Mercy
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Post by Mercy on Aug 27, 2006 14:02:25 GMT -5
The room was dark, and only the sound of breathing filled it. It was not the slow, calm breathing of people sleeping, as one would expect so late at night, but the frantic, heavy breathing of two locked in a passionate embrace.
A man in his mid-thirties lay on the bed, with a young woman in nothing more than scanty lingerie straddling his lap. As Mercy looked down at the man, she was grateful that they had left the lights off. As long as she didn't look too closely, she couldn't see his face clearly. She could pretend that he was someone else, someone who care about her and loved her. She didn't have a face to give that man in her mind, but she focused on the thought of it. It was the only thing that got her through the nights.
She leaned forward, and his lips met hers in a sloppy, drunken kiss on his part. In the middle of the kiss, with no way for him to speak, a voice sounded from somewhere very close to Mercy's ear.
"Mutant one-eight-two."
Mercy broke the embrace with a start, pushing herself up and peering at the man beneath her. "What?"
He looked at her, confused and perturbed at the sudden stop. "Huh?"
Wearing a troubled look that he would not be able to see, Mercy let herself down onto him again. "Never mind."
But the voice came again, a man's voice, this time commanding and harsh.
"Mutant one-eight-two!"
The man underneath Mercy went rigid and began to shake. He shoved at her, his eyes on the ceiling, and caught one of her shoulders, sending her careening to the side. She cried out in surprise and concern as she landed at the edge of the bed, her continuing motion making her fall from the bed.
"What the hell...?" she murmured as she scrambled into a sitting position, wide eyes turning on the man to find the reason for his sudden shaking. Her annoyance drained away as she saw him, convulsing so violently that the bed shook. Her first thought was that he was having a seizure.
Then she saw her reflection in the mirror across the room. Only it wasn't her; there was no way she could be reflected from that angle. This sickly-looking version of her was standing in the bathroom door--Mercy could see it's shoulder in the doorway. It was staring right at her in the mirror. Again, Mercy heard the voice.
"Mutant one-eight-two, deliver touch now."
Then, for the first time she could remember, memories flashed in front of her eyes. They played like video clips from a damaged tape, where the pictures kept skipping and splicing together.
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Mercy
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Deadpool's Intern
Posts: 99
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Post by Mercy on Aug 27, 2006 14:11:11 GMT -5
She was standing in a room of cement and machines. Many people stood expectantly, waiting. She knew instinctively that they were not her friends; they didn't like her.
She was an experiment to them, nothing more.
Cut to--only moments later. A twin of herself stood before her. Immediately, the men closed in on her look-alike. Her clone. They grabbed her arms and around her waist. One wrenched her head to bow and clawed her hair from her neck. She fought them fiercely, howling, but she was no match. Mercy could feel her anguish, her utter fear--and her anger with Mercy for handing her over to the evil men. They took a syringe and poured drops of something on her neck. She stilled.
The scene changed, now a different room of cement and metal. Mercy--no, not Mercy--Mercy was watching. Her clone was on an operating table.
And then, the operation was done. The room was empty, except for Mercy and Mercy's Touch, who was still laid out on the table. And as Mercy axamined the bandaged stump where the girl's hand had once been, she felt no remorse.
"Mutant one-eight-two."
The memories cleared, and she was once again in the hotel room. SHe had crawled backwards, toppling a chair and shoving the table into the wall. The man had moved as well, and was now cowering against the headboard, staring across the room as he sobbed and cried out, his hands clawing frantically at his own skin.
And at the foot of the bed stood another apparition. This one was Mercy's height and build, and had Mercy's hair, but was so hideously disfigured that it otherwise wasn't recognizable as Mercy.
It had only eyes, the rest of it's face covered with sickjening, jagged scars. It was a nightmare, and caused Mercy to cry out with fear, but it seemed to affect the man even more. But no--he wasn't looking at the awful, twisted version of her. He was look above it, near the ceiling--
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Mercy
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Deadpool's Intern
Posts: 99
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Post by Mercy on Aug 27, 2006 14:16:49 GMT -5
The screen was small, and showed everything in shades of green and black. It showed a small room, a cell, which held two people. One stood with it's back to the camera, with long dark hair down her back. The other cowered against the wall in stark contrast to the unmoving girl standing over them.
The huddled person--a mutant experiment, like her--looked up suddenly, staring not at the other in the room, but at the side wall. Already crying eyes bugged, and the mutant moved away from the invisible threat. When he hit the corner, he began to bang and claw at the wall, sobbing in terror.
In the opposite corner of the room, another body appeared. This one's face could be seen on the camera, and Mercy was dully saddened deep down to see the awful scarring of the new apparition's face. It had only a nose.
The vistim pounded on the wall one last time before doubling over and vomiting.
Slowly, clone after clone appeared in the small room on the camera, and as Mercy watched, she felt the haze over her mind lifting gradually. She kept silent, kept her eyes on the screen, even though with every second and every scream, she wanted to look away, to run away, to break the screen and stop the images.
But when the tortured victim began to ram their own head into the wall, in an insane attempt to escape or to die and end the visions, Mercy screamed.
She screamed a harsh, long scream, and backed away from the screen. She screamed not only from the sight she beheld, but because in that moment when she'd gained control of her own mind, she had realized that she no longer controlled her powers. The clones weren't doing this because Mercy, under the influence of a mind-controlling drug, was telling them to. They were doing it on their own. And she couldn't stop them.
She didn't make it three steps before men in military uniforms grabbed her. They wrenched her head down, and pulled her hair aside.
And as the screams of the victim on the screen and the victim before him blended together in the air, William Stryker smiled.
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Mercy
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Deadpool's Intern
Posts: 99
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Post by Mercy on Aug 27, 2006 15:10:32 GMT -5
By the time the memories faded from her eyes this time, she knew instinctively what she would see when the hotel room came back into focus. All five clones stood, scattered about the room, all facing the poor man on the bed.
She knew she could not stop the visions in the man's head. Having remembered losing control of them long ago, the knowledge was not new. She had long ago accepted the fact that her powers now controlled her. She had merely forgotten, along with the rest of her life.
Confusion and shock ruled her mind, as she temporarily left the man to his mental torture. She searched for more memories, cried out like a starving child tempted by food--even food so stale and sour as what she'd been given--she had to know the rest of her memories. Something happy, something good. But nothing came.
She had no idea that her powers were not working as they should. They were unstable, and as they tapped into the fears of those in other hotel rooms, and on the streets around the hotel, they began to project visions which everyone in sight would see.
A portion of the hotel room, centralized in the room Mercy and her Senses were in, was on fire. So it would appear to everyone in sight. Flames licked at the building, and engulfed the rooms behind the windows.
People instantly began to stop and take notice, yelling and pulling out phones or staring with wide eyes.
In an instant, the fire was gone, leaving no trace behind. Instead, a young man hung from a decorative stone carving that hung out from the side of the building, a noose around his neck and his eyes lifeless. On the street below, a woman began to scream as her greatest fear hung two stories above her--her son, dead.
The body of the hanging person changed to be another in the crowd's wife, another's father, then disappeared alltogether. The people were panicked, and bewildered. Those reporting the fire quickly changed their reports--No, the fire was gone, but someone had hung themselves--A man--No, a woman...
Chaos ensued as people saw apparitions of tortured loved ones and felt terrible things being done to their bodies--they felt and saw limbs being torn off, skin being flayed, they felt themselves drown, or found themselves in a tiny, pitch-black room with the walls slowly but surely closing in.
Inside her hotel room, Mercy, who couldn't control her powers, at least gained control of her limbs. She stood and rocketed toward the lightswitch, some half-thinking part of her brain supposing that if she turned the lights on, that they would go away. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered what it was like to be nestled into a warm bed, snuggling with someone she couldn't picture but loved very much. 'If you ever get scared, turn on the lights and all the monsters and bad guys will go away.' Her brother?
But she couldn't give it a thought now. She reached the lightswitch and turned on the lights, not seeing that the man had chosen that very moment to try to retaliate against whatever evil thing was attacking him. He grabbed the lamp from the bedside table, and with it attempted to beat some unseen foe in front of him. The lampshade was knocked off as he hit the bed repeatedly. As Mercy turned around, he suddenly twisted around, facing the wall directly in front of him, and hurled the lamp at it.
It hit the wall after travelling only a foot, the bulb shaterring and exposing the lit wires. From there it dropped onto the bed. The man forgot it, but Mercy didn't. She couldn't; it took only moments for a small flame to appear on the bed's blanket.
Mercy's brain was being over-loaded, with so much to think about and no idea what to do about any of it. She rocketed forward, searching for something to stamp out the flame with before it grew, but felt hands pulling her back. She screamed out of frustration as she struggled to free herself from the grasp of the three Senses holding her back, no match for what was exactly her level of strength multiplied by three. No longer able to form words in her utter terror, she screamed again and again, only stopping to draw breath, as the man on the bed caught fire and began to burn.
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Post by deadpool on Aug 29, 2006 21:10:18 GMT -5
(( continued from: DP Road Trip pt 7: The Big Apple ))
Deadpool sprinted up the stairs as quickly as humanly possible – well, probably more so than an ordinary human would consider 'possible'. He rarely winded himself, thanks to the regenerative properties of his body, and his enhanced physicality. He made it to the floor he was looking for, and had to rush past a bunch of people to get there... it seemed everyone was bailing out.
“Oh come on! Live a little will ya!” He shouted at the fleeing pedestrians, and entered through the stairwell door.
Fortunately, this took him out directly into the hallway of the incident. Turning, he saw three girls – obviously triplets, holding a fourth girl. Though... the fourth looked just like the trips. Maybe that made them a quartet? What would happen if they were in a barbershop one day... hmm....
The smoke coming from the door broke his curiosity, though. He walked forward, tossing off his stupid baseball cap and now only in his full leather outfit w/ mask (tm). He approached the four who were obviously locked in some sort of violent struggle casually.
“Heya ladies... You cats know where the potty is? Cuz man I've been holdin' a piss all day, and you know how it is when you get the Big Gulp's. 64 ounces o' straight through you!”
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Mercy
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Posts: 99
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Post by Mercy on Aug 29, 2006 21:23:36 GMT -5
Mercy's Senses turned to Deadpool, all at once stopping their struggling with Mercy. Even those who had no ears had heard him, and those with no eyes fixed scarred blanks on him. As realization dawned on them, fear etched in those features they did possess, and one by one they disappeared, seeming to fade as they raced back towards Mercy's form.
Mercy herself had continued to struggle against the other four, and had pitched forward onto the floor when they had stopped fighting back. She could feel them join with her again, but she still focused on the fire consuming the man's clothes, not even fully registering that there was someone else in the room. She grabbed a pillow and started to beat the flames, making a striking picture of an innocent damsel in red-lace-lingerie-distress beating a man with a pillow.
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Post by deadpool on Aug 29, 2006 22:51:38 GMT -5
Deadpool stared at the girl for a minute, scratching his head as she went over and started to try and beat the man out with a pillow.
“Not that many people into the 'Illusionist-sets-you-on-fire-and-beats-on-you-with-a-pillow' kink anymore, and that just plain upsets me. From here, it looks pretty sexy.” He observed her for a fractioned moment longer, then decided maybe she was genuinely trying to put him out.
“Oh... oops. Hang on a minute.” With a single stride he leapt over the bed smoothly and silently, coming down on the cord to the lamp, knocking it out of the wall. Then he held up his hand and flicked his zippo open, setting flame to the emergency sprinklers. They sprang to life, soaking the room in a shower.
“Gah... probably should've water proofed this suit before this. Now it's gonna get all shrinky...”
The water had put the man out, but the girl looked completely confused. Deadpool looked around the room in a hurry, and found a spare blanket. He went to cover her around the shoulders with it.
“Yeah, now it's time to say goodbye, Alice. We need to book it big time, before someone shows up wondering why illusory fire – and I guess, real fire – was all over the place. Soooo... how about we blow this joint? Smells like burnt asshole anyway.”
He began to nudge her toward the door.
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Mercy
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Posts: 99
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Post by Mercy on Aug 30, 2006 17:53:32 GMT -5
His initial humor was incomprehensible to Mercy, who heard him speaking but didn't focus on what he was saying. It wasn't until the sprinklers turned on and put out the flames that she began to come back to Earth. As the cold water soaked her skin and hair, she looked from the unconscious man on the bed, to Deadpool, then searched the room for the other five who had been there, as though expecting them to reappear.
When Deadpool wrapped a blanket around her, taking it's edges and hugging it around herself. She looked at him, eyes wide and fearful, but out of tears. She let him usher her out of the room without protest, her shoulders hunched and her body trembling. Once in the hallway, she stopped, looking left and right unsuredly. Clearly, she was too disoriented to guide herself out.
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Post by deadpool on Aug 30, 2006 18:58:51 GMT -5
Deadpool put a hand on her back, and ushered her to far stairwell, away from the one he came from. He found it near the back elevators, and went with her through it. He hurried her down the stairs. "Okay, so I have no idea why I'm saving you like this… or even that I AM saving you. All's I know is you were being attacked by your winterfresh-twins, only I suppose they were more of your illusions. Hmmm... I suppose it's possible that you're not the illusionist though, could've been Crispy McSleezeball back there, but I seriously doubt it. I mean, couldn't he just make his own illusory prostitute?”
He looked down at the girl, who was obviously in a lot of shock. That was curious... maybe she'd just gained her powers, and they've gone out of control. I mean, why would you need to be a prostitute if you had magical illusion powers?
Better yet... why the hell did he recognize this girl? She looked uncannily familiar... someone he must've known... but from where?
He led her down the stairs, hiding once to avoid a rush of hotel workers heading up them.
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Mercy
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Deadpool's Intern
Posts: 99
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Post by Mercy on Aug 30, 2006 19:16:09 GMT -5
Mercy was constantly looking around, expecting to see her Senses appearing again, to torment the man who was trying to help her. She stayed closed to Deadpool, right at his side or just ahead of him. Though she still couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that she was a mutant (let alone any of the other, darker things she had found out about herself), she felt that he was one. Why else would he be wearing the red-and-black suit?
"You're a mutant, aren't you?" She sounded as if she hoped to God that he was; another mutant would be much more accepting of her than most humans. "I--I just...I didn't know I was one. But, in there, these...things appeared, and they showed him something awful. And I saw things, things that happened to me. I never knew anything about my life, but...I wish I'd never found out..." She ended shakily, as if she wished that voicing that wish would make it come true.
Thinking back, she realized that her Senses had disappeared when they'd seen Deadpool. For that reason, she wanted to stay by him. Maybe it would keep them away.
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Post by deadpool on Aug 30, 2006 19:49:39 GMT -5
Oh crap. She SOUNDED familiar. He thought that maybe the girl he was thinking of was either much younger, or a little older... maybe both? Maybe he knew this chick's mother? Curiouser and curiouser.
“Hate to break it to ya, sweet stuff, but I'm no mutant. I got powers, I can heal myself of everything but the pain of reality television, but not because I was born with em' ya see.” He said as they hit the floor level, and he rushed her out through a back exit. A bellhop was staring at him, but he glared at the poor kid and sent him packin'. “The regeneration was a gift of Uncle Sam actually, came at the low low cost of my God-givin' good looks... but that's ancient history.”
He worked his way out to the street, looking both ways to try and avoid un-needed police presence.
“As for you? Yeah, you're a mutant, I'm pretty sure of it. Those other... things... I'm fairly certain they're some kind of projection from you. Maybe they represent your emotions or something. Can't really say though... I've seen mutant powers of all scales, from great telepaths to people who can change the color of your clothing. Even knew this one chick who could do this thing with her... well, probably should save that for later. Are you sure the things you've seen about your past weren't just more illusions?”
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Mercy
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Deadpool's Intern
Posts: 99
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Post by Mercy on Aug 30, 2006 20:36:03 GMT -5
Mercy began to feel self-conscious of the fact that she was out in public wearing little more than a blanket. She held it tightly around herself and walked quickly, anxious to get away from everyone's eyes, though no one was looking at her. They were all focused on the now inconspicuous side of the hotel, as sirens began to sound in the distance.
"Are you sure the things you've seen about your past weren't just more illusions?”
Mercy stared at the ground moving under her as she walked. "I was an experiment," she said softly. Looking up at his masked face, she asked anxiously, "Do they do that? Do people experiment on mutants?"
"I was an experiment, I know it. Those...clones, whatever they are--it's not their fault they're so terrible. You should have seen what they did to them. They cut their faces up, dug out their eyes..." Mercy shuddered visibly, and not only from the wind on her wet skin.
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Post by deadpool on Aug 30, 2006 23:12:25 GMT -5
William pulled the car up to the curb, an old syle limo – no the stretch ones, but the regal sort. The man got out, and nodded to Deadpool and then did a slight bow to Mercy. He appeared to be a thin butler with wild locks of grey hair. He opened the back door and gestured for her to get in.
Deadpool was less courteous, and simply half-pushed her in. Not roughly or anything, just not very gentlemanly. As he stood to go around, William shut the door and addressed him.
“That's the Illusionist, I see.” He said, using his own mutant power to identify her.
“Yeah, looks like.” DP said, going around to the other side. “Looks like she just got the glowing gift of brand new powers... or maybe memories. Says she's an experiment. Seems awful familiar like.”
He got into the passenger side, next to the driver, and turned to face her.
“I was an experiment too...” Maybe that explains why the hell I'm riskin' my neck helping you. “So the clones are part of you, and not just illusions? What all can you remember about your past – I've got this funny feeling I know you from somewhere.” He snapped his fingers in recognition. “Do you model clothes?”
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Mercy
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Deadpool's Intern
Posts: 99
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Post by Mercy on Aug 31, 2006 17:55:37 GMT -5
As Mercy was helped not-too-gently into the back of the car, the blanket slid from her shoulders. She lifted up from the seat and pulled it out from under her, quickly covering herself with it so that her scanty attire only showed for moments. She eyed Deadpool and William warily, logical thoughts beginning to filter through her shock and fear.
She has hesitant about going with them, and yet she didn't protest or open the door and get out of the car. True, they could have been lying about being mutants--though it seemed like a lot of pain to go through to don that latex suit just to play pretend. But Mercy had never met someone who thought that they knew her, and even if he was lying, or even if he was mistaken, she wanted to find out. Besides, she couldn't very well take the city bus back to the projects in nothing but a blanket and her cheap Victoria's Secret knock-offs.
'Do I model clothes? Please,' she thought to herself, before saying aloud, "I doubt it," in a tone that may as well have said 'Let's be reasonable here.' She sobered again, though, as she thought about what she'd seen. Remembered.
"There were all these...concrete rooms. Dim lights. It looked...grim. And there were scientists, and soldiers," she said quietly, staring at the back of Deadpool's seat and kicking it with the toe of her heels lightly over and over again. "And...I used to be able to control those things...My Senses. Mercy's Senses," --she looked up, to the back of Deadpools head, and her eyes flicked between the two men in front of her as she added, "My name is Mercy."
"...I think. I don't really know anything about my life before like a year and a half ago."
Slightly embarrassed by the way she'd spilled everything just because he'd asked, Mercy turned the attention on Deadpool. "You think you knew me?"
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Post by deadpool on Sept 1, 2006 2:18:40 GMT -5
William had already started driving, and Deadpool listened to her story. When she finally paused, asking if he knew her…
“Yeah, I’m still pretty sure I know ya – and not just from modeling ads. Herm… Concrete walls… dim lights… looked grim… Dick Chaney’s Id? Seriously, that sounds like every secret government lab where they do experiments on mutants. Coulda been anyone from the CIA, the NSA, Trask, Stryker, Pepsi cola, you name it – someone’s experimenting with mutants. The way of the world, I’m afraid.”
He turned back further, to get a good look at her.
“So you barely remember your name – but you remember a year and half of your life. How’s that work?”
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Mercy
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Posts: 99
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Post by Mercy on Sept 1, 2006 14:01:13 GMT -5
Mercy stared past the men in the front, looking out the windshield. She spoke heavily. "Because. That was when I lost my memory."
She stirred, crossing her legs and licking dry lips. She made an attempt not to sound so grim. "I don't remember anything that happened before. Until today."
"Why I came to New York, why I'm living in the projects, why I'm..." She trailed off, not wanting to broadcast what she did for a living, though Deadpool probably had gathered from what he'd seen.
"The government experiments on mutants?" She sounded incredulous, her vague faith in the government that was supposed to protect her showing through as naivety.
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Post by deadpool on Sept 2, 2006 3:05:54 GMT -5
“Does the government experiment on mutants? Of course not. Nor do they lie, or take your money and spend it on useless shit, oh, AND they only have your best interests in heart. Wake up and smell the bullshit, baby – where there are fat white guys in power, there are usually people getting exploited… maybe even experimented on. Don’t feel discriminated against, though, I’m sure they experiment on humans too.”
He turned back around to watch the road.
“So we’re going to hit up a DKNY and get you some clothes, then there may be a stop or two we need to make today, but otherwise we need to fly out to Muir Island.”
Once more he turned to face her. If he had any concern for her occupation, it certainly didn’t show. Truth be told, with all the things he’d done in his time, it would be stupid to judge someone on that small of an affair.
“Hope you don’t mind that you’re officially the second person in my entourage. We’re going to have zany adventures and get into all kinds of trouble. Eventually we’ll even have a nice montage sequence to some upbeat music of us doing weird things and shrugging at the consequences. Maybe we'll throw some credits in, at least our names anyway. Oh, and of course, William here. It’ll be great. Oh by the way, my name's Wade Wilson. My weird call-name is Deadpool.”
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Mercy
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Post by Mercy on Sept 2, 2006 11:27:39 GMT -5
Mercy's shock slowly grew and grew as she listened to him. "You want me...to go with you?" she asked slowly, incredulously. She'd expected him to take her home, or probably drop her off at a nuthouse or something. His talk of DKNY, which she'd always wished she could afford, and Muir Island, which she had never heard of, made her pause.
But she didn't even know them. But he might know her.
But the whole situation was crazy. But he had saved her life.
But she couldn't just pick up and leave.
But why couldn't she? After all, what did she have to stay for? And she'd never have to pay the rent she always owed. Wherever Muir Island was, she'd see more of the world than she ever thought she'd see, assuming she'd be in the asshole of New York City for the rest of her life.
Licking her lips, she drew a deep breath. 'DKNY.' "I don't have any money," she said plainly, apologetically. She had no money on her, she had no money period. Either way he interpreted it, he'd be correct.
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Post by deadpool on Sept 3, 2006 2:10:06 GMT -5
If the merc thought this whole idea was bizarre, it definitely didn't show in his mannerisms. To him, everything seemed to be happening the way it should be.
“Oh... right, money. Uhhh...” he exchanged a glance with William. “Probably should tell you what you're getting into. I”m a mercenary. I hire my military services out to people and basically fight, blow stuff up, that kind of thing. I figured I'd take you along for the ride, help you pick up a new trade. Maybe I can help you gain some better control on your power, possibly teach you and your clones Ninjitsu, weapons training, demolitions and such...”
He nodded, eyes squinted being the only indicator of the smile on his face. “That way, you could just pay me back later for the clothes. Not going to start a tab or anything, but just shoot some money my way when you can cover it. Come on, you know you wanna be La femme Nakita and the Fox Force Five.”
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Mercy
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Post by Mercy on Sept 3, 2006 11:30:38 GMT -5
Just when Mercy thought she couldn't be any more surprised, Deadpool told her that he was a mercenary. As she listened to him, she weighed her options again.
But in the end, a part of what he'd said hooked her. 'Maybe I can help you gain some better control on your power.' He offered control, and possibly even understanding of not only her powers, but her life.
"Come on, you know you wanna be La femme Nakita and the Fox Force Five."
This warranted a smile from the young lady in the back of their car--a shaky, teary smile, but a smile nonetheless. "Would that make you Nakita?"
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