"Hey... I'm just stopping by to see how you're doing after...well, y'know. Amber?" Jeremy said, sounding only almost completely concerned. There was a hair of a tone that he knew what she'd say; that she'd make up some excuse to dismiss him before the real conversation could start, "Do you need anything?"

Jeremy made a face in response to the forthcoming reveal. Having successfully swung the tables back in her favor, he sat down, anticipating more openness in the subsequent conversation. "Well, thanks for the reassurance and for skipping past a potentially agonizing game of cat and mouse. Now that we're on a more revealed page, how are you? And please consider that this isn't my first walk in the park with some shady stuff...you and I are well aware I didn't get a receipt with every item that sits on my bookshelves."

"Ah, well, most people would write me off as some fumbling idiot, and they'd be right to. I was picked on by bullies and jocks alike through school so I got a good 12 years of learning black and white was the same color underneath. I can't claim to know or understand anything you're going through, but you must want out if you're living in a place like this," Jeremy comforted, leaning in slightly. He wondered how to translate Ron's words of wisdom into something useful, leaving a slight pause. "Like, I must've known I couldn't get away from out of my habits if I didn't move somewhere densely populated with heroes. I didn't realize it would also mean I'd be colliding head-on into being one...which I'm still not so sure I like, but a meal ticket is a meal ticket right now."

He loosened the friendly comfort hug and sat back into the arm of the couch, hoping to better engage Katrina while she sat next to him.

Jeremy sighed. "I can't say I've heard much. Journalists don't bother with outing the villains of crimes in fear of repercussion. Even heroes don't get mentioned for stopping the random crimes. Only the big ones that grandstand their crimes and the big names that take them down make any news outlets worth printing these days. I sympathize with the need to restart after the brown stuff hits the spinny thing. I think that's why I moved to Whitehold. So, uh, is Talon this woman you killed before?"

Jeremy grimaces slightly at the reveal, but it fades quickly as a mere initial reaction processed through, "Cool...I think....Oh no, I don't do spandex. Not sure I'd want any notoriety good or bad.."

"It's nothing really, sorry...Um.. I guess I just hoped you were another civilian. As for why not, I don't think I'd look good in tights for one. For two, power and reputation escalate. Like the US and Russia during the Cold War...Each side tried to get bigger and badder and win this hypothetical scenario until it turned from 'who would win' into 'who would die the most and fastest.' All because one side buttered the bottom of their toast instead of the top. Vigilantism is just another spoke in the ever-accelerating pendulum between good and evil."

Jeremy leans back in the couch, thinking about his answer. "Well, um... I didn't think I was uncommonly relaxed around you. I'm like this with everyone in my own way. Sure I'm not this chatty, with Rotten Luck I'm actively listening for life tips on what might happen here or there, then again when I first met Lady Nova I didn't want to do or say anything that could get me in trouble. I think it goes back to getting past a lot of formalities when you watched me puke up my beer after I had too much pot."

The knock on the door brought a seriousness to Jeremy. He promptly fiddled with his wristbands as he looked between Katrina and the door. After the reveals just made, Jeremy wouldn't let himself caught unguarded, "You expecting someone?"

Roxanne eyes Jeremy up and down and smiles, responding in a pleasant British accent. "Maybe boyfriend... that's a new one. It's a pleasure to meet you, Jeremy." she said, shaking his hand.

"Katrina, a word?" she asked, moving towards the kitchen.

"The situation is that your maybe boyfriend doesn't need to be anywhere near this. I don't want to have to knock him out to stop him from following us. I don't want him going off half-cocked and throwing a wrench into this operation. I've seen bands like those before. That means he has powers that he is not in control of. Tell him to go home before this op gets any more FUBAR than it already is." Roxanne said, her tone and manner severe, but not angry.

"Yeah, I get it," Jeremy didn't bother hiding his annoyance. He said nothing else as he left the apartment, avoiding eye contact to both residents. He wasn't too annoyed for long, because he had some books he was overdue to read waiting for him.

Roxanne face-palmed as the young man got offended and left in an embarrassed huff. Then she groaned as Katrina chased after him. "And this is why I won't date anyone under 30. Their egos are too damn fragile." she opined to an empty apartment.

Ron was walking out of his apartment eating an apple. Spotting Jeremy "You look a bit down Jeremy what's up?"

Jeremy looked up, already moved past his annoyance at the rather polite booting from a meeting that deep down he really didn't want to attend. "Oh hey Ron. It's nothing but a scratched ego; Not even bruised really. Went to talk to Kat but she's got some friend talking 'grown-up' stuff about something and asked me to leave."

He didn't realize he had left his wristbands on Kat's coffee table. His mind was on the two books that his friend had delivered, and had a full evening to dive into them for ideas and to gain some academic understanding of what his powers could do. In the back of his mind, he worried about such escalation he had just theorized minutes earlier.

"Stomach the situation. That's the heart of my fears Jeremy, literally. I'm what I am and my control wanes when wounded that's why I'm not insanely rushing into danger I know I have limits. Those limits however don't end with death they end with me becoming mindless with raging hunger. I never feel full, never satisfied, I always feel hungry I learned to ignore it. That's why I always have something to nawl on in my pockets."

He looked down the hall "I woke up one time soon after I changed warm blood on my lips chewing on warm meat. It was someone's pet dog. I had a cop friend tell the family it was hit by a car." He then looks at Jeremy "It's not that I can't understand why some people kill. More then once I wanted to. It's what I could become that's scares me, because as much as I try to ignore it. I crave that taste of warm fresh. Enjoy your books Jeremy." He then headed down the hall for Talon's apartment.

Walking into the apartment "Jeremy a smart guy he understands. Might not like it, but he understands. Kat I tell you again I can't be involved if this is to kill her, trust me I have my reasons."

"Not much wiggle room there Kat. Either she dies or she gets incarcerated, beyond that she's running free. Thought we could kill you or make it look like your dead she get's her thrill and leaves. Still means she's out there and once word of Talon being still active she return so faking your death not a long term solution."

Roxanne nodded to Ron as he entered, then stood by quietly and processed information as Katrina and Ron discussed Lady Nightingale's fate.

"Katrina, can you recount, exactly if possible, the events of Lady Nightingale's death?"

"We would need to know what that serum can do. Clearly rapid regeneration would be one the list to survive impalement." He looked over see the impassive face but it didn't fool him for a second his nostrils flared catching the pheromones of her distress.

"I don't think so Kat. Like I said from what I saw she the type that wouldn't let her mouse get away. Only reason you got away is because you got the upper hand I'm sure of it. Don't start doubting yourself now you just be falling into her grasp." He sat down "I can't teleport randomly I need to have line of sigh or memorized a location. I also have a limit of range and time. Give or take five miles for range and ten minutes for time. So I can just pop a portal under her feet and send her into space."

"It's a matter of not being there. Look at me Katrina I'm a monster, you have to understand I am always hungry. A fresh warm body to me is like a bottle of rum to an alcoholic. It's not that I don't approve of killing. It's that I can't be involved, as in I can't be there."

"With that said, I'm assuming that Strix is a retroviral agent?" Roxanne asked, taking the bait.

Roxanne snuffed at Katrina's reticence. "If you need her dead, just say the word. I'll take care of it."

"That where I come in. One thing I can do well is soak up damage, few people can ignore a raging zombie monster. Just need to make sure I have plenty of snacks in my pockets."

"Infiltration, demolitions, direct conflict, ambush, suppression, misdirection, guerrilla warfare. You name it, I've done it. As for killing her permanently, I've spent a great amount of time fighting people who have healing factors. Consequently, I've developed methods for hampering regeneration and then permanently destroying the bodies of regenerators." Roxanne answered.

"Well I'm sure I can call up a few souls to hold her. She bound to have a few in the underworld who want to share their anger with her. Given just the three of us are here is this the entire party?"

"I'll need to make a stop along the way, but it won't take long. Talon, you already know the address. Here's the address for you, Ron." Roxanne said, talking and writing.

"Destroy that after you've memorized it." Roxanne told him as she put her jacket back on and headed for the door.

It wasn't long after his shopping trip that he was portal jumping to the address he was given. He didn't know the place well enough to go there directly so he was creating portals from place to place. The dark portals might be the only reason someone could tell it was Rotten, the suit he had on was padded and armored black with red slash marks on the legs and arms. The chest had a Y like design on it again with that blood red, the biggest change was the black mask with a skull image hiding his normal monstrous features. He also had a chain wrapped around his chest like a sash and he attached a sickle to the end of it. He came to the address and stood on the roof of the next building looking down. He took a deep breath it been a long time sense he used this identity and like his life it had changed a lot. Back then he was a fighter in the underground fight rings and clubs, sometimes it was bloody, other times life threatening.

Born in a broken home his mother a druggie his father abusive. It stilled bothered him what started what. Either way one day it went to far his mother died and his father was arrested and he was sent to the foster care program. It wasn't long before he was in the wrong crowd and earning some coin pick pocketing and minor crimes. Then he got into the Gym and started learning to fight. The big buck, a ticket out of the slums of his childhood... of course he got involved in the underground fights. He was good at it too perhaps hurting people ran in the blood he earned a nick name. The Reaper.

He knelt down settling among the shadows along the roof top.

"I'm already here." Nightstrike said as she emerged from the shadows of an industrial AC unit near the center of the roof. Once again, she was in her full combat armor and kit, with a broadsword on her back, a double row of throwing knives on her left forearm, combat knife on her chest, and twin pistols in quick-draw holsters on her hips. Added to this was a satchel of mines in a butt pack and a right wrist-mounted grapnel launcher. Covering her head was a skull-shaped combat mask.

"I still don't understand why you're seeking only to detain, but I will accede to your wishes." she said as she lined up with the two of them. She reached into a pouch on her belt and pulled out two small objects. "Here, take these for communication. Peel the backing off the strip and stick it to your throat, then place the bud in your ear. Touch the strip with your thumb and forefinger to speak. They're subvocal, so all you have to do is speak with the barest whisper and it will transmit over an encrypted channel."

"Now for strategy. Rott, do you want to infiltrate with Talon and I or kick the door in?"

"Rott, you might want to have a piece of jerky on standby, as there's something I should show you two before we go any further." Nightstrike said, undoing the Velcro strap of her left glove and slipping it off. She tucked it into her belt, then pulled a one foot by one foot sheet of material out of her left thigh pocket and placed it on the ground in front of her. Roxanne then unclasped her knife and let it drop into her hand. Holding her left hand up so they could both see it, she sliced a deep furrow into the meat of her palm, cutting nearly to the bone. It bled for just shy of a second, the stream falling onto the sheet and instantly being absorbed.

As the two rogues watched, the wound sealed up and the skin re-knitted itself until her palm was whole and unblemished again. Roxanne knelt and cleaned her knife with the absorbent sheet, then re-sheathed it and folded up the sheet, tucking it into the zippered right thigh pocket. She then strapped her glove back on and stood back up.

"In addition to that, I have superhuman speed, strength, agility, reflexes, balance, endurance, durability, and senses. Any questions?"

"Why am I not surprised that you were involved in that museum job?" Nightstrike asked, studying Talon.

"As for my demonstration, Rott, I have long found that visual aids are for more effective than simple verbal assurances. You're not squeamish, are you?" she said with a teasing tone.

"That plan sounds like it could work. It doesn't utilize Talon's skillset very well, but it will probably throw Lady Nightingale off, as she'll be expecting Talon to be the one doing the sneaking. Your thoughts, Talon?" she asked, looking over at the young thief.

"Well seems it's lunch time." With that Rotten fell, into one of his portals and ended up landing behind the three. "Knock, Knock the reapers coming." Then he twirled his sickle chain and then threw the sickle at the one with the weighted cable.

Nightstrike stalked silently through the smoke, her eyes never leaving her target as she watched her swings. She may have thought she was being random, but every roughly eight seconds, she was raising the bladed staff and twirling it in front of her at a forty-five degree angle, leaving her flank and back exposed. Nightstrike started counting and as her count reached seven, she charged at the woman from the right.

Nightstrike's blade was held high, with her intention being to sweep it down along the woman's spine, shattering vertebrae and cleaving her spinal cord in half.

Ron dropped. He didn't duck or roll one of his portals appeared under him and he dropped. Right on top of the woman bring his chain bound left forearm down for the woman's head the blow would be strong enough to knock her out if not a full blown concussion. "Seems I'm a tad rusty fighting with a chain. Been three years since I fought in the underground after all. Was just using this girl for warm ups."

Ron stood up from his fall tackle. "It's simple Nightstrike to them she's a traitor someone who broke what ever oaths they make. To her they are the only family she had yeah they will fight her but she wants to show them the truth not take them out. Of course I'm guessing your free to tell it otherwise Talon. Just that how I feel about the fighters in the pits, Not as deadly as this order, but still a brotherhood a family that isn't." Shrugs "The real reason I agreed to this, I understand it."

"Death comes to all, young, old, rich, poor. Death is the equalizer. From what I seen you enjoy the death of others... tell me are you so afraid of your own that you do everything you can to cheated death? My Lady Death was disappointed you didn't come, she heard so much about you from those you sent to her. No one here sees Talon as someone who an angel, there blood on her hands as there is blood on ours. Hel awaits." Yeah so he slipped up there using Hel name. Thought given how Hel and Hell sounds alike he doubt anyone would notice unless they knew who he was and the connection.

He started swinging that scikle chain spinning it around with his right hand.

Nightstrike, her helmet having protected her eyes and ears from the flashbang, safed the grenade and dropped it into her pouch, then stepped backwards into the shadows of the industrial AC unit and vanished.

"I love hide and seek!" Nightstrike said loudly, having made her way silently and unseen, across the rooftops to where she was currently. Her voice revealed her position to be thirty feet away from the water tower, just as a CLANK CLANK was heard directly beneath Lady Nightingale's inverted position on the fifty foot tower. The two incendiary grenades she'd thrown magnetically attached themselves to two of the supports and detonated. The grenades destructive area was small, only five feet in every direction, but inside that radius it was hot enough to vaporize ten feet of the steel supports.

The two remaining supports squealed as they gave way and the tower fell sideways, in the direction Lady Nightingale was facing. As the tower fell, Nightstrike vanished into the deepening shadows again.