Deadpool |
|
Portrayed by Ryan Rodney Reynolds |
Statistics |
Full Name |
Wade Winston Wilson |
Age |
38 |
Height |
6'2" |
Build |
Athletic |
Eyes |
Hazel |
Hair |
Blond |
Factions |
None |
Occupation |
Mercenary |
Alignment |
Anti-Villain |
Claim to Fame
For some reason, everybody seems to know that my real name is Wade Wilson. But that's okay, I wasn't really protecting it. My name is Deadppol. Check out my movie on February 12, 2016.
Reputation
I'm known as the Regeneratin' Degenerate, the Crimson Comedian, and my favourite and yours, the Merc with a Mouth.
Biography
Wilson was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatsoever about that. Wade Wilson was as dead as a door-nail. But don't worry folks, my handy dandy heal- o-matic 2000 kicked in and brought me back to life. I woke up on a gurney in the Workshop. My life leading up to that point doesn't really matter. Okay, I was a typical youth, I came from a single parent home, but I can't remember whether I grew up with my mother, or my father. They're both dead now anyway.
When I was younger, I got in with a bad crowd, I robbed convenience stores, I stole cars, I dealt some drugs, and shot people, you know, just your average every day Canadian upbringing. That last part, about shooting people, was pretty cool. I liked to do it with style and panache, and pretty soon people started to take notice. They said things like, "hey, this kid's pretty good at shooting people, let's offer him some money to shoot people for us," and thus I became a mercenary because murder is fun, and getting paid for it is sweet!
I did the merc thing for a while, but then I got hired to clean out this shack full of mercenaries, and they so totally schooled me. I wasn't ready. They threw my body in the river, and I drifted down, as free as a log. I should have died then, but I didn't. That's not the thing I was talking about two paragraphs up. This one was different. I was pulled from the water by a this hippie, who was also called Wade Wilson, or was I the guy pulling him out, I forget. Anyway, someone got shot, and someone got pulled out of the water.
Did I mention that everything you've read might be a lie? No, well, okay then. Wade and his wife Mercedes took me in, instead of taking me to oh I don't know, a hospital. They nursed me back to health because they were hippies and they were teachers or something. So I killed Mercedes. But it was an accident. Wade, the other one, was none too pleased with my murdering of his wife, or my wife, again, there's some confusion about who's who, and I don't mean the Definitive Directory of the DC Universe. So I killed him too, or so I thought.
I had a thing for Mercedes, and would have really enjoyed showing it to her in that horizontal sweaty way, but I never got to. Instead, I put an axe in her. This messed me up. I'd always been a bit of a sociopath, I had gone to the meetings, and I swore that I could quit at any time. But this really threw me. So naturally I took Wade's name, one of us was named Wade T. Wilson, while I go by Wade Winston Wilson, or Jack… did I mention it gets confusing? Come on Marvel, sort it out already. I want to know who I am, or was, don't you?
From this point on I'm going to refer to myself as Wade, and if that other guy ever comes up, he'll be T-Ray, because Wade T. Wilson makes so much sense to be shortened to T-Ray, right? Whatever. After that ordeal, I decided to get out of Dodge, or wherever the hell I was, and moved to Washington, the city, not the state. I met this girl, she was unbelievably attractive, she put out on the first date, and for some reason, she liked me. That's three ol' big checks in my book. Her having sex with other guys for money and not giving a cut was a black mark, but we found a happy medium. She tried to stop me from killing for money and I tried to stop her from screwing people for money.
I liked her, and not just because she gave me happy endings for free. I really cared for her, so I dumped her. I figured she could do better than me. How bad is that? I had so little self-esteem that I thought a prostitute could do better than me. But I'm a killer. People around me tend to get hurt and I didn't want that to happen to Vanessa. Didn't I mention her name? Okay, there you have it. Her name was Vanessa and besides, she was too young for me.
When I got cancer, I left her for good. She cried, I bit my tongue, literally. I only got my taste buds back when I got a healing factor. I went home to Canada and signed up with some wacky Canadian super hero project. They promised to get rid of my cancer. I should have looked at the fine print. Oh, they got rid of the cancer. I'm still breathing, aren't I? But they did it by giving me a healing factor that now fights the cancer all day, every day.
Do you remember how I said that Wilson was dead? If you don't, then you really should see a doctor. I only said it like five minutes ago. Seriously, get yourself some help. So, I woke up on a gurney after having my heart ripped out of my chest. It was Weapon X's little way of testing to see if my healing factor worked. Nice guys, if I don't kill them the minute I lay eyes on them, we should do lunch, catch up, maybe go out for drinks, if I don't kill them.
I was what you call a reject, so they used me as their guinea pig, they would conduct experiments on me during the day, and let my healing factor knit me back together while they slept. I kept my sanity by talking to the guest in the next room, I mean cage, before he got lobotomised. In fact, I'm not even sure if he was real. It could have all been a product of my imagination.
I put the guy out of his misery, and brought some more onto me, because that's how I roll. I had to get out. But because I'm a nice guy, I freed the other human guinea pigs before I left. I took the name Deadpool, for the parimutuel betting that was going on among the staff on who would die first, second, third, and so on. You probably just learned a new word there. Isn't that fun?
After that, I returned to the safety and security of America because, Canada is just messed up. The drugs, the violence, the experimentation, this wasn't in the brochure. I needed to find a nice, little, quiet place where I could relax. So naturally, I got a scummy rat-infested apartment in New York City.
One day, I saw a robbery go wrong when I was looking out the window of my apartment. I didn't have a TV at the time and a man can only take so much Master-Rat Theatre. I decided then and there that I would become a criminal. I had a healing factor. I was pretty much invulnerable. I could take a licking and keep on ticking. That ought to be worth something to somebody, right?
I rose through the ranks pretty quickly, going from the rathouse to the penthouse in no time at all. I was even offered the chance to join the new Frightful Four. My first, last, and probably only outing with the FF was a total cluster fudge. Fudge? Sigh, if I'm going to swear, why not let me go for the good stuff? Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, I was chased by Angry Ben and ended up getting shot by some kid with my own ray gun. That was embarrassing.
After that, I decided that I needed a cool costume because costumed villainy is where it's at. I found this red and black number in a bargain bin of this costume shop. It kind of looked like a bad Spider-Man knockoff, but I liked it, and I figured that the crime lords might too. And they did. I got a shot.
Unfortunately, there was one position available and two of us were going for it. I still don't understand that. I mean, there's got to be something on the Evil Overlord list about not making qualified underlings fight each other. So I had the chance to win, and kill the other guy, but I have a conscience. So instead of killing that guy, I had to go save some people. Good for me.
So much for that gig. Yours truly was back to being a gentleman of leisure. I don't really know what that means, but I once heard an unemployed British guy refer to himself like that. I eventually got a job for some guy named Tolliver. He was from the future or something. I didn't really care as long as the money was good, and it was. While working for him I got to meet and fight some interesting mutants. That was a blast. I think I like those folks. I like them a lot. I wonder if they'd let me become a mutant if I worked really hard?
Of course, that was never going to happen. Work is hard. That's one of the many reasons I decided to became a mercenary. You know, for all the problems I've had, life has turned out pretty well for me. I'm alive when I shouldn't be. I've got money and a job I enjoy. That's more than most people can say.
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Character Details
A lot of people get me confused with an anti-hero, when I'm really more of an anti-villain. Deep down, I want to be good, but I find myself inexplicably drawn to evil. It pays better. You can see my dilemma. I have a conscience, but that doesn't make me a hero, even if Landau, Luckman, and Lake think it's my destiny to become a Guardian of Humanity. Every time I try and do good, it always seems to go wrong in spectacular ways. So I've kind of given up on that. As the Bad Guy Affirmation says, "I am bad, and that's good. I will never be good, and that's not bad. There's no one I'd rather be, than me."
After a lot of me time, I can say this much about myself. I am a complete and total sociopath. I kill people for money, and I don't see anything wrong with that. It's fun. You should try it… but, only in role-play. I like to choose my contracts. I'm happy to take dirty money, but only if it's the kind that washes clean, if you know what I mean. No skid marks for this mercenary. You know, I don't really like my line of work. I mean, I do, but, I know it's wrong. I'm supposed to think that, but I don't. And this kind of depresses me. It's a lot worse than I like to let one. There's something wrong with me.
But I make up for it with the funnies. Sure, I can be abrasive, annoying, or downright abusive, but it's all in good fun. Fun for me anyway. I'm always ready for a quick put-down or deadpan remark. Everyone knows that I'm joking. They think that I don't have a care in the world, but you know what, they're wrong. It's as much of a mask as the one covering my face. I use it to hide from the pain. I've got a dark side, and I hate when it shows it's ugly face. When it does show, I stop with the funnies, and most people find that pretty shocking. As long as I'm making with the wisecracks, you're all right. But when I shut up, that's when shit gets real. I'm not proud of that part of me, but sometimes I can't help it. I become a different person and he scares me.
Acrobatics |
Dead-Pool, Dead-Pool, does whatever a Dead-Pool can. Spins a tale, any size. Catches peeps, with his lies. Look out! Here comes the Dead-Pool! I'm not just a clever rip-off of Spider-Man. I try things that he'd never think of, like running my foot through own my hair. I might not have been bitten by a radioactive spider, but I act as if I was. If my body were any more limber, stuff would break off, and sometimes does, but my healing factor knits it back together. I'm what you'd call an Olympic level gymnast and I've got some mad parkour skills. You should see me freerunning. It's like a Bond film. |
Acting |
Having an image inducer would have helped, but I lost mine to an editorial decision. Still, appearance is only part of the disguise. If you want to do it right, you've got to commit to the little things, the mannerisms, the accents, and the details. With the right clothing, makeup, and props, I can hide in plain sight when I want to. With a little bit of research, I can even pretend to be real people. When I'm on top of my game, you've got to pay close attention to spot me. When I'm off my game, either because of a head injury, or I just don't make the effort, it's pretty obvious, but hilarious! |
Banter |
I'm either the funniest mercenary in the business, or the most deadly comic around. No one seems to know for sure. I use my rapier-like wit, style, and panache, as a defence mechanism. I just don't want to get hurt, not again, not like… I mean, it's a great offensive weapon. Some people aren't scared of my gunkata, or my mad ninja skills, but my banter gets them every time. My sense of humour is abrasive, sarcastic, and really freakin' annoying. This didn't come naturally. It took effort, dedication, and a lot of practice. |
Demolitions |
Step One: Address the building. "Hello, building. May I call you Rubble?" Step Two: Introduce the chemical explosives to Mr. Rubble. "How do you do?" Step Three: With finger extended like so, engage timer and run like heck! When it comes to blowing stuff up, I'm your merc. I love a good explosion and I'm familiar with all the latest innovations… oh, who am I kidding? If you supply the target, and the money, can't forget that, I'll supply the boom! |
Espionage |
Someday, I'm going to put those spy skills I learned while serving my country to good use. I'm what you call a trained infiltrator. I can get in, get the job done, and get out. I can make plans, good plans, smart ones that are carefully laid out. The kind that have blueprints and models. But then I get bored. I probably could keep a lid on it, and you know, be stealthy, but where's the fun in that? I'll do the work, but only to set up the big finish. |
Fisticuffs |
While my aim might not be perfect, I make up for it with the nitty-gritty. I'm an exceptional close in fighter. I love a good donnybrook. I can go ten rounds with anybody. Sure, by the tenth round I might not be able to lift my arm if not for my healing factor, but I'd make it to the tenth round. I might not win, I might get my butt kicked ten ways to Sunday, but I won't embarrass myself, at least not too much. My technique is anything but predictable. |
Healing Factor |
When I found out about the cancer, I signed up with the Weapon Plus program. They promised to cure me. What did I have to lose? I was a dead man anyway. So they gave me a healing factor. I still have the cancer, but it's in check. I'm not dead yet, so that's a big plus in my book. The problem is my healing swings wildly. Some days I can have my heart ripped out and be fine not five minutes later. Other days it'll take me a while to re-grow a finger. I've been told that it's tied to my mental health. The more I use it, the crazier I become. That's probably a scurrilous lie. Um, what does scurrilous mean? |
Immunities |
A healing factor isn't all it's cracked up to be. Sure, you're not going to poison me with the stuff in that needle, I can pet the pretty snakes, soft spiders, and lick toads, but recreational drugs don't work on me. I could pop oxycontin like Tic Tacs and barely get a buzz, and I drink beer by the keg. |
Linguistics |
Being English Canadian, I can speak English, and claim to speak French. I know words like poutine, tuque, and that Superman wears his bobette over his clothes. On my travels, I picked up some German, Japanese, and Spanish too. |
Mental Health |
I'm the product of a fragmented, MuchMusic, rap video, culture. Act now while supplies last. Everything must go! I'm a little hazy on it, but I think I served in Kosovo, Afghanistan, Haiti, and Iraq. And I have cancer. That's no recipe for a stable mind. It needs more sugar. I had stress, but it didn't agree with me. It gave me heartburn. So I don't feel it anymore. Most people, normal people, go to that happy place in their mind when they need to get away. I've picked out curtains. Between the caner and the healing factor, my mind has been torn down and rebuilt so many times that I'm a licensed contractor, or I should be. You just can't fight city hall, even when it's run by Rob Ford. Boy do I love that guy. Thanks to all the reconstruction, it helps keep out those pesky telepaths too. They like minds to be Connect the Dots, 1 leads to 2, leads to 3. Mine's more like 1 leads to 17, leads to 6. |
Physical Fitness |
If you take away all of the cool gadgets, swords, guns, neat healing factor, and my charm, I'll cry. But that's beside the point. Without it all, I'm just a guy, trying to earn and honest month's pay for an honest day's work. I can't read minds, I'm not super strong, or fast, or able to fly. I just have myself; unless you count the sock puppet of lo… ignore that. Ahem. I'm in top physical condition, and my healing factor lets me stay that way. If fancy schmancy techniques weren't so important, I could've been a contender. |
Rochambeau |
Rochambeau is a game. First, you kick the other guy in the nuts as hard as you can. Then, they kick you in the nuts as hard as they can. Repeat until one of you can't take it anymore. I'm really, really good at Rochambeau. |
Sharpshooter |
Why does it always have to be marksmanship? Why isn't it markswomanship? I know plenty of women who can shoot, and if not for the healing factor, I'd have the bullet holes to prove it. So I'm going to go with sharpshooter. I think I'm a really good shot, and I'm a quick learner when it comes to new toys. I don't usually have the time to line up a shot in the heat of battle, but I double my chances by putting a gun in each hand. I learned pretty quickly that if you send enough bullets in the general direction of your target, sooner or later, they're going to go down. And it's worked so far. |
Streetwise |
Dick Tracy liked to say that crime doesn't pay, but what did he know? He was a comic strip character… point taken. But even if that's true, I've spent enough time on the wrong side of the law to spot the criminal element. I can pick out drug dealers, gun runners, thieves, mercs, and other fun people. |
Technology |
Maybe I'm an idiot savant, or maybe I'm smarter than the average merc, but I can repair small problems with the techno-do-hickies that Weasel makes for me. I can disable security systems. I wouldn't call myself a hacker, I have an image to maintain, but I'm smarter than your average computer nerd. |
Weapons Master |
Put any gun in my hands, a handgun, an assault rifle, or a fully loaded laser-guided rocket launcher, and I'll figure it out pretty fast. Or I can go medieval on you with sais, shuirkens, daggers, staffs, and all kinds of katanas, oh boy do I love my katanas. I don't know about every weapon, but it's a dream of mine. Someday, I'm going to kill somebody with a hook sword, just as soon as I can get one, and figure out which end is the business end. |
Blind Al |
Althea and I have a complicated relationship. I call her Blind Al. She prefers Blind Alfred. She's ex-British Intelligence and lives with me in the Deadhut. Her birthday's coming up, she's probably getting close to a hundred years old now. Does Hallmark make a birthday card for your prisoner / friend / housekeeper / Greek Chorus / mother figure? Well, they should. I need one! |
Bob Agent Of Hydra |
Bob was an Agent of HYDRA and before I liberated him, he says kidnapped, he wrote a blog about his experiences. He's my number one fan. He's also my second through five thousandth fan. I had to pad the numbers somehow. Some days I treat him like he's my best friend, other days I treat him like a beloved pet. I'm not sure if he can tell the difference, but he's nice. |
Casa Del Pulpo |
For the princely sum of twenty-two thousand dollars a month, I get to live in one of the coolest places in all of New York — one of Doctor Octopus's old bases. At least I think it was one of his bases. The giant freakin' statue of him was a big clue, but that might have just been put there to jack up the price. It's got an automated coat rack, a private study, a fully stocked laboratory, a garage with multiple hidden exits around the city, a torture chamber, a bowling alley, a kitchen with a hidden weapons cache, a home theatre, three bedrooms with motion-activated, voice controlled, zero- tolerance, laser-net security systems, and best of all, cushy toilet seats! |
Costume |
My costumes aren't much to speak of. They're not made from unstable molecules. They're not even bullet proof, not even a little bit. But they're comfortable and I look good wearing them. Because they don't stand up to the wear-and-tear lifestyle of the merc on the go, I have to buy them in bulk. |
Deadhut |
The Deadhut is what I call my house in Metropolis. Because Blind Alfred doesn't see too well, I had Weasel install a voice activated holoden that makes it look neat and tidy. It's cheaper than hiring a maid, but barely. I should get Weasel to make me some of those solar panels I keep hearing about. |
Fourth Wall |
If you haven't figured out that I know I'm a MUX Character by now, then you have what I like to call a learning disability. It's okay, the 6th Age of Heroism takes all kinds, even people who think this place is still called CoMUX. But just because I know I'm a MUX Character doesn't mean I have to beat you over the head with it. It's a lot more fun when it's a subtle wink. I should probably clarify that it wasn't very fun to write this application. |
Gambit Roulette |
This trope is still called Gambit Roulette? Guys, I thought we settled this? It really should be Deadpool Roulette, but whatever you call it, I'm a master of the convoluted plans that seem to rely on random chance, but invariably come off without a hitch. My plans should never work out, except that more often than not, they do. Sometimes, I even surprise myself, isn't that cool? |
Intermission |
Oh, there's no advantage here. But you've been so good at reading that I thought you deserved a break. Have a Kit Kat. You should also copy and paste this link into your browser: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SKdlQRNYuJw Wasn't that fun? But, now we return you to your regularly scheduled sheet. |
Landau Luckman And Lake |
As a law firm, Landau, Luckman, and Lake typically defends unscrupulous and detestable clients, which includes stalkers, mobsters, murderers, corrupt politicians, and pretty much any other bad guy who can afford their services. They have real estate, entertainment, science, research and intelligence, and even a precognitive division. They think it's my destiny to become a Guardian of Humanity and they seek to expedite the apocalypse. Sure they're batshit crazy, but I just couldn't say no that kind of health and dental coverage. |
Magic Satchel |
I found this cool satchel in my backyard. I think it's magic or <insert technobabble here> I use it to store weapons, ammo, and some other goodies. |
Scooter |
Vespa is not just a scooter, it's a way of life. It says so right on the brochure. Even though I've got a teleportation belt, I love getting around the city on my kickass moped. I've gotten that baby up to 58 miles per hour. Thirty more, and a flux capacitor, and I'll be going back to the future! |
Teleportation Belt |
Everybody should have one, they're ever so much fun! I use mine to teleport myself out of, and occasionally into, dangerous situations. I also use it to get from the couch to the fridge. I wonder if it's better for the environment than using a car? It probably is. I bet it is. Hey Weasel? I got a question! |
Wealth |
I work hard for the money, so hard for it honey, I works hard for the money, and you better treat me riiiiight! I'm a working man. I don't have a trust fund, I wasn't raised in a mansion by some wheelchair-bound Englishman, and my dad didn't leave me a crystal castle. I'm just a regular Joe, and knowing is half the battle. I have to work or it's no new Christmas toys for Widdle Wade. If I've got to go crawling through a sewer to get a piece of some reptile for an eccentric billionaire, I will. If I have to crash a party in Berlin, then ich bin ein Berliner. Come on, baby needs a new pair of shoes. |
Weaponry |
I like guns, I like grenades, I like sais, knives, and katanas. If I'm not using a gun or something sharp, there's probably something wrong with me. Better make that something else that's wrong with me. The ones that aren't strapped to my back, belt, thigh, or boots, are stored in my magic satchel. |
Weasel |
My buddy, mi compadre, Weasel is a friend, kind of a sidekick, he supplies me with information, and all those wonderful toys. He's probably my best friend, and that's not just because his real name is Jack Hammer. He's not really all there, you know, in the head, so I try to set a good example for him. He's learning. Once he tried to betray me. I was so proud of him, and so angry with him too. That was fun. It didn't work, but I still took him back anyway. |
Cancer |
I have cancer and I'm alive. I should count my blessings. But the cure was almost as bad as the disease. My healing factor's waging a constant battle to keep the cancer in check. Sometimes it does all right, and I almost look normal. But other times it leaves me looking like a freak show. I'm pretty sensitive about it. That's why I wear the mask. The people who see me without one have a nasty habit of getting hurt, badly hurt, once I've covered up. |
Enemies |
It's not easy being me. Everyone wants a piece, and there's not enough to go around. The queue starts with T-Ray, and it stretches… wow, that's far. Quick, somebody call Guinness, I'm thirsty and I think we've got a new world record. Do they even make that book anymore? Come on guys, it's time to go digital. But there's a lot of people who would like to nail yours truly to the wall. Some are good people, some are not so good, but they all want me. |
Identity |
You might have noticed how often people set public identity or secret identity as a flaw, but I can't do that. Everybody knows that I'm Wade Wilson, so I kind of have that whole public identity problem. But here's the catch. I'm not even sure if Wade Wilson is my real name. I think that's why T-Ray hates me so much. He's not sure either. Last I heard, I'm Wade Winston Wilson, and he's Wade T. Wilson. But nobody seems to know what the T stands for. If you're confused, don't worry, I'm sure that'll be retconned soon. |
Mental Health |
There was a time when I thought that sanity was an either or. You're sane, or you're not. But then I discovered that there's not just a grey area between them, but a whole rainbow of colours, and it's colours, not colors, colours, got it? Now that we've got that cleared up, where was I? Oh yeah, I may seem cartoonish or childlike, but I'm not so bad. When I do bad things to good people, it's not out of malice, and sometimes it's unintentional. The rest of the time it's because I was paid well. So what I'm trying to say here is that my sanity hangs by a thread. I could go twenty years and never see it break, or it could snap tomorrow. Isn't that fun? May you live in interesting times. |
Mercenary |
It's a dirty job, but somebody has to do it. I'm a mercenary, the one with the mouth, though most mercenaries do in fact have mouths, I'm kind of famous for mine. I make a living by killing people, though not all my contracts involve death. Sometimes I'm asked to steal, and once, I was hired to do a kid's birthday party. Even I thought that was messed up, but a job is a job. |
Mouthy |
My most lethal weapon is my mouth, but it can be just as bad for me as it is for all of you. I never shut up. I'll just talk nonsense until you surrender, or commit suicide. I'll make fun of anyone or anything, fat things, skinny things, things that grow on rocks, tough things, sissy things, even things with chicken pox, love Deadpool, the Amazing Deadpool, the merc you want to hire! What was I talking about again? Oh yeah, how mouthy I am. Everyone's fair game for the merc with the mouth. No one's safe, not even me. I'll take every avenue to ridicule someone, and I know these streets like the back of my hand. Did I always have six fingers? One, two, three, four, five, six, ok. |
Reputation |
My reputation precedes me. People I've never met know me by my costume, my can do attitude, and my real name. I'm still not sure how they know, but I've given up trying to figure that one out. It's not like I make a habit of introducing myself as Wade Wilson. Before we meet, you probably know that I'm a mercenary, a criminal, and that I kill people for money. But I've got it covered. I hired Ratbag to be my personal biographer, so he'll sort it out. |
Sociopathic |
Most sociopaths live fairly ordinary lives. They try to hide it, but I don't. I embrace it. I act out all the time. I kill people for money. I do what I want, when I want, and I don't care who knows it. I have a violent streak, but don't hold that against me. Hi diddly dee, a bad boys life for me. |
T-ray |
T-Ray is a large, and I do mean large, albino redhead, who wears a band-aid on his nose. I think he originally put it there to keep his nose from falling off, but I have no idea why he kept it after his healing factor reattached his nose. He hates me because I registered the domain names for every variation of Wade Wilson I could think of. I may have killed his wife. |
Weapon Plus |
You've got to hand it to that wacky Canadian super hero project, preferably something in the small explosive range. I actually volunteered for the Weapon Plus program. How stupid was that? They put me in Weapon X, but not the cool Weapon X, I had to settle for being part of the second instalment. Nobody remembers the second instalment. If not for me, Kyle Gibney would have been the cool guy in the second instalment. Yeah, think about that for a minute. Anyway, their five year reunion is coming up, and I really don't plan on attending. If they phone, I'm getting Consuela from Family Guy to answer it. |
Women |
I have a way with women. I can look across a crowded room and pick out the one I could have the most dysfunctional relationship imaginable with. My relationships are pretty destructive, and to top it all off, I'm usually too lazy or too tired to end it properly. They have a habit of coming back to bite me in the behind at the worst possible time. When I do find someone who's good for me, her friends think I'm bad for her, and they're right. |
Workshop |
Don't, just don't mention the Workshop. It was possibly the most traumatic experience of my entire life, and I've had my share of those. Even mentioning it can be enough to set me off. It also shuts me up, so it's a good thing that there aren't many people who know about it. Mention it at your own risk. |
Relationships
Image |
Real Name |
Code Name |
Relation |
Notes |
 |
Terry Cassidy |
Siryn |
Friend |
Theresa Maeve Rourke Cassidy, oh boy, getting out of breath here, and I thought the Latinos had long names. Terry holds a special place in my heart. She makes me want to be a better person. I'm trying, but I don't know if it'll ever be enough. Siryn can do so much better than me, and she should. |
Notes
<This section is optional. You can delete it.>
Character Gallery
Logs
The Floating Arm
December 09, 2014: Deadpool pays a visit to Roxxon Oil in Gotham and is foiled by Oracles team on the ground…
(log: 20141209-thefloatingarm | tags: deadpool gotham lady_blackhawk misfit oracle rowan | posted: 10 Dec 2014 09:55)
Deadpool and the Angry Giant
November 05 2014: Fenris, Constantine and Melinda May are all drawn to the scene of an incipient disaster… named Deadpool
(log: 20141105-deadpool-and-the-angry-giant | tags: constantine deadpool fenris k'nert the_cavalry | posted: 06 Nov 2014 08:16)
Gotham Bank Job
November 3, 2014: Gotham Bank is attacked and Deadpool, Rowan and Oracle work together, sort of.
(log: 20141103-gothambankjob | tags: deadpool gotham oracle rowan | posted: 04 Nov 2014 22:04)
Persons of Interest
September 02, 2014: It's just another random collision of good guys and bad guys somewhere within the city. (Language, some violence)
(log: 20140902-persons-of-interest | tags: deadpool loki maria_hill nyc shield thor | posted: 02 Sep 2014 22:32)
The Process of Elimination
August 18, 2014: There's a hit out on Hawkeye. Two mercs enter. One merc leaves. The other leaves a little later. (Language and violence.)
(log: 20140818-the-process-of-elimination | tags: deadpool domino hawkeye nyc | posted: 18 Aug 2014 19:26)
Sawbone Shenanigans
August 18, 2014: The hit on Hawkeye may be over but the evening's not yet through for Deadpool and Domino. (Language.)
(log: 20140818-sawbone-shenanigans | tags: deadpool domino nyc | posted: 18 Aug 2014 23:05)
Back in the Game
August 15, 2014: Deadpool decides to drop in on Domino. What a dolt. (Language/violence warning.)
(log: 20140815-back-in-the-game | tags: deadpool domino nyc | posted: 15 Aug 2014 19:50)
The Avenging Son: Namor Attacks!
August 14, 2014: King Namor makes his proclamation - humanity keep out of the oceans! And he plans to show what happens when humans trespass!
(log: 20140814-the-avenging-son:namor-attacks | tags: cannonball captain_america deadpool gravity_kid hawkeye iron_man maria_hill namor wonder_man | posted: 15 Aug 2014 06:16)
Artifacts of Society
August 13, 2014: Because mercs have feelings, too. (Language and adult humor)
(log: 20140813-artifacts-of-society | tags: deadpool domino | posted: 14 Aug 2014 00:48)
The Ghostly Ghoblin Strikes Again!
August 4, 2014: The Ghostly Ghoblin has a beef to pick with the manager. Will he get to say his piece? Continue and find out.
(log: 20140804-the-ghostly-ghoblin-strikes-again | tags: deadpool ghostly_ghoblin-npc human_torch new_warriors stargirl taskmaster tempest | posted: 04 Aug 2014 21:10)
Choco Taco
July 23, 2014: This time, Deadpool was appeased with ice cream tacos. But next time there will be muchly violence. Featuring Barry Allen and a cameo by X-23.
(log: 20140723-choco-taco | tags: deadpool flash x-23 | posted: 23 Jul 2014 19:24)
Ten Tons of Trucking Trouble
June 05, 2014: A stolen semi becomes a mobile battleground. Briefly. (Language warning.)
(log: 20140605-ten-tons-of-trucking-trouble | tags: cable deadpool domino | posted: 06 Jun 2014 14:57)
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