Deadpool story part 1 (takes place right after Deadpool #10)
Disclaimer: Okay, so this is my as-yet untitled Deadpool fanfiction. He never gets the girl, so I thought it would be cool if I introduced a new character that was more like him. I figured I’d also put a couple quick character sketches at the beginning because people who read these are generally familiar with the comics.
Deadpool: The merc with a mouth, the regeneratin’ degenerate, the crimson comedian. Basically, he had cancer, went to Weapon X to get cured, ended up with a healing factor that goes beyond Wolverine’s in that he can also reattach body parts and sometimes regenerate small bits like fingers. In the process, he became hideously scarred and wears a full-body suit to hide it. Oh yeah, and there are like 3 of him in his head. There’s Deadpool and then there’s the narrative boxes that pop up in two different types of font (which he is aware of, by the way. He is famous for breaking the fourth wall, meaning he knows he is in a comic book.). Hence the 3 types of font in my story. You can check out the wall photos on my Facebook for more Deadpool.
Pandora: She’s from bout 300 years from now, one of the many alternate realities in the X-Men universe. In her world, mutants are nearing extinction and are being genetically engineered by Weapon X so that they will survive. She has a mixture of Deadpool and Proteus’ DNA, so she can manipulate reality but she also has a crazy healing factor to keep her body from degenerating (that was always Proteus’ problem). Oh, and she doesn’t hear voices, but she sees Deadpool’s narrative boxes too. She came to the present to prevent mutants from being extinct. Don’t ask me how-I haven’t decided on that one fate-altering event yet.
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Pandora landed on the pavement with a thud and quickly scrambled to her feet. She scanned her surroundings anxiously, searching for something, anything, to tell her which reality she had been dropped into this time. The street was deserted. The midday sun burned ruthlessly above her head and she slipped out of her leather jacket as sweat began to bead on her forehead.
Scanning the nearest newspaper box, Pandora breathed a sigh of relief. May 16th, 2009. The X-Men were be in San Francisco, accepting victims of M-Day (mutant or otherwise), the Daily Bugle proclaimed. Great. All she had to do was cross the country with no money, contacts, or even an identity to speak of. Shouldn’t be any more difficult than the last seven times, she thought, with a wry grimace.
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Dude, Hawkeye/Bullseye totally kicked our ass.
That definitely did not go as well as we planned.
“We had a plan?” Wade Wilson, a.k.a Deadpool, conversed with his various personalities as he trudged down the street and rounded the corner.
If we did, we obviously need a better one, because that one was complete fail.
I agree. We need to--
Hey, are those half-price corn dogs?
How can you eat at a time like this?
What else do you expect me to do? All that ass-kicking made me hungry!
You mean, all that getting your ass handed to you has made you hungry.
“Would you guys shut up for a minute?” Deadpool barged into his internal conflict and pointed across the street. “Check her out!”
A young woman wearing a leather jacket and a black and dark red spandex suit was examining a newspaper. Her ragged violet hair fell into her eyes as she stripped off the jacket. Deadpool whistled.
“Yeah, baby, take it all off!”
The woman whirled around to face him, her eyes flashing.
“Shut the hell up or I’ll...I’ll...” she trailed off, her eyes widening in disbelief.
“Or you’ll what? Give me a time-out? Send me to bed early? Take away my ice cream?”
Dude, she is hot!
Hot enough to melt my ice cream, if you get my drift.
“That doesn’t even make sense!” Deadpool muttered as he strode across the street towards her. Her perfectly shaped lips had now formed an equally perfect “o” of surprise.
She’s obviously been taken off-guard by the power of our sexual aura.
‘Sexual aura’? Since when do we go in for that new age crap?
Since we met a hot girl who expresses an interest.
That doesn’t look like interest to me.
Well, she hasn’t run away screaming, and she doesn’t seem to be clinically insane. Doesn’t that count for something?
True. Never mind what I just said. She totally digs us.
“Shut up!” Deadpool shook his head and grinned at the woman. “The name’s-“
“Wade?”
Dude, she knows our name! Can you say ‘stalker’?
She took a furtive step towards him. “Wade Wilson? It is you, isn’t it?”
“Do we-I mean I-know you from somewhere?”
“No, but you will,” the woman replied. “Listen, I know we aren’t supposed to meet for another 300 years or so, but do you think you could help me get to San Francisco? Maybe the fact that we’re meeting now instead of later means that I’m in the right place.”
Deadpool stared at her.
“So... let me see if I’ve got this right here. You, previously just a random hot chick from across the street, are actually a hot chick from the future and believe that meeting me now means that you’re finally going to fulfil some important mission?”
She nodded.
“And you trust me solely on the basis that we’ve met before, except really that’s later because it’s the future for me but the past for you.”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
Sweet.
“Sweet!”
She broke out into a wide grin. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down. You never have before. I mean, you never will later, or something. Anyway, my name’s Pandora, but you always called me Pan for short. Or you will. Stupid verb tenses.”
“Sounds mischievous.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
Deadpool was about to respond when Norman Osborn’s team of vigilantes (ahem-heroes), the Dark Avengers, descended upon them.
“You’re coming with us,” Daken snarled, pointing on claw at Pandora as Venom and Bullseye advanced.
“Not again,” she sighed, feigning indifference as her eyes flitted angrily from face to face. Deadpool opened his mouth to make a comment, only to find that the ground was melting away beneath his feet. The surrounding buildings, too, seemed to be warping towards them, becoming viscous and malleable under Pandora’s gaze. The Dark Avengers seemed to lose any distinctive form and fell away around Pandora while she looked on in disdain. Deadpool shrugged in slow motion and allowed reality to slip from his grasp.
We never really had a lock on reality anyway.
True that. Guess we don’t need to play the hero if the damsel can hold her own.
Suddenly, a figure appeared behind Pandora and placed his bare hand on the back of her neck.
“They call me Morphine,” he said, smirking. “Can you guess why?”
Pandora slumped into his arms and he teleported both of them away, leaving reality to rediscover its original form on its own. The Avengers reassembled and made their exit, leaving Deadpool stunned and pinned under a pile of malformed rubble.