|
|
Post by deadpool on Oct 19, 2006 22:59:44 GMT -5
The house was well built and quaint, but sized enough to fit several people. It looked like it had been a fixer-upper at one point, and had already gone through the various stages of fixer-uppery. Still...
“Doesn't much look like a Rogue's Place, does it?” Deadpool said, leaning back to look around. “I mean... you'd think it'd be dingier, for one. Maybe with some gun-turrets or a moat or something.”
“Well, I suppose if you really had a place for Rogues, they'd disguise it as... well... this.” William retorted.
“Yeah, I guess so – but they probably wouldn't call it Rogue's Place then, would they?”
William could only shrug, and the two walked up the small stone plotted path to the door. Deadpool did a quick scan of the place, getting a funny feeling. He kept his mental finger on the bizarre random power generator in his mind. You never knew what could go wrong... and now he never knew what he'd do if it did. He'd just activate the ability and see what happened. Somehow it suited him just fine.
Shrugging once last time, he rapped on the door and pressed a masked face against the glass part of it, looking inside.
“Knock-knock! Girl Scouts! We're here to sell weapons-grade plutonium!” He shouted through the door. The old WG Plutonium always got a rogue's attention.
|
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Oct 20, 2006 9:15:50 GMT -5
Another knock on the door and Marie could only assume that it was yet another young kid restored coming for a place to stay. Hopefully it was a girl, because with Adrien's recent leave they actually had a spare bed. However, the voice that followed the knock sounded distinctly male, and was speaking nonesense about plutonium, and as she came around the corner to the hallway, Marie saw a masked face in the windowpane.
Opening the door rather cautiously, she gave it just enough room to poke her head out. "Hello, what can I help you with?" She seriously resisted the southern hospitality urge to ask if he would like to come in for sweet tea.
|
|
|
|
Post by deadpool on Oct 20, 2006 21:48:39 GMT -5
The pretty girl who poked her head out seemed like no thief Deadpool had met before... and he'd met a lot of thieves! Though he particularly liked that little bleach job in the front, it said 'Not quite ready to be integrated back into society after kicking my ebay addiction, but I'm still quite doable'. And God he could relate to that.
“Hey there!” he said cheerfully. “I hear this is a place for mutants who aren't mutants anymore? Well, a week ago I got screwed over by Magneto, and now I'm a human that's not a human anymore.... So... where are the rogues? And come to think of it, why would all ex-mutants pick up such a shady profession after they lost themselves to the cure?”
He cocked his leather clad head to the side, and waited for her to respond.
|
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Oct 21, 2006 8:28:30 GMT -5
"Screwed over by Magneto?" Join the club, buddy. "He's still alive?"
This was certainly news to Marie; the last she'd heard he'd been stabbed with the cure (thank god he'd never shown up at her front door) and gone to sulk about being homo sapien for the rest of his life. But now he had turned this man into a mutant? She'd have to give Ororo a call about that as soon as possible.
"Um, I'm techinically the Rogue," she replied, her eyebrows pressed together in confusion. "It's not a place for Rogue's. That was my mutant name, and this is my place. Thus, the Rogue's Place." This man was weird, but she supposed he wasn't really that much weirder than Simon or Dani, or a half-dozen other kids who lived in the Place. Southern Hospitality finally won over.
"Would you like to come in for some sweet tea? Maybe I can help you with your newfound mutantdom."
|
|
|
|
Post by deadpool on Oct 22, 2006 2:22:47 GMT -5
“Oh... Ohhhhhhh!” Deadpool said. “I getcha. It's a name thing, right right. I'd ask for the history of the name, but who's got the time anymore? So anyway, Mags is alive alright. Not sure if he has his powers back or anything, but he's definitely kickin'. Still has that penchant for purple, too, whatever that's about.”
Upon her offer for sweet tea, his eyes showed his smile.
“You kidding? You guys make the most awesome sweet tea ever! Sometimes you put so much sugar in it you can spoon it out and use it as bio-diesel, and if that isn't delicious, I'm Sandra Bullock. Which I'm not, by the way, I know it's hard to tell with the voice and all.”
He walked in at her gesture, and left William outside. Looking around, he poked his head into a side room in the style more of an eccentric with no knowledge of etiquette than with someone trying to be rude.
“So you think you can help with the new found mutantdom? That wasn't even why I'm here, but that'd be awesome too!”
|
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Oct 22, 2006 9:35:13 GMT -5
Well, it was good to know he wasn't Sandra Bullock, not that it would have been her first guess. And certainly a friendly fellow, if a little off-beat; but hell, who wasn't a little off-beat when they first found their powers? She could imagine that finding you had super powers would give a person a sudden penchant for silly costumes and strange behaviour... even though it hadn't made her all too fond of the leather X-suits.
"Well, I'm not sure that I can really teach you how to use it or anything, but I lived through that sudden change too, and I'm good at helping people cope with sudden changes." She smiled and handed over the glass of sweet tea she had been pouring as she spoke. "But why are you here then? It's quite obvious that you already heard of The Place."
|
|
|
|
Post by deadpool on Oct 22, 2006 13:16:47 GMT -5
Deadpool turned and looked at her, a surprised and confused look registered even through the mask. This person had just said probably the nicest, most sweet thing he'd ever heard to him. She was offering to help him, clear of attachments, for no reason other than she thought she could. In his world of money-for-everything, mostly heartless, cold business it had been so long since he'd heard such simple, plain, and every-day sounding compassion that he was actually stricken speechless for moments.
Suddenly he wanted very much that nothing ill ever befall this woman, and he made a special note to make sure that nothing ever did. No, as far as he was concerned, Rogue could call him anywhere, any time, and he'd make sure to bring the thunder on anyone who ever sought to seek harm on her.
“I... uhh... are you serious? Like, you'd try to help me? For free?” He knew in his heart that she would, but still, his mind refused to believe it.
He'd answer her other question as soon as he got the answer to his.
|
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Oct 22, 2006 17:51:28 GMT -5
Marie laughed softly as she poured a glass of sweet tea for herself. "Of course I'm serious, sug. I'll do whatever I can to help you out. For free."
She smiled and raised her glass in a toast, took a sip, and placed it back on the counter. "I'm Marie by the way, formerly known as Rogue. And you are?"
She was prepared for a super hero nickname - she was quite sure by this point that nothing could phase her (except maybe Kitty, ha ha). Especially nothing from a man in a full leather bodysuit - how could he possibly be comfortable in that? But ah well, to each their own.
|
|
|
|
Post by deadpool on Oct 22, 2006 20:46:40 GMT -5
Deadpool grinned, though it only showed in his eyes, and held up the glass of tea with her toast.
"Of course I'm serious, sug. I'll do whatever I can to help you out. For free."
“Wow… that’s… wow. You, my friend, are a bonafide awesome human being. Don’t meet many of you guys around these days.” He responded, nodding a bit sagely.
"I'm Marie by the way, formerly known as Rogue. And you are?"
“Name’s Deadpool, formerly known as Wade Wilson. I’m a mercenary by trade, you probably wouldn’t know my collected works, though. Usually pretty under the rug. Here’s my card.”
Reaching into his pocket, he drew another card, exactly like the one he gave Moira with the logo on the front and email address on the back.
“You can call on me anytime, and if you’re in trouble, I’ll help you free of charge. I like you, Marie, you’re a good kid. Soooo… if you ever need a high-tech facility infiltrated, an official offed, or a some other sort of industrial-political sabotage – you know, whatever – give me an email, and I’ll get right down here. Or, you know, if someone is buggin’ ya – I’ll take care of it.” His eyes were squinted with a smile.
“Oh, yeah, so anyway – I’m here because I’m missing something. See, I was involved in that whole Baltimore deal? I got in this really awesome kung fu fight with Mystique, and as the building blew up around me, I lost some very precious katana – Japanese swords. No clue what happened to em’, but this psychic lady sent me on this wacky quest to recover them. This was one of the spots for me to look in.”
|
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Oct 23, 2006 17:37:14 GMT -5
Marie couldn't help but smile brightly at his initial compliment, and listened politely as he explained his peculiar line of work. She tucked the card into her back pocket, not really expecting to ever need it, but knowing full well that the moment she lost it she probably would. Things always worked out like that.
Or, you know, if someone is buggin’ ya – I’ll take care of it.
"I will keep that in mind, thank you," she said with a hint of laughter. She was pretty sure she could take care of herself - afterall, she had been taught self-defense by one of the best fighters she could imagine - but it was always nice to know you had someone on your side.
As he explained what he was actually doing at the Place, she listened carefully. Swords? That travelled from Baltimore to Caldecott County, Miss? Right. "I don't think anyone here has your swords, but we can certainly ask around if you like."
|
|
|
|
Post by deadpool on Oct 23, 2006 22:35:28 GMT -5
She was really, really nice. No matter how bizarre his story sounded. It was… well, refreshing. “Oh awesome. Cool, asking around would be very cool indeed. Don’t ask me why Miss Cleo sent me all over the place looking for these things, but she did – gave me a list of places to check, narrowed it down. Rogue’s Place, Coldecott County, Mississippi, was one of them.”
He shrugged, a gesture that read ‘your guess is as good as mine’, and held up his glass that was still full.
“Hey, would you happen to have a straw at all?”
He thought that kickin’ back in Rogue’s Place would be a neat idea, for a change. Maybe stay up the night if he could, as it’d beat a strange hotel – and he’d be surrounded by people that could at least partially relate to him… AND he’d have Rogue there. She was a bona fide cutie!
|
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Oct 24, 2006 5:06:56 GMT -5
"Oh, yes, sorry," Marie turned around and opened and drawer behind her, digging around in all the junk that had accumulated until she found the little package of bendy-straws that her mother had always kept there for her as a child. They were obnoxious colors - bright pink and yellow and orange - but they would do the job. She held one of each color out for him to choose from.
"Did Miss Cleo send you to Magneto as well?" Marie was more than interested to know what was going on with that man. In fact, if there was one person she'd ever ask anyone to harm for her, it'd be him. And if he were turning what she could only assume were otherwise normal people into mutants, then he had the power to turn himself back into a mutant too. In fact, she'd bet he was using a version of the machine that had nearly killed her. She'd be very careful as to where she put Deadpool's card.
|
|
|
|
Post by deadpool on Oct 24, 2006 8:28:16 GMT -5
Deadpool took the bendy-straw with a nod of thanks, and tucked the drinking end through a small slit in the center-seam of his mask, not really visible normally. He began to drink healthily, and then stopped with a refreshed “ahhh… bring on the diabetes!”
He stood for a second admiring the ridiculously sugary concoction and nearly forgot her question.
“Huh? Oh, yes, Mags was definitely on the list. Though I didn’t know it was really Mags, just a place. Bastard experimented on me when alls I was doing was paying a visit. No manners. I mean, if you can’t expect a little hospitality from international mutant terrorists, who CAN you expect it from?”
He thought he heard noises from upstairs, and cocked his head a bit. He really hoped his search could end here, peacefully and quietly in this wonderful little home.
But he knew better.
|
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Oct 26, 2006 19:15:57 GMT -5
I mean, if you can’t expect a little hospitality from international mutant terrorists, who CAN you expect it from?
Marie laughed at the question, despite the fact that talk of Magneto made her slightly uncomfortable. "He certainly doesn't have any manners, the bastard. Although if his machine works now... that can't be good."
She studied the man in the mask for a moment, despite the fact that it wouldn't give her any clues. "What kind of power did he give you, anyways?" Perhaps it would be something helpful in destroying that man and his deadly machine once and for all. And that could only be a good thing.
|
|
|
|
Post by deadpool on Oct 27, 2006 7:01:29 GMT -5
"Uhh... yeah, about that." He said nervously, unsure how to even describe the power he was given. "Basically it's random. I mean completely so. My manservant has the ability to read power levels, and he says mine is constantly changing. Whenever I try to ... use... my powers, it does something different each time. I did use it to escape Magneto though, accidentally turning the wall of my cell into sponge."
He drained the rest of his tea through the little straw, and made that obnoxious gurgling noise you get at the bottom of the glass. His eyes squeezed shut as he hit the sugary goodness there.
He loosed a refreshing 'ahhhh' just before a glorious scent hit his nose. Somebody was a' cookin'! This of course created a Chewbacca type rumbling from his tummy. He hadn't eaten today, and whatever whoever was cooking was now the aroma of the heavens.
"Mmm....." He said, following his nose, and actually seeming to float waifly over to the door to the kitchen. "Heya, Marie... would you mind... I... Kitchen... foodstuffs?" he managed.
Then he poked his head through the door, and looked inside.
(Continued in 'Morning has Broken')
|
|
