Who: Deadpool and Gael Vimes What: One just hired the other for a job, but it's not as it seems. Where: At an undisclosed location. When: 40 minutes after this email. Warnings: Violence, the usual.
Normally Deadpool didn't like to show up and greet the people who hired him just to hash out details. It was easier to keep distance between himself and the client, just as it was the same with his targets. His last job was perfect testament of why he couldn't let himself get emotionally involved. However, the money was sure to be good and well, he sure did love his job. Plus after this one, he'd make some nice bank to lay down low for a while. Doing said job wasn't as fun when people were busy plastering his 'face' all over the city, and he wouldn't have as much fun meeting JP for the first time if he was dead. Quickly smoothing on his costume, he hurried to the location they both agreed upon.
However, just because the money was good it didn't mean he automatically trusted the benefactor. Holding one of the guns in his hand, he kept it aimed at the ground, fully loaded and safety off. Cautiously, he entered the room in the building they agreed upon. "Miss Daisy..." he singsonged aloud, trying to catch their attention.
By the time Deadpool arrived, Gael had already been there for a good twenty minutes or so, getting the lay of the land. Laying traps wasn't usually his MO, just because of the effort it entailed; he was more a show up, shoot the target(s), and collect kind of guy, elaborate ruses were generally beyond his patience, but in this case he'd figured he would have to make an exception. Mercs were generally precautious types as a rule, after all, and he preferred to play this by his rules. Who knew how long it would take for him to get enough of a lead for surveillance, so setting some bait and waiting to see who bit had been the easiest option.
...He still had to verify it was the right guy. Damn. Well, at least that could be done easily enough, easier to get a straight answer in person anyway; can't trust anybody over the internet, it's too easy to leave things out or say things that are outright not true with nobody any the wiser.
When his mark's voice (or what he assumed was the mark's voice, anyway, and the Daisy reference was enough of an indicator that he was right) broke the silence, he perked up. He checked his own stash one more time then stood, shoving a handgun into his shoulder holster before emerging from behind the stack of crates he'd been using as cover, and smirked a little as the man who'd spoken seemed to be none other than the same guy whose mug had been posted all over the city. Well there was the verification right there. "You the guy?"
"I'm as much of the guy as you might be. What other name did I call you besides Miss Daisy?" Deadpool's gun was properly aimed at the other guy's head. If he answered any wrong question, You're going to shoot him right in the eye? Original "Yes, I'm going to shoot him right in the eye if he gets it wrong. No one asked you anyways," he sniped, making his presence known to the person hiding behind the crates.
"Never hurts to check. All kinds of people running around in costumes these days." Gael pulled out his own gun, slipping the safety off and readying it, and snuck around the back of the stack, trying to get a better angle. He snorted at the comment in a combination of derision and amusement; sounded like somebody had a bad habit of talking to himself. He could use that. "Word of advice: never helps if you tell a guy you're gonna shoot him in the eye. Tends to ruin the surprise."
If Deadpool wasn't insulted, he would have smiled at that comment. Then again, he was involuntarily smirking at the response nonetheless. "True, but I always did like a bit of candor when working with people. Anyways, you didn't answer my question." He stayed hidden, unsure of why the guy was so keen on bantering with him before they faced eye to eye. "And talking with myself is just awesome, for your information," he teased. "Now answer the question."
Gael frowned. What question? He hadn't asked one, how could he be expected to answer a question when- Oh. "Apple...something. Dunno, didn't realize there was gonna be a quiz after. Not that it matters a whole lot." After lining up a shot, he took it; nice clean one, right through the heart - head was more effective nine times out of ten, but he figured he'd take the mask as confirmation. It was a perfect shot, really...or would have been if he hadn't shifted at the last minute, sending it too wide. He leaned out of his hiding spot to confirm it, giving himself more of a profile (not the best idea maybe, but he wasn't really thinking about that) but wasn't surprised when his target was still standing. Damn.
Deadpool was about to congratulate the man for getting it right and now they could start business when a shot rang out near where he was standing. Rather than flinch and freak out, he merely laughed. "Ohhh, so it's like that huh?" he chuckled. He should have known that. After all, his visage was plastered everywhere like he was the notorious Lindsey Lohan, but with only slightly more people hating and wishing death upon him. He also could feel his other self rolling their eyes at his observation. "As my good buddy Ackbar once said, 'It's a trap!'" he called out, taunting the other man. Oh good, yes, let's make fun of the guy trying to kill you. "When are they not," he muttered before firing two shots at the area he guessed the other guy was standing.
The first fortunately missed, but the second grazed him as it passed, eliciting a spat curse and another few shots squeezed off in retaliation. This was not how this was supposed to go. "Perceptive fella aren't ya? Too bad you're gonna be a stiff when I'm through." He ducked back behind the crates, on the move again. There had to be a way to get around him, get in his blind spot...right? Though...there was always rushing, that'd probably work pretty well long as he wasn't expecting it. Yeah, that'd do it.
Pleased at getting the other guy somewhat on the mark, Deadpool laughed at his misfortune. "I bet this is because of my last couple of jobs isn't it? Shoot one guy in the head, everyone goes nuts." You're going to tell him the truth aren't you? "Well, someone should know before I get gutted like a fish." Your funeral. "You should know, whomever hired you isn't going to make things go away when I die," he called out. "I was hired to do the job. They're still out there, you know, where it's safe. But I'm guessing you don't give a shit, so here's the deal. You leave, and I don't kill you. How does that sound?"
And just what was that supposed to mean? This was a vengeance job, pure and simple. Kill the guy who'd killed the dead guy, fill whatever balance his employer had thought needed filling. This was as far as it went, if it ended up not fixing anything it had nothing to do with him, he just did his job. Unless he meant it went higher, was something bigger. But even then, so what? The criminal underworld was never easy, things didn't ever go away just because somebody died; there was always someone else to take their place. It was just the way it was, no matter where you went. "You're right, I don't; ain't my problem, you are. I leave, I don't get paid. Trust me, that was just a lucky shot." --------------------------------------------------------------------------
It wasn't that Deadpool wanted the hitman to change his mind on killing him. He just wanted the whomever he was answering for to know that it didn't start with him and it wasn't going to end by his death either. Even if the man didn't care, he made his point. That was all that was necessary. "Life's funny that way. Here's a better deal, because I'm in no mood to play games. I leave, you don't get hurt, everybody's happy. Well, I am anyways. Or we can duke it out and enjoy getting hurt to all hell, and you still won't kill me. What do you say?"
"You're pretty confident for a guy wearing red spandex," he drawled, smirking with all the arrogance of a man too used to his own success to accept an alternative. "Let's see how confident you are with a piece of lead between your eyes." He aimed again, leaning around the crates in an attempt to minimize his profile as he fired, to limited success. Like hell he was going to be taken out by a guy in a bodysuit.
Hissing as the shot grazed the point of his neck where his head and shoulder connected, Deadpool knelt behind a stack of crates as he tried not to let the other guy know he was close enough to making his last taunt come true. Deciding this was going to become a do or die situation, he didn't respond, kicking the pile of crates that appeared to be hiding the guy. Whether any actually knocked over or not was irrelevant, it was a distraction tactic as he ran to tackle the guy head on.
Gael grunted at the impact, arms going out to save whatever balance he could. Gravity, predictably, held greater sway however, particularly with the falling crates, and both went tumbling, guns clattering to the floor and spinning away in the process. It didn't stop Gael much, however, as he just switched to fists, trying to get a shot in at any available opening before kicking and shoving the other man clear and scrambling to his feet, trying to find whatever other weapon he had on his person.
While Deadpool was spot on in catching Gael, he made the mistake of losing the grip on his gun, faintly hearing it as the metal made contact with the ground and skidded away. Ah well, he was just going to have to deal with that as he took a knee to the stomach and a glancing blow to his face while he kicked and rolled backward away from the hitman, spinning to attempt to deliver a roundhouse kick to his chest. It was a large easy to see move, so Deadpool just hoped he could hit him.
And he did. Gael wasn't exactly nimble, or quick on his feet, so while he saw it coming he couldn't quite move in time to avoid it, although fortunately it did little more than make him stagger back a step or two. His lip curled in annoyance, a determined rictus spreading across his face as a growl escaped him, and he tugged his trusty knife free from its sheath before launching himself at Deadpool, aiming to gut him. Wasn't the cleanest kill maybe, but he'd found it effective on more than one occasion, and beggars couldn't be choosers.
Deadpool was pleased he hit his mark, but it was his own fault for not putting in the force needed to knock the guy down. It was also his own fault he didn't plan on Gael packing more than just heat while he himself lost his only weapon. Jumping backward, he kept his arms in front of his face, hands closed into fists. "Not really a fair fight now is it?" he called out as he did his best to dodge the attacks.
"When's this kinda job ever been about bein' fair?" he countered, lunging forward again, trying to get through his defenses. "Far as I'm concerned it's more about results."
"So what," Deadpool retorted, dodging his next attack while trying to find a way to get the knife out of his hand, "someone tell you to kill kids and you'd do it?"
Gael scoffed as he stepped inside the other man's guard, grabbing his shoulder to hold him in place in preparation of the latest attempt, in the process leaving himself open. "Said it ain't always fair, never said anything about not havin' standards. Who'd pay anybody to kill kids? That's just all kindsa wrong."
"Some people are assholes, that's who." Oh good, talk him to death, that'll solve everything. Ignoring his less than better half, Deadpool took the small window of opportunity Gael left him to block the knife with his left arm while delivering an uppercut to his chin. He just hoped it made its mark.
He reeled at the impact, head snapping back, and dropped the knife in surprise. It didn't last long, however; the adrenaline running through his system was enough to trigger his ability, and he cracked his neck as he felt the extra burst of energy flow into his muscles, eyes narrowing in determination. He rushed the other man, shoulder to sternum, not quite as much force as he could have used but still enough to bruise; based on experience it wouldn't last long, so he figured he might as well take advantage while he could.
Well crap. This guy was definitely a lot stronger than he looked, and Deadpool paid for it with his chest, feeling himself attempt to fly backwards at the impact. However, he was not going down easy, evident by his grabbing Gael's arms to stay upright. Stop playing nice, bitch. Inwardly groaning both at the comment and at the pain, he pulled Gael forward while delivering a swift knee to his groin.
Gael grunted, cocked a fist and punched reflexively before shoving him off, leaning forward until the ache dulled some, and shot Deadpool an accusing look. "Now who ain't fightin' fair? An' here I thought you were s'posed to be a professional."
He grinned even though Gael couldn't see. Coughing a couple of times from his sternum pain, Deadpool shot back with "No one's going to be professional in a game of 'Do or Die', apple pie. Speaking of which--" he cut himself off, pushing and knocking down a pile of crates to block Gael's way albeit temporarily. "I almost hope we run into each other again!" he cheerfully called out, scooping up his gun and running away toward the exit.
Gael scrambled over the boxes, cursing up a storm as they kept getting in his way, and grabbed his own gun on the way by, sending a few shots after him, none of which actually found their mark. He might have followed if he weren't so spent, but as it was he just stood there, glowering after the costumed mercenary. "Me too, if only so's we can finish what we started!"