I'm not in the bar any more, but I still smell vodka and sadness. Wade, Weasel, and a furry newcomer are arguing about something. Oh. Hmm. They're trying to figure out what to do with 'the body'. I taste blood on my tongue and hear hissing as I finally reach full consciousness. Itstops as I answer, "Chop the limbs into squares, burn them, grind the bones and then scatter the dust throughout the Hudson." By the time I finish speaking all heads have whipped around in surprise. The unknown person has been walking toward me like I'm some feral animal. He seems to let down his guard a bit after I speak though, they continue to analyze me. Possibly to determine if I am a threat.
The stranger is obviously well trained from their stance and over abundance of muscle. "Hmm.. You must be Logan. Or do you prefer Wolverine?" A piercing stare is the only response I get, but it's conformation enough. So this is Pool's 'involuntary-DNA-Donor-Dad' as he has referred to him. He certainly matches the description. Tall, hairy, as much muscle as Hugh Jackman,;) the overwhelming stench of alcohol and, and of course, the trademark metal claws. Literal claws of steel, or adamantium I guess. The low thrum from the back of my skull that has been here all week increases.
"You need to get checked out Bub."
"No."
"You were dead 7 minutes ago and spent 5 after that growling with glowing eyes and teeth sharp as my claws cat ears popping from your skull," he says frustration creeping into his voice.
"All the more reason to leave me alone," I reply curtly seeing how much longer I can annoy him for.
"I can't. Now come on, it's an hour away."
"No."
Eyebrows scrunching, the grizzly man exits with a frustrated sigh grumbling something about bald men in wheelchairs.
"Waaaaade. Your dad's nicer than mine."
"He's not my dad!", Wade pouted, the essence of teen annoyance.
"Weasel. My cash?"
"You were less annoying dead." Weasel leaves and returns with 7 full black duffel bags. Wade's eyebrows fly off his head jaw dropping, which is weird, he's still wearing his mask.
"Who'd you kill? A small army?"
"Nope, just baby killing cultists, rapists, serial killers, and I stealing art," I state.
"Make it hurt?"
Yup
Good
"Ciao," I yell starting to leave.
"Sure don't want anymore jobs? It'll be easy and worth it." Weasel cuts in.
"I'm good. I'm trying to have 'morals', apparently 'murder' is 'frowned upon' now. As a kid I was snapping necks and shooting by 5."
So, depositing two million four hundred thousand dollars in back payment was fun. I still had one duffel back but I took the cash and stashed it for emergencies. It took me two months and I had to go to 34 different banks every week. At least I won't have to deal with the IRS. I swear they hire telepaths or something.
A spider nocks on my window, ah yes. It's one of our training days. "Come in. And stop leaving scuff marks on the glass or use the key."
"We're gonna work on our Russian and Italian on patrol today. звучит хорошо да? это месть за что-то, но я не скажу вам, что, пока позже. Andiamo, ci sarà una sorpresa per te quando torneremo."
(sounds good huh? it's revenge for something, but I won't tell you what until later. Let's go, there will be a surprise for you when we get back.)
I zip tie the last two thieves as Peter goes to return the looted goods.
"Пора возвращаться домой. Отвечайте по-итальянски… Qualche altro crimine?" (It is almost time to go back home. Any more crime? Respond in Italian.)
"Tutto a posto. Penso di stare migliorando in questo." (Alright. I think I'm getting better at this.), Spidey replies and then looks like he's been shocked.
Before either of us can hear anything screams sounds in the distance. Welp. That answers that.
I look around for the extra burner phone I dropped on the ground earlier. That's a lot of gold feathers. What do they feed the pigeons here? I find the phone under a bunch of broken glass. Amateurs. I call the police and head off to join my friend.
"è fatto di elettricità?" (is he made of lightning?) *roughly, it doesn't exactly translate but. ~shrug~*
"определенно. Или хотя бы электричество" (definitely, or at least electricity)
"было бы смешно, если бы …" (wouldn't it be funny if…)
"Scommetto che si chiama.." (I bet his name is..)
"HEY MAX!" We both yell.
The call ends quickly in a fit of cackling. Peter's laughter is abruptly cut off as he quickly yells something to me. I register his words a second too late as electricity surges towards me and light clouds my vision. I'm never going back. I'm fine. I need to help Peter. They're not here. I'm fine. I'm out here in the middle of the street. For how long? Fighting a stupid guy, with a stupid name. Doing one of our monthly patrols. You already failed. No cage, no chair, no quinjets, no helicopters. No buildings. No failure. Except for you. Nope nope. We're good here. We're perfectly fine. Perfectly safe. You don't really believe that do you? How long before he dies too? Never again.
Electricity flows through my body leaving me twitching on the sidewalk as pain rips down my spine, shoulders, and fingertips. My jaw feels like it's being ripped in half as I taste metal and something bitter while blood begins to fill my mouth. A migraine forms in my head, pulsing along with my heartbeat. Peter runs over to check on me, the human battery of a villain aims at him, lightning leaving his body. Rage floods my senses as I lose consciousness.
The following events are viewed from the point of view of a previously barely present, analytical, weary, and somewhat unprepared third party.
When the professor said we were here to pick up a "volatile, dangerous, powerful, mutant girl" I didn't think we would be looking for one of New York's numerous vigilantes.
The girl in question, who for some reason chooses to go by "Crimson", is fighting some electricity based weirdo with bad style. Although, all of the villains the sometimes duo faces are ridiculous, weird, and have generally bad taste. According to the news, Spidey faced some godzilla in his first few weeks.
She gets hit by a stream of electricity from the villain they're now calling "Max", (these guys are really bad with names… and puns), and lands flat on her back twitching on the ground. Ouch. I run forward about to help out, but Scott holds an arm out silently telling me to stand back. I'm about to go anyway because "They obviously need help Scott!". His reply is cut off as the girl swiftly gets up and shoves Spider-Man away in the same movement. Something her shifts. Black cat ears pop out of her skull, nails sharpen at unnatural lengths. In the next moment more electricity strikes her in the chest. Three things happen.
Fangs, sharp and long stick out of her mouth as she roars.
Her eyes glow a mixture of green and electric blue.
And wings, wings, rip from her back, sharp shining and streaked with blood.
She launches at the electric man, wings flinging her forward. Clawed hands rip through the electricity crushing something inside, electricity flowing over both man disintegrates flowing into the ground and power lines. Seemingly unaffected this time, Crimson pulls her hand away and stalks back past her partner, only slowing to drop a small pile of metal into his hand and then head snapping in our direction. Her eyes lock onto mine, mouth moving as she begins to growl.