Hatred Girl, Her World Full of Screams

[ The feed clicks on and Rose stares into the camera. She seems to be back in her room, knees drawn up against her chest as she leans back against the headboard of her bed. For those who saw her, she looks much improved, not quite healthy, but most definitely not as sickly as she had been. Her skin seems to be returning to it's normal colour, losing the pasty quality it carried when she arrived. The bags under her eyes have lessened and she seems far more together and assured.

The cigarette between her lips probably helps with that, though heaven knows where she acquired those from. Resting her chin on her knees, she breathes the smoke out into the air, watching it curl away for a moment before returning her attention to the camera. ]

Figure I owe a couple people a thank you. You know who you are. So thanks, I guess. [ Never let it be said that Rose Wilson is good with gratitude. ] Question, what the fuck are we supposed to do on this boat? Twiddle our thumbs until the Admiral decides it's time to screw with our shit again?

What's a girl got to do to get a nice, shiny sword around here?

[[ Private to Wanda ]]

You up for that drink? Don't know how it'll mix with the meds I'm on. But there's worse ways to go out than on a bender, huh?

[[ Private to Clint ]]

So boss-man. I'm up for our little meet and greet whenever you are. Sorry for standing you up last time. Some shit came up I had to deal with.

[ The video feed turns on, a burst of light and then blur as if someone is turning the camera around trying to figure it out. There is the sound of muffled cursing before a face finally resolves on the screen. A face that looks intensely displeased. One intensely blue eye glares at the lens as if the camera were the cause of all her woes, the other is hidden beneath an eyepatch. To say that the young woman staring into the camera is displeased would be an understatement. She looks positively ready to explode. ]

So let me get this straight, this is some kind of space prison ship, I've been brought here for "rehabilitation," whatever the fuck that means and I'm stuck until I'm "deemed fit to return." This is seven different kinds of bullshit. I hope you people realise the.

[ Letting out an exasperated sigh, she props the camera up against something and perches herself on a chair a little ways back, revealing more of what she's wearing. It seems to be a costume of some kind, the mask tucked in her belt and the scabbards on her back are empty. Bringing a knee up to her chest, she rests her chin on top of it, still glaring at the camera. ]

But whatever. Rose Wilson. Ravager. Nice to meet you Barge. [ Her tone however, implies that she's hardly enthused about the prospect of meeting you, Barge people. ] I'm not gonna be here long or anything so whatever. But yeah. Any of you know where I can get a drink, or how I can get off this damn boat, you know how to get in touch.

Also, I don't need a fucking Warden. I don't need rehab. So you can all piss off.

Should've stayed with the stupid Titans. Least when this kind of shit happened to them I got to keep my swords.