16538/Holiday Returns

Holiday Returns
Date of Scene:	10 December 2023
Location:	Level 4 - Recreation - The Roost
Synopsis:	Rose and Roy catch up after both being away.
Cast of Characters:	Roy Harper, Rose Wilson

---

Roy Harper has posed:
Sad to say, Roy Harper doesn't get to Gotham as much as he should. As much as he might like.

That's a sad thing to say because really no one should ever want to visit Gotham, let alone live there. It makes Star City look like a dream vacation destination. Hell, it almost makes Hub City look good. But it is also a fact that Roy doesn't really get the chance to drop in on his friends in the Outsiders quite as often as he might like.

And while he would happily do without Gotham, it's worth putting up with from time to retain those ties.

And while it would be nice to think that he is in town just to say hello and catch up with everyone with the holiday season fast approaching, that just isn't really the case. Business brings him here. Heh, who would have ever thought he might be somewhat responsible? Certainly not him.

But not so responsible that he can't make a brief diversion into the Roost. A visit that hasn't exactly borne a whole lot of fruit thus far, roaming through the empty halls of the Outsider's base.

"Heellllllllllloooooooo? Is anyone here?" the redheaded archer calls out before him, stepping out into the rec room. His last stop before he gives up this particular visit as a lost cause. He should probably call first next time.

Rose Wilson has posed:
Turns out the Rec Room isn't entirely deserted, even at this hour. A petite girl wearing cutoff jeans and an oversized t-shirt is standing in the middle of the room, TV remote in one hand an a BIG mug of coffee in the other. The white hair and strap for the eye patch gives her away, as does the profanity as she stabs the buttons repeatedly with her thumb.

"Why. Can't. I. Find. Anything. But. News." she grumbles, throwing in a few 'fucks' and 'goddammits' in for flavor.

Rose hasn't been back at the Roost for, well, a long time. She's been away long enough for her hair to grow out again, but not so long that her room has been cleared out.

Hearing the voice, her head snaps around while managing not to spill her coffee. Yeah, black patch over the left eye is a dead give-away. She grins and jerks her head to invite Roy in. "Hi there, stranger. C'mon in and take a load off." She tosses him the remote as well. "See if you can find some fucking cartoons, too."

Roy Harper has posed:
Look, Roy is not exactly a detective, at least not on par with Tim. But he doesn't exactly need to be a super-genius to suss out that he is neither alone, nor just who it is that happens to be present in the Roost afterall.

Really, that hwite hair is probably enough. The eyepatch certainly seals the deal. And that steady stream of profanity certainly helps to confirm the ID beyond any reasonable doubt. She might have been away for awhile.

But not that long.

"Rose!" the redheaded archer exclaims, throwing his arms into the air as a grin flickers over his expression. "You're probably about the last person I expected to run into 'round these parts," he confesses, one hand reaching out, snagging the tossed remote out of midair and casually gesturing towards the television with it, clicking a button.

And there, low and behold, cartoons.

Bullseye. Right on the mask. Though the fact that he can so quickly find cartoons probably says a little something about the redhead.

Planting one hand on the back of the couch, Roy rather casually hurdles over it, falling down amongst the cushions with the joy and certainty of someone that most definitely did not pay for anything in this place and who certainly couldn't imagine paying for a replacement.

So the responsibility thing is all relative.

"What have you been up to? I trust you've been leaving a trail of broken hearts and broken bodies wherever you've been?"

Rose Wilson has posed:
Rose Wilson's grin broadens, and she glances over at the TV once he is successful. "Achievement unlocked!" she declares, padding over without so much a ripple in the coffee mug. Gliding over to the sofa, she takes another slurp of the coffee before plopping down beside him.

"What? Who? Me?" she replies, with faux-innocence when he talks about her habit of... breaking... things. Stretching out her bare legs, she props her feet on the coffee table and wiggles her toes.

"By the way, if you ever have the opportunity to train with some obscure martial arts master in Tibet, don't. It's really fucking cold there and the food is bad."

Roy Harper has posed:
That seems like some damn sage advice and never let it be said that Roy is adverse from taking good advice from people who might know a little more on the subject then him.

When he feels like it at least. Otherwise he can be just as stubborn as any of them, plunging on ahead with his ill-advised ventures, regardless of the risk. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

A sharp bark of laughter greets her suggestion as he gets comfy, sprawling out indolantly as well, only giving the television and the animated spectacle playing out on that big screen some token attention. "Hahaha. That sound horrible," he agrees. "I bet the internet service is shit up there too. Do they make you take a vow of silence too? Because I don't do well with silence. Like at all," he suggests.

The remote is casually flipped back to her -- she was here first afterall -- and a faint smirk slides over his expression. "Seems like a much better idea to just say that you trained with legendary martial artists. And then if anyone questions you just stick an arrow in them," he says, glancing towards her, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. "Or a sword."

"To each their own." Roy's not a snob. All weapons have their time and place.

Rose Wilson has posed:
Rose Wilson slips her fingers through the loop on the mug, cradling it in one hand. The remote is tossed further over on the sofa, but still within reach.

"Yeah, it was a pretty uptight place. No internet, no liquor, no cigarettes, no talking. Not even during lessons. Everything was done with visual cues."

Of course with Rose's eidetic memory, that wasn't very much of a problem.

"Also..." The little blonde swings one bare leg across Roy's lap, then the other after it to cross her feet at the ankles. "... it goes without saying that sex was off the table."

Roy Harper has posed:
Roy Harper Jr. has done a great many things over the years. Some brave. Some foolish. Most without a ton of thought ahead of time. But he certainly has never trained with an order of martial arts masters, obscure or otherwise, in the mountains of Tibet or otherwise.

If he had though, he certainly would imagine that one of the things that would be off the table would probably be sex. Which, of course, seems like an extremely excellent reason not to bother travelling around the world seeking out martial arts masters. There's plenty of people around these parts who can teach one to fight.

And they don't usually care too much how you spend your down time. Roy finds that a highly desirable trait in a mentor.

"You poor dear!" the redheaded archer says in mock shock, laying a hand on that bare leg as it drapes across him, fingers playing over the calf of it. "No internet, no liquor, no sex. Was this a dojo or a monastery? I hope they had some pretty freakin' amazing techniques to teach at least," he says, shaking his head slowly.

"And that you kicked their ass with them on your way out."

Gratitude is all well and good. But there are limits.

Rose Wilson has posed:
Rose Wilson grins playfully, wiggling her toes when his fingers explore along her calf. "The -mature- side of me..." She interrupts that thought to shoot him an I-dare-you-to-disagree-with-me look. "... would say that what I learned was worth it. That I'm a better person for having spent the time there. Blah-blah-blah." She shrugs, taking another slurp of coffee.

"To be fair, I -did- learn some new techniques. I'll have to show you sometime." Not only is Roy skilled at hand-to-hand, but he's also one of the few... besides Damian... who shares Rose's appreciation for swords. Even if it's not as much as he likes bows.

"A few years ago I would've burned the place to the ground on my way out." she adds off-handedly. Looking at him with pursed lips, she asks. "Does this mean I -am- growing up?"

Roy Harper has posed:
Maturity can come from surprising places.

A few years ago Roy really could not have conceived of the idea that he would work with the DEA as a federal officer, going after the drug dealers that so changed his life. The idea seemed ludicruous. Absurd. But here he is now, a badge carrying officer of the law and liason to SHIELD of all organizations. If he can do the semi-grown up thing, well, that would suggest that just about anyone is capable of it.

Still, that look does provoke a grin from him before he purses his lips, looking very much like he might choose to interrupt her. Maybe because he has managed to get a little good sense himself over the past few years.

Maybe he's a little distracted by that leg.

"Sounds like it might have been worth the sacrifice then," he conceeds wryly. "Not that I would have traded places with you. Not on your best day," he points out drily, lips still curved into that little smirk.

"And I'll hold you to that promise. I don't quite match you with a blade, but I do like to keep my hand in it. Never know when it might come in handy." There's something to be said for being a jack of all trades. Maybe even a master of a few.

"Hey, it's me you're talking to. It probably does, at least a little," he conceeds. "Look at you, roaming off and coming back a big girl," he says with a wink. "Just don't leave me totally behind. I don't want to be the only one around these parts committed to making bad decisions and doing reckless things. It's a noble tradition and it should be upheld by more then just me," he asserts slyly.

Rose Wilson has posed:
Rose Wilson -knows- he's distracted by the leg, of course, which is why she rolls her ankle and flexes it a little. She sips her coffee, focusing on him instead of the cartoons for a bit. After a bit she chuckles softly.

"Roy, I think you're one of the few people who really understands me." And it's true. They both have a 'colored' past, after all. They're both reckless and both make bad decisions.

"Besides. If it weren't for you, I'd still be watching the news." Rose wriggles forward a bit and leans in, stretching to -just- manage a peck on the cheek.

Roy Harper has posed:
There is something to be said for making mistakes.

It certainly might not be obvious to all, especially to those that don't make them. That don't take the dumb chances. Those that don't choose to indulge themselves, maybe when they shouldn't. But few things are better teachers then a mistake made and being forced to deal with the consequences. The repercussions.

It might not be fun, but when it comes to learning experiences it sure the heck is valuable.

Let others play at being perfect. Roy has gained a certain measure of contentment in being what he is and making no apologies for that particular fact. Grinning, fingers trace down over that ankle, finding the sole of that foot and beginning to work it over lazily. "High praise indeed. But you make a pretty good point. We're a little more on the same wavelength then some of our friends," he admits.

"And that's true. Imagine you stuck here, watching the gloomy Gotham news, cursing up a storm and in danger of spilling your coffee. You totally owe me. Big time," he agrees, perking a brow as she manages to demonstrate a little of that flexibility too.

"So, now that you're back are we going to get the pleasure of your company for a bit? Or do you have more repressive monks that you need to learn the latest and greatest in fighting technniques from?"

Rose Wilson has posed:
Rose is another one who makes no apologies for who she is or how she got to this point in her life. It's a bond she shares with Roy. Both hands cradle the coffee and she drinks deeply, her foot rolling lazily as his fingers explore.

She does a little giggle-snort in her coffee when he finds a particularly ticklish spot on the sole of her foot, but there's only a little coffee left at this point.

"More training with monks? Yeah, that's not gonna happen." she quips back. Arching and leaning over, she sets the mug on the coffee table before wriggling and scooting to sit more properly across his lap, now. Both arms drape over Roy's shoulders.

"So you find my company pleasant, do you? I hope so, because I intend to share the experience that is Rose Wilson, Ravager, for quite a while."

Roy Harper has posed:
Sometimes you just need to get away from it all. Even if that means falling out of touch with old friends.

Of course that also means that the many happy returns can sometimes be that much more sweet, right? Not too shabby at all, all things considered. And while, in Roy's experience at least, he is well aware that some homecomings can be something of a letdown, he is fairly certain that in this instance, at least, nothing is likely to be further from the truth.

The animated hijinx playing out on the high definition screen in front of them might be suitably amusing, but they are increasingly relegated to the background and when she slips onto his lap good and proper, Roy flashes that roguish grin once again, his own arm sliding around her back. Just to help her get comfy of course.

"The Rose Wilson, Ravager experience huh? Sounds pretty intriguing to me," he admits archly, winking at the white-haired woman playfully. "Glad to hear that there's not going to be any monks looking to sap all the fun out of your life in the near future. Because I think you and I? We can probably find all sorts of mischief to get up."

Rose Wilson has posed:
Rose Wilson, Ravager, keeps her arms draped over his shoulders and wriggles a little upon his lap to get more comfy. "Oh it's a very intriguing experience. Check the reviews. 4.7 stars out of 5." she replies, managing a semi-sincere expression.

Rose has drifted in and out of the group, hanging out seriously with Con and even dating Tim for a while. "You know I've got your back anytime, Roy, and I mean that." No faux-sincerity this time. Her weight shifts, and those fingers against her back find bare skin above the waist of her shorts.

Rose leans in very close, then, lips brushing his ear. "I won't forget that I owe you one, either. And I always pay my debts."