2911/...said the fly to the spider.

...said the fly to the spider.
Date of Scene:	14 August 2020
Location:	Verdant - Abandoned Warehouse
Synopsis:	Spiders eat flies, even when they're invited guests.
Cast of Characters:	Thea Queen, Slade Wilson

---

Thea Queen has posed:
It's actually a quiet day. Construction is going on slowly but surely, and the warehouse is beginning to take on aspects of the 'Verdant'. Sheetrock is going up, the office space upstairs is coming together nicely. There are holes in the cement where electrical conduits will be placed, and, well... Thea's happy. It's become her home away from home in many ways.

The construction workers are only now filing out, getting ready to enjoy the weather and weekend with the family. Payday always helps the mood, of course, and Thea's always good for her bills. (Even if she has to ask Mother.)

So, the men have departed, and as the silence fills the warehouse, Thea strolls slowly towards a large generator/boom box merging only to pick it up to set it down where her DJ booth will be. A plug is sought, and straightening up from her brief crouch, flips a switch on the player and music fills the room, echoing through each corner. It's P!nk, the .. non-radio 'Perfect', which gains a smile from the youngest of the Queen clan. She's casual today; midriff as a nod to the season, pair of jeans and this time, a pair of flat Vans. Short bobbed hair is pinned up and away from blue eyes more for utility than looks, but with her? Still stylish.

Slade Wilson has posed:
Slade Wilson's work had brought him briefly near Starling City, or near enough that he felt safe making a stop. First to his safehouse in the city, to acquire a certain something, and then he's off to the Verdant. He's dressed down to khakis, a navy polo, and a pair of casual brown leather clothes. Fairly "dressed down" for him, but even so not the type you normally see roaming this neighborhood. He hops out of a nondescript (and NOT exceptionally expensive-looking) SUV, which drives off for the time being. And with a rectangular parcel held in one hand, he moves to step inside the being-converted warehouse, giving a nod to a couple workers as they pass by near the entrance.

He pauses just inside the doorway, looking around a few moments, spotting Thea before he calls out:

"I guess I found the right place."

Thea Queen has posed:
Thea looks up from her wandering, and cants her head, her expression turning curious. There's a smile there, though.. and in the next moment, turns her music down before crossing the distance to the door to meet and greet. "Mr. Slade," even though she knows it's his first name, she actually never learned his family name. "You did," and she looks pleased in it. Pride of ownership, it can be read all over the youthful face.

"Come in.." There's a quick glance outside, a search up and down the street, before she looks back at him, ready to make sure the door is closed behind them. "I was wondering if you'd take me up on my invitation." There's a pause and she lifts her head up, to the side, her gaze moving from spot to spot in the large, spacious room. "It's coming along. Once I get the electricity in the floor and re-cemented, we can really get moving on the bar, the DJ station.."

Slade Wilson has posed:
Slade does indeed make sure the door is closed behind him, and steps further inside, extending the parcel towards Thea, "Well, it may be a bit premature, but you can either put this on your top shelf or consider it a personal housewarming gift. That's entirely up to you." The box itself is nondescript, but inside, Thea will find a decanter of Macallan "M" 1824 Masters Series. You know, just a $7K bottle of Scotch between friends. "But yes, I was in the area...thought I might see how things are coming along." He looks about, smiling a touch wryly, "Though I can't exactly say I'm an expert on club design."

Thea Queen has posed:
There's a soft 'oooh' that forms, more in her expression than the breathed vowel, but the effect is the same. She takes the package, and leans forward to press a kiss on Slade's cheek; very upscale, mind, before she's ready to open the package. Her brows rise, and again, words aren't really forming before finally, "Oh, this is.." Yes, she does recognize the good stuff, to her credit! Partially genetics, perhaps, and partially due to the fact she's been working very hard and has learned her quality goods.

Her face is brighter, blue eyes gleam and she rocks her head back slightly to take in the man. There's a tight-lipped, happy smile before, "Thank you. And for luck, we'll share the first taste from it when I open." So it shall be!

The package is set on a table, not far from her watchful gaze, even though her workers have left for the day. Now, she shoves a few fingers into almost non-existant pockets and head-tilts before she nods her acknowledgment. "It is." An easy statement. "I can give you the quick tour. I mean, it's a giant warehose, but it's coming together."

Whether he wanted it or not, Thea's willing. "Office upstairs. DJ spot," she's pulled a hand out and gestures with it lightly, "there. Under the office." The second floor office spot is a loft that holds a good view of the entire room. Two wrought iron staircases up.. windows to the back of the office area.

"Then, dance floor. Tables.. bar.."

Slade Wilson has posed:
"I'll hold you to that." Slade comments with a slight grin of his own. His good eye follows Thea's gestures to the described areas, taking it all in, before finally giving a slight nod, "Well, it seems as though you're certainly on top of all this." There's a bit of a chuckle, "I'd imagine a lot of people are saying you're a dreamer, opening it in the middle of the Glades. But nobody ever broke the mold by playing it safe."

Thea Queen has posed:
Thea's stepped a couple of steps away in the 'showing off the place' maneuver, and bringing her hands out a little, gestures generally in the space. "People are..." and she holds her breath a moment before she laughs, the sound throaty, "Not everyone is happy. But," and she holds up a finger, "I am planning on creating at least 50 jobs. And that's not to mention the area around us. The restaurants, the little places." She's worked out her marketing, certainly. And she loves the location, even if she may not love all of her neighbors.

"And hopefully," her voice lowers a little, "anyone who doesn't like it will have to learn to live with it."

Slade Wilson has posed:
"Ha! That's the spirit." Slade chuckles, "So you're not going into this blind. Not that I thought you had, but still. I'm going to bet that everyone is underestimating you." He looks amused a moment, "And they're going to be eating crow in a few years." He leans back against a sheet-rock wall, heedless that it might get some dust on his dark-blue polo. His smile fades to something more considering, before he speaks once more.

"Miss Queen...am I correct in that you had never heard of me before we met at the Hellfire Club?"

Thea Queen has posed:
The encouragement makes the younger Queen smile; it's one thing to have a brother's approval, but to hear it from someone else? Someone who doesn't necessarily have a vested interest in it? She's pleased, and once her hands are down, she's ready to take a few steps towards a table to perch. Slade moves first, however, and her head cants as she watches his progress, curiosity striking the blue eyes again.

Brows rise, and there's a flicker of confusion on her face for a moment before, "Yes," she says slowly. "Why?" If she was lying, she's //very// good at it. Her head cants and she takes a couple of steps out to the side, but it's just apparently to lean on a support pole that's sunk into the concrete. "I .. I wasn't even really aware of the club until recently. Wasn't something that my father wanted me to know about, apparently?" Who could blame Robert, even if her hard partying happened //after// he'd died.

Slade Wilson has posed:
Slade takes in a deep breath, and lets it out in a sigh. "I had that impression. I admit I'm a bit...surprised...your brother never mentioned me. Or maybe not." Slade shrugs a shoulder, "I have no interest in concealing truths from you, Thea, whether they're ugly or not, so forgive me, but I'm likely about to say some things that are going to be difficult to hear."

There's a pause, letting that sink in before Slade just dives right in: "I was with your brother on Lianyu, for a time. I trained him, though I imagine he's had plenty more since. There's a long and sordid tale behind what I was /doing/ on the Island, but the portion that matters most to you is this: Robert Queen didn't go down with the ship. He was found by terrorists and subjected to torture and starvation. Oliver and I found him and freed him, but he was dying...three-quarters starved and riddled with blood poisoning from infections, and we didn't have any medicine to treat him. Oliver insisted we take him with us...an understandable emotional reaction. But he would have slowed us down to the point that the terrorists would have overtaken us."

Slade frowns, not exactly regretful but at least giving the appearance it's not the most pleasant memory. "So I made the choice. He might have had another day or two to live...I'm no doctor but I've seen those kinds of infections before. Two days of agony and delirium...or an end to his suffering...quick and painless. I gave him the latter. Your brother...didn't take it well, to put it mildly." He meets Thea's gaze evenly, "I'm not sorry for taking the action, but I /am/ sorry for your loss. I didn't really have any chance to know Robert Queen, but between you and Oliver he seems like he was probably a decent father, if nothing else."

Thea Queen has posed:
Thea stands still as there is something of a change in tenor, and as the story begins, her eyes widen as her jaw sets and her features fall. Her head shakes, and it's both in brief acknowledgment of what is said as well as denial. "No.. no, he never told me," and her voice is whisper.

In the next breath, Thea can feel her indignation rising; she'd never been told. Nothing.. not a word.

It's the rest of the story that has her frozen to her spot, her expression turning to a cavalcade of emotions; all dark and hurt. Anger, physical pain, betrayal, all play on her face. Her father.. and Ollie.. and this man in front of her. She shakes her head again, not wanting to hear it, and as quickly as the tears come, they're wiped away with a vicious backhand. She takes a step back, but it's not in fear. She's coming to that stage of rational/irrational anger where all she wants to do is lash out at the world. The loss all over again, and the abandonment, and it's not fair. It's not right. Eventually she finds her voice, and all those emotions echo within the few words,

"No! That's not true!" It can't be, right? "He.. he.. he drowned in the accident!" (It WAS an accident, right?) Her voice rises in intensity, and those wide blues are focused on the man, and suddenly, she's spinning around to look for something to throw at him. A book. Some tools. Anything she can find close at hand.

"You killed him!" It goes from denial to accusation, and in that moment, she's cast adrift, just like those in that liferaft. "You killed him! How //could// you?!" He'd actually explained it, but there's that rational bit that simply isn't registering all of it. And mercy killing?

"How could you?!"

Slade Wilson has posed:
Not a lot on hand...except that $7,000 bottle of scotch, which in Thea's fury isn't any less a throwable object. And so it is flung, but lest liquor aficionados feel their hearts plummet, Slade reaches out with beyond-human reflexes and catches the bottle in flight, nary spilling a drop.

"That would've been a damn tragedy." He mutters, setting the bottle aside for the time being.

"There's one other thing. I'm the masked gentleman you encountered a couple of weeks ago. In the interest of full disclosure, you ought to know that as well. Merlyn and I are...professional acquaintances." There's a brief pause before he adds, "Let me be clear that I didn't know who you were when I met you at the Hellfire Club. This hasn't been any design on the part of Merlyn or myself. But I felt like you deserved the truth of things, if no one else had given it to you."

He hasn't answered her question, but really, what answer could he possibly give that would make it hurt any less?

"I made sure there was no suffering." It's not a protest, there's nothing defensive in his tone, just a degree of certainty. "But I understand you'd probably prefer I leave. I can see myself out...."

Thea Queen has posed:
In her blind fury to lash out with whatever she can get her hands on, that scotch is as good as anything else in reach. Thea doesn't have a bow in reach, no arrows, she doesn't have throwing knives, though that would assume she's got her wits about her that she'd even consider something like that in this moment. Papers are flying, anything within arms length is strewn about her, littering the floor.

Then there's the next revelation, and the smell of blood and vomit rises in the memories of that night, and she freezes again, staring at Slade, staring through him as nausea rises to her throat. Merlyn... the one that..

Thea doesn't retreat, doesn't run away to go to ground with this new round of information. Instead, with wide blue eyes, her gaze darts around the room, and locks on something that maybe she can use? A toolbox is there with tools.

She's quick, one reason for her nickname from her brother, and grabbing a hammer in hand, instead of standing there and threatening him with it, she runs towards him to attack him with it brandished.

"Get out!" is yelled, and her voice is choked with the sound of a young woman who no longer lives in the world she thought she had. She raises her arm to strike him, her whole manner like an injured wild animal trying to cause the bigger animal to leave so she can try to either lick her wounds or die from the attack.

Either way?

"Get out!!"

Slade Wilson has posed:
Thea may be Speedy, literally and figuratively, but Slade's own speed and reflexes are beyond human limits. He bobs and weaves away from one, two, three of those hammer-blows, and though his expression is focused the motion doesn't seem exceptionally difficult for him. The fourth strike? He reaches out and catches her wrist with one hand, the other in a close defensive posture to ward off, say, the clawing of nails from the other hand, or knees and kicks below the waist...he does, of course, shift his hips perpendicular to her to keep certain things from being an easy target.

The shove he gives is almost weirdly gentle, but still enough to stagger her back a couple meters.

"I can leave, or you can get this out of your system. You tell me."

Thea Queen has posed:
It's almost laughably easy the way he moves and deflects. Easy enough, when one is defending. Remarkably enough, going for the tender spots isn't one that Thea usually goes to. Too predictable, and when they're fixated on protecting that area, she goes for others.

When in her right mind.

When she's pushed back, Thea actually manages to keep her footing. The hammer is gone from her hands again, and she shakes her head quickly, bobbed hair moving with the motion. "Get out," is swallowed back with bile as she fights the rising nausea again.

She's not looking for weapons anymore, but she does look as if she's going to underscore her words with a rush again. Thea doesn't give up.. not easily, or quickly.

The youngest Queen comes in again, this time she's a little more controlled, looking for a quick sweep to the knee as she pushes forward with a strike. It'll be the only time, though, that she's got a modicum of control, because any counter is.. desperate. Angry. Tears of anger, frustration and loss are sliding down her cheek, messing up her mascara. The man before her killed her father, is in league with Merlyn, and..

"Get out!"

Slade Wilson has posed:
Slade's own leg darts out in a counter-kick to that sweep, cutting it off before it fully materializes, and a slight pivot makes the next attack fly far afield of any point on Slade's body. "Fair enough..." He replies, starting to move through the door, turning his back on Thea as he goes, though he does give a glance over his shoulder just to see if she's looking to launch yet another attack. Given she's not thinking entirely straight at the moment, that might be prudent.

Thea Queen has posed:
Thea's momentum is such that she's on the ground, face first, her fall broken by two hands. She lies there for a long moment before she rolls over slowly, catching Slade's cross to the door again. Sitting up on the concrete floor, she watches as he reaches to move through the door. Her gaze is like shards of glass; sharp and pointy in all directions. She's not following up, not yelling, nothing but sitting and watching.

Slade Wilson has posed:
"Good night, Miss Queen." Slade speaks over his shoulder as he reaches the door, and without another word, he opens it and steps out. She might be able to make out the motion of pulling a cell-phone from his pocket and sending some kind of message, but in truth it's just calling for his ride to come pick him up...a block or so away.