As the Tower Brawl Continues
In the communal kitchen, Plasmus and Troia have been fighting bitterly. One is trying to pay back this team for humiliations real and perceived. He's been recruited to fight for money and to keep the heroes from persuing his intents on making a lot more of it. The Titan known as Troia fights for her home and for the life of Lian Harper and the
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Numerous ideas and possibilities quickly pass through her mind. She still has the chair and there is a possibility that she might be able to use it to help boost herself out through the hole in the ceiling. There is also Troia, distracted by her opponent. Cheshire clearly remembers the rage she felt during Lian's visits upon hearing her refer to the Amazon with the informal "Mom" moniker. Slitting her throat and watching as she bleed to death amidst suffering a particularly vile toxin had become a slightly ongoing fantasy.
She could watch as Donna's opponent-Plasmus or something equally inconsequential-did some of her work for her. Or she could lower herself to aiding him. Or...the old saying about attracting more bees with honey than with vinegar came to mind.
"My, isn't this cozy," Cheshire remarks to no one in particular. She isn't attacking or fleeing-yet-her intentions are completely opaque. Perhaps she is simply waiting for something...her mortal enemy asking her for assistance would possibly come to mind.
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She's been trying to get asylum for Jade. As the Themscryria situation drags, however it's been even more difficult. As Circe's magic undoes itself and Luthor takes full advantage it's been a trail to even contact the island. Her limited contacts don't allow for much of a case to be pleaded. She's tried to keep her undated, but a lot of days there isn't much to report.
And here we have a very deadly test of everyone's faith...
"Deathstroke is attacking!" she manages, despite the fiery hands grapling her. "He's been...watching Lian...please..."
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The former thought makes her question once more her foolishness as to the "side" she was currently dealing with, while the latter worries her to some degree. Any personal interest that Deathstroke may have in Lian is hardly a good thing.
But as for the situation at hand, Cheshire can't help considering how terribly easy it would be to just walk-or perhaps climb-away. But doing so would bring the game to an end far more quickly than she would have preferred. As it seems that Plasmus is distracted by his confrontation with Troia, she gazes at the nearly-ruined ceiling, her eyes scanning the exposed pipes for something that would help turn the proverbial tide more in her favor.
And there they are. Of the many pipes she is gazing at, the ones responsible for the Tower's sprinklers are her intended target. Feeling a bit foolish, though more so considering effectiveness over appearance, Cheshire drags the bed to what she views as the proper angle. There are numerous variables at work and a part of her is almost counting upon Plasmus deciding to shift his focus.
She has no intention of facing a melting death, but whether or not he came to same conclusions regarding the pipes before he attacked her will make all the difference. Moving away, Cheshire then takes a running leap onto the bed, hoping all the while that Plasmus' aim suits her more than it will suit him...
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but it only hurts, and he staggers around, angry.
This is not your fight, fraulein Cheshire. Perhaps you would be well advised to depart.
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"You would dare to risk my daughter in your assault, surely you did not think that it would go unpunished?"
She aims another blow at what she assumes to be the base of his skull and even if it does not render him unconscious, it will at least bring him further pain.
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He didn't want to attack the Titan Tower, but he didn't want to look like a wimp in Deathstroke's organization either. After Francine had left him and Luna had grown up and moved away with that boy of here, well, he'd been at sucha loss as to what to do with himself. The money had been running out too.
Now, his helmet had been damaged eariler by some girl shooting javelins and he had to take that off. One of his suit's legs malfunctioned and he had to remove both of them in order to walk around. It was going to take weeks to repair and rebuild! The people around him were stupidly scary to deal with and these new heroes had none of the understanding that Barry Allen and Jay Garrick had with the Keystone/Central City crowd. He's not hearing fighting anymore. Maybe if he saves this lug someone will owe him in that little club. At the very least, he doesn't want to be arrested again and drag Fran and Luna through all that again.
He'd found the girl cowering in a corner of the kitchen. Unbeknownst to him the evacuation order will be coming in a minute or two and all will be beemed away like the teleporters on that Space Trek show with the green kid. Right now, Basil Nurblin is panicking and trying to simultaniously hold the struggling girl, not harm her, and make all this look threatening.
"Release him!" he cries out, pointing the upgraded missle lancher in his arm at the lady in green.
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The sound of heavy footsteps above causes her to look upwards and for a moment, she is torn between derision and disbelief. A man wearing what appears to be a custom-made computer-albeit a very damaged one-as a suit is holding Lian in one hand while pointing a missle launcher mounted in his other arm at her.
Yet remarkably, this fool has her daughter. Cheshire is tempted to try to attack him, but he seems to be on edge as it is and doing so could possibly hurt Lian. Nevertheless, stepping aside at his command is also not something she is prepared to tolerate.
"If Deathstroke has allowed you into his organization, then he is an even bigger fool than you appear to be." Cheshire remarks, her voice mocking.
Edging away from Plasmus, she moves closer to a large chunk of the broken ceiling. Perhaps it is simply coincidence that it is there or perhaps she is planning her own response.
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Dimly, she recalls this is one of the Keystone baddies. They usually aren't the deadly sort, but more of those type have been moving in since Barry's death a few years ago.
Everything hurts. Her legs, arms and parts of her face and chest are burnt. She feels nausated from the radiation. Cheshire very well might have saved her life.
If he drops Lian, she'll be able to catch her, she thinks but it's hardly a guarantee.
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He doesn't get the words out before a rocket launches out of his arm towards the women.
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When the rocket goes off, she can feel him get way off balence. This might work.
She shifts all her weight to her right foot and slams down on his instep HARD.
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