(no subject)
What is the biggest lie you ever told? What were the consequences?
When I walked away from Kitty the first time, Meggan came to me. She tried t' make me stop, tried t' make me go back, to see what I was givin' up. To see how much of a bloody moron I was bein'. I told her I didn't feel. Anything at all.
An' then I cried m' fool eyes out the moment I was on that ferry alone.
I walked alone after that, till X-Force decided they needed my help. Then, I told another lie. Not a lie that actually passed my lips in words, mind you. I knew that Sam and the others would never try to stand alone with me alive...so I made m'self not alive, to them at least.
Alone.
Y'know, I've bloody well grown to loathe that word. Any chance I could get it stricken from Webster's?
Describe the best 24 hours you ever had
Me, Kitty, and two bottles of whisky. And her feet were warm for once.
And yes, that's all you get. The details are mine, and mine alone.
Well, mine and the videocamera's.
Who would you like to see get their final comeuppance? Who is it and just what would you do with them?
"How'd you get in here, bastard?"
"Take another step, Threadgold, and I'll have you barbecued before you hit the floor. You don't want to test me on this, old son."
He holds his hands up defensively. I know damned well he's got a Ruger up the sleeve in a spring-clip. Always wears it. I'd bet he wears it in the shower, paranoid twat.
"You kill me, Wisdom, and we'll have your wife. Scicluna will dissect your child herself."
Before I know it, I'm hitting him with the chair, again and again, until I hear a wet, crispy crack. The blood soaks the carpet, my gloves, my lapels...all of it.
"Listen well, sunshine," I hiss. "Kit's off-limits. You even speak about her and my son again, and I'll mail your man-parts to your son, the gay one in Luton." He opens his mouth to talk, maybe to cry for help, I dunno, and I silence him with a flicker of heat in my eyes, and at the tips of my fingers.
"I won't kill you, Threadgold. Killing's too easy for the likes of you and that bitch Scicluna. I'd be happy t' do it anyway, just to know you'd never touch me and mine, but it's not her way, you understand? We'll find another way. If this warning doesn't work, maybe I'll just sic the godparents on you, and we'll find out how good you dance with a lightning bolt shoved up your backside. Hell, she might be able to manage a micromonsoon in your sinus cavity. Drown you in about a picosecond. Think about it, Threadgold. Please...give me an excuse to have you killed. It'd make my bleeding year."
He says nothing, to his credit. I never questioned his impulse for self-preservation. He lets me rant, pushing hate and venom out of his eyes that would overload me if I was just a telepath.
No. My gift is in other places.
On the way out, I let the hotknives go, and I blow up his stupid Porsche Spider.
We take our shots where we can.
What do you have to be thankful for?
Easy. Wife, child, home and hearth. Everything I never thought I'd have.
Sum it all up in one word?
I'm thankful for family.
When I walked away from Kitty the first time, Meggan came to me. She tried t' make me stop, tried t' make me go back, to see what I was givin' up. To see how much of a bloody moron I was bein'. I told her I didn't feel. Anything at all.
An' then I cried m' fool eyes out the moment I was on that ferry alone.
I walked alone after that, till X-Force decided they needed my help. Then, I told another lie. Not a lie that actually passed my lips in words, mind you. I knew that Sam and the others would never try to stand alone with me alive...so I made m'self not alive, to them at least.
Alone.
Y'know, I've bloody well grown to loathe that word. Any chance I could get it stricken from Webster's?
Describe the best 24 hours you ever had
Me, Kitty, and two bottles of whisky. And her feet were warm for once.
And yes, that's all you get. The details are mine, and mine alone.
Well, mine and the videocamera's.
Who would you like to see get their final comeuppance? Who is it and just what would you do with them?
"How'd you get in here, bastard?"
"Take another step, Threadgold, and I'll have you barbecued before you hit the floor. You don't want to test me on this, old son."
He holds his hands up defensively. I know damned well he's got a Ruger up the sleeve in a spring-clip. Always wears it. I'd bet he wears it in the shower, paranoid twat.
"You kill me, Wisdom, and we'll have your wife. Scicluna will dissect your child herself."
Before I know it, I'm hitting him with the chair, again and again, until I hear a wet, crispy crack. The blood soaks the carpet, my gloves, my lapels...all of it.
"Listen well, sunshine," I hiss. "Kit's off-limits. You even speak about her and my son again, and I'll mail your man-parts to your son, the gay one in Luton." He opens his mouth to talk, maybe to cry for help, I dunno, and I silence him with a flicker of heat in my eyes, and at the tips of my fingers.
"I won't kill you, Threadgold. Killing's too easy for the likes of you and that bitch Scicluna. I'd be happy t' do it anyway, just to know you'd never touch me and mine, but it's not her way, you understand? We'll find another way. If this warning doesn't work, maybe I'll just sic the godparents on you, and we'll find out how good you dance with a lightning bolt shoved up your backside. Hell, she might be able to manage a micromonsoon in your sinus cavity. Drown you in about a picosecond. Think about it, Threadgold. Please...give me an excuse to have you killed. It'd make my bleeding year."
He says nothing, to his credit. I never questioned his impulse for self-preservation. He lets me rant, pushing hate and venom out of his eyes that would overload me if I was just a telepath.
No. My gift is in other places.
On the way out, I let the hotknives go, and I blow up his stupid Porsche Spider.
We take our shots where we can.
What do you have to be thankful for?
Easy. Wife, child, home and hearth. Everything I never thought I'd have.
Sum it all up in one word?
I'm thankful for family.