25 Unicorn Street, Friday Afternoon
Apr. 13th, 2007 03:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mouthy_mercWade wasn't hiding in his room. Of course not. This was just... a strategic retreat.
From everything.
Shut up.
Nightmares woke him up early enough this morning that it should have been considered late last night instead. Not the normal 'No Barbie! Don't do that to poor Mr. Potato Head, you naughty naughty girl!', more along the lines of The Shop, never talking about, no way no how.
(...not real, not real, not real, not real...)
Maybe if he ignored Rosette long enough, she'd forget about him. That could work, right?
(Right.)
He wanted to go on a job. Take the most ruthless, dirty, dangerous job he could and just go blank. Back to the witty pop culture references and mindless splatter. Wouldn't be hard. The whole trying to kill Nate again thing and embarrassing the government had probably blown over after Captain America's death. He could call Weasel up to find a job. No questions asked. No one thinking that he was there to protect them from magic boyfriends or be a nice guy.
The phone was right there. Be easy.
(Just pick up the phone you pansy. Come on. All the killing you could ever wa~ant.)
It was like putting a pack of cigarettes next to someone who just gave them up. Tempting, but you knew it would just start that stupid cycle all over again.
He could try it again. This going straight bit.
Did it for Theresa.
(And where did that get you?)
Did it for Nate.
(Same song, different verse!)
He brought his knees up to his chest and just looked at the phone. He wasn't going to call. He wasn't.
(Chicken! Buckkaw! Geeze, look at you. Might as well throw on some eyeliner steal a pair of Yuki's girly ass pants.)
It all made a guy long for a nice bullet through his brain to make it just SHUT UP.
[[ooc: open if the roomies want to poke him or in the off chance anyone would bother him at home]]
From everything.
Shut up.
Nightmares woke him up early enough this morning that it should have been considered late last night instead. Not the normal 'No Barbie! Don't do that to poor Mr. Potato Head, you naughty naughty girl!', more along the lines of The Shop, never talking about, no way no how.
(...not real, not real, not real, not real...)
Maybe if he ignored Rosette long enough, she'd forget about him. That could work, right?
(Right.)
He wanted to go on a job. Take the most ruthless, dirty, dangerous job he could and just go blank. Back to the witty pop culture references and mindless splatter. Wouldn't be hard. The whole trying to kill Nate again thing and embarrassing the government had probably blown over after Captain America's death. He could call Weasel up to find a job. No questions asked. No one thinking that he was there to protect them from magic boyfriends or be a nice guy.
The phone was right there. Be easy.
(Just pick up the phone you pansy. Come on. All the killing you could ever wa~ant.)
It was like putting a pack of cigarettes next to someone who just gave them up. Tempting, but you knew it would just start that stupid cycle all over again.
He could try it again. This going straight bit.
Did it for Theresa.
(And where did that get you?)
Did it for Nate.
(Same song, different verse!)
He brought his knees up to his chest and just looked at the phone. He wasn't going to call. He wasn't.
(Chicken! Buckkaw! Geeze, look at you. Might as well throw on some eyeliner steal a pair of Yuki's girly ass pants.)
It all made a guy long for a nice bullet through his brain to make it just SHUT UP.
[[ooc: open if the roomies want to poke him or in the off chance anyone would bother him at home]]
