BY INVITATION ONLY Epic Crossover - Suicide Squad "Bayou Leave"

Michale CS

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At New Orleans Country Club...

The map was pretty... basic. It didn't really show more than the Google Maps of the area did. One big building where the members clubhouse was, a few smaller buildings, showers, gift shop, 3 Star restaurant. Some Tennis courts as well as the golf course rounded out the layout.

Suddenly, Red Hood sensed movement right before the door was shadowed. A blonde woman was leaning against the doorframe. The silhouette looked eerily like - naw couldn't be. And it wasn't. "If you wanted a job all ya had to do was ask. Didn't have to knock the poor guy out."

The woman had a baseball bat on her as well as a few other weapons, and took a step inside. "Relax boyo, I just wanna find out why you and your crew are here, is all."
Barb Wire.jpg

She stepped into the light from the glare outside. "I'm just supposed to keep you busy while Jonah talks to your friend. There's plenty of ways to keep busy. It's really up to you if we just shoot the breeze or... each other. Me, I'm game for either."
Dipper Dipper

***
The absolute moment that Slade opened that door his combat precognition kicked in. From just a few paces away, a Desert Eagle, the big one, the 50 Cal, was pointed at him. It was held by a man that looked like he'd seen Harvey Dent's beautician. "Heh. T'woudln't be fair. You ain't got all your toys." The gun was lowered, slightly, and the man tipped the edge of his hat forward.

Jonah Hex.jpg

He gestured to a wet bar along one wall of the room. "Grab yourself a whisky, Mister Wilson, and take a seat." The man walked over and sat in one of the plush chairs in the room, and looked over at Slade. "Slick operation. Woulda worked if every shadow on the property wasn't a goddamned tattletale. Oh, even if you're here on one of your assignments, set and have a whisky first. I understand yer trade, Hell I did it for a long time. If I'm yer mark though, gonna be a damned shame to louse up your record when ya fail." Why don't you jes tell me why you're here, and let's get on with it."

Cush Almighty Cush Almighty

At Greenwood Cemetery...

Stan was running at Bane waving his arms frantically. Behind him well... was what looked like... a Zombie in SHIELD uniform?

Jasper_Sitwell_(Earth-616)_SHIELD_Vol_3_9_001.png
Stan was saying something but it was hard to hear from the distance he was at.

B Breach


At Tulane University...

The drawers had, well, junk in them. Until you looked closer. It looked like these were partially built machines of some sort, shoved in the bigger drawers, numbered with little tags on them. #18 #19 #21

The small drawer had the usual accoutrements you'd expect in a top desk drawer. And under a false bottom, a little card that comes with every safe in case you forget your combination. The method by which to reset this particular safe.

Inside the safe:
Several stacks of cash, $100 bills, bundled.
A gold-tinted pistol, with the word M.I.D.A.S. engraved on the side of it.
And a card for the newly rebranded OsCorp, now known as UsCorp - The number was just their 1-800 number but scrawled on the back was a code of some kind - X191519

"Oh hoho, I've heard of the MIDAS gun. Vibranium rifling and electromagnetic charge, makes trouble for any kind of armor, even if your name is Stark... And my old friend rears her ugly head again... My how the plot sickens..." Nygma said, though he still had the disguise up.

Gands Gands LuckycoolHawk9 LuckycoolHawk9
 
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Gands

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James Proudstar aka Warpath.

"These machines are maybe practice versions? How much, if any, of this stuff goes to Waller ? And.. Are you doing something with the number Professor ?
 
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His precognition wouldn't help him this time. Slade was face to face with a 50 cal desert eagle being held by one ugly son of a bitch. "Well shit, that's a big gun." He said calmly, not showing any real reaction to the gun that could take his head off. When he mentions Slade's toys, he smiles. "Toys? Not sure what you mean by that cowboy." He said putting on a poor southern accent. Anytime someone would catch Slade out of costume and still recognize he was Deathstroke, he'll just deny it. Play dumb as a rock. In a court of law, he hasn't been proven without a doubt to be the infamous Deathstroke. You ask why? Good lawyers. The type that got OJ off and that wear the star of David around their necks. Helps to pay off the jury too.

When the ugly bastard offered Slade a drink, he walked over to the bar and eyed the selection. He noticed a bottle of Everclear and hopped over the bar table to grab it. "If you don't mind." he said as he hopped the bar again and took a seat. He then took a swig of the Everclear, wiping his lips once removing the bottle. "That's some good stuff." He then looked at the scar on the cowboys face as he asked Slade questions.

"You look like you ate hot grits out the damn pot and it melted through your face. Or were you drinking this stuff and like an idiot, lit a match and tossed it into your mouth?" He started laughing. "You friend's with two-face? He still mad I through him into Gotham river?" "Not that I would ever interact with a dangerous criminal because I'm just your average joe."Once Slade finished insulting and teasing the disfigured cowboy, he decided to answer his question.

"Well, If I am the man you think I am, I'm an employee of the government today. Not here to kill you, don't even care to learn your name either. My squad and I were sent to New Orleans to find a pair of mutants and recover some sort of technology that could create supersoldiers. This is all hypothetical by the way, I'm just some average joe working for a bunch of rich assholes who probably fucked their cousin's once or twice. A GPS signal was found around here, and I'm just scooping the place out." He then took a swig of liquor. "By the way, If you were my mark, not saying I'm some world assassin or mercenary, I'd had killed you by now."

Slade than started to scratch his right leg.

Michale CS Michale CS
Dipper Dipper
B Breach
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Gands Gands
 

Michale CS

Ignorance of grammar is not an excuse.
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"Grits! Hah! That's a new one. Haveta remember that, next time someone asks me how I got my good looks." He shook his head.

"Real story is I died." He laughed. "I know you don't care what my name is but it's just neighbourly... Jonah Hex is the name. And if we're dealing in hypotheticals, then, hypothetically, my friend Barb is hypothetically having a cozy talk with your teammate out at the guard shack. And hypothetically we might be able to help you out, depending on just which pair of mutants gone missing."

Jonah finally holstered the big gun, so quickly even Slade had a hard time following it. 'And I don't doubt you could have killed me, son, trouble is, I don't stay dead. Devil don't want me and God wants no part of my ugly face so they just send me right back. Kinda like that fella next door."

Cush Almighty Cush Almighty
 
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Breach

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After Bane saw the approaching shield Zombie agent, he leap, like a wild jungle cat; his hand reaching out and grips the creature’s head, the top part. In one quick motion he tears off its head and with Bane’s other hand he put his fist straight through it’s chest, just in case it was paranormal zombie.”Are there more of these undead?”, Bane says has he looks around the cemetery to see if there are more undead coming.

Michale CS Michale CS Dipper Dipper Cush Almighty Cush Almighty Gands Gands
 
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Michale CS

Ignorance of grammar is not an excuse.
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"Well, that's just rude." The head says, as the rest of the body reforms. "I usually get at least an 'Ahh! It's a zombie!' before they attack."

"I was trying to warn you kid, that's Agent Sitwell. He's a zombie, so they assigned him to watch over Cyrus Gold's cemetery. Seems I was too late, Sitwell."

"It's fine, Stan. Actually, having my head ripped off finally got that crick out of my neck. I might actually ask you to do some more chiropractic work on me sometime." That last was directed at Bane, as Sitwell leveled a crooked smile at him.

"I feel like this is partly my fault, though. I should have told the kid you were coming. So impulsive these young ones are."

"So, you look strong, and since you were such a good zombie slayer why don't you go with me down into that tomb? I brought rope. It's here... somewhere. Ah. Over there where my arm fell off." He staggers over and slings the rope over his shoulder, and starts walking to the tomb.

B Breach
 
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"That's a tad forward, don't you think? Where's the roundabout way of telling me you want a fight? The vagueness? It's not fun when it's not vague." Because let's be honest; she wouldn't be out here confronting him if she didn't want some sort of fight. They always did. Jason hauled the security guard back into his chair and patted him gently on the top of his head, mocking.

He slipped his pistols into his hands and stepped forward. "So. Tell me about your friend."
 

Michale CS

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Barb put her baseball bat aside and... brought out a guitar? She leaned against the wall near the doorframe and started strumming. "Well... his name is Jonah Hex..."

She looked back to him, seemingly unconcerned about the pistols, though her own was tucked into her belt. And well, she started to sing?

She'd go on for the full five minutes unless Red Hood stopped her somehow...



Dipper Dipper
 
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Breach

Edgebabby
Bane just gave him a nod and put the Zombie’s head back between his shoulders. Bane follows the zombie to the tomb. When they got near the hole Bane measure the distance and he says, “I don’t need the rope.” After he says that, he jumps down the hole. Michale CS Michale CS Gands Gands Cush Almighty Cush Almighty Dipper Dipper
 
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"Hex..." Jason mumbled at the familiarity of the name. Something was off about this whole situation, but Alfred had yet to get back to him about his suspicions. Busy, or was his comm. jammed? Deciding against becoming a sitting duck, he fired off a shot at the woman. Damn rubber bullets, they made him careless.

In any case, that would shut her up, and hopefully alert Slade that something was up.
 
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James Hunter

James was surprised that it was a dead bolt when he picked it and he had the strangest feeling he wasn't going to lie what was about to happen.

God, fucking hell. Of course he found the dead body. Why wouldn't he find the dead body? It was just his luck too, as in he had none.

Thankfully he knew enough to jump the fuck back when a dead body came out of the closet. He noticed the skimpy pieces of outfit and groaned. So DuPreee was one of those pervs. God, why couldn't he deal with a normal person. James noticed the puzzle pieces and decided to see if any of them fit together. He doubted it was going to be easy to fit them together, but well, there was nothing else left to do. It seemed that after a few minutes, the safe and drawers were open.

James walked over to the filing cabinets to see if anything else was happening there they missed. After having a dead body swung in his face, he wasn't in a talking mood.

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Either this man was delusional our he was telling the truth. Two face's had offered some help to Slade, depending on the mutants he was searching for. Hex mentioned that his friend Barb was dealing with hood, hopefully, he Slade won't have to rescue him like some sort of damsel. Jonah also mentioned that he died, something Slade currently believed is croc shit. "Some you can help me huh? Well I'm hypothetically looking for Gambit and Rouge. Those two famous X-Men."

When Jonah holstered his weapon, Slade ceased his plan to reach for his. He talked again about how neither the hell or heaven wanted him. "That all nonsense anyway. Your little story might be nonsense too." When he made his nod to Solomon Grundy to another swig of hard liquor. "That monster. Going to cause a lot of trouble eventually."

"You say I can't kill you. I'll drop the act and admit I'm Deathstroke. World's greatest assassin. " He sounded arrogant when he said it, but it was the truth. "You think I can't find some magic user to cook me up a spell to let me kill you for good? All I'll need is one bullet. Better hope you don't piss the country club of yours off."
 
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Michale CS

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At Tulane University...

The puzzle pieces felt... warm to Bulwark. And they gave slightly. It's almost like they were... alive. But that's impossible, right? The filing cabinets were... well just typical paperwork for a professor at a private college.

"Oh the number is easy... the number is a simple cipher. Number to letter. So... this is simply SOS. Appears he didn't call it, or did he? Our immediate problem, gentlemen, is getting out of here. If we leave and no one else enters before Dupree's body is discovered, we're implicated. If we call someone in, we're most likely also implicated. So, our only option... is to frame someone else. I nominate the weak-brained bureaucrat guarding our door. Unless... someone else has a better idea of how to extricate ourselves from here without raising attention from the authorities?"

Gands Gands LuckycoolHawk9 LuckycoolHawk9

At Greenwood Cemetery...

When Bane jumped in, he thought the thirty foot fall wouldn't be a problem...
He was wrong.
The sides of the shaft after you got past the actual tomb jutted out and were jagged, catching on his clothes and causing small contusions. Nothing he couldn't handle but annoying.
He thought that once he hit bottom the water would be shallow.
He was wrong.
He plunged underwater over his head and deep enough to where, standing on the bottom, he could not reach up to the surface of the water.
He thought the water was still.
He was wrong.
The current was strong, and there was little room to move around. Bane stared to brace himself against the walls, surely he was strong enough to climb up enough to get his head above water.
He was wrong.
But only because he wasn't alone. Thick vines wrapped around his legs and yanked him down a passageway, dumping him unceremoniously into a grotto.
When he stood up, the vines released him, and a creature he may have heard about stood before Bane.


swamp_thing.jpg
"You're not Grundy. You're human. Did he send you? Does the abomination that avoids death fear me so much that he hires simple human mercenaries to delay me from his ultimate penalty and deliverance? Where. Is. Grundy?" Swamp Thing demanded.
In the distance, a call was heard. "You okay down there? I heard some splashing."

"Another abomination. By the Green I will destroy them all... but that one is... minor. Answer me, human. Where is Grundy?"

B Breach

At New Orleans Country Club...

Guard shack! Baby, Guard shack!...
PANG! The rubber bullet cracked off of the guitar. "You shot my guitar. Who shoots a guitar? You some sort of music hater?" Barb dropped the damaged instrument and drew her bat, swinging at Red Hood. This was... a bad place to be in close quarters with someone with a bat. The next minute or so found the Hood taking blow after blow from Barb, while getting his licks in as well, both with the rubber-bullet gun and anything else he could do hand to hand.

It ended with Barb shoving the guard off the seat and sitting in it; black eye, bleeding from her lip, a rib or two cracked and what might be a broken wrist. Todd had to admit, she was good. If she were wearing anywhere near the kind of armor he was? She stood a good chance of beating him. "Okay, my job's done. You can go see Jonah now, unless you're gonna chop off my head and take my power." Barb spit blood into a trash can, admitting defeat.

When it was all said and done, he was going to really feel the results of this fight in about an hour. He was pretty sure he had sprained his wrist and she'd nearly dislocated his right shoulder. The bruises, yeah, they'd show up soon enough. About then, a large file downloaded to Todd's wrist computer... all the information on the Hellfire Club in New Orleans, its membership, and its current mission, overtly, was a war on drugs. Really.

Over a bottle of Everclear...
"Gambit and Rogue, eh? Well Gambit runs one of those fancy-schmancy little food review newspapers in town, but he and his family are bounty hunters. If they gone missing, they probably run afoul of T.O. Morrow. Morrow was spotted across the way last week. I sent Tyrone to go look to see what was going on, but we was too late. My guess? Morrow made some kind of deal with old Cyrus Gold. Or jes robbed his grave. Ain't none of our nevermind what they do as long as they stay clear of us and don't put no more poison on the streets. Hell ain't that what the damned Justice League is for? Trackin down nutcases and lockin em up?"

Dipper Dipper Cush Almighty Cush Almighty
 
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LuckycoolHawk9

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James Hunter

James decided to address the puzzle pieces after he checked the file cabinets and saw it was nothing. God, he was about to look crazy for what he was going to ask, but it was far from the weirdest thing he had ever done.

" I might have a minute, but I'm going to need that gun and for you to not think I am crazy," he said, walking over to the take the MIDAS and sliding on the gloves from the Rouge costume. ( He may have stolen them earlier.) He propped Dupree up and placed the gun in his hand and had it aimed at the skull. " If I got the angles right, it will look like he killed himself with the MIDAS. Also, as for the second reason, hey puzzle pieces are you alive?" He asked, realizing that it was far from the weirdest thing. He had dealt with the spiders after all.

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Gands

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Warpath aka James Proudstar

" Not the direction I would have gone, but it might work. Professor, how about calling herself, letting Argus handle the body and tech. That gun is probably something they are after right ? Time of death will clear us anyway, on top of us being X-Men ! "
 
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Michale CS

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At Tulane University...
"Oh, are you that uninformed about the weapon? If you discharge that, it will penetrate DuPree, the wall behind him, the floor of the level above, anything in that room, the ceiling and the roof of the building, and possibly any stray bird that may be flying overhead... unless you use your power to stop that bullet's kinetic energy cold..." Riddler pointed out. "Also, the man has been dead some time. Basic forensics will show that the shot happened well after death, even if you could justify a man killing himself by shooting and hanging simultaneously... the striation marks around his neck will clearly show... wait..." Nygma moved in, and looked more carefully at the body. On his hands and face there are deep imprints, once you look close. Imprints that look curiously like... Jigsaw puzzle pieces.

"Well then... to answer your query, those puzzle pieces are almost definitely alive and may be what or whom hanged Mister Dupree." Edward clapped delightedly. "Oh a puzzle about a puzzle, how delightfully ironic. I believe that Mister Dupree was using his device on female students, turning them into superheroines... but one of them, well, didn't turn out quite so heroic..."


He looked over to Warpath and nodded. "Objectively, calling ARGUS in on this might be wise... we have who knows how many women that Dupree powered up, a link to UsCorp, a very illegal firearm, and a murder made to look like a suicide. Well, they do call us the Suicide Squad, hey?" He clapped again.

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Michale CS

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Under Greenwood Cemetery...

"That seems... Unlikely, with regards to the other abomination. You, however... Are most likely telling the truth... But this will ensure that. A small spike shoots out and hits Bane in the shoulder. It seems to... take root, and flattened out to a dime-sized circle.

"That is only a homing pod. It will not harm you and only live a few days. Find Grundy, then tear it off. I will know where you are when you do that. You cannot hope to defeat Grundy alone. Let the Green push back the Grey as it was meant to. If you remove the pod prematurely, I shall conclude that you are truly working with Grundy and will share his fate..."

A wall of thick vines then divides Swamp Thing from Bane... And other vines snake past him, giving him an easy way back up...

Halfway through the climb, he gets hit on the head annoyingly with the rope that Stan tossed down.

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Gands

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At Tulane University

Warpath aka James Proudstar

" Okay Professor, I'm phoning home. ( he uses the call mom phone, waiting a moment. ) Yes, James Proudstar, We have a situation. Yes, a dead body, there is some evidence here and remainder tech.. We could leave with it, but it will leave some other meta's in a very bad light. Myself, James Hunter and Mister Nygma. Yes, Thank you. "

He looks at the other two now.

" As far as that gun, I might say Nygma, you've earned that. Would make a nice surprise for anyone seeing just the chair. Ol' Cobblepot said it was a bad choice doing business with someone who murders family to get ahead. But seeing that you survived it, he'd be happy, for a price of course... to enact some action on your behalf in the future regarding that woman. "
 
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Anime, Furry, Drama, Modern Fantasy
"I like it just fine," he grumbled. "But whatever's coming out of that guitar isn't music."

Body armor was a damn god-send in these engagements. He was lucky to have it at all. In the end, however, he felt more or less like he'd gotten himself into a scuffle he could easily have avoided, and was irritable as a result. He ignored her after that and turned his attention to his the compact computer on his wrist, where Alfred had presumably finally gotten back to him about the club. It only took a beating to get it, too. He was on a roll.

Jason sifted through the dossiers of club members, its history, its connections, and every diagram of the building's innards he could find to piece together a bigger picture. Slade would want to know this. Probably. Question was: did Jason care enough to tell him?
 
  • Sympathy
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