1963-09-11 - Gun Crazy
Summary: What happens when two dangerous people decide to raid the same gun store at the same moment…
Related: None
Theme Song: None
wade domino 

Things haven't been working out all that great for the albino gal since making it out to the Big Apple. Next to no money, nowhere to call home (or at the very least a base of operations,) very little in the way of supplies, and she just handed off the very best weapon in her very limited arsenal to some psychic to try and figure out where the darned thing came from. This..is no way to live.

So, Domino does the math.

Finding a gun store within the state: Trivial.

Boosting a truck somewhere else within the state: Child's play.

Introducing the two at around twenty miles per hour: Instant stress relief.


In a heartbeat the store's alarm cries out with the sudden intrusion. It's quickly silenced by the snap of a tiny .32 ACP, as are two cameras before they get in her way. Glass and debris is still settling upon the displays, shelves, and floor as she leaves the truck idling and gets to work. She's earned this shopping excursion, dammitall.


So, Deadpool, this is your first foray into the RP Rooms of Marvel: 1963. How do you like it? "Ehhhhh. I've had better." Harsh. Anyway, Deadpool's stroll takes him down the street and in the general direction of the gun store that has just been completely demolished by a truck. He's managed to be whistling the entire time, despite the mask that he's using to hide his face. It's not until he comes up on the truck sticking out of the gun store. "Huh." Deadpool tilts his head as he peers at the truck and the store and then turns back to the wall that's not really there.

"Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo. It /is/ Christmas!" Deadpool hops up into the air and raises a fist. The heels of his boots click together and he drops back down to the ground just long enough for him to grab a hand basket and he skips his way into the gun store. "I love Black Friday. You can always find the best deals." And Deadpool, of course, has begun to go shopping.

He's also wearing more guns than he needs to shop for. That's interesting.


Two of these, a couple of these, one of those—

There's a voice coming from outside… No, scratch that. From -inside.- This is a problem all on its own, but when Domino sees who the voice belongs to there's an internal switch in her mind that immediately gets flicked. Strange guy in full body armor (presumably.) Lots of weapons already on his person. First, and damn fast at that, to respond to the break-in.

Either he's a hero, or he's just really, really unlucky.

From behind one of the counters a black and white (more the former than the latter) jumps up with a small Mauser held at arm's length, instinctively snapping a shot off right in the masked gunman's direction. She doesn't need distractions right now, thank you very much. On a bit of a timeframe, you see. Nothing personal!



Deadpool's leaning over to check out the price on a couple rounds of some awesome bullets that he's been trying to get his hands on for quite a while. "Oooooh. Pricey. Good thing there's a HOLE IN THE WALL Sale going on right now." Deadpool grins beneath his mask and starts scooping the boxes of bullets into his basket. "They really should have someone working the register at this time of day. I think I'm gonna' write a letter!" And that's when a MAUSERABLE bullet comes right through his shoulder and sends his body into a bit of a spin. He flails around, the boxes of bullets going into the air as he seems to be going towards the counter in slow motion. "HEAVENS TO MURGATROID!"

Deadpool drops across the counter and slides down, his hand in his own blood and dragging out the final line of the 'F' that he's chosen to write. "Hey! You probably don't know what this means but… You sank my battleship!" Deadpool is back up on his feet in a moment as the hole in his body seems to be sealing itself back up. He's got an Uzi in each hand and he's taking aim at, well, the store in general. "Me next!" He pulls back on the triggers and starts to let the bullets fly.

"Bang bang bang bang-bang bang bang!"


This was supposed to be simple. Why can nothing in Domino's life ever be simple..? This guy just keeps on talking, and saying some really weird things. It makes him a real easy target, she doesn't even need to see where she's sending the first bullet. That's when things go from 'weird' to 'fucking bizarre.'

She's still standing there, the literal smoking gun still held firm in her grasp as the masked figure comes back up. With a bloodied hole in his suit. And no hole in his shoulder.

Pale blue eyes widen, though just before she dives for cover something else catches her attention and nearly turns her whole world upside down.

-UZI.- TWO of them.

Before her brain can fully comprehend the significance she's sliding sideways across the floor, arms shielding her head as so many bullets shred the store all around her. "You were supposed to stay shot!"

'Dead' would have been better but it seems in her haste her aim with the small pistol had been slightly off.

The chiming of so many spend shell casings continues to drum out its irregular beat as she swipes a shotgun off of a nearby rack and a box of shells, ripping the top off and scattering them across the floor. A handful is all the gun will hold so a handful is all she gets, quickly loading them in.

"And where the -hell- did you get those automatics?!"


"FROM YO' MAMA!" Deadpool just keeps shooting until the Uzis are empty. He doesn't even know when that happens because he's too busy enjoying the carnage and the violence that's happening due to the fact that he's been shooting up a storm. He doesn't even know where his enemy of the moment is. Or if he does he doesn't seem to be giving it away that he does.

He's also not taking cover. At all.

"Hi." It maye be interesting to note that Deadpool is just popping up from over the shotgun counter. He's got an apron on and a nametag that says: 'Wade'. He's even wearing a cap that helps promote this gun store. "Kick ass parking job, I have to say. But you really need to work on your reloading time. You're taking way too long." Deadpool snatches up a shotgun and pumps it, loading in a few shells during Domino's loading time.

"I learned this in 'Nam. I wasn't there to kill people, mind you. I was on vacation." Deadpool grins beneath his mask and offers the speed loaded shotgun to Domino. "Here you go. Now shoot me." Deadpool backs up and puts his body into 'Innocent Bystander Pose #45'.


Granted, it isn't so easy to focus on loading up a bulky weapon with a handful of loose shells while lying on the floor trying to stay behind cover. It's made even more complicated by the sheer randomness of the other guy, both with words and actions. It's all just—


She's just racking the slide of her own shotgun with a menacing *chk-CHAK!* when suddenly the masked guy is -right freaking here- leaning over the counter. It's all she can do to push back and level the one shotgun at him while he grabs and loads up another.

Then -hands it to her.-

As it turns out, Domino can look more surprised. With hesitation, and one hand keeping -her- shotgun leveled at him, she then reaches out to take the other…

Then shoots him with both at point-blank range.

"I have -got- to be tripping bad…" she mutters to herself in a stupor. "No other way, this shit isn't real. You're just dreaming the whole damn thing, Domino."

Both of the shotguns are pressed stock-first to the floor then racked with one hand each, the empty hulls clicking against the debris-speckled tile floor as she readies both and slowly stands up to see the aftermath of two loads of buckshot at close range.

She isn't expecting it to be a pretty sight.


Shotguns. Point Blank Range. Uh, Wade? Do you realize what that's going to do to you? "Um. Wait!" Deadpool's teleporter kicks in and he disappears just before his body is rendered competely obliterated by the Twin Shotgun Attack!

When Wade reappears he's no longer wearing the Gun Store Uniform and he's sitting on another counter, legs crossed and swinging his feet. "Domino. Huh." He goes into one of his pouches and pulls out a little notebook. On the front of it are the words: 'Wade's Battle Journal'. "Don't shoot yet. I gotta' write this down." He's writing with a pencil with a pink fuzzy ball on the top.

Entry #69: Domino
Super Hot. Super Violent. Black & White Boobies. I think I'm in love.

With that done, Wade slams the book closed and tucks it back away into a different pouch than it started from. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were tryin' to kill me!" Deadpool hops off the counter and reaches back to grab his katanas. "Mother, May I Kill You Too?"

Deadpool brandishes those blades and leaps at Domino for some super slicing action!


(Yeah. Abso-fucking-lutely tripping.)

There should be a pile of bloodied meat on the floor and all manner of brain splinters painting the ceiling. Instead there's just lots of tiny little holes up there and some white particulate filtering down from the building's next major injuries. No body. Not even just half a body, there's really -no freaking body- there.

When the voice calls out from somewhere ELSE in the store Domino fails to completely stifle a yelp, one of the scatterguns clattering to the floor so she can reload the other. Finding him sitting there is easy enough, but when he tells her not to shoot she..actually stays her trigger finger.

"What the -Hell- is going on here…" she breathes out, her tone half serious and half pleading in nature.

(Heads up, girl!)

As the Mouthy Merc dive-bombs the soon-to-be Monochromatic Merc she swings the shotgun around to try and deflect the two swords, spinning back around to try and get a target, then nearly jumping again as both the wooden stock and several inches of the barrel simply fall to the ground, both cleanly severed.

On the upside the cuts aren't square, resulting in a shotgun with an angle-cut barrel. It's like a giant hypodermic needle. One which she promptly -throws at the man's chest- before turning and throwing herself over another display. Get to the counter! More Guns!!



Deadpool's screaming is cut off when he catches a Hypodermic Shotgun to the chest. It stabs right into him and he flails his katanas around, dropping down to his knees because there's a shotgun sticking out of his chest. He droops in both pain and depression because he really didn't want to have a shotgun speared into his chest today.

"What's going on? You shot me! I thought you knew!" Yeah, that's right, Wade is getting back to his feet and slowly puts those katanas away on his back. "Y'know, I'm sure this isn't going to be the last time I end up with a shotgun in my chest. But I want you to know that I love that you were my first." Wade is probably winking beneath that mask but it might be hard to tell. "Oooh. Hey, if I don't kill you in the next five minutes? Could you autograph this for me?" Wade points at the shotgun. "I think I'm gonna' start a collection."

While using his vocal distraction techniques, Wade uses the non-pointing hand to fling a grenade in Domino's direction. "Incoming!" No, you idiot, you don't tell her! "Shit! Nevermind! Outgoing!" Idiot.


She's starting to learn. Being able to adapt is important! The Project made sure she remembered that rule well. This time when the guy is flapping his unseen jaws Domino's back to work, plucking a nickel-plated 1911 from hiding and finding that this one's already loaded, kept for store defense. It's a convenient score.

"You woulda shot you, too!" she calls back in challenge. "Give me two minutes and I can get your collection off to a proper start."

Distractions. All that it is. White noise. Ignore it, tune it out. Pay attention to sounds and actions, not words. When the grenade comes flying her way the only response is the sudden appearance of a black denim and combat boot-adorned leg snapping out of hiding, striking the grenade mid-flight. Returning it to sender.

"Got it right the first time!" she yells back while flattening herself to the floor, covering her ears with the side of one shiny .45 and one open palm.

They'll -both- be lucky if there's anything left in the store worth taking by the time they run out of things to attack each other with!


Psst. Hey Wade. "Yeah?" WHy'd you catch that grenade? "Oh, /that's/ what that wa—"


The explosion sends Wade up and over the counter that's behind him. Not to mention there's the fact that blood is going everywhere now. Wade's body hits the floor on the other side of the counter and eventually, well, his arm comes dropping down near Domino.

"Hey! Since you're losing! I thought I'd give you a hand!" Deadpool's trying to save face as he's pretty much losing this foray into the battle of guns. He's only got one arm now. Not to mention that fire from the grenade explosion is still clinging to that side of his body.

Also, that shotgun in his chest has been blown out of him as well. It's a good bad day to be Deadpool.

"Listen. This is getting us nowhere! Wanna' call a truce and go do some acid? My treat?" Deadpool peeks up from behind the counter and looks around to see if he can spot the Domino.


There is no way, absolutely -no.- -Fucking.- -Way.- That someone could have survived a frag grenade at that range. Let alone while holding onto it!

And yet that crazy guy is still yelling at her from across the store.

Domino is looking at the guy's arm, his actual freaking arm, right there on the floor beside her. It's in this moment that she reaches the very same conclusion: This is getting them both nowhere. An unkillable person is like something out of her nightmares, she wants this perceived delusion to -end- and never return, though it's painfully clear that it isn't going away with bullets or explosions.

Swearing under her breath comes first. Second is the proverbial White Flag. Or in her case, the literal White Hand. "Yes to truce..no to acid," she cautiously calls back.

"Look. 'Wade?'" she half asks, recalling the nametag from before. Where'd he even get a nametag from, anyway? "I don't know what you're doing here but I came to resupply. Now I also want to know where you got those automatics from."

Speaking of, where did those run off to? If they're behind the counter then they're about to be -her- automatics. He's got swords and a healing factor turned up to eleven, he doesn't need 'em.

When she stands, looking a bit grossed out, she's got the 1911 in one hand and Deadpool's severed arm in the other. The latter gets flopped upon the counter with a wet, meaty slop and a fresh splatter of blood. "Also, you dropped this."


"Righty!" Deadpool snatches up his arm and gives it a wave. He holds it up to the flaming part of his body that's missing the arm and it takes a little while but it eventually starts to seal back together. Deadpool is happy as this happens and is moving his arm around in the most celebratory flailing style as possible. It's really all about the fact that he's got his arm back. "I missed you so much!" Wade takes the time out to hug his arm. Figure that one out.

"Oh. You're still here?" Wade talking directly to Domino's Cleavage because that's what he's focused on right now. He's kind of rude and objectifying like that. He can't help it. He's into everything and everyone. "Right. So. Automatics." Deadpool reaches up to tap his chin. "I'm not sure I follow. I don't even own a car. Although, that might not be a bad idea. I can smell it now. The Poolmobile."

Wade immediately starts to drift off towards the land of daydreams. He doesn't even realize he's got those uzis strapped to his body again. All holstered and secure. And unstealable. Hmph. "Nice one." Thanks.


(Oh..my..GOD that is disturbing as shit.)

Getting a chance to watch the healing up close and personal is ..enlightening. And disgusting. It's one of those things which doesn't seem like it belongs in reality. Heck, as far as Domino is concerned this -isn't- reality. The real world is taking a fifteen minute break. Seems to be happening more frequently, these days.

Noting where the masked man's attention is at the albino ever so carefully lifts Deadpool's head back up by way of pushing her shiny new 1911 against the bottom of his chin. "I do still have bullets in the mag, buster."

Well, that answers one question about the Uzis. Though 'unstealable' might be pushing it, given that he's mentally checking out again. She's got quick hands. The only problem is that if he objects she apparently can't kill him. So instead she uses her .45 once more, tapping the side of a holstered SMG. "-These.- You got them from somewhere. Where? Who?"

(You're losing time you don't have, Dom.)

Before she loses her temper she goes back to looting, focusing first on a back room since the main room's kinda sorta looking like a warzone right now. Gun stores always keep their best toys hidden away from sight of the common man, anyway.

Case in point: "Holy shit, that's a Boys Mark Two." Pause. "Mine now."

It's a good thing she brought a big truck!


"Ummmmmm. Don't remember? I've got a bunch of these." Deadpool shrugs and even gets more happy that he can shrug again. He really missed Righty and it's starting to show from the way he keeps that arm going and flailing every chance he gets. "I can get you some. But it's gonna' cost ya'." Deadpool realizes that they are looting things and moves to start throwing everything he can find in the back of the truck. There's even a moment or two of teleportation that he makes happen to make sure that truck gets filled with things.

"Oh oh! DIBS!" Deadpool points at the Boys Mark Two after he pops up behind Domino and points with RIGHTY! "You didn't call dibs! Haha! Loser!" And then he's gone again because that's just super annoying.

He lays on the horn from the inside of the truck. "Come on! Buy me tacos and I'll tell you everything I know about these automagics!"


This..this is where headaches are born. The fact that he's helping load up the truck, -Domino's- truck, full of weapons and ammo is both surprising and helpful, but it isn't free. It's slowly costing the albino her last few shreds of sanity.

"If you're in the arms trade then we need to talk. First we need to get this show on the road."

She's not letting him take the anti-tank rifle, either. She has plans for that monster. Now that there's necessary gear at hand she can start working on problem number 2: Cash flow. There's a lot of mob activity happening in the Kitchen these days, be a great time for someone with a little ambition to make a helluva lot of money overnight.

When the masked guy lays on the horn she flinches and grinds her teeth together. Tacos, seriously? With a frown that could cut steel she brings up the .45 and executes the register's lock on the front desk, emptying the remaining cash from the drawer within. Someone got really careless when they closed up for the night. Their loss is her gain!

"I'm driving on count of still having an active survival instinct."

It's gonna be one very long night.

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