He sat at the kitchen table, darkness covering him, but traces of his more prominent features could still be found. A glint from the sheen of his metallic limb, a trace of his stark, white hair as he shuffled in his seat and the unmistakable light that came from his left eye whenever his powers were in use.
“Cable?” The mercenary known as Deadpool inquired of the man sitting in his kitchen.
“Was it that obvious?” He replied with a smirk.
“It’s true what they say, huh? Nobody ever stays dead.” Deadpool moved quickly to attempt a surprise hug on the big man but was quickly stopped by Cable kicking out the chair across from him.
“Have a seat, Wade. We have a lot to discuss and, per usual, time is of the essence.” He obliged, and Cable continued, “First thing, what the hell are you wearing?”
Wade had forgotten that he was still wearing his suit from the failed date earlier in the evening as well as his usual red and black mask. “Is it the tie? Because I wanted something other than black but that was the cheapest.”
“Believe it or not, I did kind of miss this while I was away. As much as you can miss anything when you’ve become one with the embodiment of creation.” The grizzled mutant said with a chuckle. “Anyway, I’m here because I need your help retrieving a very powerful artifact.”
“Is it from the future? Ten bucks says it’s some crazy future technology,” Wade interrupted.
Nathan Summers sighed and shook his head. He had forgotten how hard explaining anything was around his would-be accomplice. “Yeah, it’s from the future. Well, a possible future.”
“Right, infinite realities mean infinite futures. We’ve been through that deal before.” The mercenary said with a dismissive wave.
“Whatever this tech is we’re not going to be the only ones after it. The other group, whoever they are, are going to try and track us. So, we need to stay as low-tech as possible.”
“Coming from the guy who is part metal, that’s saying something.” It was then that a thought ran across Deadpool’s mind, one of many, constantly moving about, but this one deserved attention. “You seem pretty fuzzy on the details. How do I know I’m not walking into some sort of trap? You could be some Skrull or something trying to trick me!”
Cable sighed again, a hint of annoyance already beginning to creep its way into his mannerisms. “Your middle name is Winston, your favorite song is “Easy Lover” by Phil Collins and you once had a romance with Death that you don’t like to talk about.”
“Nathan…it’s actually you.”
“Yeah, I thought we cleared that up earlier. Can we get back to the dangerous future weapon?” Cable began to say before stopping and looking over to Wade, who had produced a handkerchief from his breast pocket. “Are you crying?”
“What? No, you…you’re crying.” There was a moment of silence between the old partners before Deadpool spoke up. “Okay, dangerous future thing needs found before bad stuff happens. Where is it at and how are we getting there?”
Nathan’s eye began to glow, briefly illuminating the small kitchen. “That’s the tricky part.”
“Cable?” The mercenary known as Deadpool inquired of the man sitting in his kitchen.
“Was it that obvious?” He replied with a smirk.
“It’s true what they say, huh? Nobody ever stays dead.” Deadpool moved quickly to attempt a surprise hug on the big man but was quickly stopped by Cable kicking out the chair across from him.
“Have a seat, Wade. We have a lot to discuss and, per usual, time is of the essence.” He obliged, and Cable continued, “First thing, what the hell are you wearing?”
Wade had forgotten that he was still wearing his suit from the failed date earlier in the evening as well as his usual red and black mask. “Is it the tie? Because I wanted something other than black but that was the cheapest.”
“Believe it or not, I did kind of miss this while I was away. As much as you can miss anything when you’ve become one with the embodiment of creation.” The grizzled mutant said with a chuckle. “Anyway, I’m here because I need your help retrieving a very powerful artifact.”
“Is it from the future? Ten bucks says it’s some crazy future technology,” Wade interrupted.
Nathan Summers sighed and shook his head. He had forgotten how hard explaining anything was around his would-be accomplice. “Yeah, it’s from the future. Well, a possible future.”
“Right, infinite realities mean infinite futures. We’ve been through that deal before.” The mercenary said with a dismissive wave.
“Whatever this tech is we’re not going to be the only ones after it. The other group, whoever they are, are going to try and track us. So, we need to stay as low-tech as possible.”
“Coming from the guy who is part metal, that’s saying something.” It was then that a thought ran across Deadpool’s mind, one of many, constantly moving about, but this one deserved attention. “You seem pretty fuzzy on the details. How do I know I’m not walking into some sort of trap? You could be some Skrull or something trying to trick me!”
Cable sighed again, a hint of annoyance already beginning to creep its way into his mannerisms. “Your middle name is Winston, your favorite song is “Easy Lover” by Phil Collins and you once had a romance with Death that you don’t like to talk about.”
“Nathan…it’s actually you.”
“Yeah, I thought we cleared that up earlier. Can we get back to the dangerous future weapon?” Cable began to say before stopping and looking over to Wade, who had produced a handkerchief from his breast pocket. “Are you crying?”
“What? No, you…you’re crying.” There was a moment of silence between the old partners before Deadpool spoke up. “Okay, dangerous future thing needs found before bad stuff happens. Where is it at and how are we getting there?”
Nathan’s eye began to glow, briefly illuminating the small kitchen. “That’s the tricky part.”
Issue #7 by Liam Goncet
October 2018 Deadpool
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"Eye of the Storm"The morning sun pierced through the blinds in Jack Hammer’s room ushering in another day of staggering mediocrity. He groaned as he pushed himself up and out of bed moving out of his room and towards the kitchen. He gave a nod to Peepers as he opened one of the cabinets and got himself a bowl.
“Uh…Jack I think there’s something we should discuss.” The big-eyed mutant nervously announced. “Did Wade eat all the Crunch Berries again?” He jokingly replied. “No, not that, although we are out so…” Peepers briefly trailed off before shaking his head and getting back on topic. “I may be a bit fuzzy with my mutant superheroes but I’m almost positive I saw Wade leave with Cable. As in, big, old, one-time mutant savior, Cable.” “Cable…” Weasel repeated, attempting to remember the name. “Isn’t he one of the ones who always gets into big epic fights with super powerful bad guys? Why would he slum it with Wade?” Peepers shrugged, “They seemed pretty friendly though. I was gonna come out and see what was going on but…it was kind of scary.” “Scary how? Did they have their guns out and pointed at each other or something?” Weasel asked with a hint of concern. “No, nothing like that, Cable’s just so tall and muscular. He’s very intimidating to see in person.” Peepers sheepishly admitted. “I can see why you never cut it as a super villain.” Weasel poured some milk into his bowl and grabbed the bag of generic corn flakes, the only cereal left, before sitting down at the table. “So, you don’t think we should be worried?” “Look, if I worried about every time Wade wandered off with some random super-person I’d never have time for anything else. He’ll be fine and, more importantly, we’ll be fine.” As if on cue, the door to the apartment burst open as half a dozen figures in silver gas masks made their way into the kitchen. They all held blasters that seemed to be advanced even for SHIELD or AIM. The weapons were all pointed at the two men in the kitchen as Peepers looked at Weasel. “The world loves to prove me wrong doesn’t it,” Weasel mourned. The group of soldiers. gathered around the entrance to the kitchen, broke to make way for their apparent leader, wearing a golden gas mask and a long tan trench coat. The mysterious figure surveyed the kitchen before turning to face the duo. He pressed a button on the side of his mask as it disappeared, showing the face of a human man, a finely trimmed beard running along the edge of his face. “You will be coming with us,” there was a clear accent in his voice, but the pair couldn’t place it. “I trust you will not put up a fight. After all, you are merely pawns to bring your friends into our grasp.” Hank’s Boat Shack Deadpool and Cable teleported in the alley across from the, appropriately small, business known as “Hank’s Boat Shack.” The building itself seemed to have aged poorly, obvious chips in the brick of the storefront could be seen even from the duo’s vantage point. “Wow, that’s how you came back from the dead, huh? Boy, that sounds interesting, like something an audience would like to hear.” Deadpool snarked with a wink to no one in particular. “We could find a boat anywhere and you chose this place, why?” Cable asked, ignoring the prodding of his companion. “Hank owes me a favor and it might not look like it from the outside, but he does great work.” The masked mercenary replied as he made his way towards the shack. The doors to the business swung open as Wade made his attempt at a grand entrance. The, relatively small, number of patrons in the store looking in bewilderment at the spandex-clad weirdo who had just made his presence known. A short, pudgy man made his way over to the duo, a scowl on his face. “Excuse me sir, but we don’t allow masks in the store.” “Not even for an old friend?” Deadpool asked, waiting for a sense of recognition from the other man. “I’m sorry, am I supposed to know you?” The theoretical Hank confusedly asked. “I hoped you would have remembered me, I saved your dumb ass from getting stepped on by Fin Fang Foom once!” Wade angrily proclaimed. Hank took a moment to recall this before responding, “Wait, are you the guy who got thrown into me by another monster? I nearly broke my back getting hit by you.” “Well, you’re welcome.” “What my friend here has neglected to mention,” Cable said, staring daggers into Deadpool, “Is we’re looking for a boat, preferably one that can go a long distance.” “Hell, you should have said that earlier,” Hank said, also staring at Wade. “How long of a distance are we talking about?” “Between here and Antarctica,” the futuristic mutant plainly stated. Hank stared back and forth between the duo in astonished disbelief. “You boys don’t really do a whole lot of boating, huh?” “I tried being a pirate once, does that count?” Deadpool asked. Hank’s jaw went slack as he tried to comprehend what he had heard. “Look, I don’t really have any boats like that for sale. To tell you the truth, stuff like that is hard to come by commercially but I might know where you could find something like it for the right price.” “Ah, I see what you’re getting at,” Reaching into the front of his spandex pants, Deadpool produced his wallet opening it up and then, quickly closing it again. “Alright, Cable, pay the man.” The aged mutant sighed and moved towards the store owner. “Look, I’m sorry about this but my friend has left me no choice.” He grabbed the man by the front of his shirt, lifting him off the ground. “How about you tell us where we can find what we need, and we’ll be on our way?” New York Harbor The port bustled with activity as various boats and sea-faring vessels made their way in and out of the stations that comprised the harbor. Nestled in one of these stations was an old fishing boat. The white of its exterior had begun to yellow, due to a lack of proper cleaning, and rust had formed in parts of the hull. Still, the vessel appeared to be in working condition. “This would appear to be the place.” Cable said with a mix of disbelief and annoyance. “The ‘Itll Doo,’” Deadpool said upon seeing the faded name of the boat written on its bow. “That’s a bit on the nose, huh?” “Shaman,” Cable called out once they got closer. “I’m looking for the Shaman of the Seas.” “I know this looks like the type of deal where you’re gonna get murdered, but I promise that won’t happen…most likely.” The mutant assassin replied to reassure anyone listening. Before long, a ragged looking man made his way onto the deck, he wore his hair in a messy set of dreadlocks and his beard appeared to be unmaintained. The clear smell of alcohol escaped from him and mixed with the scent of sea water in the air. “Someone say my name?” The man’s voice had a rasp to it that implied years of heavy abuse. “Hey there, you must be the Shaman. I’m Deadpool, this is my friend Cable, we’d like to borrow your boat to travel to the Arctic.” The all too familiar silence of befuddlement fell once again. “Listen, you seem like reasonably intelligent folks. Well, one of you at least,” he corrected when looking back at Deadpool. “You ‘oughta be able to look at this boat and realize that it can’t get you out of this city, let alone, halfway across the world.” “He’s got a point,” Cable muttered. “So, you’ve got this wild nickname all because you own an old boat nobody would want?” The mercenary asked, confidence in his voice. “No way, I bet you have a fleet of boats and you just use this to keep the feds off your back.” The Shaman laughed and gave a shrug in return, “You got quite a story there. Let’s say you’re right, the ship you’d need would be more than either of you have and I’m not much for threats.” Cable looked over to his partner, who gave an awkward chuckle in return. “Big guy, how do you feel about robbing banks. You know, for the greater good?” Before the larger mutant could reply, masked figures in wetsuits quickly moved from out of the waters and onto the dock, surrounding the two, their weapons trained on them. “You guys don’t happen to have a couple thousand in those suits, do you?” Deadpool asked as he raised his hand, preparing to grab his katanas. “Do not reach for your weapons,” a voice boomed from the ship as another figure in a wetsuit, this one donning a golden gas mask, stood. He brandished his blaster in the direction of the Shaman. “Unless you would wish this man dead?” Cable cursed under his breath, “We wasted too much time. They’re already on to us.” “Indeed, we are, Mr. Summers.” The man took off his mask, his face was a pale white and he had a pencil-thin brown mustache across his upper lip. He sneered at the two heroes as he spoke, an unplaceable accent in his voice. “My name is Steinhoff and I have been sent by Roxxon to take back what belongs to them.” “Roxxon? Of course, those scummy, corporate shills are involved. Ugh, I bet this future tech is gonna be something boring like a device that makes people work harder.” Deadpool audibly groaned, “Why couldn’t we get something cool like a moon laser.” Cable raised a brow at his accomplice, “A moon laser? Why would a moon laser be in the artic?” “That’s the last place you’d expect it!” He replied before a clearing of the throat drew their attention back to the boat. “If you’re finished, I do have a prepared speech that I would like to read from.” The gunman reached to his side, pulling a small device from his belt. In the few seconds it took for this to happen, the Shaman leaped into action, grabbing the arm that Steinhoff held his blaster in. A shot rang into the air as the two wrestled for control of the weapon. The fight ended quicker than either could have imagined as Steinhoff’s face exploded from the impact of an assailant’s bullet. His body fell limp against the railing of the ship before tumbling overboard, into the drink. From the dock, Cable’s pistol, an absurdly large gun that would seem out of place held by anyone other than the grey-haired mutant, smoked in the aftermath of it’s latest kill. “He shouldn’t have taken his mask off.” Cable smirked as he held up his metallic arm to block the incoming rounds from two of the men in front of him, quickly dispatching them with a few well-placed shots of his own. Behind the futuristic mutant, Deadpool unsheathed his katanas, cutting off the hands of two of the men shooting at him. This left one poor soul standing to valiantly shoot at the regenerative assassin, to no avail. “Damn, I just got this suit fixed and now it’s already got bullet holes in it again.” Deadpool complained as he casually absorbed the last of the soldier’s ammunition. “I really need to invest in some Kevlar or something.” He casually pulled out one of his pistols and fired two rounds into the chest of the man in front of him, sending him crashing back into the water. He unloaded the rest into the two he had dismembered, before turning to see how his partner had fared. Cable had rushed the last surviving solider and pinned him to the ground, his massive metal arm against the man’s throat. The man wheezed as he breathed in what little bit of air he was currently able to, “You are fools. You have doomed your friends and family. Steinhoff will not be so easily defeat-“ the man’s rant was cut short as Cable pressed his arm further into his throat. The man thrashed for a moment before going limp. “Friends and family? Yeah right, like we have any of that.” Deadpool joked as he moved towards the ship, where the Shaman was surveying the carnage they had just unleashed. “So, is there a ‘We just saved your ass’ discount?” “I’m a little scared, Jack.” Peepers whispered to his roommate and fellow hostage, Jack Hammer AKA Weasel. “Yeah, I know, you’ve told me at least ten times now.” Weasel replied, coldly. The duo had been blindfolded, taken to an unknown holding facility and tied to chairs. The room they were in was dimly lit, a single ceiling light being the only source in the whole area, and empty save for the seats they were each confined to. In the room with them stood a lone guard, who periodically looked to his watch, awaiting another soldier to come and take over his duties. “So, I think I’ve got a plan,” Peepers whispered back. “You’ve got a plan?” Weasel stifled a laugh, “What are you gonna do, look at them really well?” “Hey, I don’t see you coming up with anything, Mr. Smart Guy.” Peepers responded. “Nice comeback, okay fine, tell me your plan.” Weasel said, eying the guard, looking at his watch once again. “There’s something I haven’t really told you-“ “Hey,” the guard said with all the authority of a half-awake parent, “Stop doing that.” “Never mind, I’ll just show you.” Before Peepers could follow through, however, the door swung open and two more soldiers entered the room. “The device Steinhoff gave us for monitoring his lifeline has stopped.” One of the men informed the guard. “We have reason to believe he has been killed. Most likely by the time traveler and his cohort.” “Shit,” the guard cursed, his general lack of interest replaced with genuine concern for his own well-being. “What about the captives?” The solider looked over to the two before replying, simply, “Put a bullet in them.” “Now would be a good time for that plan of yours, Peepers.” Weasel muttered to the large-eyed mutant. “Well, come on, let’s not waste time with this.” The solider yelled back to the guard, noticing his hesitation. The other solider, who had been standing in the hallway, gave a grunt and stumbled forward. Protruding from his neck was a sharp object made of pure thermal energy, the man fell to the floor, with a horrifying gurgle coming from his throat. “Sorry about this, boys, but you have some people that I can’t let get hurt.” A man, clearly powered judging by the knife-like claws of energy that appeared at his fingertips, walked into the room. The mutant, known as Pete Wisdom, wore a standard, black suit, a crumbled pack of cigarettes sticking out of the pocket of his dress shirt. “Who the fuck do you-“ The solider instinctively went for his gun only to be pierced by three energy knives as they leapt from Wisdom’s fingers. “Hey, you gonna do something? It’s kind of boring if I murder you all without much effort.” Wisdom said to the guard, who stood motionless in shock, as he lit a cigarette. Footsteps rang out from down the hall as two more soldiers made their way to the entrance of the room. Wisdom turned around and raised his hands as the two men prepared to unload on him with their weapons. Before they ever had the opportunity, a loud screech was heard from down the hallway, the force of which sent the men crashing into the nearby wall. Siryn floated into view, landing in the doorway with a smirk, pushing her red hair out of her face. “I had that handled,” Wisdom said with faux annoyance. “Sure, just like you have him ‘handled?’” Siryn replied in her Irish brogue, pointing over to the last remaining guard. Using the distraction to his advantage, the guard had moved over to Weasel, holding a gun to his head. “He doesn’t get out unless I do.” “Oh Christ, just what I need someone trying to play hostage. Listen buddy, you’ve got two powerful mutants standing in front of you right now. Do you really think you can win?” Pete attempted to psych out the guard and cause him to flinch, waiting for an opening to strike. The moment of hesitation came, but it was not Pete Wisdom who took advantage. Instead, a beam of energy shot into the side of the guard and sent him cascading into the corner of the room. Not far from Weasel’s position, Peepers sat with his head down, steam rising from his eyes. “Make that three powerful mutants,” Siryn responded after a moment of dumbfounded silence. “Okay, what the hell is happening right now?!” Weasel shouted in confusion. “Not sure what’s up with your friend but it’s pretty simple for us. Your buddy, Wade, royally shit the bed and we’re here to fix it.” To Be Continued… |