Warren Hampden, Deadpool. (mercofthemouth) wrote in musingslogs, @ 2011-04-09 15:22:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | deadpool, hatter |
Who: Warren "Isaac" Hampden and Julian "Noah" Greene.
What: Just casual friendly conversation. Especially if you take out the words "casual" or "friendly," and add "insane."
Where: Behind the Reliquary.
When: Saturday afternoon.
Warnings: Surprisingly harmless. This time.
After having a nasty weekend, Warren was in the mood to amuse and punish himself. Unbeknownst to him, his other self chose to take over and go out for a weekend stroll, leaving him with only foggy memories and pure anger. He hadn’t known that his other self could do that. The two ended up arguing into the wee hours of the morning, leaving Warren very tired and frazzled.
He wasn’t too thrilled with how things turned out and so he decided that if he was going to be irritating, why not take his favorite person down with him? Besides, he didn’t have the technology to find and tease Drake with the gun Warren now so lovingly owned. That he’d have to save for later.
Eli had made the mistake more than once of mentioning online where he worked. Noah, or Julian as he was called, seemed ever so attached to his friend. Therefore, it was only logical Isaac might be at this place as well. It was going to be a nice surprise for them both! If he was extra lucky, EIT members might be there and he could contend with them. Tucking the Beretta into the back of his waistband, he made his way over to the small coffee shop in search of a good time.
First he walked the perimeter. While noting there was no Eli (shame) or Drake (even sadder), there was too many people for his liking inside. But Julian was working and he would have to step out back sometime. Plopping himself on the edge of the trash bin, he swung his legs and waited for Isaac to show up.
“Working” was probably too broad of a term. When he was at Reliquary, Julian tended to get in the way more than he worked. The on-site staff saw him as an annoyance at best and a danger at worst, and to a one they all viewed him as having some kind of severe disability, because he acted like a child more than he acted like an adult. The intelligence and tendency to babble secrets got annoying, however.
In the waning hours of the afternoon, Julian got tired of assisting in the creation of cookie dough (the mixing bowl was handed to him for scraping) and wandered outside. Pretty soon Eli would come in after picking up the little girl that acted as something of a playmate until dusk, and Julian was bored and looked forward to the company. Backing out of the door with a stole pasty in one hand, Julian appeared on the step in front of the swinging screen. He had lost weight since Warren had last seen him, but put it on since he had come back into Eli’s care, and the result was a spindly, sallow creature of too many limbs and too wide eyes.
He looked around when he heard the echo of Warren’s heels on the trash bin, and froze when he saw him.
Since he last saw Julian, the kid hadn’t looked as bad then as he does now. Then again, he vaguely recalled his fellow coworker wasn’t so nearly riddled with issues. Oh like you’re such a peach, dear. “Shut up! You’re still on my shit list,” he seethed, pointing his finger seemingly at nothing. Then he turned to Julian and smiled. “Hiya friend! Don’t suppose you have one for me?” he asked, looking longingly at the baked good. It had been a long time since he got to eat fresh prepared food. Microwaved dinners were not the highest in haute cuisine. “You know, for someone who thinks I’m after him, you do a terrible job at hiding.”
Sharp eyes darted in either direction and then up and the roofs. Julian stayed where he was, in the shelter of the footstep, and a seasoned agent like Isaac would realize that he was minimizing the sight lines from any direction other than straight on and behind. “I said I wasn’t going to run any less,” Julian said. “I mean--I mean anymore. Not going to.” He still gave the other man a rabbit’s wide, fearful eyes, however. He knew what Isaac could do, and he was frightened of him. “Who are you talking to?”
Oh, Warren noticed Isaac’s careful positioning of his body in comparison to his. He smirked, his own indication that he knew Isaac wasn’t as subtle as he may have been trying to be. “No of course not. ‘Cause you have no reason to run.” Jumping off the trash bin, Warren began walking until they were right across from each other before stopping. “Why should I tell you? You haven’t believed anything I said yet.” Warren was very serious despite the smile on his face.
Julian’s brows furrowed. “Yes, that is true. But that is because usually I made up your lies, and you were good with them.” Julian twitched toward the door, like a rabbit about to bolt, but he stopped himself. He held out his pastry, arm very wide, shoulders very back, in case Warren decided to bite.
You can tell him anything you’d like, you’re just scaring him. “Yes well, that was part of the job. I’m in a new line of business now.” Julian’s peace offering surprised Warren, evident by his eyes widening a fraction at the pastry before he settled back into his happy face. Reaching out, he twisted off a hunk of the sweet bread letting Julian have the rest before popping it in his mouth. How sweet, I’m going to get cavities any minute now. “Shhh...” he whispered.
Obediently, Julian hushed his voice, muffled by bits of sweet bread and sausage. “I won’t tell. What are you doing for business?” He leaned forward with unconcealed, childlike interest, almost forgetting his fear for his life. Julian didn’t for a second think an ex-assassin of Isaac’s quality was bagging groceries. He wasn’t that crazy.
“What no that wasn’t for--nevermind.” Warren dismissed his earlier comment. He crossed his arms in front of him before leaning in as well, like they were children in a schoolyard instead of what they really were: broken mercenaries with minds to match. “What do you think I’m doing, Isaac?” Don’t you dare DON’T YOU DARE TELL HIM! “Hey!” he snapped, turning his head to yell at the wall. “My body, my rules and don’t you forget it, you dingbat.” Hilarious. It’s ours and if you’re really unlucky, mine. “I’m in sales,” he cheerfully supplied to Julian.
Julian turned to stare at the wall too, stopping off to the corner of the stoop to look at the wall as if it might speak. “I think you’re killing people. It’s what we do. Who are you talking to? Ghosts?” Mindlessly, Julian crammed more of the pasty into his mouth.
“I think if you think I’m going to admit that, you’re just a few screws loose,” he laughed at his own joke. Wasn’t funny. “Hm, the odd thing is since we’re ‘cut from the same cloth,’ you’d be more familiar with things like that,” he commented, tapping the side of his head. “But it’s not the same with you, is it?”
Julian looked perplexed. If madness was a willing thing, there was no telling whether he would have turned it on or off. Safe to say, however, that Julian never turned it ‘on.’ It came unbidden. “I’m not the same. I’m not Isaac.” He leaned in, whisper whisper. “Isaac never existed. I made him for you. I made Noah too.” He leaned back, flicking crumbs from his lips. “Like God.”
If he could have had a choice, Warren would definitely have refused the one with the extra sparkling personality. He really was putting a damper on his days more and more often now. “Playing pretend, that was fun, wasn’t it?” His smile was mischievous. “We had to be different, that was our jobs. And if you’re my deity, is this place church?” he asked, pointing to the Reliquary. He’s still a whackjob just like you. You know you have that gun, why don’t you use it? “Zip it,” he hissed before looking directly at Julian. “If I said there was another me, would you tell me who you are now?”
“If there was another you,” Julian said, in a rare boost of clarity, “I might run and run and never stop.” Then he blinked, tipped a curly head, and said, “But I never know what you mean. There are a lot of you’s. Some Noah’s, men with guns, or maybe another you like the one I can’t hear.” Julian poked a toe at the step. “The one you keep talking to."
"Aw, nice to know I haven't lost my touch." His mouth slowly thinned into a grim line when he saw how annoyingly on point Noah became with his observations. Sure, Warren brought it up, but Julian didn't have to be right on it as well. "If we're really lucky you'll never get to hear him. Life's kind of unfair that way." At that confession he looked unsure, wondering where either of them, who they were, what they are now, where did they fit into the world? Or were they to remain content remaining on the fringes for eternity? He changed the subject again. "I brought you something. A present! You want it?" Warren asked eagerly.
“Present?” echoed Julian. He was quite visibly torn by this new change of topic, flickering bloody memories of the kinds of ‘presents’ that Isaac had left for others when they were working together competing with sweets and warm clothes that others had given him between his bouts of confused fear. He’d eaten the pasty and licked clean grease fingers, and now he leaned out over the doorstep anxiously to see what kind of present it was--”Good or bad?”
Warren did so love giving more than receiving. And if he got paid for his gifts, so much the better. "Hm..." he pretended to ponder with mock sincerity, "well, I don't know. You might try to kill me again. Which was really unfair by the way," he pouted. Isaac still hadn't completely forgiven Noah for his unnecessary outburst at the EIT meeting. "If you promise not to stab me in the face, I'll give it to you."
“I wasn’t going to kill you,” Julian said, eagerly, putting on a resentful face more for show than anything. “I was just going to make sure you couldn’t come after me. Maybe a leg-shot, at best. You would have been okay. I don’t have any knives now. What kind of present is it?” Forgetting himself, he drifted down a couple steps, craning his neck.
Warren chewed the inside of his cheek before responding, amused at how quickly Julian’s curiousity won out over his fear. “We weren’t trained to play nice, Noah. You’ll forgive me if I think everyone might want to kill me.” He put his hands behind his back. You know this will end badly right? “Bah. He’ll like it. Maybe.” To Julian, “It’s the kind you can’t show your friends.” He was one unmarked white van away from being the creepiest present giver on the block.
Survival instinct kept Julian from going any farther out into the alley. He shuffled nervously to the side to try to see what was behind Warren’s back, and then shuffled forward and back. “What will I like? What did he say? What is it?”
Warren couldn’t help it. He started getting excited and it was evident by the way he started lightly bouncing on the balls of his feet. You know he’s just going to think you’re the crazy ass that wants to kill him right? Go on, tell him what I’m saying. “Okay!” he cheerfully responded. “He says you’ll think I’m crazy and you’ll probably want to kill me. Let’s see who’s right.” With flourish, he pulled out the gun he had been hiding and held it out to Julian, handle side facing toward him. Warren smiled eagerly. “Go on, take it.”
Julian didn’t want a gun. A gun wasn’t nearly as good a present as, say, a toy car, or another pasty, or even a new sweater. He pulled back a little from the weapon, but then leaned forward again when he realized that it wasn’t being aimed at him. “Why do you want me to take it?” he asked, suspicious.
“See, I was right,” Warren smugly stated to himself. First time that’s ever happened. “Yeah-wait...” he shook his head before looking at Julian. “Because it’s a present. So I give it, you take it, I don’t have it anymore. Just like a present. Why, don’t you like it?” he asked, looking almost hurt by the less than enthusiastic response.
Julian looked distrustingly at Warren’s face, and then down at the gun, and then again at Warren. He looked too young to know what to do with it, curls overgrown, eyes to wide, but when he came forward and plucked it out of Warren’s hand, it was with caution and care. He brought his other hand around and got a practiced grip on it, pulling it immediately out of reach and checking the chamber. “What’s special about this gun?” he asked, sounding, for the first time, not quite so childish.
Ah, now there was the Noah he remembered, not the more juvenile version he had seen panicking over Warren’s mere presence. Yes Julian, the gun is loaded. To Warren, a gun without bullets was just a club and not very useful. Shoving his hands into his jean pockets, he smiled. “It’s a Beretta, 9mm. It’s special because it’s innocent as far as I know.” If Drake had used it to kill anyone, well, that was before Warren got a hold of it. Julian didn’t need to know that.
“Clean?” Julian said, doubting the fact. That ‘as far as I know’ made it sound like Warren had acquired it later in its lifespan, and that was troublesome. “Where did you get it?” Julian made sure the safety was on and then he slowly let his arm drop under the weight of it.
"Sure!" He wasn't interested in confirming or denying Julian's question. What was life without a little mystery? Dull. He nodded. "I got it from a friend. You're not the only one who has friends," he huffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
Julian looked up from the gun, which he had turned to see if he could see the registration numbers. He looked perplexed. “You never had friends before. Contacts, maybe. Friends?”
Warren childishly forced his crossed arms even tighter as if he was trying to make a point. “I have friends! I couldn’t before ‘cause I was busy!” Busy killing and doing other bad things. “Semantics,” he snapped. “Anyways, it’s yours now, so keep it. I’m not taking it back.”
Julian tipped his head, perplexed, not understanding why this was point was so sensitive. He looked down at the gun, again made sure it was safe, and then tucked it into the small of his back and pulled his shirt out to conceal it. “Thank you,” he said, a moment later, politely, as this was what you did after you received presents.
The moment Julian thanked him, Warren’s face lit up. “You’re welcome friend! May you find a fun use for it. Don’t shoot mockingbirds though,” he advised while shaking his index finger at Julian, resisting a reaction when he could feel a rolling of the eyes inside his head. Deciding that was enough for now, he leaned in close and smiled toothily before hopping backward onto the top of the dumpster, reaching for the fire escape before turning his head to look back at Julian. “We’ll see each other again,” he waved before climbing up the ladder.
Conventional exits were for sissies. Well I don’t see you going out onto the street. “Oh shut up.”