You Will Die Alone

“Welcome to Sister Margaret’s, what can I get you?”

“Ol'Jackie for my tortured soul”

"Well alright," Weasel poured the drink. "There ya are." He slid it to her and looked at her curiously. "You wanna... I don't know, talk about it or something?" He asked slightly uncomfortable.

horrificmemes:

“Welcome to Sister Margaret’s, what can I get you?”

“White Russian, and a side of…where the hell is your buddy ‘ol pal with the nightmare on elm street wanna be face?” She rose a brow, a total stranger and new comer of course. Annie had a fine taste of choosing places to hang out in, and she was sure she wouldn’t even touch this place with a ten foot pole, but here she was– ordering a drink. “So, unless you want me to blow this place in the air sky high, I suggest you start talking.” As much as she wanted to…she couldn’t. It was merely a tactic of straight to the point intimidation. The brunette casually slapped a 10 dollar bill on the gritty counter top, her voice hushed enough to where no one else could hear besides the man directly in front of him. “And I would definitely avoid trying to kill me, I’ve had a really shit day and just want a drink, ya know? See, your friend is stirring up god knows what and I was sent for god knows why. If it were up to me? I’d kill him, but come to find out; the little shit can’t die. All I’ve been told is find his location, get some Intel, bring it back because I’m the person they send,” She also in the process of her long speech pulled out a FN 5.7, clapping it harshly against the table in irritation. Now that pistol was a beauty crafted for quick situations, especially when it came down to a hostage situation. Unfortunately, tonight was a non-violent night with a SHIELD agent sent out with little to no Intel, besides simple orders. Way to go for security! “When things get messy. Make it double on the Russians.”

"I- what?" Weasel asked as the woman seemed to have a weird internal monologue out loud. She sounded like some old spy film, or like she was Humphrey Bogart, but talking to herself, but aimed at him. When she pulled the gun out his eyes widened as he realized there weren't many people in the bar yet, and none of them had noticed the predicament he was in. "Okay, slow down," he said after a moment. "Let me get the drink, and then we'll move on to whatever else this is about." He told her as he moved to start making her drink.

Send me ⚠ to find my muse at the end of a trail of blood.

Reblog if you’re an Indie Marvel RP blog!

"Aw, no Saint Wade act this time?" Weasel asked as he retrieved the cash that went to the gold cards. "I don't blame you, this lady was a real bitch," Weasel said as he handed wade the cash for each of the gold cards, and taking the old ones. Sure he had been hard to look at before, but Weasel was used to Wade's scarred face by now. "Pick a card, any card." Weasel fanned out the gold cards and held them out to Wade. "Take two if you're feeling up to it, though... you look like shit."

Please reblog this post if you roleplay a ‘Deadpool’ character