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@letme-befrank
OOC
Guess who just found out this has disbanded after finishing a cool story to RP? THIS GUY!!!!
ARGH!!!
Thanks for the opportunity to be a part of this, for however limited a time it was! I'll keep this thing active a little bit for some RP-ing/occasional trolling!
spudmaster5000.tumblr.com <- Personal blog! :)
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Clean up on aisle 7!
āCourse it was high paying.ā Wade laughed. āDo I look cheap to you? But thats coz Iām good at what I do, being chaotic neutral and all that.ā
Was Castle stalling? It seemed like he was, but what for? Did he think Wade would give up all his information if he looked at the merc for long enough? Not likely. If Wade was honest with himself, he didnāt even know all that much about his employer. He had met a representative in a warehouse who had given him fifty grand and then he had been given a hundred and fifty grand when he had completed the job (plus expenses). āHuman life means a lot to you? Is that why you let him go? Whatāre you planning to do to his boss?ā
Frank got a little closer. Wilson wasn't going to pounce all of a sudden unless Frank made the first move, he's interested now. Good. "Human life does mean a lot to me, and though we've all committed our sins, some of us still have a chance to make right. That's why I let that guy go. He was chump change and in over his head. His boss, on the other hand. Well, that's another matter." Castle knew to be honest at this junction. Wade has no value for information unless it's concerning a target, but if Castle was to draw him out a little, he needed to give Wilson something to play with. "I wouldn't grow too attached to whomever you worked for around here, because trust me, they will be running from me before I get to them." Deadpool does put a value on fear, and respects those who can put it into other people. Guess it's like a twisted sort of mirror for him.
Either way, this is going to a long evening. Frank wouldn't have it any other way.
If I accidentally drop our thread it's not because I don't want to play it's because I'm a horrible roleplayer and 100% scatter brained. Never be afraid to message me to remind me it's my turn.
Clean up on aisle 7!
āYeah they tend to make people more scarier than they actually are.ā Wade stood straight, away from the fridge, putting the milk down. āThat guy wouldnāt have known anything about anything. Heās a small timer. Why would anyone tell him anything?ā
He rested his hand on his glock, not drawing it yet. Castle had done his homework it seemed. Not many people knew who he had worked for over the years. Mercs tended to keep that shit quiet for the sake of their other employers. Someone had told Castle something. Heād find out who later. He shrugged. āSo what if I had? You gonna pin me to the floor and draw on me too?ā
Frank start straight at Deadpool. 'As easily risen as I suspected' he thought to himself. Just then, Frank noticed the people in the store running down the street. Convenient. 'No, no, I'm not going to draw on you. Or pin you down. I'm only asking a friendly question, soldier to soldier.' Frank figured he could draw some more information out before this got fun. 'So, this work you did. Was it.... High paying? I sure hope so. human life means a lot to guy like me, y'know' Frank and Wade weren't going to see eye on this, but Frank liked the idea of delving into Wades psyche a little bit. Everywhere has a root. Wilson's was going to be a mess, but Frank wanted to see as much as he could. Knowledge was his ultimate weapon.
All the sequels/remakes/adaptations/rip-offs in movies nowadays, good or bad?
ooc
Ultimately, I think it's bad. I like originality. Spiritual sequels to stuff like the Evil Dead and Back to the Future, stuff that STARTS a franchise, not continues one. Some adaptations are great, and I can't argue against Avengers and Dark Knight being great projects, but stuff like Amazing Spider-Man, Battleship and Total Recall were just needless, for various reasons.
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Clean up on aisle 7!
āYeah but thatās usually in threesomes or buying a gimp suit or some shit. Not carving pictures into a dudeās chest who was so not into it,ā Wade shook his head, sighing dramatically. āDonāt you know the rules for S&M?ā
Should he kill him? It would be fun to try. Wade rarely did freebies, but if there was anyone who could give him a challenge, it was the brick shithouse standing in front of him. His hand twitched toward his gun again, heād rather go for his sword, but heād be faster with his gun. Just so he could draw first blood, after that, it didnāt matter, did it?Ā
He was surprised when the man Frank had attacked popped back into his head. It was obvious (because it was the Punisher) that the man had done something to deserve the attack, but what? āWhat did the guy do? Or is that Top Secret Punisher business?ā
Frank cracked a little grin. The Merc with a Mouth was the key to an interesting play, Frank thought to himself. "It's not what the guy did, it's who he does it for that I'm interested in. Information. Leaving a scar makes sure I leave a... Lasting impression. You know all about the lasting impression they have, I'm sure" Frank noticed the quick twitch for his gun Deadpool made. Frank had to be smart about this, otherwise, he might not see out the night. Wade has definitely worked for the guy Frank is looking for, and while Wilson would never give away information, the idea that he's not necessarily against Frank would strike a large note of fear through the hearts of all those who stand in the Punishers way, and would clear out the ranks a little. One problem; the only way to gain whatever amount of trust a guy like Deadpool can possibly give to someone, is to equal him in a fight. Frank has no illusions, he won't win, but he can definitely bring him for a tough fight. If he's really smart, Deadpool won't go for a kill too fast either. Frank stretched a little. "A little birdy me you might have had the same boss as our little friend tonight, at some point anyway. Would that little birdy be wrong?"
Clean up on aisle 7!
āNaturally, Iāve been stalking you for days.ā Of course he hadnāt been, but what odds? Castle didnāt know that. All he knew was that Wade was grinning. It was obvious behind his mask. Or maybe he knew Wade was messing with him. Whatever. Wade watched the man leave, angling his head to see him run down the road, tripping over his own feet a few times and nearly getting hit by a car as he fell into traffic. He chuckled, still able to see the shell-shocked expression on his face. He looked back at the Punisher. He was keeping his distance. Smart man.
āYou need to lay off the hookers man. I thought you were married. The wife wonāt be happy. Or maybe thatās a different Frank Castle?āĀ
Frank shot a quick glimpse over his shoulder to make sure tonight's business was still in piece after the obvious near car crash. He reverted his gaze back to Wilson. "A man is entitled to have a little fun every once in a while, isn't he?" Frank said, as dry as he could. Wilson mentioning his wife struck a nerve, but Frank would be damned if he'd ever let him notice. Frank knew how to deal with Deadpool in conversation, and could definitely survive a violent encounter if he played his cards right, but the idea of Wade messing with him intrigued him a little. Following him for days? Not a chance, but Deadpool interacting with you meant one of two things; he's interested in dealing with you, or he's interested in killing you. The latter is a possibility, but Wade wouldn't have gotten this close if it was. Frank was interested to see where this could go.
Clean up on aisle 7!
Wade had been away on mission for two weeks, so naturally his milk gone off. Literally. It had managed to make its way across the kitchen by the time he had gotten home. Wade had kicked and nudged it into the spare room and locked it behind him. He shivered, wondering what the milk will have turned into by the time he got up the balls to open the door again. Images of Audrey II popped into his head so he grabbed a chair and lodged it under the door.Ā
So that was how he found himself in the corner shop on the next block, watching the Punisher work. He leant against the fridge and stared as Frank cut into the guyās skin, his hand hanging beside his glock. āShouldnāt you do that kinda thing in private?ā He had to shout over the manās screams. The cuts werenāt even all that deep, what was the guy complaining about?
Frank finished leaving his message before answering the voice behind him, though he knew who it was. 'Deadpool. Sorry if we interrupted your nights shopping, but sometimes a mess must be made.' Frank let Skeet go. He definitely did not need this now as well. Walking closer to Deadpool, but keeping a distance, Frank asked 'Is this just a coincidence, or did you want to see me for something?' Frank didn't trust in Deadpool being here while he did business a coincidence. Indeed, Frank never encountered anyone out of coincidence.
Clean up on aisle 7!
Frank watched as his target did his dealings for the day. The park. At night. Just once, he wished these low-lives would cease with the stereo-types, but alas, here he is. This particular piece of dirt was easy to follow. He had a lot of regulars, and rarely dealt with new-comers. He was a middle-weight. An apartment in your average apartment building, he even maintained a relationship with a very naive model girlfriend. She'll see him again if he plays his cards right.
As the last deal was struck, Frank followed as Skeet, which was his business name, walked around the park, slowly counting his money. This little park was a hive of junkies, and he was the main supplier, so he thought he was safe. Thought. Frank kept within the shadows, making sure not making a sound. He crept up behind Skeet and just before he could grab him, 'Hey buddy, got any spare change!?!'. Gotta love junkies and their sense of timing. Skeet turned, took one look at Frank, and was running like his life depended on it, which it did. Frank shoved the junkie away and made chase. If this leaves the park, things are going to get difficult. Skeet was tearing away towards the North exit of the park. Frank made a b-line to cut him off, but was unsuccessful. Sure, shooting him was an option, but this is about information, not elimination.
Skeet was down the street before Frank had a second to consider options. Giving chase, he ended up in a supermarket. This is going to get messy. Frank climbed up and over the aisles before crashing down on Skeet. He was fast, but not too strong, and Frank had him easily subdued. 'We have two options pal, either we go outside and you tell me what I want to know' Frank said solemnly, 'or I pull you outside anyway and bleed it out of you, your choice.' 'Alright, alright, I'll go peacefully.....' Frank let go and they walked out peacefully, not before Frank gave the store owners some compensation for the mess. They swiftly found themselves in a dark alleyway, and Frank put Skeet against the wall. 'Whose supplying you, whens the next shipment, and how do I stop it?' Skeet hesitated. 'Now. What I will do to you is worse.' 'Oh...Okay mannnn...' Skeet was sweating profusely. This kind of fear means Franks been expected for a while. 'I don't have a name, or a number. I just get an enveloped first Friday of every month with a time on it and my business name. Business used to be entirely local, but then a new guy became in charge. We all got business names and were told to show up to this place to get supplied. If we're late on a payment, we're eliminated, if we try to run, we're eliminated. It's a tight ship. Warehouse 4 in the industrial estate behind the Walmart out near Westgrove. That's all I know, I swear.' Frank considered this. Something doesn't seem right, but the guy is telling the truth. Curious. Nevertheless, he got what he came for, now to tag his territory and move on. 'You won't be doing business around here again. Leave. Tonight. I'm going to make sure you're damaged goods. You'll live an honest life because after this, no-one will want to deal with you. This is going to hurt, kid. Brace yourself.' Frank took out his knife and began leaving his message.
The kind of cleaning most other people are afraid to attempt. Bit more than dust mites and washing dishes, I can tell you that much. Itās the kind of cleaning you yourself may be a little more than familiar with, if what Iāve heard about you is true.
Ah so that type of cleaning.. Canāt say I would every call it that and I suppose I have done my fair share but not without good reason. Can you say the same.. Frank?
Cleaning the streets is cleaning the streets. Many of what I have to dispose of hardly deserves any greater title. Good reason is what separates us from them at the best of times, and I'll die before I allow that to change.
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Different kind of cleaning, and nothing to do with your mansion, unless you make it so. I met Deadpool quite recently actually. Quite the character.
What kinda cleaning you do then? Yeah you can say that I suppose.Ā
The kind of cleaning most other people are afraid to attempt. Bit more than dust mites and washing dishes, I can tell you that much. It's the kind of cleaning you yourself may be a little more than familiar with, if what I've heard about you is true.
Frank, or The Punisher. Iām here to do a little cleaning up.
I didnāt realise we needed a cleaner. Wade hasnāt been around the mansion to break things and make a mess.
Different kind of cleaning, and nothing to do with your mansion, unless you make it so. I met Deadpool quite recently actually. Quite the character.
One and the same Bubā¦ What about you?Ā
Frank, or The Punisher. I'm here to do a little cleaning up.
You think much like I do. As I said, as long as you stay fighting to keep the world safe, weāll get along just fine. Considering Iām new here, I could do with an ally. *extends hand*
The war is coming, I could use all the help I can find, Iām vastly out numbered as it is. The heroes of this time give their enemies too much compassion, it is an ever lasting cycle that they are too stupid and blind to see. I have noticed your work, precise andĀ definite. *shakes hand* You need an ally? You got one.Ā
Indeed. Sometimes the only real option is to put the sick creature down. That said, we must not completely lack compassion. It is the one virtue that separates from these animals at times.
Heh, itās you alright. These? These are a pair of Colt M1911A1s, customized to my own personal standards. Effective in all situations. Swords are indeed a weapon of art, however, I find fists can be just as effective. *cracks knuckles*
*nods, clearly trying to hide that heās impressed* Effective in all situations. Psshh. Have you tried mixing a cocktail with one? I mean, itās hard, not impossible. So not really effective yāknow?Ā
*points at his knuckles* My mom always said if you do that youāll haveĀ arthritisĀ before youāre forty.
Never been much of a drinker. With that in mind, I'm sure they could whip up a killer mojito, given the chance (Frank never thought humor suited him, but with someone like Deadpool, it was a necessity if one hoped to remain sane. He's a tad....infectious.)
Your mom? There's a woman I'd like to meet. Cracking my knuckles is the least of my worries and none of yours, I assure you.
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The Captain is a good man. A little patriotic for my tastes, but a good man. Preservation of innocence can be difficult, but it should always be top priority, no matter who the evil is. Evil will come again one day, a childās laugh may not. Who else is running in the Avengers these days?
āToo true.ā Jan agreed. āWellā¦ itās really just me, Hank, Tony, Cap, Hawkeye and Hulk. Thor is in Asgard at the moment I thinkā¦ and last I heard, Black Panther is in Wakanda taking his place as King. And Black Widow pops in and out at random.ā
''I see.'' Frank nodded. ''Not a bad line up. Everyone need's a Hulk once in a while. I may borrow him if I need some real heavy lifting done.''
Hey, buddy. *points at his mask with a grin* Itās Deadpool when I got the mask on. So *leans to the side and notices Frank is packing* what Ā kinda hardware dāya have, hm? Personally, *draws his swords* Iām likinā the swordsā¦ Kind of finesse that people dun expect outta me, yāknow?
Heh, it's you alright. These? These are a pair of Colt M1911A1s, customized to my own personal standards. Effective in all situations. Swords are indeed a weapon of art, however, I find fists can be just as effective. *cracks knuckles*
