2013.05.08 - Conflicts of Interests

"Yo..." Roy Harper greets as he enters the Black Lagoon bar. It takes him a second to register the face behind the bar. "Wintergreen."

"Bard," Wintergreen greets. The white-haired British gentleman puts the glass he was polishing down, placing the towel away. "What can I do for you?"

"Whiskey, on the rocks," Roy says as he sits down. "It's been a hell of a time. Say, have you seen Belikova?"

"Miss Belikova is upstairs, in a meeting. I'd suggest you wait," Wintergreen says as he slides Roy the drink he was asking for.

"Great," sighs Roy, as he pats the picture in his pocket. "So many questions, so little time..."

It's about friggin' time...

Someone else is already at the Black Lagoon, tucked away at a table, all shiny black armored skin and deep purple eyeshield glasses. They still do nothing to hide the alabaster skin and black spot around her left eye but they serve their purpose. They mask where she happens to be looking.

Domino's next shot is downed in a flash before she steps away from the table and approaches Roy from behind, coming in beside him with forearms folding neatly together upon the bar, leaning forward upon her elbows. She doesn't make eye contact yet, watching as your drink gets delivered an instant later. "Bard. Step outside for a moment with me."

It isn't said as a question.

"Oh yes, Domino was looking for you," Wintergreen says, as he picks up the towel, and begins to polish another glass.

"... I can see that," Roy says with a grimace, as he begins to pick up the glass. "Can I at least finish this first?"

Without preamble, Domino grabs Roy's glass, and drains it. "Now you're done," she says, as she starts towards the door.

"Hell..." Roy looks towards Wintergreen. "Can I---"

"I think you had better see what the lady wants," Wintergreen says, making no motion towards the whiskey bottle.

"... Fine," sighs, Roy, as he gets off the stool, and makes towards the outdoor where Domino is waiting.

Domino leads the way around the side of the bar to a narrow, dirty alley beyond, still not looking at you. Now she isn't saying anything, either.

The matter's had days to simmer. Hours upon hours to boil away, burning into her mind. She's run countless scenarios through her head, picked through hundreds of different variables, analyzed the everloving -shit- out of their current situation. Now, it's time to do something about it.

-Whump!- Thook-KaCHAK!

No warning, no tell. In an instant the albino mercenary has spun about on the tread of one boot, hooked the other square against your sternum, driven you back against the wall, and leveled a primed 9mm pistol directly at your face. There she holds you, pinned, under the sights of one of the world's most dangerous women.

"If you wanted to get your dumbass self killed there's easier ways to make it happen, Harp. All you had to do was ask."

Still those eyes stay hidden behind the lenses, though now it's clear that they're staring directly at you. There's something ..different, though. Her usual unruly mop of short black hair looks refined. Her nails look magazine cover-perfect in all of their gloss black upon matte white glory. She looks..well..-good.- More attention than what she tends to put into her appearance.

Caught off-guard by someone he'd trusted, something drops from Roy's pocket, and shatters against the ground, glass fragments tinkling across the ground as he's smashed up against the wall.

He looks cross-eyed at the pistol, before lifting his chin to look at Domino. "What the spirits are you talking about? I've been hanging about all week. One mission, and suddenly you think I want to get myself killed?"

There's a tilt of his head, as Roy studies Domino's face, before a small grin crosses his face. "You do look good. All dolled up...?"

Glass..? Stay focused, Domino.

"One mission to do a little flirting with a local terrorist, get a couple of mango drinks? The -Fuck,- Roy."

Then you're trying to deflect. Already. "We're not talking about me. We're discussing you and your fatal lack of impulse control whenever a nice rack and a concealed weapon are involved. What were you -thinking,- you idiot? Should I be expecting you to ask me out now because I'm the next woman to threaten your life? That bitch wanted to -kill us- and you're asking her out for -drinks?!-"

Wanted. Past-tense?

"Oh," Roy tilts his head. "Uh... yeah? She... I'm guessing we're talking about the killer brunette... she showed up in the bar while you were gone, along with that hired merc of hers, made a few comments, and then left. And then I ran into her again in the marketplace, and we had a follow up talk over drinks and..."

Tilting his head, Roy blinks. "Wait a minute... how -do- you know this? I haven't... did Wintergreen tell you?"

"He didn't have to," Domino promptly cuts in without a sliver of hesitation. "I have my own means. Yes, the 'killer brunette.' She has a name, you know. -The Baroness.- We may have a strong showing around here but without your buddies at SHIELD being anywhere near this shithole country you know who's holding the winning hand? Not us! Did you really think you'd get a chance to score with that psychopath or were you trying to get yourself killed without claiming the responsibility for pulling the trigger? If you wanna flirt with death then c'mon, here's your chance. I'm not standing like this all evening."

Glancing around at the back alley they were in, Roy quirks a smile. "Oh. Well, uh... it seemed like a good idea at the time to find out what she was up to? I mean, she seemed interested in hiring..."

Roy's voice trails off, as he stares at Domino. "Wait, you mean, she got to you already?" Eyes narrow, as Roy reconsiders.

And then Roy jerks his head over to look over Domino's shoulder. "Contact!" he says, widening his eyes.

And if she even -tilts- her head a bit to look, Roy's gun is out of his holster in a hurry, as he demonstrates just -why- Ollie had called him 'Speedy' all those years ago and presses the barrel of the gun to Domino's temple.

"What did she tell you?" Roy says slowly, all business.

Got to you already? What? How would Roy--

Then he yells for Contact.

In that split second Domino's attention is divided -just- enough. For one, she isn't really planning on killing Roy. It's an aggressive bluff, really. That works to his advantage. In beautiful unison he draws his pistol on her and she draws her -second- on a nonexistent threat.

"You son of a bitch," she growls in a low tone.

For as often as she discredits you, sees you as being reckless and impulsive on par with herself without the added benefit of a luck-based power, sometimes she forgets what you're capable of. Such as this scenario. You've managed to remember that she's a neutral element. At the end of the day, where -does- her loyalty stand?

Who the hell knows.

Well, this is a pickle.

"She told me that you're a liability which she now gets to dangle over my head. Congratulations, your rampant flirting just fucked us -both- over."

No hint of laughter is on Roy's face at the moment, just an agent of SHIELD. "And you -believed- her," the ginger agent says softly, with perhaps a hint of disappointment that -almost- seems like a whipped puppy tone.

And then Roy quirks his lips slightly. "Not that I can blame you. She -was- pretty hot, wasn't she?"

See, that -sounded- like Roy.

"But hell, if she thinks I'm a total idiot, so much the better. She might let slip information that might actually be useful. You, on the other hand... well, she -would- think you're dangerous, because you -are-. So she's not going to underestimate you, which means she could have bought you off. So... what did it cost to sell out Contact?"

"Someone backed by an entire military can be pretty fucking convincing, Harper. Of course I believed her, I'm a thorn in her side and now she has leverage."

Which..means..that Domino actually wants to see you live.

"Oh shut up," she snaps back with an irritated roll of her eyes. "My type doesn't extend to mass murderers, though apparently that isn't a problem for you. Maybe we should talk about Jade over drinks sometime?"

"You are a total idiot if you think I sold out Contact," she replies in a level, dangerous tone. "What makes you think she has any bearing in any of this? This situation revolves around -you,- Roy."

And how in the heck is she going to be able to get that point across without telling you things which she doesn't want you to hear..?

"Oh, I know that," Roy grins, if softly. "I just need to know about -how many-."

Running a hand through his hair as the gun stays pressed against Domino's temple, Roy grunts. "Okay, so put that gun down. So she has leverage against you. That's okay, we just have to turn it around on her."

Jade's name gets brought up, and Roy's mood darkens. "Don't mention her, okay? There's a long, complicated history there. Not the least of which, that's Lian's -mother- you're talking about. And me... what, is she basically saying she'll kill -me- if you don't do what -she- wants?"

Roy laughs, a brash confident laugh. "Let her -try-."

"I don't give a shit if you're backed by SHIELD, Roy. I put my guns down when I'm ready to."

Apparently Domino isn't quite ready to yet.

Also, she's hit a nerve. With most anyone else she'd be happy to bear down on that particular stiletto, driving deeper into the very heart of the matter. Fortunately, she happens to have a -little- more professional respect for you. The matter isn't pushed, not even so far as her to say she'll let it drop.

"Watch yourself, Harper. You're gambling with my kind of odds here."

The sidearm leveled at your face shifts until the slide fills her palm instead of the grip, the hammer dropping with a harmless K-tik.

She's ready to lower her weapon now. It's the perfect moment to step down without the matter of just why she's so concerned about your well-being coming into play. Know when to fold, tactical retreat can be a legitimate strategy.

"Oh yeah, I -know- about your kind of odds. Why do you think I keep getting us deeper and deeper?" Roy replies, a cocky firm confident tone in his voice.

For most people, that gun barrel would have quivered already, against Domino, but Roy continues to hold it steady the entire time, with nerves of steel, until Domino retreats, tactically.

"The other gun," Roy says slowly. Because he hasn't forgotten the -second- one she drew on a non-existent Contact.

To that, Dom's eyes slowly narrow behind her dark tinted lenses. "You're -gambling with my power?-"

Realization hits her in an instant. Everything that's happened with the two up to this point. You knew. You knew and you were playing it to your advantage. You were using her this whole flipping time!

Snap!

One arm lashes out, forearm colliding with forearm, bashing your gun hand away from her head in the same instant the other one sweeps back around--

Blam-Blam!

--and places two fresh, jagged 9mm wounds into the surface of the brick wall behind you, each spaced a generous -inch- away from your ears. It's almost over before it begins, the movements operating on a superhuman level.

It doesn't escalate. She's already turned away from you to storm off down the alley. As far as she's concerned this conversation is dead and over.

If you know what's good for you, you'll allow it to lie here and bleed itself out.

Watching Domino go, Roy Harper slumps back against the wall, disengaging the safety with a klik, suddenly feeling much -older- than his age.

His eyes fall down onto the ground, and then he sighs, kneeling down and picking through the debris of what had fallen out of his pocket, before picking up the photograph.

Brushing it off, Roy looks at the picture, of Belikova and of a Chinese man, standing side by side near the Celestial Temple in China, souvenir of the most recent mission.

"Yeah, guess we're all playing each other now, eh, Contact? You got what you wanted, didn't you?"

There was no answer.

But Roy hadn't really expected one.