Post by Wade "Deadpool" Wilson on May 27, 2012 22:45:26 GMT -5
“My common sense is tingling!”
DEADPOOL
Name: Wade Winston Wilson
Alias(es): Merc with a Mouth, Jack, Chiyonosake ("whe Wolf of the Rice Wine"), Rhodes, Corpus, Lopez, Hobgoblin, Thom Cruz, Peter Parker.
REGULAR or TEMP Regular
Age: 35 (as of October 23, 2011)
Height: 6’ 2”
Physical Description: Wade Wilson is just a little over six feet tall, with the lean, muscular build of an acrobat and martial artist. Dressed in his standard street clothes, which tend to be slightly baggy, he could be mistaken for thin. He wears his sandy-brown hair short, and tries to part it on the left. This fails frequently, due to "cowl hair", and ususally ends up just looking swept back (on a good day) or like he hasn't bothered with it (on a bad day). He's also quite likely to be found with a day or two worth of sandy-brown stubble, more out of laziness than a fashion statement, although he does take pains to shave if he's planning on trying to impress somebody ("And by somebody I mean women"). He smiles a lot, and uses a lot of gestures when he talks.
It is not quite fair to say that Wade dresses like a slob. He has reasons for favoring baggy clothing, and most of those reasons revolve around freedom of movement and concealing weapons. But he wears t-shirts (typically band logo t-shirts or t-shirts in solid colors) and jeans ("Blue. What other color is there?") a size or two too big, and a leather biker jacket a size too big, and steel-toed boots that fit just right ("because blisters are a b***h"). He sometimes wears a baseball cap as well.
You can get Wade into a slacks and a nice shirt, and sometimes even a blazer. But it better be a good reason. And ties? That "good eason" better be a beautiful woman or an absurdly large check.
Thanks to a mixture of his costume, his nocturnal habits, and his regenerative abilities, Wade has a pale, "you need to get out in the sun more" complexion. He doesn't tan - his regenerative powers deal with UV tissue damage quickly, so his melanocytes don't register that they need to crank out melanin, so he never gets any darker. He has no calluses for similar reasons.
In costume, Wade wears a red and black bodysuit and full-face cowl, made of goretex ("Wicks sweat away, keeps water out, and shows off these abs!") and reinforced with kevlar on the chest and back, forearms, and knees. ("Because, regeneration or no, getting shot sucks.") Web belts and harnesses support his collection of blades, firearms, and gadgets. You can still make out expressions through his mask, mostly because he exaggerates them dramatically.
Face Claim: Ryan Reynolds
Personality: You know that guy in school? The class clown? The guy that's always cracking wise, and getting in trouble with the teachers and the principle, and that doesn't seem to care? Yeah, that's Wade Wilson. And he was like that before Weapon X transformed him into an almost-unkillable wrecking machine. Now he cracks wise and gets in trouble, confident in the fact that he's faster and better and stronger than most of what he'd be getting into trouble with, and that he'll probably survive anything he isn't faster and better and stronger than anyway.
We could probably develop an entire psychological profile here about how the smartassing is a defense mechanism that developed as a result of childhood trauma. We could probably make some argument that his devil-may-care attitude and adrenaline addiction are due to his mother's death at a young age, and how his problems with forming close connections are related to that and to his issues with his abusive father. And it might even be true. He is a whole lot more complex than he lets on.
How so? Well, he actually has a great deal more patience than he lets on, when he feels a need to be patient. He's smarter and more observant than he acts, and has a more developed moral code than he pretends.
But Wade's still the merc with the mouth. And you have to work pretty hard to get past the overly-talkative party boy. And you'll learn that, even with all those hidden depths, he's really does enjoy what he does. So don't feel too bad for him.
Affiliation:Freelance
Identity: Publically known in the right circles. The average Joe on the street probably has no idea who Deadpool is, but the "powers that be" sure do.
Powers or Special Abilities: Deadpool has an accelerated healing factor that was derived from Wolverine during the Weapon X program. The rate of healing is related to how bad the injury is - the more severe the faster is heals. ("Papercuts. God, papercuts. Don't get me started on papercuts.")
The main benefit of this power goes beyond simple healing of any injury both internal and dermal, he can fully re-grow limbs ranging from finger-tips to most of his body. ("Which means, if I'm really hard up for cash, I can sell blood with no problem.")
This power also makes him almost impervious of poisons or toxins for his body heals the damage as it is being caused by the toxin. ("Still hurts! Cyanide sucks!") Due to the healing factor he also has a longer lifespan than normal. Unlike Wolverine's regenerative abilities, Wade's is slightly controlled by his mind. ("I gotta really wanna heal, for it to work really well.")
The healing factor also means his muscular system doesn't produce as much lactic acid, so he is stronger, has greater reflexes, and has greater stamina to the point of exceeding the limits of the human body. ("And I tell you what - a sharp-dressed man? Fuggedaboutit. Every woman's crazy about a man with greater stamina.")
An interesting side-effect of Wade's healing power is that he doesn't scar. In fact, not only does he not scar, but scars and other injuries from the days before he acquired his regenerative powers have faded away. Including all of the plastic surgery he went through in an effort to disguise his identity.
Wade is fully ambidextrous, able to use both hands equally well (and, to a degree, independently). Whether this is a 'power' or just a talent is unclear.
Because his brain is perpetually trying to heal from the blows it has taken over the years, his mind is very difficult for a telepath to understand, (plus it is a kinda terrifying place to be to begin with). ("Hey! I resent that!")
Skills: Wade is an extremely skilled hand to hand combatant and skilled in several forms of unarmed combat techniques. ("I"m the best there is at what I do, baby. Pay no attention to that hairy nutjob with the claws.") He has years of assassination techniques, is a highly trained marksman as well as skilled with bladed weapons. ("Awww. I bet you say that to all the world's finest spec ops trained assassins.") He is fluent in several languages including Japanese, German, Italian and French ("and Pig Latin, and Klingon").
Weapons and Equipment: A wide arrangement of guns and bladed weapons to be used as he sees necessary for doing his job. If he doesn't' have it, he has ways of getting it.
For hand to hand combat, Wade favors his twin katanas ("There can be only one, baby!"). He isn't increadibly choosy, though, having been known to use combat knives, machetes, kitchen knives, and police batons as well. ("And, on one memorable occasion, twin chainsaws!")
His preference for ranged weapons revolves around the concept of interchangable ammunition. He typically carries two Beretta 93R machine pistols and two H&K MP5K-PDW submachine guns. When planning for precision kills, he favors the USMC-issue M40A5. ("Oh, and for whacking a whole room full of creeps? Franchi SPAS-15 combat shotgun! It's pump action and semi-automatic, and it looks wicked cool!")
("You forgot my motorcycle! I've got a 1951 Vincent Black Shadow! How could you forget the bike that takes you home to meet the Sausage Creature?")
Advantages: Wade is almost entirely without fear. Even before he gained his powers, he was willing to do anything at any time, without hesitation. ("Go on. Say it. I was a living Mountain Dew commercial.")
Disadvantages: Wade never shuts up. This does not endear him to a number of people. It also handicaps his ability to be stealthy, and has cost him several lucrative contracts in his time.
Wade has also upset a number of powerful organizations, often by killing individuals those people wanted kept alive. These powerful people typically do not forgive easily.
Occupation: Mercenary ("I prefer 'Conflict Resolution Specialist', thank you.")
Citizenship: Canadian. He might be legally dead, though, and he hasn't really bothered with things like legal passports and such for years.
Place of Birth: Ontario, Canada.
Relatives: Hailey Wilson, mother, deceased. Thomas "Mickey" Wilson, father, deceased ("And good riddance!").
History: There isn't much to say about Wade's childhood. His mother died at a young age of cancer his father was abusive, right until he was shot by one of Wade's friends. After this, he dropped out of high school and lied about his age to get into the military a year early. After a tour of duty - one in which he was what the military describes as a "discipline problem" - he mustered out and went to work as a mercenary - with Blackwater originally, but eventually (for fairly rapid values of "eventually") going freelance.
He's got a code of ethics about these things. He doesn't take contracts on kids, or on people he thinks are "good" people.
His career before Weapon X is difficult to track, mostly because his work was either classified, deniable black ops, or both. It is speculated, mostly because of comments he has made and languages he speaks, that he spent a lot of time in Africa and southeast Asia. This is highly speculative, though.
Shortly after his return to Canada after years in (most likely) Asia, he fell in love with a prostitute, Vanessa Carlysle. He began to dream of a better life, a dream that was shattered when he was diagnosed with cancer. Terrified, he broke off the relationship. After months of treatment, during which he only got worse, he was contacted by representatives of Department K. They dangled the hope of a cure in front of his face, contingent on his willingness to participate in an experimental joint Canadian/American special weapons program: Weapon X.
The "cure" was an attempt to create super-soldiers, using recombinent DNA therapy to engineer the mutant regenerative abilities of a former Weapon X agent (now known as the X-Man 'Wolverine'). The cancer went into remission, kept at bay by his new regenerative powers, and he went to work as a deep black ops agent. This went well for a while, but then he was responsible for a 'friendly-fire' incident that resulted in the death of a fellow Weapon X operative (code-named "Slayback"). This, combined with his strong anti-authoritarian streak, led him to be dismissed from the program.
And by "dismissed", we mean "turned over to Doctor Killebrew at Hospice for testing". And by "testing" we mean "torturing to determine the exact limits of the retroviral-engineered regeneration of subject code-named 'Deadpool'."
Wade considers this to be a low point in his life, although it is where his propensity for endlessly talking and cracking jokes came from. Annoying the hell out of his tormenters gave him something to look forward to while he was regrowing body parts. After six months he was "executed" by having his heart and lungs removed through vivisection. Doctor Killebrew made the mistake of leaving his half-eviscerated corpse in a morgue freezer for the next day. Wade, as much to his own surprise as anyone else's, grew the organs back.
Much of the staff of Hospice didn't stay surprised for long, because Wade organized a prison break and mass curbstomping party that ended with pretty much everyone on staff dead. And the dead really don't act surprised.
Today, still wanted by the government, he survives as a soldier of fortune. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find him....maybe you can hireThe A-Team Deadpool.
WRITING SAMPLE:
We were making our way through the labyrinth of tunnels below New York City. And let me tell you, they're an armpit. Even if you aren't in the sewers. So, because I didn't care for the scenery I kept myself and my comrades-in-arms amused with an ongoing dialogue about the merits and flaws of our potential employers.
"...I mean, yeah, sure, the X-Men - and doesn't that sound like a tranny support group? - have themselves some fine women..."
There was movement in the darkness. You almost couldn't see it, as figures slipped like ghosts from shadow to shadow. They weren't bad, really.
"...that redhead, for instance - Marvel Girl? Phoenix? Something like that. I'd be all about dancing in her fire, you know what I'm saying.."
They were probably feeling pretty good about being all stealthy. I mean, I was talking a lot.
"...But really, when you get right down to it, if you want hot you want the Brotherhood. Maybe it's just that 'bad girl' vibe they've got going, or maybe it's the way they're all about 'rejecting the repressive culture of Homo sapiens'..."
By now, I figured that we had all of them on us.
"...And it doesn't hurt that the Brotherhood's money is good, too. Magneto pays out, and on time, as long as you don't go and eff it all up..."
"Jesus, Bullseye," someone - Backlash, I think he called himself - muttered. "Doesn't he ever shut up?"
"Not that there's anything wrong with Fisk's money, mind you," I pointed out, not dignifying his question with an answer. "Job's a job, and a check's a check, right? But with the Brotherhood, you get the bonus of fine hardbodies in latex and leather..."
"Beats me, Backlash," muttered a third voice - Bullseye's voice.
"...whereas with Fisk," I said, raising my voice slightly to be heard over the peanut gallery, "you get the 'bonus'" and here I made scare quotes with my fingers, "of a guy that needs Crisco and a shoe horn to put on his size XXXXL pants..."
Bullseye wheeled and grabbed me by a web belt. Bringing his face close, he hissed "You ever hear of stealth, Deadpool?"
I blinked, staring back at him. You know what? At that moment, my professional pride was hurt. Hurt bad. "Of course I have. What do you take me for, an amateur? I learned my trade in..." I let my voice trail away, then came back with a sound of dawning realization. "Ooohhh! I get it! You're telling me you want me to be quiet!"
"That'd be great, yeah," agreed Bullseye, and there was just no trace of humor in his voice. Around me in the gloom, I could just make out the other mercenaries nodding silent agreement.
"Well, I can do that, yeah," I said, not lowering the volume but trying to make my voice soothing. Bullseye's hardcore, after all. No reason to have to throw down on him when I'm not getting paid. "Of course I can do that..."
"Then do it all ready," muttered one of the other guys. Hardcore, I think. Seriously lame name, too. I mean, if you have to tell someone, then you aren't. It's like calling yourself "big Johnson", you know?
"...but you should maybe - and what do I know, I mean Fisk is just paying me as much as he's paying Bullseye for this, and that's more than the rest of you combined, so maybe he knows value for money - maybe the rest of you should be wondering why I'm talking so much?"
"Because you never shut up?" Backlash suggested.
"Fair point," I conceded, "But not relevant here. See, we're down here because the Kingpin - whose money is good, even if he is not a mutant hardbody in skin-tight leather (and let me say now how glad I am that he doesn't go for the skin-tight leather) - is paying us to, how did he put it, 'demonstrate his displeasure with the Hand'. Right?"
"How did you manage that without stopping to breathe?"
"Skills, Hardcore. Some of us have them." I grinned. "But see, your average modern ninja is, well, stupid. He's likely to hear me chattering away, seemingly oblivious to the world, and not realize that he and his million zillion buddies were made twenty minutes ago and are about to start dying in droves when I bust out my nines and go all Chow Yun Fat on their overconfident asses right now."
Everything seemed to go dead quiet for just an instant, and you could almost hear the Hand ninja thinking "well hell...". And then I had my Beretta 93Rs in hand, and I was leaping backwards and sideways with them blazing away. All 60 rounds from the two extended clips were gone before I hit the ground, and it was raining men, halleluiah! Dead ninja from hell to breakfast, baby, and more - live - Hand ninja followed them in, swords out and shuriken flashing around.
"Come on, gentlemen," I laughed, reloading. "Let's earn us a living!"
PLAYER DATA
Name: First. It's a long story, basically involving how I'm known on another site.
Preferred Method of Contact: Private Message. If I get to know you, we can talk about Skype.
Other Character(s): None yet, but I'm looking at applying for Thor and Victor Von Doom as well.
DEADPOOL
Name: Wade Winston Wilson
Alias(es): Merc with a Mouth, Jack, Chiyonosake ("whe Wolf of the Rice Wine"), Rhodes, Corpus, Lopez, Hobgoblin, Thom Cruz, Peter Parker.
REGULAR or TEMP Regular
Age: 35 (as of October 23, 2011)
Height: 6’ 2”
Physical Description: Wade Wilson is just a little over six feet tall, with the lean, muscular build of an acrobat and martial artist. Dressed in his standard street clothes, which tend to be slightly baggy, he could be mistaken for thin. He wears his sandy-brown hair short, and tries to part it on the left. This fails frequently, due to "cowl hair", and ususally ends up just looking swept back (on a good day) or like he hasn't bothered with it (on a bad day). He's also quite likely to be found with a day or two worth of sandy-brown stubble, more out of laziness than a fashion statement, although he does take pains to shave if he's planning on trying to impress somebody ("And by somebody I mean women"). He smiles a lot, and uses a lot of gestures when he talks.
It is not quite fair to say that Wade dresses like a slob. He has reasons for favoring baggy clothing, and most of those reasons revolve around freedom of movement and concealing weapons. But he wears t-shirts (typically band logo t-shirts or t-shirts in solid colors) and jeans ("Blue. What other color is there?") a size or two too big, and a leather biker jacket a size too big, and steel-toed boots that fit just right ("because blisters are a b***h"). He sometimes wears a baseball cap as well.
You can get Wade into a slacks and a nice shirt, and sometimes even a blazer. But it better be a good reason. And ties? That "good eason" better be a beautiful woman or an absurdly large check.
Thanks to a mixture of his costume, his nocturnal habits, and his regenerative abilities, Wade has a pale, "you need to get out in the sun more" complexion. He doesn't tan - his regenerative powers deal with UV tissue damage quickly, so his melanocytes don't register that they need to crank out melanin, so he never gets any darker. He has no calluses for similar reasons.
In costume, Wade wears a red and black bodysuit and full-face cowl, made of goretex ("Wicks sweat away, keeps water out, and shows off these abs!") and reinforced with kevlar on the chest and back, forearms, and knees. ("Because, regeneration or no, getting shot sucks.") Web belts and harnesses support his collection of blades, firearms, and gadgets. You can still make out expressions through his mask, mostly because he exaggerates them dramatically.
Face Claim: Ryan Reynolds
Personality: You know that guy in school? The class clown? The guy that's always cracking wise, and getting in trouble with the teachers and the principle, and that doesn't seem to care? Yeah, that's Wade Wilson. And he was like that before Weapon X transformed him into an almost-unkillable wrecking machine. Now he cracks wise and gets in trouble, confident in the fact that he's faster and better and stronger than most of what he'd be getting into trouble with, and that he'll probably survive anything he isn't faster and better and stronger than anyway.
We could probably develop an entire psychological profile here about how the smartassing is a defense mechanism that developed as a result of childhood trauma. We could probably make some argument that his devil-may-care attitude and adrenaline addiction are due to his mother's death at a young age, and how his problems with forming close connections are related to that and to his issues with his abusive father. And it might even be true. He is a whole lot more complex than he lets on.
How so? Well, he actually has a great deal more patience than he lets on, when he feels a need to be patient. He's smarter and more observant than he acts, and has a more developed moral code than he pretends.
But Wade's still the merc with the mouth. And you have to work pretty hard to get past the overly-talkative party boy. And you'll learn that, even with all those hidden depths, he's really does enjoy what he does. So don't feel too bad for him.
Affiliation:Freelance
Identity: Publically known in the right circles. The average Joe on the street probably has no idea who Deadpool is, but the "powers that be" sure do.
Powers or Special Abilities: Deadpool has an accelerated healing factor that was derived from Wolverine during the Weapon X program. The rate of healing is related to how bad the injury is - the more severe the faster is heals. ("Papercuts. God, papercuts. Don't get me started on papercuts.")
The main benefit of this power goes beyond simple healing of any injury both internal and dermal, he can fully re-grow limbs ranging from finger-tips to most of his body. ("Which means, if I'm really hard up for cash, I can sell blood with no problem.")
This power also makes him almost impervious of poisons or toxins for his body heals the damage as it is being caused by the toxin. ("Still hurts! Cyanide sucks!") Due to the healing factor he also has a longer lifespan than normal. Unlike Wolverine's regenerative abilities, Wade's is slightly controlled by his mind. ("I gotta really wanna heal, for it to work really well.")
The healing factor also means his muscular system doesn't produce as much lactic acid, so he is stronger, has greater reflexes, and has greater stamina to the point of exceeding the limits of the human body. ("And I tell you what - a sharp-dressed man? Fuggedaboutit. Every woman's crazy about a man with greater stamina.")
An interesting side-effect of Wade's healing power is that he doesn't scar. In fact, not only does he not scar, but scars and other injuries from the days before he acquired his regenerative powers have faded away. Including all of the plastic surgery he went through in an effort to disguise his identity.
Wade is fully ambidextrous, able to use both hands equally well (and, to a degree, independently). Whether this is a 'power' or just a talent is unclear.
Because his brain is perpetually trying to heal from the blows it has taken over the years, his mind is very difficult for a telepath to understand, (plus it is a kinda terrifying place to be to begin with). ("Hey! I resent that!")
Skills: Wade is an extremely skilled hand to hand combatant and skilled in several forms of unarmed combat techniques. ("I"m the best there is at what I do, baby. Pay no attention to that hairy nutjob with the claws.") He has years of assassination techniques, is a highly trained marksman as well as skilled with bladed weapons. ("Awww. I bet you say that to all the world's finest spec ops trained assassins.") He is fluent in several languages including Japanese, German, Italian and French ("and Pig Latin, and Klingon").
Weapons and Equipment: A wide arrangement of guns and bladed weapons to be used as he sees necessary for doing his job. If he doesn't' have it, he has ways of getting it.
For hand to hand combat, Wade favors his twin katanas ("There can be only one, baby!"). He isn't increadibly choosy, though, having been known to use combat knives, machetes, kitchen knives, and police batons as well. ("And, on one memorable occasion, twin chainsaws!")
His preference for ranged weapons revolves around the concept of interchangable ammunition. He typically carries two Beretta 93R machine pistols and two H&K MP5K-PDW submachine guns. When planning for precision kills, he favors the USMC-issue M40A5. ("Oh, and for whacking a whole room full of creeps? Franchi SPAS-15 combat shotgun! It's pump action and semi-automatic, and it looks wicked cool!")
("You forgot my motorcycle! I've got a 1951 Vincent Black Shadow! How could you forget the bike that takes you home to meet the Sausage Creature?")
Advantages: Wade is almost entirely without fear. Even before he gained his powers, he was willing to do anything at any time, without hesitation. ("Go on. Say it. I was a living Mountain Dew commercial.")
Disadvantages: Wade never shuts up. This does not endear him to a number of people. It also handicaps his ability to be stealthy, and has cost him several lucrative contracts in his time.
Wade has also upset a number of powerful organizations, often by killing individuals those people wanted kept alive. These powerful people typically do not forgive easily.
Occupation: Mercenary ("I prefer 'Conflict Resolution Specialist', thank you.")
Citizenship: Canadian. He might be legally dead, though, and he hasn't really bothered with things like legal passports and such for years.
Place of Birth: Ontario, Canada.
Relatives: Hailey Wilson, mother, deceased. Thomas "Mickey" Wilson, father, deceased ("And good riddance!").
History: There isn't much to say about Wade's childhood. His mother died at a young age of cancer his father was abusive, right until he was shot by one of Wade's friends. After this, he dropped out of high school and lied about his age to get into the military a year early. After a tour of duty - one in which he was what the military describes as a "discipline problem" - he mustered out and went to work as a mercenary - with Blackwater originally, but eventually (for fairly rapid values of "eventually") going freelance.
He's got a code of ethics about these things. He doesn't take contracts on kids, or on people he thinks are "good" people.
His career before Weapon X is difficult to track, mostly because his work was either classified, deniable black ops, or both. It is speculated, mostly because of comments he has made and languages he speaks, that he spent a lot of time in Africa and southeast Asia. This is highly speculative, though.
Shortly after his return to Canada after years in (most likely) Asia, he fell in love with a prostitute, Vanessa Carlysle. He began to dream of a better life, a dream that was shattered when he was diagnosed with cancer. Terrified, he broke off the relationship. After months of treatment, during which he only got worse, he was contacted by representatives of Department K. They dangled the hope of a cure in front of his face, contingent on his willingness to participate in an experimental joint Canadian/American special weapons program: Weapon X.
The "cure" was an attempt to create super-soldiers, using recombinent DNA therapy to engineer the mutant regenerative abilities of a former Weapon X agent (now known as the X-Man 'Wolverine'). The cancer went into remission, kept at bay by his new regenerative powers, and he went to work as a deep black ops agent. This went well for a while, but then he was responsible for a 'friendly-fire' incident that resulted in the death of a fellow Weapon X operative (code-named "Slayback"). This, combined with his strong anti-authoritarian streak, led him to be dismissed from the program.
And by "dismissed", we mean "turned over to Doctor Killebrew at Hospice for testing". And by "testing" we mean "torturing to determine the exact limits of the retroviral-engineered regeneration of subject code-named 'Deadpool'."
Wade considers this to be a low point in his life, although it is where his propensity for endlessly talking and cracking jokes came from. Annoying the hell out of his tormenters gave him something to look forward to while he was regrowing body parts. After six months he was "executed" by having his heart and lungs removed through vivisection. Doctor Killebrew made the mistake of leaving his half-eviscerated corpse in a morgue freezer for the next day. Wade, as much to his own surprise as anyone else's, grew the organs back.
Much of the staff of Hospice didn't stay surprised for long, because Wade organized a prison break and mass curbstomping party that ended with pretty much everyone on staff dead. And the dead really don't act surprised.
Today, still wanted by the government, he survives as a soldier of fortune. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find him....maybe you can hire
WRITING SAMPLE:
We were making our way through the labyrinth of tunnels below New York City. And let me tell you, they're an armpit. Even if you aren't in the sewers. So, because I didn't care for the scenery I kept myself and my comrades-in-arms amused with an ongoing dialogue about the merits and flaws of our potential employers.
"...I mean, yeah, sure, the X-Men - and doesn't that sound like a tranny support group? - have themselves some fine women..."
There was movement in the darkness. You almost couldn't see it, as figures slipped like ghosts from shadow to shadow. They weren't bad, really.
"...that redhead, for instance - Marvel Girl? Phoenix? Something like that. I'd be all about dancing in her fire, you know what I'm saying.."
They were probably feeling pretty good about being all stealthy. I mean, I was talking a lot.
"...But really, when you get right down to it, if you want hot you want the Brotherhood. Maybe it's just that 'bad girl' vibe they've got going, or maybe it's the way they're all about 'rejecting the repressive culture of Homo sapiens'..."
By now, I figured that we had all of them on us.
"...And it doesn't hurt that the Brotherhood's money is good, too. Magneto pays out, and on time, as long as you don't go and eff it all up..."
"Jesus, Bullseye," someone - Backlash, I think he called himself - muttered. "Doesn't he ever shut up?"
"Not that there's anything wrong with Fisk's money, mind you," I pointed out, not dignifying his question with an answer. "Job's a job, and a check's a check, right? But with the Brotherhood, you get the bonus of fine hardbodies in latex and leather..."
"Beats me, Backlash," muttered a third voice - Bullseye's voice.
"...whereas with Fisk," I said, raising my voice slightly to be heard over the peanut gallery, "you get the 'bonus'" and here I made scare quotes with my fingers, "of a guy that needs Crisco and a shoe horn to put on his size XXXXL pants..."
Bullseye wheeled and grabbed me by a web belt. Bringing his face close, he hissed "You ever hear of stealth, Deadpool?"
I blinked, staring back at him. You know what? At that moment, my professional pride was hurt. Hurt bad. "Of course I have. What do you take me for, an amateur? I learned my trade in..." I let my voice trail away, then came back with a sound of dawning realization. "Ooohhh! I get it! You're telling me you want me to be quiet!"
"That'd be great, yeah," agreed Bullseye, and there was just no trace of humor in his voice. Around me in the gloom, I could just make out the other mercenaries nodding silent agreement.
"Well, I can do that, yeah," I said, not lowering the volume but trying to make my voice soothing. Bullseye's hardcore, after all. No reason to have to throw down on him when I'm not getting paid. "Of course I can do that..."
"Then do it all ready," muttered one of the other guys. Hardcore, I think. Seriously lame name, too. I mean, if you have to tell someone, then you aren't. It's like calling yourself "big Johnson", you know?
"...but you should maybe - and what do I know, I mean Fisk is just paying me as much as he's paying Bullseye for this, and that's more than the rest of you combined, so maybe he knows value for money - maybe the rest of you should be wondering why I'm talking so much?"
"Because you never shut up?" Backlash suggested.
"Fair point," I conceded, "But not relevant here. See, we're down here because the Kingpin - whose money is good, even if he is not a mutant hardbody in skin-tight leather (and let me say now how glad I am that he doesn't go for the skin-tight leather) - is paying us to, how did he put it, 'demonstrate his displeasure with the Hand'. Right?"
"How did you manage that without stopping to breathe?"
"Skills, Hardcore. Some of us have them." I grinned. "But see, your average modern ninja is, well, stupid. He's likely to hear me chattering away, seemingly oblivious to the world, and not realize that he and his million zillion buddies were made twenty minutes ago and are about to start dying in droves when I bust out my nines and go all Chow Yun Fat on their overconfident asses right now."
Everything seemed to go dead quiet for just an instant, and you could almost hear the Hand ninja thinking "well hell...". And then I had my Beretta 93Rs in hand, and I was leaping backwards and sideways with them blazing away. All 60 rounds from the two extended clips were gone before I hit the ground, and it was raining men, halleluiah! Dead ninja from hell to breakfast, baby, and more - live - Hand ninja followed them in, swords out and shuriken flashing around.
"Come on, gentlemen," I laughed, reloading. "Let's earn us a living!"
PLAYER DATA
Name: First. It's a long story, basically involving how I'm known on another site.
Preferred Method of Contact: Private Message. If I get to know you, we can talk about Skype.
Other Character(s): None yet, but I'm looking at applying for Thor and Victor Von Doom as well.
