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 Killing Time, OPEN
Deadpool
 Posted: Jul 31 2016, 09:50 PM
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player: jamey
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What to do today? Better get up, have some coffee maybe a cigarette and head over to Sister Margret's and see if there was any fun to be had this fine sunday. He had attended his own personal version of church, which meant giving the church a nod as he headed past it. Strolling in, hood drawn tight about his face to shield himself from the public. For all the confidence he exuded with the mask on he held back while out in public. He knew it was stupid but just didn't want to hear how he looked like a shriveled avocado right now. Perhaps it was the whispers of the crowd, perhaps the voices in his head he wasn't sure but either way he didn't want to hear it right now. The only thing he wanted to do was work and get his mind off of everything. He was then handed a card, then a folder with the info on his target on it. "The Smithsonian! Yes! I love old shit!" He gave a light shrug "Yeah I'll take it"

This was going to be awesome! He loved museums! All kinds of cool shit in those places to touch. The target was the curator of the museum, believed to be linked to the mob in the city but he didn't care about that he had a job to do and he didn't have too much of conscience so he would shoot,then boot out then hopefully end the day with some ice cream! "Wonder if they have maple walnut?' He promptly headed home and got his things together then headed out on his motorcycle to the city.

First things first, he would have to learn everything he could about the guy before he was going to pull the trigger. He needed to know where he ate, slept, took his morning shit. The important things. He started off simple, watching the man from a distance and from what he could tell he got up promptly at 6am, headed to his favorite gym where he didn't even work out, he just went for a steam with the trainer then headed out for breakfast at his mothers."mama's boy" He sat on the edge of his bike seat sipping his morning coffee. Then it was time for the scumbag to get to his job for the day.

Glancing at the file, the man had a good education. Wife, mistress, seemed like he had everything he could want yet he was dealing drugs hidden in priceless works of art. Wade continued to observe from a distance for a few hours. It had been night now. He sat perched across an adjacent roof taking a bite of his subway sandwich while he counted the number of people in the building after hours.The man had an awful lot of body guards for a "curator"."No one really understands how much work it is to kill someone I mean I could go in and shank the guy but this way I can get a free trip to the city"
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Iron Fist
 Posted: Oct 26 2016, 01:38 PM
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Danny Rand
player: Jax
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It's not the goodbyes that hurt. It's the flashbacks that follow.

Danny Rand and New York City, so far, were still getting to know each other. The pace of the city, along with the personalities of its people, was so different from what he had known the past decade and a half. He had been young when he had last been here, just eight years old before his parents had taken him to China. He hadn’t known then that he would not return for a very long time, and he viewed it all with the eyes of a child anyway. He didn’t appreciate the world he lived in until it had been taken from him on the same day he lost his family.

Life had been too busy for Danny to slow down. Meetings with Hogarth, the settlement with the Meachums, starting up the dojo, and Iron Fist becoming a wanted criminal all ticked away at his free time. It must have been obvious enough on his face for people to notice, because people kept telling him take a day off. He hadn’t wanted to close the dojo to classes, knowing that it was sometimes the only place where some of these kids could go after school, but he had left it in charge of a trustworthy adult student who could handle a lesson or two with the pack of children that would come in. So with that, Danny took to the city.

His headphones in, he walked the streets of the city he was born in, and he could not help but compare so much of it to his home in Kun-Lun. The skyscrapers were larger than anything from back there, and even though he had seen them when he was a kid, they were still somehow larger than he remembered. The skyline was different, but someone had already told him what happened that day so many years ago in the middle of September, when hate had caused so much pain. The city, though, had survived, and he admired that. So, he walked, looking for all of the familiar names from his past.

It was about mid-day when he stopped in front of the steps of the Smithsonian, more memories coming back to him. His father had loved history almost as much as he loved science, so regular trips had been a must. He would walk between his parents, holding their hands, letting them lifting and swing him as they strolled along the sidewalk. It had been the middle of autumn, and he was wearing a thick coat to keep him warm. Leaves were drifting from the trees, until the sky opened up and they were there. Just like he had when he was a child, Danny walked up the stairs of the museum… only this time, he was alone.

He spent the rest of this afternoon wandering the tall ceilinged halls of this church of knowledge. He felt exactly the way he felt when he was a kid. It was all new to him, and he was genuinely excited at the next rich land of information that would be spread out in front of him when he turned the next corner. He forgot that he hadn’t eaten all day, and was about to turn from the museum and head to the gift shop before finding something to eat, when he came across a room that he almost missed. The Smithsonian was full of little rooms and alcoves that might be hard to catch on the first time through, and Danny might have missed it himself, if he had not caught familiar script out of the corner of his eye.

BY now the museum was near closing for the night, and the room, probably seeing less traffic anyway, was abandoned. It was a room depicting artifacts and information from southeast Asia, and Danny walked by many displays that showed Shogun armor and descriptions of terracotta and the soldiers that were made of it. None of them even caught his eyes. There was one display, lit from above, giving the artifact within harsh corners, the dragon depicted on the stone slab looking like some long scaled monster with sharp teeth and eyes of fire. The description on the display told the story of what little was known about the mystery of this dragon. The slab had been found in the Himalayan Mountains, though no one could determine the cultural origins, or even how properly old the item was.

But Danny knew, just as much as he knew his father and mother loved him, and he knew the fire that burned under his skin.

Kun-Lun…

He would know the script and the art anywhere. This was part of wall art, depicting the War of the Heavens, and the great contest that came every 88 years, the calling of the Champion. But how? How had it ended up here? Kun-Lun was not of this plane of existence, but existed as one of the 7 Capital Cities of Heaven. He would know it anywhere. His heart ached with homesickness, as flashes of faces came before him and were gone. Two worlds... he came from two worlds, but he had always thought they were kept separate.

It took only a few phone calls to get him set up with an after-hours visit with the curator. He was quickly discovering how easy things were with the “Rand” name and a few billion dollars in the bank account. He didn’t even need to promise anything before the curator agreed to see him, and, a short time after nightfall, guards were showing Danny the way past closed, dark, and locked displays and into the administrative wing of the museum. They even knocked on the door for him, which was odd because he had gotten used the security guards having a more hands off kind of approach.

Stepping into the office, he introduced himself to the curator before being asked to sit down. Danny had a lot of questions… and he wasn’t going to leave without answers.

notes: got a meeting with your target…
words: 998 | tag: Deadpool, open


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Deadpool
 Posted: Nov 19 2016, 07:17 PM
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player: jamey
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He finished his sandwich tossing it down to the ground, it landing on a poor unsuspecting couple about to kiss.He threw on his mask and stood up he had a job to do and now seemed like a good time as any. He had done more than enough observation to warrant finishing this thing and heading out to collect his pay, maybe go grab that ice cream he hadn't stopped thinking about since he left home. He had the plan in his head on how he was going to pull this off,he was going to drop down and rain some hell on the drug dealer.At least that was what he thought when he was interrupted by another person joining the party."Oh come on! I do not need this right now... ughhh".Oh well one more person to kill, but that also meant another witness.

Well well karma touche.. touche...

His eyes looked over the room once more, he would have to rethink the badass approach he had in mind for something a little messier.Good thing blood didn't show on his clothes.As he reached into his favorite duffle, he began to bob his head to the internal music that was getting him pumped up. Moving along to the beat of Wake Me Up Before You Go Go, he loaded his pistols, threw a couple of ammo clips onto his holsters and made sure his katanas were safe and sound in their quiet little homes resting before they were about to be traumatized by being covered in blood."Whoo wake me up before you die die".Once he had been satisfied with his items in place, he was ready to rock.Though most thought he was crazy, and perhaps they were right they seemed to miss something about Wade, he was a meticulous planner which was one of the things that made him such an effective killer.Every move and strike of his sword was planned before he even swung it.

Starting off in a run, then pausing at his landing spot he sunk his grapple into the side of the building and landed softly on the ledge of the top floor, his footsteps quiet as they made their way into the building.He managed to sneak by an office employee, as they were no doubt making their way out of the building for the night. They obviously weren't part of this, he could have easily killed her but she had a great ass and he couldn't deprive the world of said ass. The office wasn't far away, he crouched down and could see it from where he stood. All he needed to do to effectively kill him but where was the fun in that. He hated to just shoot and run it left no room to do epic shit and epic shit he would do. He got a little closer to the office and the heat was on, it really was on... he was sweating his balls off in this suit.Perhaps the next one could allow for more breezy killing.

He took out a few guards and managed to not kill them, boring. More were starting to come at him and he disposed of them quickly.Turning his head to see that the curator had noticed him and began to show the obvious signs of panic that Wade seemed to induce in people who knew he was about to kill them, he decided to speak."Hello gentlemen, seems a fine night to kill drug dealing douchebags normally I wouldn't care get your dollar bills but when you sell to teenagers?..come on dude even I think that sucks"

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Iron Fist
 Posted: Nov 23 2016, 12:32 PM
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Danny Rand
player: Jax
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It's not the goodbyes that hurt. It's the flashbacks that follow.

Danny sat across from the curator of the museum and started to realize just how much he did not like the guy. The man was all business and no softness. He wanted to know why “Mr. Rand” (Danny heard his father called that so many times when he was a child, it sounded weird on his ears when someone called him it) was there, and he wanted to know what he needed to do in order to wrap the meeting up quickly. Danny had the feeling that this man wanted or needed to be somewhere else and was only here because the Rand name carried some weight in society, and the museum relied heavily on the donations of the people who lived in Danny’s current tax bracket.  

When it came to the exact “what” as to why Danny was there, the curator become more irritated. He said that the item had been a donation to the museum, not something that one of their own staff had procured, and when Danny asked who it was donated by, the curator had no answer for him. Oh, he had a name, he just did not remember it… if Mr. Rand would like to come back at another time after he could go through the paperwork… Danny was very suspicious that any information would ever come to him, and since he could not legally say anywhere that he was associated with the mystical realm of Kun-Lun, there was nothing he could do about it legally.  

He was thinking about what else he could do to possibly be persuasive, when there was a ruckus from the hallway behind him. The door was closed, but he could hear the distinct sounds of a melee fight from beyond it. He stood up, ready to face whatever came through that door, but keenly aware that the curator was behind him. Jerk or not, he was a civilian, and Danny needed to protect him. On the other, though, no one knew that Danny Rand was also Iron Fist… if Danny were to break out with even a partial extent of his training, he could give himself away. But already he was moving, stepping behind the desk with the curator, a reasonable enough move for anyone who might be frightened for their life…  

When the door burst open, Danny moved quickly. A hand reached out and across the curator’s chest, and the both of them went down to the ground. One of the first things Danny had been taught was that, sometimes, it was necessary to hide his skills, so he learned how to make his motions look like lucky stumbles or clumsy accidents. They were a mess of limbs as they fell to the ground, all the while Danny looking like the bumbling billionaire that he was pretending to be. Him and the curator were both looking over the edge of the desk, which offered them a moderate amount of cover, when the man walked it.  

The red-clad man had an aura around him that singed at Danny’s nose. It was like the scent of burnt o-zone, but he could hear it in his ears. Meeting the man gave him a brief feeling of synesthesia, and it took him a few blinks for his senses to recover. In that time, the red-man had managed to say what he needed to say, and Danny could feel his ears pop. He turned his head slowly to the man next to him, his eye narrowing as he did. “Is this true….?” he said, low and harsh at the curator, confronting him about the accusation that this man in red was making… The way the man looked back told Danny the only thing he needed to know.  

He had been dealing with a criminal… and he hadn’t evwn known….  

Slowly, though for a moment his eyes remained leery at the curator, Danny raised his hands, and slowly stood up in the universal sign of surrender. He turned his head towards the red stranger, and relaxed his face. Non-threatening. Unassuming. “Hey, um, friend…” He wasn’t exactly sure what to call the stranger with the arsenal, but he was certain “friend” should not have been it. Still, what was done was done. “You got em’. Great job. We’re done here. You can put the gun down…” He reached a hand forward, still in surrender, but gesturing that the man could lower his weapon. “We can turn him over to the cops now, right? Take him down… find out who he works for... yeah?”  

He couldn’t let this man just blow the curator away. That wasn’t how justice was supposed to work. What about his victims, who deserved to see him punished? And what about this strange artifact from Kun-Lun? It was clear that the curator knew something, and if he died, that may be information Danny will never have a chance to find again. The plot thickened….

notes: well, it does!
words: 822 | tag: Deadpool, open


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Deadpool
 Posted: Jun 5 2017, 09:15 PM
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player: jamey
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Wade looked across the room to the man who tried to tell him to put the gun down and that the police should take care of this. Seriously.."Oh yeah I'd love to hand this guy over to the police and get him sent to jail so he can become butt buddies with some guy named Martha but i don't have time for that, people like him are the reason why the papers read 10 teens killed at a party this week..he doesn't deserve justice and who the hell ar you to decide curly sue?" Who did this guy think he was, he looked like a Martha..maybe he was interrupting something here. Maybe not.

Gun still held high he asked the question that the curly dude asked, repeating."Is it true dinglenuts or what i do not have all day, there is a buffet at the strip joint down the street and it's calling my name so please.."He then began tapping his foot impatiently. He didn't have the time for this, but the pay was going to be sooo good he might be able to feed the whole damn bar..and then some. If a good deal on chicken wings wasn't a reason to kill, then he didn't know what was. He could have very easily killed everyone in this room and had his buffet but he was sort of curious to know if the information he had received was in fact correct or a bunch of bull, either way he was getting paid. Not even curly sue could stop him right now.

Iron Fist
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Iron Fist
 Posted: Jun 13 2017, 10:22 AM
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Danny Rand
player: Jax
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danny
Killing Time
Danny had been in his fair share of standoffs before. Some of them had been rather chatty, with banter or outright threats being tossed around before any real attacks were made. Sometimes, it didn’t even come down to a fight at all, and all parties walked away from it without a scratch. Those were good days. This particular standoff, though, did not feel normal. It started off within the realm of normal, for sure, but quickly took a left hand turn into strange the more the masked man spoke.

“Exactly,” Danny said, follow up on the stranger’s words. “Who am I to decide what justice this man deserves? Who are you? That is why we have a system, right?” He was not foolish enough to not keep an eye on the curator as the conversation went on. So far, the curator had not tried to make any dumb decisions, which was good for him, because Danny saw very few ways of getting out of this without revealing some of his skills if the curator tried to make a run for it.

“Besides,” he continued, feeling already that this man was going to need something more than the “trust the system” speech. “If you kill him, that is where the clues end. Those ten dead kids are still going to be dead, and the thing that killed the will still be out there. You have no leads.” The distance between himself and the masked man was too small, he realized, for him to be comfortable. If he used that gun he was waving around, it was going to get complicated quickly. Danny himself had no weapons, while the stranger was loaded with them. It was a disadvantage, but not impossible.

”Curly Sue” was a nickname that Danny might have liked under a lot of circumstance, but he just could not get himself to grin at it. “Turn him over. Let the cops interrogate him. Find the bigger fish, ya know? The strip club will be there tomorrow.” The distance between them was a lot smaller now, with Danny still playing the part of harmless billionaire. His hands were up in the universal sign for surrender (or one of the first stances most martial arts teachers taught their students.) He looked at the masked man, inquisitively. Behind him, he could hear the curator’s breath coming in rushed puffs. He was scared. He could feel the energy coming off of him.

“You already frightened him,” Danny pointed out to the stranger. “I have a feeling he will be more than willing to talk now.” An arm’s reach away, carefully, Danny still stood waiting. Loose cannons could not be predicted. He needed to wait and see and then react. He didn’t like it, but this was not exactly a normal office call.

[-] words: 518{-} tag: [Deadpool] [-]
[-] notes: calm down? [-]
THANKS PANDEMIC!

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