Post by deadpool on Aug 15, 2006 3:30:30 GMT -5
“What IS this place, then?” Deadpool asked.
“It’s an Archive.” The short Hispanic man said.
“What the…” Deadpool took a few steps back, taking a long look at the building. Already dust was gathering on his leather outfit and mask. He hated being this far south… but he’d been in hotter, muggier places before. You know, the womb. “This isn’t the post office?”
“No.” the man repeated, seeming slightly agitated.
“I can’t, you know… send mail or receive it here?” DP asked, scratching his head comically.
The small man sighed heavily, then shouted at the top of his lungs: “YOU CANNOT POST IN THE ARCHIVES!!”
Deadpool cringed. “Jeez! Alright, alright, I get it! Settle down Loremaster, I’ll find another place to renew my Starlog subscription. Good Lord.”
He strolled off towards the jeep, taking a seat in the passenger side. In the driver’s side, a man who could’ve been anywhere between 40 and 60 sat. His white hair was wild, and his face thin, but his eyes and mannerisms were unmistakably sharp. He had an all-pro look about him, and seemed quite at home in the environment, despite his blatant butler/chauffer outfit.
“Alright, Jeeves. Let’s blow this pop-tart.” Deadpool said.
“As you say, sir.” The older man said drearily. As it was, his name was NOT Jeeves, it was William. He had been hired by Deadpool to be his face operator, contracting things that they normally didn’t let you do with a mask on, and of course, being his personal manservant.
Currently William was driving the mercenary around the world, in search of two swords: The Adamantium Katanas DP had stolen from the Silver Samurai years prior. He’d last seen them pinned to the walls after his fight with his true love in Baltimore. The explosion seemed to have dislodged them – and the rest of the building. Since then the swords were gone… but he had a few leads. Odd ones, that led him all over the place, but leads none the less.
He’d searched the area with all his resources, but found nothing… his only chance was to follow the advice of the strange mutant gypsy psychic he’d gone too. The leads seemed promising, and she knew it was down to one of the over a dozen locations across the globe. So here he was, with his new manservant.
“Hmmm… I’m not sure Arbol Pequeño is the place to be. I mean, what the hell does Arbol Pequeño have in it? It’s like, a town, with a giant hill.” Deadpool pointed to the hill, upon which Sabertooth was currently overlooking a small band of mutants. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately?) DP wasn’t looking, just pointing. “That’s it. A big hill. Big deal?”
“Actually, sir – there seems to be-” William began, but was cut off.
“Not now, Jeeves. We’ve got to get goin’. This place is deadsville, man.”
“It’s an Archive.” The short Hispanic man said.
“What the…” Deadpool took a few steps back, taking a long look at the building. Already dust was gathering on his leather outfit and mask. He hated being this far south… but he’d been in hotter, muggier places before. You know, the womb. “This isn’t the post office?”
“No.” the man repeated, seeming slightly agitated.
“I can’t, you know… send mail or receive it here?” DP asked, scratching his head comically.
The small man sighed heavily, then shouted at the top of his lungs: “YOU CANNOT POST IN THE ARCHIVES!!”
Deadpool cringed. “Jeez! Alright, alright, I get it! Settle down Loremaster, I’ll find another place to renew my Starlog subscription. Good Lord.”
He strolled off towards the jeep, taking a seat in the passenger side. In the driver’s side, a man who could’ve been anywhere between 40 and 60 sat. His white hair was wild, and his face thin, but his eyes and mannerisms were unmistakably sharp. He had an all-pro look about him, and seemed quite at home in the environment, despite his blatant butler/chauffer outfit.
“Alright, Jeeves. Let’s blow this pop-tart.” Deadpool said.
“As you say, sir.” The older man said drearily. As it was, his name was NOT Jeeves, it was William. He had been hired by Deadpool to be his face operator, contracting things that they normally didn’t let you do with a mask on, and of course, being his personal manservant.
Currently William was driving the mercenary around the world, in search of two swords: The Adamantium Katanas DP had stolen from the Silver Samurai years prior. He’d last seen them pinned to the walls after his fight with his true love in Baltimore. The explosion seemed to have dislodged them – and the rest of the building. Since then the swords were gone… but he had a few leads. Odd ones, that led him all over the place, but leads none the less.
He’d searched the area with all his resources, but found nothing… his only chance was to follow the advice of the strange mutant gypsy psychic he’d gone too. The leads seemed promising, and she knew it was down to one of the over a dozen locations across the globe. So here he was, with his new manservant.
“Hmmm… I’m not sure Arbol Pequeño is the place to be. I mean, what the hell does Arbol Pequeño have in it? It’s like, a town, with a giant hill.” Deadpool pointed to the hill, upon which Sabertooth was currently overlooking a small band of mutants. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately?) DP wasn’t looking, just pointing. “That’s it. A big hill. Big deal?”
“Actually, sir – there seems to be-” William began, but was cut off.
“Not now, Jeeves. We’ve got to get goin’. This place is deadsville, man.”