By Ravager4 6 Comments
Written by Ravager4 and Joygirl
The House of Secrets was quiet, mostly. At least, when compared to the high speed pursuit they had found themselves in not too long ago. Bane, Catman, and Ragdoll all sat around the main lobby of the used-to-be hospital, trying to settle down after the rather eventful evening. Thankfully, no one had been seriously hurt or worse. The extent of their injuries was Bane's bruised elbow, and a few cuts and scrapes. Amazingly--or perhaps, ironically--Ragdoll had come out of the crash without so much as a scratch.
"I swear, you ever do something like that again and I'll string your bony body up in the back," Catman muttered, rubbing the back of his stiff neck.
Ragdoll crouched low on the floor, legs bent high and head tilting. "You had as much fun as I did, I can see it." A few swift, eerily springy movements later, he was hanging off of the man's shoulders. "Admit it."
Ragdoll uttered a short breath, dropping back to the floor. "Could have at least kept the ice cream truck."
"Though I am sure we all would have... loved a truck full of frozen sugar," Bane said, standing still with his arms folded, "the truck was totaled. There was no salvaging it."
A short moment later, movement drew their attention from one of the nearby hallways. Grifter appeared, stumbling a bit as he walked. Sweat beaded across his forehead, and his hair was loose, unkempt. Though it had been a few hours since he touched a drink, and he was beginning to sober, ever so slightly, things were still a little... dizzying.
"Cole, there you are... you alright?" Catman asked.
"Been better," he replied, falling into an old, dusty couch. He grunted, then looked up at them. His gaze lingered, drifting back and forth between Catman and Bane. "The hell happened to you two? You look like you were in a car crash."
"Ragdoll and an ice cream truck," was all Bane said. "That is what happened to us."
Cole lifted his eyebrows, needing no further explanation. "Ah... got it."
"Where's Scandal and Harley?" Blake asked, as he gazed farther down the darkened hallway. "They back yet?"
"Nope," Grifter replied. "Haven't seen them in a while. It's getting late, too..."
A different voice answered him, coming from the partially opened building entrance. "We're here." Scandal pushed the door open, working her way inside with a groggy Harley Quinn supported against her. The clown was conscious, but had a hard time supporting herself on her own two feet. Everything in her line of sight was still spinning something awful.
"Jesus, what the hell happened to her?" Grifter asked, sitting up straighter. It seemed to be the question of the hour.
"She did," Scandal replied, gesturing with her thumb behind her. A short moment later, another figure appeared through the doorway, this one a younger girl with long white hair and an eye patch over her left eye.
"Well, this is a sorry bunch..." the girl muttered, taking a long look around at the group.
The others were silent, staring at the girl for a long while before saying anything. Finally, Catman raised a hand and uttered, "Uh... okay. Who are you?"
"Rose," she replied. "Rose Wilson. But when I'm in costume you can call me Ravager. So, you guys are the Secret Six, huh? Don't look like much to me."
"Uh, Scandal?" Grifter said, giving the woman a questioning look.
"Long story short, there was a misunderstanding," Scandal explained, still holding up Harley against her. "These two fought, I stopped it, and now Rose here... wants to join the team."
Catman sputtered out a surprised cough. "She what?"
"She is... just a child," Bane remarked, giving her a long look. "What is she, fourteen?"
"Fifteen," Rose said, frowning. "And I bet I could take you in a fight, big man."
"You do that to Harley over there?" Grifter asked. He was the only one of the group who didn't seem rather put off to have her show up.
"Took a bit longer than I thought it would," she said with a shrug, "but yeah."
"Hmm... we do need all the muscle we can get, you know."
Catman looked back at him quickly. "She's still just a kid! You're not seriously proposing we take her in on a group of... well, us, are you?"
"Like it or not, she's here," Scandal said, starting to head towards the hallway. "I'm going to take Harley back to her room for some rest, you guys get acquainted, then take Rose to the briefing room to meet with Mockingbird. He'll need to approve her."
When Scandal was gone, Ragdoll came forward, jumping up on top of a table and holding a hand to his chin, head tilted at her. "So, where do you keep your buccaneers?"
Rose furrowed her brow, confused. "Uh... what?"
A second later, Ragdoll leaped closer and hung off her shoulders, reaching up to flip up her eye patch. "Are they under your buccanpatch?"
"What the f- get off!" she yelled, throwing the clingy contortionist back to the floor. She shuddered a bit, taking a step back. "Creepy b**tard."
"Just... ignore him," Grifter said, clearing his throat. "He does that. So, Rose, huh? Cute name."
"Uh huh," she said, hands coming to her hips. She wasn't really in the mood for chatting with these losers right now. "So, when do I get to talk to the almighty Mockingbird?"
Bane paused a moment, then looked back over his shoulder. "We contact him through the briefing room. That is where you can... meet him."
"Good, take me there."
Without another word, the mountain of a man waved for her to follow, leading her down one of the hallways.
"This is a bad idea..." Catman muttered, shaking his head.
"You can go in now," Bane said, as he exited the briefing room door. "I have taken the liberty of informing Mockingbird of your desire to join the team. He is waiting."
"About time," she said, pushing past him into the room.
"We will be waiting outside." With that, he closed the door behind her.
Rose walked towards the center of the small room beyond. There wasn't much inside except for a table and a television screen, which right now was currently blank. "So, anyone there?"
A long moment of silence lingered throughout the room. Rose lifted an eyebrow at the screen and folded her arms, beginning to grow annoyed that the mysterious Mockingbird was seemingly ignoring her.
“Uh, hello?” she said, trying to keep her tone sounding civil. Any more of this, though, and she'd probably start spouting off a few choice words.
“I'm here,” came the distorted voice of Mockingbird, a short few moments later. The screen in front of her flickered on, revealing a blank screen save for a white silhouette of a, well, mockingbird. “So... you're the one who wishes to join my team?”
“I don't see anyone else, do you?”
Another pause. “No... no, I suppose I don't,” Mockingbird replied. “And... why do you want to join the team?”
It was Rose's turn to pause. She lowered her gaze, eye narrowing at the floor. A cool, soft breath flowed freely past her lips. “There's someone I need to find... someone who hurt me, someone I thought I loved and who loved me back.” She scoffed, folding her arms. "Couldn't have been more wrong."
"And this person... does he have a name?" Mockingbird asked.
"Slade Wilson," she said, gaze narrowing. A certain venom found its way to her voice at the mention of his name. "Also goes by Deathstroke the Terminator... and he's my father. He... he sold me out." Hands balled to fists, a growing rage consuming her body. "He...he used me, he got my mother killed, he..." She forced herself to swallow back an oncoming shout, forced herself to calm.
"He was the one person I had in my life who cared about me, but he betrayed me... he ruined my life and I... I want the bastard dead." The screen went silent again, longer this time. Rose expression grew sour, glare hardening and hands dropping to her hips. “Hey! Pal, you there? Kinda getting a little p*ssed-”
“I'm here,” the voice responded. “And I've taken your words into consideration. However... I'm afraid I have to decline you joining this team.”
“Oh, is that so?” Rose spat, her demanor really starting to go south. She didn't enjoy having her time wasted like this. “And why might that be? Please, enlighten me.”
“This team isn't a personal revenge service," Mockingbird explained. "It's a special ops force that runs the missions I tell them to, nothing else. I don't have time to waste going after your own personal vendettas. Furthermore, this isn't a place for someone like you. You're young, you still have your whole life ahead of you. My advice: forget your revenge, forget fighting, forget this life... and find something normal. You'll just end up dead.”
Rose's eye darkened, a very annoyed, very angry frown curling across her face. She took two steps closer to the screen and pointed at it. “Now you listen to me, Mr. Hides-Behind-A-TV. I might just look like some poor little girl, but I'm not. I've experienced a lot more shit than most people do in a life time, and I want some closure on that dark hell of my life. Any of that getting through to you? I don't know who the hell you think you are to tell me what I can and can't do, but news flash: you aren't my father. Which is a good thing, too, because if you were I'd jump through that screen right now and rip your throat out myself.”
She took another step closer, this time leaning close to the screen, so the man behind it could get a good look at her. “I don't expect you to magically find out where my father is hiding or pool all your efforts into making it happen, but you do have better resources than I do, so I could use the help. In the meantime I'll do whatever the hell you want me to do, and I'll do a damn good job of it, probably better than any of those losers waiting outside. Any of that work for you, you little-"
“Alright,” Mockingbird said, finally cutting off Rose's tirade. “Alright. You can work with us. But know this: you do what I say, how I say it, and when I tell you to. Those 'losers' waiting outside, your new teammates? They're in charge in the field. They call the shots. If you can live with that, then I'll find you Deathstroke. I'll find you father.”
Pausing a moment, Rose lifted and eyebrow. "Hmph... fine. Good. There's just one more thing that I need."
Mockingbird sighed, already beginning to regret his change of mind. "And that is...?"
"This base of yours looks pretty safe, at least more secure than the holes I've been living in lately... and there's someone else with me, someone I'm responsible for looking after," Rose said. "She'll need to stay here, too."
"My, uh... sister."
Another long pause. "Your... sister?"
"Yeah, she... well, we're all we have. I'm responsible for keeping her safe, so where I go, she goes. At least, she'll need a safe place to stay whenever I'm out doing... whatever you have me do. I hope that won't be a problem."
"No... no problem."
"Good." Rose then turned from the screen and marched back out of the room, giving a flippant wave. "In that case, I got a few things to do and I'll be back."
When she exited the briefing room and returned to the lobby, those present turned to face her. Grifter in particular stood a little straighter and asked, "So... what's the word, kid?"
"Say hello to your new team member, boys," she said, holding her hands to her hips and giving a little smirk. "And don't call me 'kid'... unless you enjoy broken arms."
Catman groaned slightly, holding a palm to his forehead. "And now the Secret Six is a babysitting service... wonderful."
Rose said nothing as she walked by them, though when she came next to Catman she gave a swift kick directly to the side of his leg. He grunted slightly and toppled against the chair next to him, just barely holding himself up.
"Oh this is going to be real fun..." he muttered, rubbing his leg.
Grifter chuckled under his breath, arms crossing over his chest. "I don't know, I like her."
Ragdoll watched as Rose disappeared, then brought his hands together in a single clap. "Me, too. I've always thought that this team could use a pirate."
Catman huffed out an annoyed groan, then limped away towards the kitchen. "Whatever. I know it's late, but I'm making some dinner. Anyone else hungry?"
"Might as well," Grifter said, with a small shrug, following after the man. "Could use something to wash the taste of alcohol off my breath.
Some time later...
"Keep in mind this is probably just temporary," Rose said. She worked on unpacking the few duffel bags full of their belongings, mostly clothes (and one bag of weapons, for Rose).
Her companion--Cassandra Cain, a year younger than Rose herself--sat at the small desk near the bed and studied her stack of flashcards closely. In the past year, those cards had grown from single letters to simple words, such as "cat" or "stop". Most of those words she couldn't say, nor could she read them yet, except a few (Currently, her normal vocabulary consisted of about eight words: "we", "you", "Rose", "stop", "kill", "please", "no", and "ever", though she could manage a few more if she gave it proper thought).
Rose let out a small breath, as she folded a shirt and stuffed it in one of the drawers. "We're just here until I find my dad, which they can help with. Hopefully that will be sooner rather than later and we can be on our way again. Where, I don't know..." After Rose found her father and took her revenge, what then? She was supposed to protect Cass, look after her, but could she really expect the two of them to live a normal life, after everything they had been through?
That trail of introspection was abruptly cut short by a knock on the door. Short but polite, three knocks. To the point, yet not brash. "Um, Ravager?" came a feminine, accented voice from the other side of the door.
Rose glanced back at the door, feeling a brief wave of annoyance flow through her. She half expected clown girl to be standing there, but much to her relief that was no the case. She didn't know if she could put up with that freak anymore tonight. Still, she wasn't sure of this Scandal Savage, either. They had just met, after all, and Rose was wary of all new acquaintances, no matter how friendly they tried to be.
"I told you, it's just Rose," she said, folding a pair of jeans against her chest. "I'm not in costume." Rather, she was dressed down in a simple pair of sweatpants and a white T-shirt, her typical sleep attire. Cassandra's attire, meanwhile, consisted of pink pajama pants and a black shirt with a yellow Batman symbol on it—she had picked it out herself, the last time they went shopping.
"Sure, Rose," the Brazilian woman said with a nod, folding her arms across her chest. "I was just wondering how you're settling in—I don't really like to think of myself as den mother, but someone's gotta do it." She then paused, eyes shifting towards Cassandra. "And... who's the kid, by the way? This team isn't exactly rated PG, she may want to keep a blindfold handy. Especially if Ragdoll starts sleepwalking...."
"I've been traveling non stop and living in shitty hotels for the past year," Rose said, with a cursory glance. "Compared to that, this is the Four Seasons as far as I'm concerned. So yeah, we're settling in fine." She sifted back through one of her duffel bags, pulling out her swords, armor, some spare knives, grenades, and an assortment of other weapons that she started to organize on the table nearby.
"And that's Cassandra, or just Cass. She's my... uh, sister." Rose cleared her throat, averting her gaze and digging back through her bag. Sisters... it was just easier to explain that way. She didn't really feel like long, drawn out stories right now. "Don't worry about her, though—our life hasn't exactly been PG. She'll be fine."
Sisters, of course. It might have been over a hundred years since she had traveled Asia, but Scandal could still easily tell the difference between someone of Cambodian descent, and one of Chinese descent. So yes, they were clearly sisters. She supposed they could have had different fathers or mothers, half-sisters... but she wouldn't bet on it.
"I suppose that's for the best," Scandal said. "I hate to see innocence lost—" she turned her gaze back to Cassandra for a moment, leaning her shoulder against the door frame. "—But if it's already gone then I don't suppose I'll complain."
Rose uttered a quiet sigh and bowed her head, staring at the knife in her hands. She flipped it around a couple times, then dropped it next to the others. "Just don't assume you know anything about us, alright? We've been through... a lot." That was an understatement, if there ever was one. "But it's my responsibility to take care of her, got it? I can hope she'll be safe here, but if any one of you do something to hurt her, I will gut you. That's a promise, not a threat."
Cassandra looked up from her flashcards momentarily. She glanced between the two, as if thinking about what to say. Eventually, she came out with, "W... we... l, um... luuuv."
Rose drew her lips into a small smile. "Yeah... that."
"Hmm, cute," Scandal said, half-serious. "Don't worry, kid. We may be criminals but we aren't really bad people. 'Cept maybe me." She snickered playfully before gritting her teeth, bringing her hand to her temple and grinding her palm along it gruffly. Hangover. She had to remember to, when she drank, not drink so bloody much.
"The kid want something to drink, or whatever? I don't think she'll like beer, but I might be able to pilfer one of Bane's protein shakes," the immortal offered after a moment, reopening her eyes as the dehydration pangs settled.
Pausing a moment, Rose looked back to Cass, now busily pouring over her flashcards again. "Uh... maybe just some water, if you got any. Cass?"
The younger girl lifted her gaze again and blinked, head tilting to the side.
A brief pause, followed by a quick nod.
"Yeah, just water."
"Water, then," Scandal said with a soft nod, slipping from the doorway and back into the new House of Secrets. A few moments of cluttering and banging passed before the immortal's voice rang out. "Blake, do we have any bottled water left?!" An even more muffled response returned a second later, and then another minute of time, leaving Rose and Cassandra alone.
Rose glanced calmly towards the open doorway, listening to the shouting from farther within the hideout. Delicacy was clearly not a priority in this group. While she and Cassandra were alone, she removed her white-colored eye patch and set it down on the table next to her gear, revealing a rather nasty combination of scars over where her left eye used to be. Most of it was burns from the explosion that took the eye, but there were also quite a few slashing scars, reminders of the hot glass that had torn into her skull like grenade shrapnel. Simply put, the upper left portion of her face was nothing but a mess of scar tissue.
Finally, Scandal returned, covered with soot and with a small, bleeding cut on her forehead. One extended hand held a glass of water. "Here you go... shouldn't kill her."
Cassandra looked up from her seat and made a quick dash over to the woman. She grabbed the glass with both hands and pulled it to her lips, gulping down most of the contents in a single swig. Then, she returned to her seat and looked back, taking in a breath of air and pausing, thinking. Then, finally, "Th... tha... um... Thhhanka..." Furrowing her brow, she turned back to her flash cards and rifled through them, until pulling up one in particular. "Thank... you."
"Not a problem," Scandal said with a warm smirk. She was never entirely sure what to think of kids. Conflicting natures within her made her unsure whether she should hate them, or find them quaintly adorable. In Cass' case, however, she was already tending towards the latter. "Your sister's cute, Rose."
"Hrm," Rose muttered, as she finally emptied the last of her equipment onto the table. Perhaps tomorrow she would find a more suitable way to organize it all, but it was already far too late. Looking back at Cass, she exhaled a small breath and tried to keep from smiling too much. She failed, though. "Yeah... she is."
A moment later, she opened her mouth in a long yawn stood up, arms stretching outward. "So what do you people do around here, anyway? I mean, when you're not being criminals and stuff."
Scandal took a long swig of the beer that she had surreptitiously swiped during her escapade in the kitchen. "That really depends on the individual, I've found. While Blake watches the Discovery channel and chastises it for not being 'realistic', Peter will be using my old medieval torture equipment to see how far his limbs will stretch. While Bane makes editorial notes on Sun Tzu's Art of War, Harley tries to apply her doctorate to the perfect nacho, and Cole watches porn on the internet." She grinned darkly, finally closing the invisible boundary of the doorway, the one she had not crossed yet. "That was last Sunday. As for me, I'm usually getting drunk or reading. Day in the life of the mysterious Secret Six."
Rose snorted out a half-laugh, half-scoff. "Porn on the internet... why am I not surprised? Remind me to knock before entering any closed doors." Still, aside from whatever that bit was about torture devices, the group seemed fairly normal... for costumed criminals, anyway. She'd have to make a point of chatting with Bane later on. Someone who actively studied things like the Art of War would definitely be worth a conversation or two. Her father had made her read through that book several times, dissecting it backwards and forwards to help with her tactical and strategic mind. "Sorry about your friend, by the way. The clown... um, Harley? Didn't mean to beat her so bad, but, you know, honest mistakes and all. How she feeling?"
"Harley? Hah, she's fine, actually; she's a quick healer. Last I checked she was taking out her frustrations with a video game."
Rose lifted an eyebrow and puffed out a bemused breath. "Video games...? What, is she twelve?"
Scandal smiled slightly. "She can be... quite innocent, at times."
“Na na na, na na na, na na na na na NA, na na na, na na na, na na na NA na na!” Harley sang along excitedly with the atmospheric soundtrack as she readied her Ebony Warhammer (gosh, that thing was beautiful). The dragon was coming closer and closer now, swirling around her in mid-air and peppering her with long gouts of fire-breath.
“Aw, stop kitin' me stupidface, come on, bring it! FUS RO DAH--! Aw, crap-- will ya just land already?!” Harley squawked in exasperation, hopping up and down and swinging the warhammer from side to side. The stupid dragon just wasn't landing. “Come taste the fury of the Dragonborn, bozo! See if ya like that! FUS RO-- crap, land ya freakin' stupid lizard!”
“Harleeeeey, I got dinner here if you want any!” came a call from the kitchen, about two doors down the hall from her room. Catman was cooking tonight. Catman always made goofy stuff like bread served with like twenty different kinds of paste.
“I ain't hungryyy!” she squawked back, frantically jamming her fingers down on the buttons of her controller, sending her awkwardly-dressed breton into a frenzy of action. She smirked at the character on the 40” screen in front of her – Scandal had helped her make a mod that turned Cicero's Outfit into a cooler-looking Harlequin costume.
“I made macaroni and cheese!”
Harley's eyes widened. She immediately slammed her thumb onto the start button, leaving the pause menu open as she scrambled from her room. “Macaroni and cheeeeese!” she squealed.
"I must say, though, that I am impressed," Scandal continued. "The 'clown' has done some impressive things since she's been here." Scandal winced from another hangover-pang and sat down on the edge of Rose's bed. "What kind of powers and training do you have, anyway? Some kind of meta? You're tough for someone so young."
Rose was quiet a moment, as she stuffed the empty duffel bags beneath the bed. She walked over to the small mirror hanging on the wall and exhaled sharply, staring into her reflection. "I have... a bunch of stuff, I guess. Was trained since I was five by my father in all sorts of martial arts. Karate, ninjutsu, sambo, judo, krav maga, muay thai, you name it I've probably studied it in one form or another, plus a long list of weapons training. I'm also, well, 'enhanced', I suppose you'd call it. Strength, stamina, agility, reflexes, all that. I've never really tested my limits, but I can sprint close to 40 miles per hours at least, for a good hour before I tire, and I can bench about fifteen hundred pounds. On top of that, though, I... see things. Like, little flashes in my head, you know? Attacks, danger, things like that. If you were planning on jumping up from that bed and attacking me, for example, I'd probably already know a good two seconds beforehand."
"I see... you new kids always come in and make my own gimmick seem so tame," the older woman said, her eyes following Rose as the girl bustled around the room. She was built well, for her age, Scandal had to admit, and even though matters such as age had long ago stopped meaning much to her, she still had to cleanse her mind of a few impure thoughts. "Have you ever heard of a man named Vandal Savage?"
Rose looked back over her shoulder, giving the name a long thought. It sounded... familiar, and yet for some reason she couldn't place it. "I'm not sure, actually. I think... my father might have mentioned him once in passing, but I'm afraid I don't remember. Why, is he important or something?"
The auburn-haired woman offered a shrug in return. "He's my father. Also the longest-living human being in existence, and just about every historical figure anyone's ever feared. Kind of a big shadow." A part of her was still annoyed at the fact that she was still, more than anything else, defined by her last name. 'Savage'. She'd always be his daughter, no many how many times they renounced one another.
Rose lifted an eyebrow at the woman. "What, really?" When Scandal didn't so much as twitch, she puffed out a short breath of air and held her hands to her hips. "You're serious... no kidding. So, how old we talking?"
"He used to be a caveman," she said simply, taking another long drag off of her beer and putting one palm on the bed behind her, propping herself on it. "Some kind of magical meteor, I guess."
Rose felt her mouth open a tiny bit in surprise, no words coming out at first. At first, she thought that maybe Scandal was joking... but then, in the world that they lived in, it was hardly impossible, even if hard to believe. "Okay, so... really, really old. I don't suppose you got anything special out of the deal, too, did you?"
"Well, I was born during the Renaissance, if that's any indication." Scandal leaned back a bit more, her eyes turning back to Cassie and her flash cards. Something peculiar about that girl. "So, I've had a lot of time to learn a lot of things. Also, I'm not particularly easy to kill by normal methods, either. I just tend to... well, get better. Pretty quickly."
"Huh, not a bad deal," Rose said, tapping her fingers lightly against her arms. "So you're, what immortal or something? I suppose I'll live longer than normal with this body—it heals pretty fast, too—but nowhere near that long."
She followed the woman's gaze back to Cassandra, who sat still, completely focused on her flashcards with her legs swinging below her on the chair. The girl didn't seem to be paying any attention to the conversation. "You know, um... I don't think I've actually thanked you guys or anything for taking us in, since, well, I'm not big on the whole thanking thing. But... all we have is each other, you know, Cass and I, and we've been on the move a lot. It's nice to have a place we can settle down in... even if only for a while. So, yeah, you know... thanks."
"You're, uh... welcome. The Six does start to feel like a family after a while, even with the new members and whatnot. Despite all the chaos and the bloodshed, the horrible deeds and the cheap booze, we more or less have each other's backs." Scandal breathed in deeply. She considered herself a decent leader, but Rose was different. It seemed more like she needed a mother than a band of cutthroat psychopaths to take care of her. She allowed herself a light snicker at the prospect of siccing Bane on her—at least it'd get him off of her back for a while.
"Family..." Rose muttered. Something she had never really had much of, not for a long, long time. Shaking the thought from her mind, she pushed herself away from the wall and gave Cassandra a little wave towards the bed. "Come on, Cass, time for bed."
The girl flipped through one more flashcard before putting the stack down and then sliding out of her seat to head towards the bed. She stopped momentarily, giving Scandal a long look, as the woman was currently sitting where they would be sleeping.
"Scandal, you mind?" Rose said. "We need to use that bed."
"Yes, I absolutely mind. No bed for you," the woman said playfully as she stood up, smoothing out the blankets where she had been sitting on them and heading for the door. "Goodnight, you two. Don't have too much fun without me."
"Uh... right," Rose said, giving the woman a puzzled look. Too much fun? What? They were just going to sleep... With a small shrug, she pulled the blankets back, allowing Cass to crawl in a second later and curl up in the sheets, eyes closing. Rose followed, pulling the blanket back over them; instantly, Cass reached her arms out and latched them around her midsection, holding tightly. "Later. Hit the light on your way out, would you?"
"Yeah, sure." Scandal paused, reaching for the wall to flick the light before closing the door and heading back out into the 'living room', which had once been the lobby of this strange, clinical new House of Secrets. Hopefully everything turned out well for Rose and the kid, even if it didn't sound like she was searching for her father for hugs and kisses. The woman inhaled steadily and poured herself a rocks-glass full of brandy, drinking about half of it in a single, steep swig.
(Have no idea what Rose and Cassandra are doing together? Read Deathstroke and Ravager to find out their story!)