#contract killer

Name:

Mr "Ant" Tenna (Crosshairs) 

Hight:

bigger then Canon tenna 

About him:

•A version of tenna where he became a Contract killer, starting this as a second job even when he was still a TV star. Tho eventually his popularity dropped but his second job got more demanding, so he quit his job as a TV host and went full time killer- 

•works out.

•smokes a lot.

•he creates little plushies out of wool in his free time, he loves knitting and crochet. But this is more of a secret that only people close to him know- 

•the clothes he wears, he chooses on practically and comfort. 

•mostly comes of as grumpy and cold, is actually a rather sweet person. 

•has a hard time building friendships or any other kind of relationships. (He is scared of getting hurt, used or hurting others. )

•Crosshairs after getting shot through the TV screen- (headshot) was able to get his screen and most parts in his head fixed, but some are still broken or damaged. Resulting in him getting sometimes random headaches, migraines, overheating or in rare circumstances crashing and just blacking out- ...He will never tell or let it show tho-

•loves to cook and is also really good at it, likes to cook for others even more.

•his boisterous showman persona sometimes still shines through, this happend more when interacting with kids.

•he has a really warm personality even if he hides it behind a cold and grumpy shell, really careful and nice around younger people.

•still feels really happy if he gets to make people smile.

•his job as a contract killer made him much more careful when interacting with others, while also more stern but also calm.

•often forgets to sleep or eat properly because of his job.

Backstory stuff- 

•Finding out that the traumatic day he got shot and his lover ran away and left you alone there... that he was the one who let him there on purpose to get shot? Yeah that hurt- 

•Those two are not on good terms ! (Tenna and Spamton)

•For context- Spamton and crosshairs where in a relationship when crosshairs was already a well known killer. 

•Crosshairs had already many people who wanted to know who he is, and then gone because of his success rate...

•Spamton used him to have a free protector in some way, but also pretty much was a really shady person back then. He made deals with the wrong people, an when they wanted him dead when he couldn't Pay up. He shouted that his lover will kill them because he is that well known killer! Yeah dumb idea they made him lead tenna into a trap to save his own butt, to be fair Spamton didn't know they wanted to kill crosshairs- but it was rather obvious... and he is just an asshole! Hooray!

•he would love to make Spamton pay.

•he hates himself for trusting Spamton back then, asking himself if Spamton ever really liked him.

If legal, training and all the other usual considerations weren't a factor, would you become a hit-person/assassin for hire? The answers in the poll are the reasons yes/no.

Again, this was just a discussion and it is all hypothetical. I just got curious if people are reluctant to take a life because it goes against their own morals, or if they would think the life being taken was being taken was at someone else's behest so it wouldn't be them who (nominally) is taking the life.

The back of Mercenary Tao's vest reminds me of Dennis from the SpongeBob movie.

Genre: Crime Thriller

Word count: 550 words

Trigger Warnings: violence, murder

Blurb: Anjola Okoro doesn't leave loose ends. A contract killer with a flair of precision and efficiency, she always gets the job done. But when payment becomes a problem, an arrogant, drunken crime boss learns the hard way that no one messes with Anjola Okoro.

Author's Note: Another short story written a long time ago, though this one was thoroughly edited. I don't remember when but it was probably written during my Spy-Fi phrase when I was obsessed with things like Gallagher Girls and Alex Rider. I've always loved mysterious secretive woman like Carmen Santiago and Agent Carter who were the main inspirations for this story.

He gets in about midnight. "That was a long drive," he says, pulling off his gloves. I help him out of his jacket.

"How did it go?"

"He won't be giving evidence."

We move into the living room and he pours himself a brandy. I cut him a cigar. He puts it between his teeth and I light it for him. He puffs a couple of times then inhales deeply and sighs out a large cloud of smoke. He drinks some of his brandy. He watches me intently.

"His plane was delayed. I had to sit in the car for half an hour. I fitted a silencer to the automatic and put it on my lap. Then I lit my pipe and smoked it while I waited."

"He was taller than I was expecting. I saw him walk over from Enterprise. He'd rented a black Mercedes. Brand new. Very nice motor."

I pull him towards me, put my arms around his waist. Our bodies touch and we kiss for a few seconds. He knows I like to hear every detail of his work. He knows it gets me aroused. It works for both of us. He smells good. He pulls on his cigar and exhales the smoke into my mouth and I breathe it in.

His voice lowers: "I pulled my driving gloves back on, got out and walked over behind him. When I was a few feet away, I took my pipe out of my mouth and cleared my throat. 'Excuse me, sir,' I said and he turned around. He was wearing glasses so I shot him just below his left eye."

He drinks some more brandy, pulls on his cigar again. "Then I put my pipe back in my mouth and strolled back to the car. No-one was close enough to see. No fuss. All very straightforward."

"Why did you get him to turn around?"

He looks at me, surprised and a little offended.

"What? Shoot him in the back of the head? I'm not a monster!"

"No," I concede. "What did you do with the gun?"

"I wiped it down and tossed it in a river," he says. "Shame to lose a good piece of kit. It won't be found."

"I should imagine not." I stroke his face, looking him deep in the eyes, and kiss him again. "Still, seventy-five grand'll buy you another and a few tins of tobacco. Maybe even a cigar or two..."

He smiles. I loosen my dressing gown and let him glimpse a little of my hairy flesh underneath. He finishes his brandy, inhales on his cigar. He touches my face and growls a little. He doesn't take his eyes off mine. He lets the smoke out of his nostrils and starts to undo his belt. We both know what we want. He's been thinking about it all the way home.