#hisdaughterfromhell

“Listen, kid. I may have ate the last piece of cheesecake but that doesn’t mean I’m sorry.”

Connor had his father’s townhouse to himself for the night, since both of his parents were out doing League work. Connor had made himself comfortable on the couch in t-shirt and sweats-- as casual and comfortable as he really allowed himself to be, even when he was alone. He had put on a cheesy action flick to pass the time and distract himself, and he was really starting to zone out... 

Is someone... throwing up on my dad’s front porch?

That’s certainly what it sounded like, like someone was mumbling to themselves and vomiting out there. What the hell were they doing? Why had they even come up the stairs?

Connor quickly bounced to his feet, grabbing his receptor collar without thinking. Better safe than sorry. He was ready for anything, whether it was a poor drunk he needed to call a cab for, or an actual threat. Connor had been caught unaware while his parents were away once before.

Never again. 

But when he threw open the door, he found Gina. A clearly drunk Gina. His heart immediately dropped into his stomach, and his mind was a mess of thoughts, but he could only come up with two questions as he set the receptor collar down on the table by the door.

“Gina, what the hell are you doing?” He asked, reaching out to grasp her gingerly by her upper arm, trying to keep the swaying brunette steady. He instinctively led her into the doorway-- he didn’t want her falling down the steps. They were concrete after all. 

“Are you okay?”

Well Emily knew now that Santiago couldn’t be trusted for shit. The deal had been that Emily would steal five-hundred grand, meet Santiago in a warehouse in the meat-packing district, and split the money, Santiago taking sixty percent and Emily taking forty. Shades had succeeded in getting the money with ease, and everything was going according to plan until she got to the warehouse.

Santiago wasn’t even there-- just fifteen of his goons with loaded guns. Emily had quickly taken cover, pressing a hand over the one bullet that had managed to catch her arm. “For fucks sake--” She hissed, drawing her handgun from her boot. There were so many of them, and she preferred close combat to bang bang shoot ‘em up, but it didn’t appear she had much of a choice. 

But then she heard a gunshot and one of the goons scream, before that scream was cut short. Were they fighting with each other? Emily peeked up over cover, and saw she wasn’t the only woman in a skin-tight suit around. 

Brown hair, uses lethal rounds, cocky as hell-- Catclaw. Vigilante.

Emily wasn’t a fan of being rescued, even if that wasn’t even Catclaw’s intention. But now that she had assistance, purposeful or not, she was going to kick ass. 

Shades phased through her cover, putting her gun back and taking out her twin daggers. She set to work, slitting throats and taking out eyes. 

Conti. // @hisdaughterfromhell​

“Open you’re Window” is all he spoke into the cell before they hang up the phone. 

Then there a knock from her outside balcony window, the male is laying on it, pressed up against it as he holds his side. Sure he could put up good use of lock picking skills or the spare key given. But unlike their extended family Elliot practice the skill of privacy unlike others. Plus Elliot doesn't think he has the mental compacity right now to pick it.

He’s Tired. 

     Taking over the Family business, ever since Dad died sucks. The wound still hurts and the Mantle of RED HOOD is too much to bear some days but. 

     ❝ here’s a concept:  NEW AGE SIRENS.  now we just wait for aunt ivy’s kid.  heaven help them, they’re gonna be a plant worshiping monster.  we’re gonna show up and say our names and they’ll just be like ‘i’m vegan’.  like, THERE’S NO RELEVANCE TA THAT AND THE SITUATION, LITTLE GINGER SPROUT!! ❞