a rose does not answer its enemies with words

[ravaging-rose]

poixonivy​:

Someone was coming.

It was that echo from the trees that forced Pam up from her hiding place. She… hadn’t been feeling very well since she’d gotten to Sokovia, since those first few nights. Enough so that she’d found herself spending most of her time curled up under the lifted roots of an enormous pine, sleeping and soaking up the sun to restore her energy. The patch of forest she’d moved to felt different than where she’d first settled, whatever there was having poisoned her after her encounter with the ARGUS agent. 

It was disconcerting. Pam hadn’t felt weak or ill in years. 

But she didn’t feel too weak to deal with an interloper. Pam crept closer, bracing herself against the trunk of a tree. She wasn’t dressed for company, in the organic biosuit she usually favored outside of public. Shame, it gave away her identity as obviously as the flowers threaded through her hair and the vines crawling up her legs. Except—

Except this was someone she knew. At least in passing. Pam licked her lips, an idea sparking. 

“Ravager?” she asked, voice coming hoarse and reedy as she rested more of her weight against the tree.

...

“ -- Not talking to a deer,” Rose began, a little breathless, as she stared ahead at the woman before her: flaming red hair with flowers weaved throughout, vines wrapping and entwining her legs, and it didn’t take long for the pieces to damn near audibly click into place for Rose. One of Gotham’s finest, transported all the way to Sokovia which ....wasn’t exactly surprising, with the amount of faces Rose had run into lately. Definitely low on the list of surprises, even if her precognition hadn’t exactly held her hand through this and given her a fucking head’s up; that had been a consistent problem, lately. One she’d need to address with more epinephrine, even if that was a double edged sword in an unfortunate amount of ways.

Still woulda been fuckin’ nice to know she’d be going toe-to-toe with the flower lady of Gotham, on this adventure into the woods. Christ, she wasn’t paid enough for this shit.

“Poison Ivy,” Rose returned after no more than a beat had passed, still holding strong to that grip on her katana as it readjusted just slightly. “Welcome to Sokovia. Long way from Gotham. Air’s a lot cleaner here, yeah?”

[ravaging-rose]

nredplanetblueplanet​:

“Perhaps a well-planned native tadpole release,” the Martian mused. “I’m not sure I have the time to properly care for a bullfrog of my very own, what with my doves and my bees. Plus, the doves would for sure be jealous. Mafalda can be very protective.” M’gann leaned in and grinned. “I can help!” The most dangerous words of all. “We just need the perfect subject.” She thought for a good long while, her fingers absentmindedly flicking the ends of Rose’s hair. “I’ve got it. What about a full-sized, fully delicious katana cake that we then cut with a real katana.”

“Oh, dearie me. I’ll go walk myself into the lake.” M’gann stood and pretended to walk away, turning back sadly only to grin when Rose kept talking. If she’d ever had a friend who could disappear from her life for a period and then return to find nothing changed, it was Rose. M’gann loved that about her. “We ought to come up with a place where we can leave notes for each other. Not like the karaoke bar or the café.” She took Rose’s hand and nodded down the street before taking off in a light run towards the lake.

“Epinephrine?” M’gann repeated, still jogging. “Like adrenaline from an Epi-Pen?” They passed through the market square and reached the edge of town in no time at all. “What do you need that for? Can’t say I’m sorry about Papa Wilson, but you know how it is. I’d find him for you if I could. You know I would.” The Wilson family trait of being psychic non-entities had positives and negatives. Positives for Deathstroke. Negatives for Rose, in this case.

...

“You have doves and bees, and they have names?” Rose definitely had missed a lot. More than just a few months with M’gann being gone, apparently. That wasn’t exactly off-base, considering Rose’s apparent inability to (and extreme dislike of) stay in one place for longer than one or two jobs before taking off again. This had been...unusual, sticking around Sokovia, though that was technically job-related as well as she was currently an agent for the fucking government. Not her usual digs, but the money was green and she had her reasons. “Gonna need a full report on that, while I’m making this katana cake. Really looking forward to slicing the shit out of it with one of my blades, that’ll be new. Usually I just eat it straight off the cake plate with a fork.” Easier that way. Less clean up, especially considering she always left a mess behind after baking. A mess she usually left, but a mess all the same. “Or you could put those doves to work and make them carrier birds. That’s a thing, right? If pigeons can do it, doves definitely can.” Or maybe Rose could get a M’gann-specific-burner with little to no incriminating evidence on it, for communication purposes. She’d have to look into it. Rose had so few friends, was notoriously bad at the friend-thing on a whole, but she could make the effort for the few that made the cut.  “Gives the precog a little boost,” Rose said with a wink and a light tap to her temple right her right pointer finger. “Some might call it cheating the system, I call it working smart.” Or maybe not necessarily smart, considering the physical effects that came hand-in-hand with use (and let’s be honest, over-use, she’d never been good at moderation) of epinephrine. “I do know how it is, and he’s a goddamn cockroach that only comes around when it’s convenient for him? Otherwise? Fucking scattered.” Rose rolled her eye, sighing through her nose. “Looking to organize something of a family reunion. Minus Joey, unless he wants to get his hands dirty.”

[ravaging-rose]

@poixonivy

Into the woods, like that musical she’d half sat through before sneaking away at intermission for teenage bullshit all those years ago. She wasn’t a big fan of the woods, to be clear. Rose much preferred urban landscapes, was very much a city rat and felt more at home with towering sky scrapers, streets packed with herds of people and city traffic to serve as white noise. Rose had never been much of a nature girl, despite the name, and yet here she was...surrounded by trees. At least the snow had melted, even if this mission still wasn’t her cup of anything.  There was some fishy bullshit happening in the woods, and Rose had been instructed to go have a look-see. Hard to say no, considering she’d been saying no to a lot lately in the wake of her brother kicking her ass clear into 2025 and figured she had to give the ISA good reason to keep signing her paycheck. So, sure, into the woods it was.  Rose was whistling to herself as she made her way through the trees, idly swinging one of her katanas in her right hand as she made her way in deeper. A crack of branches caught her attention, and Rose ceased her swinging and her whistling, enchanced senses catching on as she turned in a slow circle. “Someone is either very, very lost or I’m talking to a deer. Hoping for the former, for the record, because othwerwise I am still talking to a deer.”

[ravaging-rose]

redplanetblueplanet​:

“I’m just going to put this out there, but I’d dig a big, fat bullfrog friend. They have such soulful eyes.” M’gann tilted her head to the side, knowing that there was something bothering her dear friend, but not having any idea of what it could be. It was always so hard knowing with Rose. With anyone else, emotions glittered and gleamed off of them. Desperate to be caught and deciphered by a Martian who was ready or not. With Rose, there was none of that. It was at times a blissful telepathic silence. A rare chance to really know a person the way humans knew each other. At other times the not knowing could be maddening. 

She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again. Rose had missed her. Rose Wilson had not only noticed her absence while she had been spirited away to space. She had missed her. M’gann slowly moved forward and wrapped Rose in a hug. “I missed you, too,” M’gann whispered. She leaned back and tilted her head once again, certain that there was more to Rose’s statement than met the ear. But she needed to answer for herself before she could inquire further. “The mission was being kept from the ISA, so Wonder Woman didn’t want me to use my phone to send any information about it. But I should have put my foot down. I should have arranged to meet you to tell you in person rather than just scattering notes all over town like a fool. I’m sorry, Rose. Can you forgive me?”

“Are you still an agent?” M’gann asked, not at all uncomfortable around her trusted companion. “That kind of business?”

...

“I will add bullfrog to the list of acceptable birthday presents, then. Or maybe one of those hyper-realistic cakes made to look like a bullfrog with big ass eyes. Those have been a hyperfixation as of late - realistic cakes, not necessarily a frogified one. I think I could make one.” Dangerous words. Rose’s I think I can make that usually didn’t end well, with an extraordinarily messy cake and a somehow messier kitchen as a backdrop. Always tasted good, though. “I’m on the task. I’ll text you updates.” Even more dangerous words. “Nope, absolutely not. Unforgivable.” Rose couldn’t help the tease, said with a broad smile and a roll of her bright blue eye. “It’s fine. Life is busy, especially life on the super-side of things. I get it, it’s not a big deal. I disappear for months at a time sometimes and definitely lose my current phone at least once a month and end up with a new number. I’m not worried about you disappearing. You generally come back.” Less could be said for Rose Wilson, who definitely completely disappeared without a trace sometimes when it was necessary.  “I am,” Rose said with a slight shrug, nodding along once. “Not really what I’ve been busy with, but yeah, still on payroll. Trying to milk some resources regarding epinephrine and being able to hunt down daddy dearest. Had some definite luck on the first part, less luck on the second part.”

[ravaging-rose]

redplanetblueplanet​:

“Well, then you must just love me!” M'gann parried. “Ah huh. Once you put a frog in my lunch box then that means you have a big ole crush.” She giggled. “Soon we’ll have our initials carved in the back of the old oak tree and we’ll be in the branches K-I-,” M'gann burst out laughing. She had to laugh. She just had to. There was the slightest tinge of pink on her cheeks and the feeling that something like that wouldn’t be so bad, and she needed to draw away from that before Rose noticed and teased her mercilessly. 

“Oh, what have you been busy with?” M'gann asked, genuinely not knowing what to expect. She took Rose by the arm and walked her to a nice stone bench off the path. It was old and cool to the touch. And private. M'gann put her shopping down next to them. 

She huffed. “If you didn’t get my messages, that means I just didn’t do a good enough job of placing them. Is there somewhere better? I don’t want to disappear on you again. What if you…” Rose would never need her. “What if I needed to find you?”

M'gann weighed her options. “He seems to be using all of my more provocative appearances in my wanted posters.” There was no lack of them. Even in disguise, the ISA always seemed to know where she was. Especially when she was at the beach or doing a dance class or modeling for a few extra bucks. “The print shop down the lane has been displaying them in the store window to show off how well their work comes out. Thankfully they don’t look like the real me.” Mostly. “I think I’d prefer that, uh, not be the case, but what am I going to do? Argue with an old man about photos of scantily girls who don’t even look related to me?” She sighed. “That calendar must be just a few pictures away.”

...

“Ah, yes, the frog in the lunch box. The best way to show affection, if you ask me.” Frogs in lunchboxes and tattoos on rooftops...M’gann and Jason had helped make a difficult and painful time of her life so much lighter; they’d brought some of the light back, after what had happened with her mother and with the dark cloud that was Deathstroke looming overhead. It all felt so long ago, an entire lifetime away with everything that had happened in-between. Rose was hardly the girl she’d been back at Titans tower, before Jason had died and before she’d taken the name Ravager for herself by means of revenge by her father’s sword, though there was no denying she still held tight to the short list of friends she’d managed to make and keep.  “I’ve missed you.” A little bit of honesty there, paired with a smile as Rose settled onto the bench that M’gann had led them to. While Rose’s last few months may have been busy, marked with work and Grant and damn near dying (technically dying? that was still a little confusing, unclear, and Rose wasn’t sure she’d ever get answers), it was nice to be reunited with her friend even if she’d barely had time to mourn her absence. Such was the way with Rose Wilson’s friendships - Rose came and went, never stayed in one place for too long, even if the affection never wavered. “Just the usual business, y’know? Little of this. Little of that. I’m sure you left the messages just fine. I just haven’t been out much, y’know?” Recovery had been a top priority, something she wasn’t used to. Rose was so used to bouncing right back that having to take time to sit on her hands had been...agonizing, and truthfully she still had jumped back into things sooner than she should’ve. “Next time maybe try smoke signals. Smoke signals would probably work. Carrier pidgeons? Or, y’know. Text me.”

[ravaging-rose]

beendeaddonethat​:

Nope, he wasn’t going to pop off about how, all things considered, the rest of his life - sharpie dick-faced forever, even - probably wouldn’t be long, at least. Nah. That kinda shit would get him stabbed. More seriously than he’d planned on, today. “Call me crazy - but, bullshit. You’d think of something cooler. I’ve got absolute faith in your totally awesome taste.” Jason spread his fight-scarred hands, taking in all the sonofabitch Rose Wilson had acquired some kinda taste for, ages back. Super unquestionable. Yeah. Lucky him, staying on her menu so long. An old favourite. 

“True. And convenient. But patches - I could be down for that.” He kept super still, as Rose drew along his skin - mostly. Man, that he could hold his breath through all kinds of hell of on earth, not budge an inch, a centimeter - and get the shivers from a thing like this. She fucking tickled, though. In a warm, so-familiar way that sparkled right down his backbone. 

(Sent him off to Alfred’s kitchen, somehow. To the glint of sugarcubes melting away into one of the many, many cups they’d shared, him and Rose, sipping Yorkshire Gold like the old butler allowed on school nights. Before they snuck back upstairs to “study late” in his room, sweet-mouthed and hot-breathed.) 

Jason had folded his hands together as she worked, still smiling, tongue sneaking between his teeth, through a smile, across his lower lip. This could be some sorta meditation. Sure. He’d listened to all those lessons in the cave. Really. Pretty hard, actually. “I mean, it’d always be you and me. Even if we did get a whole, you know, team. Or something.” How many people made a team? Officially? Was there a minimum? Three was company, four’s a crowd? “Mm, point. Yeah. Cool, kinda classic. But false advertising.” Dead or Alive. Had a real bank robber vibe. Bonnie and Clyde. Cowboys, like the song. Like - “Got it. Okay, okay,” straightening up, he turned to look her in that bright, beautiful eye. “How about: the Outlaws.” He let that land, for effect. “Huh? C’mon.” 

...

“Awesome taste be damned, I won’t be one to turn down the opportunity to draw a permanent dick on your face twice, Jason Todd. This is your one. Next time, you will be full of regret.” It felt good, to be back to their brand of normal - easy, light and joking around the still-there-but-damn-near-healed bruises and weight of what happened still filling in the cracks and silences. Rose Wilson had not only knocked on death’s door but had been dragged the fuck through it, but she was still kicking to tell the tale; hell, she’d probably be laughing about it soon, cracking jokes at every opportunity but she wasn’t quite there yet. Another shared experience, between the two of them, even if it was one she would never have wished they’d have to go through. Something about solidarity, now that they were on the other side of it, perhaps managing to understand each other even-ever-better for it.  Rose couldn’t help but grin to herself as she felt his movement, noting that away for later, that smile a stamp against his skin as she ducked in to press a kiss against the now-dry stenciled rose on his neck before she sat back slightly to look at it. “I’ll poke around on Amazon, see what I can find - you know me and my internet shopping impulse control, even if it pains me to give Bezos more of my money.” A flash of who she’d been, all those years ago when he’d met her - Rose Wilson-Worth, raised sheltered but extraordinarily well off by her mother with her expensive tastes catered to by Deathstroke’s never-empty pockets. Some things never changed, even with all the beatings and blood and near death experiences in-between it all. “We could go full biker-gang. I’ll make sure to get an iron, too. Maybe even figure out how to use it after I inevitably throw away the instructions with the packaging.” She hummed a little as she considered the placement of her sketch, decided she liked it. Onto the next step: actual tattooing, with the handmade rig she had set up on the coffee table - so similar to the last time they’d done this, with a few improvements like using an actual tattooing needle rather than a sewing one and using ink meant for tattooing skin rather than Bic pen ink. But the conversation had momentarily derailed her, Rose snickering out a “more like Dead and Even More Dead with us swapping names week after week.” Leaving the needle and ink aside for the moment, she shifted closer to him instead, tossing a leg over his lap to situate herself there for the moment. She paused for a moment, mulling over Outlaws as she shifted her weight to settle on his lap more fully. “It’s definitely fitting,” she said after a beat passed, a slow smile pulling at the edges of her lips. “We’ve definitely always been outlaws when it comes to the hero sort.” She spent so many fucking years trying to find her place, trying to make herself fit into a role that she had never been meant for. It had taken her years of experience and heartache she would never admit to for her to finally realize she didn’t have to fit on one side of the line cleanly. “I like it. Green-lighted, on my end.”

[ravaging-rose]

sokovianmayqueen​:

…

She was not impressed. She sucked her teeth and shook her head while she looked around the trees she made her home. “These woods have been without protection for a long time,” she said. That wasn’t why she was here but that might be a reason for her to stay. “They have no one to speak for them but me because I’m the only one who will actually listen.”

Ivy didn’t know if this was a good person to let in on her plans. She didn’t get a chance to read very much of her file before she left the destroyed base but she did remember what it said about her connection to Deathstroke. Ivy didn’t work with him in Gotham but she knew who he was. Harley told her about him and he appeared in and out of Gotham to do his work and cause havok before leaving. If Rose Wilson was like her father in spirit then what she was saying about the money was all she would care about. It wouldn’t matter to her if Ivy was justified in her work or if she was an innocent if it meant she got paid. That’s what her dad would do.

“Am I telling you so you can go tell them? You might be willing to let me run, but I can’t rely on you to keep my intentions buried. I’m too close to be caught now.”

...

“So you’re staying for the woods?” Rose had her head cocked just slightly to the left, humming lightly under her breath as she considered that option. Not what she was expecting to hear, for certain. Revenge had been the motive that Rose would have listed, but maybe that was her personal opinions on how to handle things clouding her judgment. “I mean,I support that. Sounds like a solid mission, very fulfilling, but you may want to go deeper. I’m one agent. Imagine when they send twelve.” And they would. Ivy on the loose was a danger for the ISA, and she was a top priority; bringing her back was one of the most urgent missions, and Rose was sure she wasn’t the only agent on the case. “If I was going to tell them, I’d just bring you back myself.” She wasn’t interested in this game of cat and mouse, really. She wasn’t interesting in hauling Ivy back to the ISA so they could do fuck knows what to her for the sake of keeping her quiet. “Too close to what? The trees? Wasn’t that the whole point? Poison Ivy the Lorax, she speaks for the trees?”

[ravaging-rose]

redplanetblueplanet​:

“Oh, stop,” M’gann begged, pressing her palms against her eyes in embarrassment. “You’re so mean to me.” She shifted gears and elbowed Rose lightly. “One of these days I’m going to catch you before you can catch me. I’m going… I’m going to put a bell on you!” They were so much like cat and mouse that it was a little uncanny at times. M’gann considered herself very fortunate that this particular feline liked the mouse. Otherwise, she’d have been in ISA custody ages ago. 

“Well, see, that much is true,” she teased. “You and that nice young ISA agent who keeps putting up the wanted posters of me in my June 2016 disguise. You know, the one where I’m tall and brunette and at the lake beach and my bikini is all,” M’gann made an ample gesture. Goodness, how she loathed that one agent. “That wretched flying monkey. Take those down when you see them, will you? I’m pretty sure one local bar is compiling a swimsuit calendar.” 

“You didn’t?” M’gann looked crestfallen. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know where to find you, so I left drawings with the code for you at our usual spots. You know, the little hieroglyphs we made at that room escape we did back in Chicago? None of them got to you?” Now she felt just awful. “Didn’t you visit any of our cafes? I even left one at karaoke.” She swallowed. “Just last week. Not even a full week, actually. I was hoping you’d come and find me without, you know, scaring the living daylights out of me.”

...

“I’m mean to everyone I like,” Rose argued playfully, bright blue eye absolutely twinkling as she looked over her friend. “What’s the whole schoolyard bullshit? Pulling hair and pushing to express affection? I never made it past that point in social cues 101, apparently. My version of it is popping up when I’m least expected, and especially when I’m unwanted. Not the case for the latter, unless you’ve decided my hide and seek is too annoying in the past few months.” Rose was snickering again at the idea of a bell. “I’ll wear the bell if my collar can be lime green. Compromises, and I’m not sure the bell will help you much. Maybe level the playing field a little bit.” Rose removed a hand from her pocket to wave off M’gann’s apology. “No apologies needed. I can be hard to track down.” In normal cases, and in M’gann’s different case as well. “I’ve been a little busy, the past few months. More than usual. All work and no play makes Rose a very dull girl, and I’ve had a lot going on.” Oh, y’know, just the usual: the original Ravager back from the dead that very nearly succeeded in killing her, trying to track him down and put him back in the grave where he belonged, and then just general ISA shit. “Glad I lived up to your expectations, much better to hear than my usual routine of disappointment. Now,” Rose began, moving closer to M’gann to nudge her friend with an elbow. “You said something about a swimsuit calendar? We have a few options here. One being that we can beat ‘em to the punch and turn a profit to fund all of your baking adventures. Two is I can absolutely rig something in that agent’s office that will ruin his day and potentially his forseeable future, meaning no more posters from that flying monkey.”

[ravaging-rose]

redplanetblueplanet​:

“Gah!” M’gann exclaimed, clutching her heart and nearly falling backwards in surprise. Fond as the Martian was of Rose, and she was truly fond of her, M’gann never got used to Rose’s lack of a telepathic signature. It was downright unnerving. Plus, she could absolutely tell that Rose loved being just about the only one able to sneak up on her time and again. Simply dreadful.

“Kind of figured you were going with, ‘I got you, my pretty,’” she mused, “but that works, too.” M’gann reached behind her and pulled a silk scarf out from under her jacket to cover her hair and a pair of large sunglasses from her purse. Or at least it appeared that way. Over the years, she’d gotten very clever at changing her disguises in plain sight. And with Rose, a disguise was certainly not a bad idea. 

“I missed you most of all, Scarecrose,” M’gann winked. She wondered if Rose had even noticed that she’d been gone. “I tried to find you to say goodbye, but…” It had been a dead end, of course. Hours of searching Rose’s local haunts only to come up empty. She hadn’t even known where to leave a note, so she’d left short ones in code at the places they’d visited together in Matchak with instructions to pass it along to the beautiful white-haired woman with a single eye, and of course a generous tip. “Did you get my note…s?”

...

Rose’s grin was outright devilish, spread from ear to ear as Rose stuffed both of her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “That never gets old,” she said, absolutely cheeky as that grin grew somehow wider. It was a bit hypocritical, to find such joy in surprising an old friend that couldn’t see her coming when Rose herself hated surprises of any sort and found herself outright angry when her precognition failed her. Hypocritical, but still funny as she snickered to herself and eyed her friend up. “Of course you did. I’m the only one worth missing.” And M’gann had missed the boatload of crap that had served as the series of unfortunate events that was Rose’s last few months. Definitely would’ve made her hard to find, considering everything; Rose had been trying to stay as off the radar as she could after the Ravager-the-first run-in that had temporarily had her sat back and out of commission. “I did not get any notes, but I’ll take what I’m sure were very heartfelt goodbyes belatedly.” Right hand out of her pocket, Rose reached out to playfully aim a soft punch towards M’gann’s shoulder. “When did you get back? Hell of a surprise, considering I didn’t really even know you were gone. I mean, I knew I hadn’t seen you in a while but I didn’t know you were gone-gone.”

[ravaging-rose]

sokovianmayqueen​:

Ivy was not impressed with the long running of Rose’s mouth without saying anything and she watched Rose walk around with all her body tense and ready to spring if she needed to. Ivy was learning a lot about her powers and the more threatened she became, the easier it was to tap into what they could do. They became bloody and deadly even sometimes. It helped her hunt but they could help her kill too, if it was necessary. Rose Wilson was an assassin and a mercenary. Ivy didn’t have any intentions to die before she got even with Jason. If it came down to her or Rose, she would pick herself.

“If you’re not looking to take me in, why are you out here?” Ivy demanded. “Do you have other targets out here in the woods? I haven’t run into anyone staying here as permanently as I have.”

She crossed her arms and did a mean sounding laugh. “How terrible for them. I only did what they deserved. Those scientists all stood there while Pamela Isley was murdered in front of them. She was screaming for help and they did nothing. So what rose up in her place was their own fault.”

...

“Oh, y’know. Still gotta play the obedient soldier role. It’s good for my bank account.” Which was only part of the reason as to why Rose was on the ISA’s payroll; the money was nice, sure, definitely green and consistent, but she was more interested in the resources she could milk the ISA for. Finding her father had been the original goal, but now it would seem that an entire fucking Wilson family reunion was neccesary. Had to stay in their mostly good graces while it benefitted her to stay in their ranks. “But no, I’m not looking to bring you back in. Just chased the lead after they assigned me the job. I was apparently able to get some traction, so if you’re trying to stay off the radar then you may want to go a little deeper.” Or get the hell out entirely. That was always a solid game plan. "They’re capable of some pretty fucked up shit, there’s no denying that. It just gets darker the deeper you go.” And apparently darker still. Rose made sure to store away what the woman before her said, filed that information away for later: those scientists all stood there while Pamela Isle was murdered in front of them. “What’s your end-goal, here?” Rose’s tone was entirely curious, paired with a head tilt and all. “If not just to get the hell out of dodge?”

[ravaging-rose]

@redplanetblueplanet

Rose could’ve spotted that red hair a mile away, even if she hadn’t seen this meeting in a flash beforehand. Rose had been boosting her precognition since the incident, carefully and very intentionally - she had to toe the line, keep herself in check because it was all too easy to let herself take the high dive right back into habitually using epinephrine to keep her batteries super charged. Being able to know her future was addicting, the thrill like electricity crackling beneath her skin. The side effects were unfortunate at best, and Rose wasn’t looking to further hinder herself after getting her ass handed to her in a way she never had before. Something about balance, even if she never knew how to do anything in moderation. “We certainly aren’t in Kansas anymore, Toto,” Rose said as she approached the familiar face in the streets of Matchak. Rose had taken her time with her approach, winding in-between market stalls before heading in M’gann’s direction with a lazy grin spreading across her face. “Didn’t even need to click my heels three times to find you.”

[ravaging-rose]

beendeaddonethat​:

Risky? By their standards? Yeah, maybe. “You know me. Living on the edge.” Jason blew a swirl of smoke up, over their heads, into the faint haze they’d started to collect after another afternoon of convalescing. Rose did look so much better. Which, usually, wouldn’t make too much of an impression. Of course she would, the way she healed. But this hadn’t been usual. And there’d been no of courses, suddenly. Rose Wilson’s seemingly absolute invincibility had up and vanished, after being a crazily comforting given for years. 

Here she was, though. Back in black. Metaphorically, right. In lime green, actually, sprawling in her sweats, fluttering that sketch as she eyed him up, considered the canvas, weighed the many, maybe too many, options he’d given her. And bullshitted, with that super-quick sense of humour he’d always fucking loved. Forehead. His laugh was big, a cackle that cut loose without any attempt at containment. Fuck that, man. They only got so much to laugh about. 

Asshole, he’d almost grinned, fondly. But - matching it is. Yeah, that got him. Right by the neck, surprisingly hard. Jason wavered, barely, that grin only hooking a little higher. Sentimental as shit. He took another drag, quick, and held the cigarette out for Rose to take as he rolled up, stretching his arms overhead. “Cute. You wanna get team jackets, next? Leather, not lettermans, obviously.” Jason settled in, cross-legged, giving her that matching side. “Mm, although - we never did figure out a name.” They’d talked about it, but. They talked about a lot. Over stitches, whetstones, Wayne (or Wilson) grade extravagant room service… over all the years they’d been what they were and would always, always be to each other, through hell and back. He glanced over, down his shoulder, as Rosie got ready. “I mean, we don’t need one. Just, you know. If we want a name. We could do it. That shortlist was pretty hot…” 

...

“Yeah, until you bite off more than you can chew and it pushes you right the fuck off.” It was said with a lazy smile as Rose settled up beside him. “Like the time I decide to actually tattoo something on your forehead and you’ve given me dealer’s choice power. That’s the day you walk around with a dick on your forehead for the rest of your life, Mr. Todd.” She wagged a single finger at him, bopping the tip of his noise as that grin stretched wider across her face. She snagged that cigarette he offered up her way, bringing it up to her lips for a final drag before stretching out and over towards the glass that had been repurposed as an ashtray, dropping it into the bottom. Rose re-situated herself beside him, sitting up higher on her knees. The fingers of her right hand gently traced over the spot on his neck she intended to tattoo, tucked beneath his ear, a direct mirror to her own. She pulled a pen out from behind her ear, using the sketch she’d drawn on the piece of paper in hand as a reference as she quickly and carefully mapped out the image on his skin. “Pretty sure we already match in both color schemes and leather. We never left the teenage dirtbag era behind us.” Rose tilted her head slightly to grin at him again, tossing the pen and paper aside once she’d finished her outline, reaching instead for the makeshift tattooing set-up she’d put together (she could’ve ordered the real deal, definitely, but blah blah blah something about recreating the experience they’d had all those years ago on a rooftop with a sewing needle and Bic pen ink; at least she’d gotten the right kind of needle and actual real tattoo ink this time). “We could get some patches. Preferably iron-on, I’m pretty shitty with sewing.” Rose was unable to fight the urge to press her lips just beside the outline she’d drawn, trailing up and under his jaw. She hummed against his skin as she contemplated his question, hesitant to pull away and begin the tattooing process for the moment. “Depends,” she began. “Are we adding to this misfit crew, or sticking to just the two of us? Got anyone in mind?” It went without question that she trusted his judgment, even if she didn’t always play nice with others. “Names depend on people involved, y’know. If it’s just us, I’m particularly fond of Dead or Alive but y’know I don’t think we often leave anyone alive often enough for that to be legit.”

[ravaging-rose]

you put me on and said i was your favorite.

@beendeaddonethat

[ravaging-rose]

blackcanaryrising​:

“So she’s a bitch,” Dinah summed up. “Sounds like she and your dad belong together.” Slade fucked that all up she was pretty sure. It had something to do with his mute kid anyways. She didn’t ask a lot of questions. Poor Rose. She didn’t have anyone in the world did she? Kid was finding her way on her own. Dinah kind of knew what that was like. She lost her parents when she was pretty young. Uncle Ted tried his hardest when he was around but he had his own shit. She could have turned out more like Rose Wilson without influences like Babs in her life.

“I’d wear it. Especially if it’s tight and I can crop it. Maybe I can sport it next time i revenge vomit on him.” Her smile appeared slowly but it was like a cat more than a Canary. “Count me in if you decide not to go it alone.”

...

“She’s a bitch,” Rose echoed with an over-exaggerated, huffy-sounding sigh. “Definitely never expected anything other than the wicked-reverse-step-mom from Adeline. My birthday and Christmas presents were her leaving me alone rather than trying to put my insides on the outside.” Which wouldn’t do much, considering the Wilson half of her DNA, but it was still fucking annoying and something Rose would like to avoid. “Tight and cropped. I got you. Any color preference? I’m personally partial to neon green, but I can be flexible.” But the offer still hung between them, strange and complicated in a way that Rose was not expecting. Support was not something she was used to outside of Jason and the Red Hood; support from the hero side of the line in the sand was almost unheard of, after her history. “I’ll keep it in mind,” Rose responded, not giving herself the time to over-analyze in a way that would make this uncomfortable. “I’ve got a few leads to follow up on. Trying to find my dad first. All roads lead to fuckin’ Deathstroke, except when I need them to.”

[ravaging-rose]

[ravaging-rose]

onetruewayne​:

“Good. If I find anything else of you, I’ll contact you. For now, we have to wait and see if Deathstroke will take the bait.” Damian snapped his computer closed and took the last crumble of cake from the box. He could do the mental calculations now, how long he should wait for Slade to respond, if he should start pushing to HIVE himself to try and bring Slade out along with it, if he should send a more clear message, what the outcomes might be. A tempting puzzle to dig in to and the reward of a challenging fight at the end.

“If I see other news of him before you do, I’ll pass it along. But I can’t promise I won’t already be on my way to put him down. If you’re right and HIVE has resurrected him, or if I’m right and he’s a clone, he’s better off where he can’t be used again. I’ll get you the number for a cremation facility that doesn’t ask questions.”

...

“Sounds like a plan.” Rose closed the white takeaway box that contained the last half of the cake she’d bought for herself; talking about anything Wilson-related soured her stomach, ruined her appetite, even if she’d been looking forward to the empty carbs and sugar high. She pushed her chair out with an uncomfortable screech against the floor, didn’t bother to push it once she’d pushed herself to stand and stretched her arms above her head. “I’ll race you to it. Can’t say that I’ll be happy unless I’m the one that puts him down.” Not after what he’d done. No way in hell. “Call it a sense of familial responsibility.” 

[ravaging-rose]

onetruewayne​:

Damian leaned back, his spine straight. Considering. Agreeing that a fleet of insane Ravagers hopped up on a messed up super serum, technically. But still thinking about what that could really mean for HIVE. It could make for a much bigger problem. Especially if they could get Lex in their pockets, and who couldn’t get that man with enough money and a plan for world domination. “If there’s hundreds of him, HIVE would have moved on something or someone by now. And cloning is slow. Difficult. Even for them. If they have managed one, they won’t have many more. But it means destroying the bodies. If they start making too many copies, there’s no telling what they’ll make.”

He drummed his fingers on the metal table. “Do you want to get him out, or do you want him dead, Rose. If he is a clone, or a resurrected version of a lunatic who tried to kill the Titans, you don’t have many options for where to take him to keep him from just going out and killing more people.” Damian wanted to say he should be put down. But it was family. It was… a different set of rules, wasn’t it? Just the reason his father preached against killing. Because the rules were too easy to change. “He might be better off where he can be… handled. If HIVE has a means of that, it might be prudent to pursue that first and your brother second.”

...

“That sounds more logical, yeah.” One clone would be bad enough. Hundreds? Unthinkable, especially if HIVE managed to use their evil scientist bullshit to work their way around the flaws that had come with the actual Grant Wilson and were able to hone in on his strengths and all that rage and daddy issues. “I’d say a clone is just about as likely as zombie Grant, so we’ve got like...a pretty solid 50/50 shot here. Good odds. Both options suck to be clear, but it’s nice to know the odds.” Better than a lot of jobs she’d worked, when she looked at it that way. Positives. There was a momentary harsher set to her jaw as she bit the inside of her cheek, and she came back down on all four chair legs with a rough clang of the iron material of the chair harshly hitting the ground. “It would be my pleasure to stuff him right back into the hole he came out of. Or, better yet, grind him into dust. There is no familial attachment in the Wilson family.”