003 - You'd See the Voices That Control Me From Inside My Head That Say I Shouldn't Kill You Yet

[mercwamouth]

[Deadpool appears on the plane. What's this he's wearing? Is he in a baseball mascot outfit? Yes. He is. Minus the head of course. How else could you know it was him? And a good chunk of the chest. That was blown apart by some weapon. However, he appears to be in a good mood.]

[Wait, what's going on? What is this place? Weren't we just in a stadium?]

[Oh, this would be the Astral Plane. We pop in here from time to time. It's nice here. A change of scenery is good.]

[Alright, fine, but why now? Wasn't that kind of important?]

[Everything's going as planned so far. Doesn't happen often. We wanna savor it. Probably won't last. Time doesn't pass out there while we're here.]

[Right. Got it. So how long is this going to take?]

[Patience is a virtue my friend]

[*Grumble*]

I fucking rule

[Oh, what, so we're doing Comic Sans now? God, the yellow boxes were lame enough.]

[Huh?]

[Don't worry, it doesn't concern you... I think.]

[ooc: Confused? Read this ooc post]

Comments

[fry-face.livejournal.com]

No, just a communist. No idea why he picked an instrument.

Any way is fine. Doesn't bother me.

[mercwamouth]

In Soviet Russia, instrument pick YOU!

[Yeah, I'm sure she's never heard that kind of joke before...]

[fry-face.livejournal.com]

Can't say I've heard that one before. It's amusing, at least, so I'll let it pass.

[mercwamouth]

[...Well I'll be damned]

I've got a million of 'em.

[fry-face.livejournal.com]

A million, huh?

{She chuckles} Well then, do I get the pleasure of your name, Mr. Million Jokes?

[mercwamouth]

Wade Wilson. Most people call me Deadpool, Balalaika. The so-called "Merc with a mouth".

[I really wish he'd stop advertising that. It's lame and no-one calls him that but himself.]

[Does have a nice ring to it, though.]

[fry-face.livejournal.com]

Deadpool it is. And I assume the "Merc" part means you're a mercenary?

[mercwamouth]

Certainly doesn't stand for Mercury. How about you? Proletariat or bourgeoisie?

[...How does he know what Marxism is, let alone Marxist terminology? He can barely spell his own name!]

[fry-face.livejournal.com]

Neither. I'm in a special class without a fancy name. We'll call it "criminal" for simplicity's sake.

[mercwamouth]

Ah... Lumpenproletariat. My favorite!

[Please no more words with over four syllables... You're scaring me.]

[fry-face.livejournal.com]

So it has a fancy name after all! Shouldn't, really.

{Chuckles} Good thing it's your favorite at least. I keep meeting cops here, it seems like.

[mercwamouth]

Cops and doctors. It's like watching a bunch of kindergartners playing dress-up.

[fry-face.livejournal.com]

Kindergartners are cuter and less annoying, though.

[mercwamouth]

Cuter? Yes. Less annoying? You clearly haven't hung out with me enough yet.

[fry-face.livejournal.com]

You're tolerable. I appreciate a sense of humor.

[mercwamouth]

[Even if it sucks apparently.]

Well thanks. Oh, and I don't mean to pry, but I gotta know, where'd that mark on your face come from?

[fry-face.livejournal.com]

War. {Grins} Got 'em in the Soviet war in Afghanistan since I was a VDV paratrooper. My unit was the best there ever was, but it's a damn shame the country we fought so hard for doesn't exist.

[mercwamouth]

Wonder why it is that scars never have happy memories. Like "I got this scar defeating a polar bear", or "This is a hickey my husband gave me on our 30th anniversary". It's always tragedy.

[fry-face.livejournal.com]

I guess. But I'm proud of my scars. They're the only medals I have that are worth shit.

[mercwamouth]

They're certainly impressive.

[fry-face.livejournal.com]

It at least helps people take me more seriously. My job is unfortunately quite male-dominated.

[mercwamouth]

Probably gives you a bit of an advantage though. Being a woman. No one expects to get bumped off by a chick.

[fry-face.livejournal.com]

That's definitely one of them. They think they can just insult me like they do any other broad on the street, but they're always surprised when I teach them how to smoke a cigarette out of their forehead.