Owner	Pose
Ra's al Ghul	Ra's al Ghul has returned to Africa, but this time he's brought a guest in the young, impressionable Oliver Queen. Sitting in the back of a old model Toyota Land Cruiser with the roof removed, Ra's' green eyes look out over the sprawling beauty of the Angolan countryside. The vehicle seats and rocks as it spears down a road running parallel to the Congolese border. It's been a long day of travel, approaching noon, but far greater labors no doubt await them just ahead.
Oliver Queen	Oliver Queen has been well traveled over his career - not just as the billionaire son of Robert Queen, but also as the Green Arrow - but Africa has not been dominant in those journeys. He has spent some time in Egypt and Libya, but otherwise much of Africa was new to him. Despite the company and the circumstances, Oliver had to admire the view as they moved along in the vehicle. His gaze taking in the sweeping vistas, the flora and fauna. He is quiet, waiting for his captor/host to speak his mind, and taking in the sights for as long as the silence lingers.
Ra's al Ghul	"It's captivating, isn't it?" Ra's asks, earnestly, gaze still fixed on the countryside. "Nature in it's most raw form. The cradle of creation," he says, eyes shining a bit in a sad but sort of humorous way. "Yet even here the heart of man is not without its sins," he concludes. As if on cue, the Land Cruiser crests a ridge and begins to ride down into a valley. Up ahead lies the Mfinda Oil Fields. Derricks churn away at pulling the modern world's lifeblood from the earth, evidence of poor maintenance and spillage poisoning the ground around them. There are burnt out villages and mounds of desecated and fresh corpses alike littering the sides of the road. The smell is almost unbearable and likely would be if not for the presence of the winds off of the Atlantic Ocean, also visible just ahead. "Welcome to the Mfinda Oil Fields, Mr. Queen. Taken over by Luuk Van Zandt some few years ago. What do you think of Mr. Van Zandt's commitment to greed?" he asks, turning to look at Oliver.
Oliver Queen	He had the sense this was coming. Oil fields, or blood diamonds, or poachers. Oliver did have his money on oil, though, truth be told. "This is a nuanced problem. We need to find a way to reduce the planet's dependency on oil, so there is not as much profit available in these things. Take away the profit, and they won't do it anymore." He shifts in his seat, turning to regard the Demon. "Blowing up oil fields just sets them back, it doesn't stop them. And the costs for the repairs, and the brief periods of shortages, squeeze the hard working common people who rely upon it to get back and forth to work to support their children."
Talia al Ghul	Ah, it is a nuanced problem. Humanity's dependence on the crude oil pipeline is more insidious than just fossil fuels. Roads are made with biproducts of crude oil. Plastics used to package life-saving medication. The entire world runs on the supply of decomposed trees and plants from a time well before humanity walked this planet's surface. Talia al Ghul doesn't have the answers to solve these complex questions, but she does have the answer to solve this one particular problem. It is, by contrast, a problem that's almost elegant in its simplicity. The problem is a man, corrupt with greed and willing to squeeze the land and its people until they bleed and break and crumble to dust. The solution? Well, again. Elegantly simple. Kill them all. Talia makes her way through the compound quickly. She isn't quiet, because she doesn't need to be. What she needs to be is brutal, ruthless, and efficient. And she is. Workers scramble down narrow corridors, and those foolish enough to fight are met with the broad side of her blade. Enough to shatter bone and send a statement, but not enough to maim. The same cannot be said about security. "Kill her!" a man yells, pointing his pistol down the darkened corridor as power begins to shut off, one light array at a time. Shunk. Shunk. Shunk. Gunfire erupts, illuminating the dark shadows in brief, flickering reports of bulletfire. The sound of metal slinging against metal is met with the sound of pain -- but not from their target. She's already within them. Her blade cuts through flesh without remorse, carving open bellies and sliding through throats. She spills blood as easily as she breathes and, when the last security guard stands, he hears just the sound of her high heels on the concrete floors. And the slow, metallic drag of her rapier's tip against the concrete. "A... a demon! Stay away!" he yells. "Mmmh, close," Talia says, and steps towards him. He shoots, but her blade knocks his pistol down and away in one sweeping motion that sees her drive its tip through his throat and out the back of his neck. "Adios," she murmurs, and kicks his body away.
Ra's al Ghul	"You misunderstand the problem, Oliver. Or do not see the whole of it," Ra's says. "Our dependency on oil will eventually become a non-factor. Star Labs, the Baxter Foundation, and even your company have made great strides in these fields already," he explains. "In twenty years, we will subsist on solar, biofuel, clean nuclear power, or whatever other alternative has come to the head of the pack; this is not my concern." The Land Cruiser hauls itself to a stop next to the main operations building and the engine cuts off. "The problem, my son, lies in the hearts of men." Ra's opens his door and steps out, boots squelching into the oil-stained mud. His eyes look up to the building with something approaching pride as he hears the bursts of gunfire being cut short. He swings his door closed and looks back to Oliver. "Come, Mister Queen," he says, hand resting on his saber hilt as he urges himself through the mud towards the cement foundation surrounding the building, some hundred yards away. Their path will be littered with the freshly deceased bodies of Luuk Van Zandt's guardsmen.
Oliver Queen	The sights of dead men is nothing new to Oliver Queen. Although usually he is dressed very differently. And armed. But if he is confident of one thing, it is that Ra's al Ghul has this well in hand, and would not bring him here if otherwise. He walks along with the Demon, his gaze drifting over the fallen adversaries, and looking ahead to the compound. Wondering to himself just what forces of the Demon are at work within that could bring such devastation. He suspects they are small in number, but how small? "You think that a different man would treat the soil differently? The people here?" He looks to the Demon's head. "That if you kill the men here, they won't be replaced in a month by the same sort of person?" A pause. "There are employees in there just trying to provide for their families, making a common man's wage. Why should they suffer because their employer lacks ethics?"
Ra's al Ghul	"They suffer because their employer lacks ethics," Ra's says. "These workers are war orphans and slaves, torn from their destroyed homes and put to work at the barrel of a gun," Ra's says, turning on his heel and pointing a finger into Oliver's chest. "Luuk Van Zandt has made himself untouchable via application of wealth. He is a warlord who's ilk have stretched back generations. There is only one cure for his kind," Ra's says, eyes blazing at the man. "The man who runs this place after Van Zandt has already been chosen. His orders are strict and he has been well-informed of the price he will pay for stepping out of line. This is the power of the League. For six years I laid dead and for six years my League was dormant. Six years was more than enough time for Luuk to tear this place apart. My order does not /work/ if there is no one at the helm. A great man of true substance must lead them," Ra's explains, shoulders lowering as he studies Oliver's reaction. He exhales slowly and turns to continue his walk towards the base.
Oliver Queen	There is a look of dawning realization on Oliver's face. "This is not just an example you are conjuring up to show me the fate of the world - you literally have the reach to exert regime change on independing companies?" Perhaps he is impressed, or surprised. He turns to walk along with Ra's al Ghul. "You are going to put your own man, or sell, barter, the rights to this field, and then intend to hold him to those ethics?" Oliver ponders that as he walks. He had walked away from the path of killing for the greater good - as he called it, in reality it was revenge - but that was narrow in focus and scope. This was... He shakes his head. "I am not sure that killing all of these men is fully justified. Do you not have other ways that you can attack men of wealth, than taking their lives?"
Talia al Ghul	Bodies lie in heaps on the floor along the long expansive hallway. Eventually, that shadowy corridor ends with a secure safe-room. Moments ago, Talia al Ghul stepped up towards that heavy door. Within it, Luuk Van Zandt is huddled behind an ornate and antique desk. His finest guardsmen stand ready at the door and the small air-duct in the ceiling -- the only ways into the room. Even through the heavy metal of the door, they can hear Talia's fingernails rake across its surface. A night-vision camera poised above the door shows her standing in her black dress, weapon drawn, slowly drawing her fingernails against the door. Talia slowly turns her chin up and glances over her shoulder, her big brown eyes piercing into that camera. A soft smile sits squarely on her pretty face. "She can't get in... there's no way she can get in, right?" he asks, looking away from the camera monitors to his guardsmen. They never get a chance to reply. Talia moves like a specter. It's as if she simply slips through the metal of the door in an instant, driving her blade into the nearest guard and hurling a knife into the throat of the far. She wrenches her blade from thee guard nearest to her's side as the further guard drops onto his knees, gurgling and clutching his throat before going entirely silent. "I assure you, Mr. Zandt. I can," she says with a warm smile. Behind her, the door sloooooowly begins to groan open, and Mr. Zandt jumps to his feet. Talia tsks and tips her head. "Ohhh, don't run. You've already run far enough," she chides.
Ra's al Ghul	"Dear Oliver, I designed the Bolshevik Revolution," is all Ra's has to say about the man's sudden realization. "These men took up arms against other men for no other reason that to attain personal wealth. They have raped the land and murdered their kin, and for what? A better home for themselves? What justice would you have them face if not the sword? Think of the blood and tears that have been spilled as a result of their actions. Think of the good they've foregone for profit." Ra's steps onto the concrete foundation and looks up to the building. The din raging within the building has quieted and he turns his attention to the watch on his wrist, a cheap but well-built thing, fit for utility more than anything else. He takes a deep breath and frowns at the stench before he offers Oliver a hand up out of the muck. "Up up, Mister Queen. Luuk will be joining us shortly."
Oliver Queen	The hand is taken, and Oliver rises up the Demon's Head. "I realize the implications of what they have done," offers Oliver Queen. "But I am not sure that rampant murder is an acceptable way to accomplish what you seek." He glances down on the bodies strewn on the approach to the building. "Are these men the ones who take advantage, or just men who took a job to protect a facility?" He looks to Ra's. "To what extent do you allow collateral damage to pile up in support of your ideals and initiatives? That is what separates you and I."
Talia al Ghul	"Mr. Queen, I must say that to see how little you retained from the time we spent together is... disheartening," comes the voice of Talia al Ghul from down the long expanse of that shadowy hallway. In tow is the man of the hour, his hands tied behind his back and his mouth gagged with something silky and black. She gives an elegant little push of his back that sees him gingerly stepping forward and then. Her still-bloody rapier presses its flat to his shoulder, and she uses it to urge the man down onto his knees. She draws that blade forward and then back, running its edge close to his throat, but never quite touching it. Blood slicks against his suit, and then she changes shoulders, repeating it on the other side of her blade. "One doesn't need to enjoy killing to take a life, Oliver dear. If the taking of a single life or," Talia pauses, laughs, and gestures to the other bodies in the hallway, "Alright, -several lives-. If taking of several lives can save a town. A city. A nation. Surely it would be irresponsible not to, hmm?" The man on his knees looks pleadingly towards Ra's and then to Oliver, making a few muffled murmuring noises until he's bonked lightly atop his balding head with the flat of Talia's blade. "That's quite enough. You're being terribly hideous, you know. At least die with some dignity."
Ra's al Ghul	"It is not the only thing. How many genocides have you personally witnessed, Oliver? How many of your daughters have wasted away in concentration camps and lost their families on the grounds of their skin color? How closely have you ever seen /real/ evil?" he asks. "There is a book, by Hannah Arendt, I think entitled 'Eichmann in Jerusalem'. It details the actions of Adolf Eichmann, one of the architects of the Holocaust. Do you know what is funny about Eichmann? He was not a radical. He was not a sociopath. He had no fiery anti-Semitism burning within. What he was was a man with a job. A man with bosses he needed to impress. Adolf Eichmann was a wholly average and unspectacular man who's ideas snuffed out countless lives, because he, like most anyone else, had a job and made the /choice/ to work towards a promotion, knowing the toll it would cost," Ra's says, his voice returning to that level timbre. "These men are Eichmann's peers. By their deaths you see that they are, like the two of us, molded of flesh and blood. Unlike the two of us, however, they have made a conscious decision to go to work every day in a job that preys on the weak. A job wherein their duties are defined as oppression and violent subjugation. I do not kill good men, Oliver. I excise cancers." "You will come to know evil by the look in someone's eyes, Oliver. Take a look at Mister Van Zandt's and tell me what you see," Ra's says, gesturing to the kneeling warlord as he looks to Talia and offers her a dip of his head.
Oliver Queen	Oliver looks up and his mouth hangs open for a moment. Not at the display, of course, but at the voice. "Talia?" He seems surprised at first to see her there, and then, everything seems to fall into place in his mind. "That's how you know who I am," murmurs Oliver, looking to Ra's. "She is one of your league." He looks back to Talia, and then to the man. "I retained quite a bit, Talia. Just because I choose not to kill does not mean that I have not taken what you trained me and used it well." His eyes drift back to the dead businessman. Sure, he breathes now, but everyone knows that he is already doomed. He looks back to Talia. "What is that ratio? How many can you kill to save a thousand? A million?" His gaze turns to the Demon. He nods. "I am familiar with that." He looks back to Van Zandt. "What is his connection to genocide? He does not look like a warlord to me, but an overzealous capitalist. They are not entirely the same thing."
Talia al Ghul	Talia's eyes roll briefly at the 'one of your league' comment, but refrains from vocalizing the thought that prompted the roll. She presses the tip of her blade into the concrete between the toes of her high heels and gives it a little twirl on its edge. Light dances around the hallway, illuminating bits of the bodies that lay strewn about in Talia's wake. "My conscience is clear, Mr. Queen. That is not a question you must ask of me, but of yourself," she says. She takes a few steps forward, bending at her hip so that her soft, brown hair caresses at the cheeks of the man kneeling before her father and her former student. She smells expensive. Bespoke perfume and a bit of metal from the jewelry or the blood that's smudged on her cheek. When she speaks, it's loud enough to hear. A stage whisper. But it's being purred into the kneeling man's ear. "The man that kneels before you is a murderer. A rancid, contemptable creature. A trafficker of little boys and little girls. A dealer of death and, perhaps most damning, a coward," she murmurs. And then, her big brown eyes flick towards Oliver. "If you'd like, I'm sure we can write you up a spreadsheet. Tally his list of sins until the math works out in your favor," she says. In a single gesture -- a flick of the wrist and a rush of air -- a small dagger lands directly at Oliver's feet. Its impossibly sharp edge bores nearly two inches into the concrete, its lustrous hilt catching a bit of light from the strobing security alarm. "The choice is yours, Ollie," Talia says, her tone deliberately shifting to one a touch more friendly. Familiar. The choice in nickname is no coincidence.
Ra's al Ghul	"Felicity is one of mine, too," Ra's says, quietly, looking to Oliver. "A lie, but one you no doubt believed until just now," Ra's says. "I take no pleasure in taking lives, my son. I have tried everything that I could to solve this situation. I've had lobbyists vying for sanctions in D.C., I've had interested parties maneuvering through the UN for punitive expeditions, I've had social media influencers drumming up awareness of his sins...I have tirelessly attempted to resolve this as peaceably as I could, you have my word. But Mister Van Zandt...he is tempered against reason. He has placed himself atop this pile of bones and fashioned a crown of oil," Ra's steps forward and squats down to level his head with the businessman's. "You are an immortal king, aren't you, Luuk?" he asks the man, his brows ticking up. Van Zandt chokes on the gag and lights into Ra's with a string of muffled Afrikaans expletives, clearly defiant to the end. Ra's watches the dagger clank onto the concrete and moves to stand, moving back to Oliver's side and lifting a hand to rest it on his shoulder. "You know what must be done. There is only one cure for this poor man's soul."
Oliver Queen	Looking down at the dagger, Oliver looks back up to Ra's al Ghul. "I am not an executioner." He kicks the dagger back over towards Talia. "I spent a lot of time as a spirit of vengeance, and it did not accomplish much in the grand scheme of things." He looks to the Demon again. "If you are asking if I have the resolve to do waht needs to be done, I do. But I am not going to kill a man in cold blood based on nothing more than your insistence of his wrong doings." His gaze turns to Talia, and he looks her over. Thinking for a moment. "You didn't tell me your father was a global terrorist. That might have altered the vibe of our sessions." His eyes are on her face, to gauge her reaction to his assertion.
Ra's al Ghul	"Cut him loose, then. Set him free," Ra's says. "If it is your lot in life to enable the continuation of evil," he begins, leaning down to pick up the blade. There are no theatrical flips or spins, he just slips the blade of the knife into his other hand and holds the grip out to Oliver. "Then cut him loose. I will not kill him and he will return to his usual fare, safe to live his life as he sees fit without fear of repercussion from my League. That is your judgement, after all," Ra's says to Oliver. Luuk's eyes widen and he looks pleadingly to Oliver, trying his best to work the gag out of his mouth. He manages it after a time. "Sir please, I'll leave as fast as I can, you'll never see me again, you have my word," the bound man wails. "Listen to that, Mister Queen. You have his word," Ra's says, slightly waggling the hilt of the knife at Ollie. "Free him."
Oliver Queen	There is genuine shock on Oliver's face as the Demon seems to be allowing the man to live. He thought it a test - and it may still be. But he was not about to give in to murder just yet. He looks down at the man and shakes his head. "You are wrong about that, Mr. Van Zandt. I will see you again." Oliver leans down, and for a moment, Talia can see it. The kapuchen that she knew and trained. The man who would easily kill and snuff out a life if it was the best way to solve a problem. He is still in there. "You will see me every few weeks, Mr. Van Zandt. In your home. At your parties. With your girlfriends. Your family." A pause. "Your mother, if you still have one. Your children, if they live." His voice takes on a sinister tone. "You will see me until I have seen evidence that you are taking advantage of what you were given today. That you have reversed course, and worked to undo the damage that you have done. That you have stood in your place and prevented another warlord from replacing you, using your strength to /protect/ the people, not exploit them." Oliver takes in a breath and clenches his jaw. "And if in any of our visits I see any signs that you are returning back to this life that you have been living, and not making your second life one focused on doing good to this world, I will rain hell upon you and every member of your family ten times as nasty as anything any of your people have perpetrated." "Have I made myself clear, Mr. Van Zandt?"
Talia al Ghul	Talia looks disappointed in Oliver's decision, but she remains quiet while he and her father discuss the man's fate. She gives her blade a lazy and slow twirl on the floor once again, drawing her eyes up from its shining surface to watch Oliver address the man himself now. Talia gives a soft exhale through her lips and shakes her head, lifting her sword up from the ground and drawing it down between the man's back and his bound hands. She gives a small push of her knee between his shoulder blades. The motion tips him forward towards his face, but also draws a line of the blade through his bindings just in time for him to be able to catch himself on his hands. Talia looks up towards her father with a look of dissatisfaction. "A rabid dog ought to be put down before they can bite," she says. But there is no more protestation from Talia. She slides the blade back into its sheath and dusts her hands off. "Perfectly clear," the man says, giving a grin over his shoulder towards Talia and rotates his wrists to enjoy the sensation of freedom. He rises to his feet, adjusts his suit coat, and moves for the exit.
Ra's al Ghul	"Did you catch that in his eyes, Oliver?" Ra's asks the man. "He is not afraid of you," he near whispers. "He has held back UN incursions. He has solidified his rule here. He will not turn from what his heart so desires," Ra's continues, watching as Luuk begins to make his exit. "Are you so willing to tear your attention away from your beloved Starling City just to be this man's parole officer. Are you ready to sacrifice the safety of your friends and family just to keep tabs on this one man? When I said that my League will not pursue him, I meant it. He is yours now to hound. And he will disappoint you at every turn," Ra's says, unfastening the scabbard from his hip and holding the saber out to Oliver. "Unless you stop him. He will disappear err long, my son," he whispers.
Oliver Queen	The look was seen. In his eyes. And in the grin. As the man gets to move up, scrambling away, Oliver steps over slightly, putting his shoulder out. Forcing the man to collide with it. He looks the man in the eyes. "Show me you understand." he says, his jaw clenched. The man looks back at him, and the pleading that he was doing when he was on his knees and Talia's blade was at his back is gone. Oliver closes his eyes, and nods. As Ra's begins his speech, the man moves around Oliver, and it happens in a flash. Oliver's arm swings around to catch him around the neck, pull him back, and with a sudden twist the man's neck can be heard to crack. Without breaking a sweat or raising his breath, Oliver looks to Ra's. "I gave him his choice."
Talia al Ghul	Talia's eyes follow the man as he moves towards the exit. It's then that the cracks in her veneer begin to show. Those pristine, darkly-painted lips curl up into a scowl. Her eyes narrow, nostrils flare, pupils dilate. For a moment, it seems as if Talia is going to be the one to do it. She even makes a half of a motion. A tip of her hips towards the man and a flit of her wrist towards her hip. But then Oliver is reaching for the man's neck, hoisting him up, and cracking it. Talia exhales softly and watches the body tumble to the floor in a heap. And there's another crack in her veneer. Another upward tug of those pretty lips, but this time it's a smile replacing a scowl. "The world will not mourn a trafficker of children, Mr. Queen. His family may, but their grief will be outshined by the joy of those being reunited with what was taken from them. You should sleep well tonight. I know I will," Talia says. She takes a step over the man's corpse and reaches out to lightly adjust Oliver's shirt and collar, tugging both into place. Both hands delicately touch either side of his arm in a 'well done' sort of pat, before folding back inwards and across her slender stomach, hands clasping at the outside of her arms now. "It's good to see you again, Ollie," she says, and then turns her expression toward her father. Expectant. "And what shall we do with him now, hmmmh? No more tests, I hope," she asks.
Ra's al Ghul	Ra's' expression remains wholly unchanged as Oliver violently and quickly shuffles off Luuk's mortal coil. It's not to say that he'd wholly expected this outcome, but he has very thoroughly weighed the numbers. Besides, there is not much in the nature of man that serves to surprise Ra's al Ghul these days. The Demon's Head reaches out and pats the man on his shoulder in an echo to Talia's gesture before he's reaffixing the scabbard to his own belt. "You gave him his choice," the man says with a nod. There's a pride there, it seems. Perhaps there is a mirror held up to a younger version of himself. When his time wasn't so short. "It is time to begin Oliver's training in earnest. You have shown him the ways of our initiates, but there is much more to learn," Ra's says, turning and moving to exit the building, his boots still splattering about blood, oil, and mud as he descends the front steps.
Oliver Queen	There is a slow intake of breath from Oliver as Talia adjusts his shirt. A memory of another time, perhaps. He looks into her eyes, weighing them. Sleeping well tonight. He sighs as she pats his arm, and inclines his head to her in response. "It is good to see you too, Talia." His words almost sound earnest - and perhaps they are, even considering the circumstances. Oliver turns his gaze back to Ra's. "Training?" He looks to Talia. His mind turns over that word. 'Initiates'. He thinks back to the times they spent together years ago. Reflecting back, it was advanced, but he could see - it was training for the streets. Initiate. There was so much more he saw her capable of, and yet they ran out of time, and then she was gone. Was it time, or was it that she had waited for further instruction to move him further? His gaze resides upon her, as Ra's turns to depart. Waiting to get some sort of sign or indication from her. Some insight into what is about to happen.