16991/Challenge Accepted!

Challenge Accepted!
Date of Scene:	23 January 2024
Location:	Abandoned Amusement Park - Amusement Mile
Synopsis:	Another meeting between Flatline and Ravager results in no violence, yet again!
Cast of Characters:	Rose Wilson, Flatline

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Rose Wilson has posed:
Rose Wilson received Flatline's texted challenge and she responded a few hours later. 'Carson's Wonderland Park on the Amusement Mile'. Of course the park itself, while abandoned, is still a pretty big place. But that's the fun of it, right?

Ravager may be sporting to respond to Flatline's challenge, but she isn't stupid enough to name a specific place and wait there like a target. Especially not with someone who admitted she'd be likely to stab someone in the back.

Flatline has posed:
    OR WOULD SHE?

    Flatline's arrival is heralded by the sound of a motorcycle, and the rattle of chain-link as she hops a fence behind a burned-out hotdog stand, and makes her way quietly along the edge of the park, nonchalant, hoodie on against the cold. She's still sporting her skull-face make-up, her white hair caught in the wind coming off the ocean not far away from the amusement mile, her hands in her pockets.

    She gives a little hum of some poppy tune as she does, hopping on an invisible hopscotch court in a playful manner as she pauses.

    "Cat House, huh?"

Rose Wilson has posed:
The tactical part of Rose's brain is in high gear now. She kept slowly moving around from attraction to attraction until she heard the motorcycle's approach. For her part, she's mostly stayed near the center of the park, and now she moves closer to the sounds.

"Meow." she offers, from one end of Arcade Alley. She's looking across open ground over towards the Cat House, a wry smile on her lips.

Flatline has posed:
    "Raaaaaaavager." Flatline draws out Rose's nom d' morte as she turns to regard her, shiny black lips curled into a smile, and she gives a wave to show she's got nothing in her right hand, and she gives a huff of breath out as she hops up and down on her feet.

    "So at a second hang out if we don't try to kill each other, does this mean we're kinda friends, or are you still trying to figure me out? 'Cause I promise, I'm boring." she gives a toothy grin.

Rose Wilson has posed:
Ravager shrugs at the question, pacing slowly closer. "You're the one who called for a duel, Flatline, but I'm wondering whether it's really some repressed urge for attention seeking an unhealthy outlet."

"But I don't have my swords drawn at the moment, so I'd say that's an encouraging sign." All the same, she IS wearing them. Along with a pistol. "But you say you're boring and there's nothing to figure out, so that does make me believe you're looking for a fight."

Flatline has posed:
    "If I want to look for a fight, it's not gonna be with you. Not a serious one anyway. You're *way* out of my league." Flatline gives a laugh as she offers a placating complement. "And it's a meme. Y'know... or maybe you don't. Which is fine." Flatline states as she hops again on her sneaker-clad feet. "So for everyone older than me here, a /meme/ is an image or audio clip referencing pop culture --" Flatline states, regarding Rose with curiosity, her pinkish eyes going to her weapons. Flatline doesn't have any visible.

Rose Wilson has posed:
Ravager smirks at that and lets out a short laugh, reaching a certain distance before her approach turns into a slow circling. "Well if you're not looking for one, you should stop asking for one." she replies. "Some people take that shit seriously. Honor, challenge, duel etiquette, and all that." Her movements are smooth and relaxed, gloved fingers not so much as twitching. "And believe it or not, your generation didn't invent either the internet or memes." A few more steps, or rather side-steps, as Rose moves slowly in the pattern of a Spanish dueling circle. "So if you're not looking for a fight, what is it?" Rose thinks she knows, but she wants to hear it.

Flatline has posed:
    "I dunno. I got bored in New York and wanted to see if one of the Bats I stabbed would show up. I'm up to two now. The one who had the sword of the Heir of the Demon and then some very punchy one. So not really looking for a fight." Flatline gives a small grin. She keeps her gaze on Rose, her eyebrows lifting up.

    "Why? Are *you* looking for a fight? I mean, obviously if you go looking for a fight you find one, but it'd be kind of a shame since I don't think either of us would get any benefit of the other one being killed." Flatline gives a dry smile.

    "All right, /I/ would benefit, but then where would I be? You'd be dead and then people'd get mad at *me* for doing it in Gotham City."

Rose Wilson has posed:
Ravager pauses in the slow-moving circle, cocking a hip to one side and folding both arms over her chest. "So you're just here baiting the Bats." she replies, her grin becoming amused. "Let me give you a hint, though: in Gotham, you don't always get to choose who you fight and who you don't. Could be the only reason I haven't killed you yet is because I haven't been paid to."

Her brows would waggle, if the mask didn't hide the motion. "And no, I'm really just curious what your angle is here. And before you deny it, everyone in Gotham has an angle. Some people's angles have angles. But in any case, you'll find I don't goad as easily as those boys."

Flatline has posed:
    "That's because I'm not trying to goad you." Flatline gives a bright grin at that statement, sticking her hands back in her pockets. "And like I said, I was bored. I have questions. Like how that bat had an al Ghul sword. Like why you decided to try an' meet up with me if you're not being paid to kill me, and why you're still letting me *talk*." Flatline shrugs. "'Cause by if this was my boss's turf in Japan at least three goons would be lying dead around you. Probably. I mean, I take them on pretty easily, and you're better than me, right?"

Rose Wilson has posed:
Ravager smirks a the last, her stance not shifting. "So you keep telling me." she replies. "But you're assuming that I play turf games, and I really don't. Honor and tradition? Those are luxuries for those who don't have to work for a living." Another shrug. "But if you're trying to give me a reason to kill you, just keep talking. I'm sure we'll be able to come up with something."

Rose changes the subject, then. "As for the sword and the Bat, that's a really good question. Ms. al Ghul would've probably paid you well for it, of course, but you would've at least lost a hand in return. They are -very- traditional in her part of the world when it comes to thieves."

Flatline has posed:
    "I didn't steal it from the al Ghul. I took it from a Bat. Unless the Bat is *also* an al Ghul. Which would make things very, very interesting." Flatline states, and she shrugs her shoulders. "Honor and tradition kinda matter. Otherwise what's stopping us from stealing candy bars at every bodega while we're pettin' cats? Do you do Christmas Trees? Tradition! And GERMAN at that!" Flatline sounds aghast, putting her hand to her chest lightly before she swings up on a banana stand and sits on the counter. She reaches into her pockets, and pulls out a pack of bubblegum -- bright pink raspberry flavor -- and she offers it to Ravager.

    "And would kind of prefer not dying. My boss isn't nice about that sort of thing, but probably would just be like 'oh no, Flatline -- but anyway'--" she gives a roll of her eyes. "Mentors, am I right?"

Rose Wilson has posed:
Ravager chuckles again. "You didn't steal it? Tell that to the al Ghul? I doubt she'd really care -how- you got it." Ravager unfolds her arms, then, and she steps close to accept the offered gum.

"Honor and tradition get put on the shelf when you're an assassin." she replies, picking out a piece of gum and offering it back. Still holding the wrapped gum between thumb and forefinger, she tilts her head. "What do you care if you die, really? I mean, can't your mentor resurrect you or something?"

Flatline has posed:
    "How many bad guys care that much about their sidekicks?" Flatline asks casually with a shrug, regarding her own existence.

    "And I mean, I ran into Talia al Ghul. She's the one who told me it belonged to the heir. And as no League assassins have tried to take me out yet it seems like she either doesn't care, or the heir's expected to get it back on their own. So." FLatline gives a shrug, accepting the pack of gum back, plucking a piece out and unwrapping it, she pops it in her mouth nonchalantly.

    "No one really cares if /I/ live or die."

Rose Wilson has posed:
Ravager keeps her own piece of gum wrapped, toying with it while they talk. She chuckles at the observation about Talia. "So congratulations, it looks like you're going to be the boss fight in a quest." she offers. "But don't underestimate mentors, really. The Bat cares so much about sidekicks that he's picked up a small herd of them. Or maybe he has other reasons, who knows? I know, he's technically one of the good guys, but have you ever fought him? He doesn't fight like a good guy."

Apparently she knows from experience.

"The real question is whether or not -you- care if you live or die."

Flatline has posed:
    "The Bat, I heard, never really loses. What can you learn from that?" Flatline asks with a small shrug. "And my boss isn't the Bat. He's not gonna bail me out if I get over my head or if I die, and that suits me just fine." Flatline states, her head held high, and then her shoulders slack. Her eyes remain with Rose in her peripheral, not completely trusting the other assassin, but she takes out a compact. It's an old make-up compact that one might use to powder their nose and check their eyeliner, and she flicks it open a moment, then flicks it closed.

    "Like I said, no one really cares if I live or die. Not my boss, not the other henchmen, not even me. After all, what's this kinda life worth anyway?" she asks, her lips still propped up in a smile.

    "I've always been fascinated with Death. Eventually, it will come for me."

Rose Wilson has posed:
"I prefer to postpone that meeting." Ravager replies softly, on the subject of meeting Death. "My mentor..." okay, her father "... used to say that not caring makes you reckless, and reckless makes you dead." She tucks the wrapped bubblegum into her belt, then. "The Bat loses, alright, but only the short battles. He plays a long game, and the only way to beat him is to plan farther ahead."

"The gum, for instance, could've been a bonafide offer and it probably was. Or you could've injected a paralytic into the first piece, taking the second piece for yourself and making it look harmless."

"I might have been able to metabolize the toxin before you killed me, or maybe not. But I -respect- Death, so I don't take chances. Back when I was reckless, I would've taken the gum without hesitation."

Flatline has posed:
    "Could've." Flatline admits, "I would have gone with something that clings to the mucous membranes in your throat personally, passed through to paralyze your lungs, diaphram and stomach. Maybe some sort of neurochemical to make you start seeing things that aren't there for distraction but..." she hops off the banana stand, and she puts her arms above her head, stretching her shoulders.

    "It would have been useless besides that even. I'm not going to kill the closest thing I have to an actual friend."

Rose Wilson has posed:
Ravager laughs at that, hands on her hips. "Y'know, some people would say you need to get out more if you count someone like me among your friends." she replies. "I've done enough drugs in my time to know the difference between being on a bad trip and being poisoned, in any case. I've fought when I was high."

Ravager eases up to sit on the edge of a ticket counter, regarding Flatline. "So it comes back around to that, then. You don't have any friends, and I haven't killed you yet. I suppose I shoulder part of the blame in this one."

Flatline has posed:
    "Nope. No friends. The whole 'fascination with death' is kinda a turnoff for a lot of people. And that's okay, because people like us? Don't need friends. Or attachments. Something that can be used against us to make us even pause, because if we pause -- shloop!" she makes the onomatopoeia of something being cut in a short moment, and then in a smooth movement there's a knife in her hand, glittering in the cold light of the abandoned theme park.

    "And you know, not in a rush for that meeting."

Rose Wilson has posed:
Ravager has a knife out almost the same moment. It's a reflex, and hers are apparently quite good. "That's the real problem with friends, isn't it? Oh there are good parts, to be true. And the F-word..."

Ravager grins almost fiercely at the last. "F for Fun, of course." She slips her combat knife back into a boot top.

Flatline has posed:
    "Fsh. For fun. Of course. Something fun." Flatline states, her knife disappearing back into her hoodie.

    "Have a good night, Ravager. Maybe sometime we could go to the mall instead of someplace so gloomy. Just need to figure out when Hot Topic's next big sale is~." she lilts, and then she disappears between a couple of stands, and with the rustle of chainlink, Flatline is away.