worth our while. Even split. You're not gonna find a better deal anywhere."

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