#casswayned

Things have been going well for Roman since that night on the pier. He’d finally managed to secure back some territory from the Red Hood, business was streamlined into running smoothly and the arms had served their purpose for re-instilling some fear into his enemies. But of course, it all had to come crashing down on him.

Roman was in the middle of ‘interrogating’ a potential informant when everything went black. All power went off, and the white noise of the machinery humming the the background going dead silent, and even the chatter from his coms cutting off out of nowhere leaving the pale moonlight streaming in the high windows of the warehouse the only source of information to the equally black outside world. And if that wasn’t enough of a hint, the lack of the resurgence of any power from the backup generators made the situation plain as day. This wasn’t a blackout, it was an EMP.

(via

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QNRHD5LkpCw

)

@owracle

@casswayned @spacecyanide

❝     YOU KNOW I ALWAYS LAND ON MY FEET.     ❞     Ever the optimist ; ever ready to turn concern on its head like an effortless back tuck. Sure, Dick’s covered in a thick layer of sweaty soot, sure that last explosion was perhaps too close a call for anyone’s comfort, but the fact remains : he’s fine.

❝     … D’you have a first aid kit     ?     ❞

(     ------     Well, mostly fine.     )

“To have already gotten this far into Long Island, this Red Hood really is quite efficient,” Kaldur remarked through his coms as a matter of factly as he watched the ships pull into the harbor from his vantage in the water by the docks. There were also trucks moving in from the inland, but Cassandra would probably have a better eye on that where whichever rooftop she was scoping out the transfer at.

“Hey, Cass. Are you alright?” Although Stephanie knew what Cassandra was capable of, she was immensely worried, especially that they were best friends. Stephanie insisted, “Let me help. I know you wouldn’t want me to, but it isn’t right to leave your wound open.” The blonde vigilante spoke to her while she was treating her own wound. Her bed may have been comfortable, but she wished she could continue to fight crime. Unfortunately, they got away. She was good at combat, but very bad at dying. Her high pain tolerance made her wounds less painful than it usually is. It barely made a difference than the moment before she started the mission. With the first aid kit beside Stephanie, she insisted Cass to patch each other’s wounds. She gently patted on her bed so she can take care of Cass.

❝     I UNDERSTAND YOUR HAND - TO - HAND PROWESS     is second - to - none. Tell me     ——     did you know, at the time, that you were destined for this     ?     ❞

Joe was nervous. Roman could see from his shadowed and hidden overwatch, the way the man kept turning around left and right, his movements twitchy and hyper alert even as he worked with his “colleagues” to unload the crates of weapons onto the docks. Roman hadn’t told him what was in the crates, but he had his reputation, he didn’t have to. But that wasn’t was made Joe so deathly fearful of his situation by the harbor.

No that was cause of few, inconvenient (well, maybe not for Roman), happenstances that made him privy to the exact consequences of certain events, whereas the others just had the usual vague dread hanging over their heads. He’ll be the first to go, for dramatic effect and all that, Roman was fairly sure the man knew that eventuality as well, but here he was anyways, working away, desperatly clinging to that sliver of hope that he just may survice this night if he kept his head down. Fear did funny things to people.

Roman absently sipped a glass of appropriately expensive wine as he continued watching Joe and the other workers going about their drudgery. He wasn’t here for them though. He expect his foremen to keep their lot in line. No, here was here for the show.