Doug and Marie-Ange (backdated) - Mercy
Jan. 25th, 2024 06:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsDoug brings tacos so that he and Marie-Ange can talk about the situation with Wade after him showing up in the events of Behold a Pale Horse.
For once, it was Doug waiting for Marie-Ange in the solarium. Knowing that she tended to spend time there (based on weather, time of week, and so on) he was sitting in one of the chairs with a very large bag of tacos next to him. He was fidgeting with his phone as he waited, but looked up when she came in.
"No. no, I do this." Marie-Ange came into the room, and was tempted to turn right back around and leave, like a cartoon graphic she'd seen more than once. "I lurk in rooms predicting people's arrival. It is mysterious. When you do it and know I was hungry and considering take-in, it is worrisome."
She still pushed one of the armchairs towards where Doug was sat, ignoring the squeal of furniture protector pad on hardwood, sat down and then pulled the bag towards her. "Pollo verde?" She did not quite put her face into the bag to inhale, but she did pull the bag up towards her face. "Oh, and mole rojo. Oh, you have brought for me the serious conversation tacos."
"It's only fair, you learned about statistics, so I can have a little lurking as a treat." Doug quieted down as he pulled the tacos and salsas and sides out of the bag and distributed them. The alarmingly lurid-colored ones went with his food, the more earthy-looking flavorful ones to Marie-Ange. He handed her a glass bottle of guava-flavored soda, keeping a half-liter of Mexican Coca-cola for himself, prying the lid off with his nanite hand. He was several bites into a heavily-spiced taco before he spoke again. "Remember that talk we had about Laurie?" he asked, more of a rhetorical conversation opener than actual inquiry. "I think we need to have one about Wade."
"Je' refuse." Marie-Ange said, sullenly. "You cannot bring me tacos and then make me write a plan to kill Wade. This conversation should be over yogurt and fermented salt fish." She made short work of one of the tacos, and wiped her face. "I debriefed my cousin, I have an accounting of his enhanced abilities, we have the X-Men reports." A quick glance at the door, ajar and she started in on another. "His healing is extremely fast, and corrupt. Everyone who encountered him mentioned tumors."
Doug shook his head. "This is going to be hard enough without punishing ourselves with terrible food. If we have to do this-" He took a long moment to look out the window and try and steel himself. "-and I think we do, then we ought to at least give ourselves grace in the process." He took a few more bites of his taco and washed them down with his soda. "The fact that he still had enough of himself in there to send us a message..." He sighed heavily.
"Then he knows he is dangerous." Marie-Ange finished. "It is Wade. He spent whatever time he had free warning us, it is respectful that we take that seriously. Like Marius, I doubt he chose this. If he can be recovered, we recover him. If not.." She plucked one of Doug's little tubs of salsa towards her, and carefully dipped the edge of one of her tacos into it.
The grimace that Marie-Ange made after taking a bite equally as undelicate as the previous application of salsa had been precise and delicate. "Then we swallow pain and grant him mercy. Wade Wilson would not want to be a murderer of children."
"Mercy." Doug nodded. "That's the difference between having this talk about Wade versus having it about Laurie." Angie was right, Wade almost certainly hadn't chosen whatever had been done to him. Laurie had. "I wouldn't want Wade to suffer, if at all possible. But Laurie..." His eyes hardened, remembering Darcy's condition after the mission she had encountered 'Malice' on. "Her I don't care if it hurts or not."
"Garrison wants to arrest her and sometimes I think that would be the best choice." Marie-Ange took a much safer bite of taco, catching a loose piece of shrimp with her fingers before it fell, and popping it in her mouth before she was even done chewing. "Imagine her rage, locked in solitary jail, no visitors, under a false name. No one to remember her, or care, or even show up to gloat. No powers, just her and her choices, for as long as that new healing power lets her live."
A loud, almost derisive bark of laughter escaped from Doug before he could clap his hand over his mouth to stifle it. "Oh that would be -amazing-," he said through a follow-up fit of giggles. "Can you imagine the look on her face?" He had to admit, nothing would stick the knife into Laurie's ego quite like being treated as insignificant. "That image'll keep me warm on some cold nights for sure."
"Laurie chose this, Wade did not. I ran through any number of readings, looking for him, it was always illness and tragedy, never evil of his own doing." Marie-Ange dipped her tortilla into the salsa again, took another bite of the over-spiced taco, and then cracked open the fruit soda Doug had brought her. "We know they got Marius and War through medical centres, we look there first. We have known he was ill, we know he has some kind of red suit, and he is... even without it, his appearance will be distinct." The brief video footage had shown distortions, deformities under the mask, growths and discolourations and the brief glimpses of skin seen were roped with scars. "And we run the plan through those who did not know him well. He knows us, even as broken and mad as he seems, we must assume he can make educated guesses. We put Quentin and Kevin on it. Our new detective friend, Ms Jones. We tap Warren's resources, not Emma."
"And in the meantime, we watch for Clan Akkaba, and whatever they try next." Doug almost asked about the kind of monster preyed on people seeking assistance and medical attention in good faith, but that would have been rhetorical. They had already seen what kind of monsters did that - the sort who viewed obliterating some or all of New York City in furtherance of their goals. And standing against those monsters was X-Force's mission statement.
Marie-Ange wiped her mouth delicately, carefully, and then opened a package of wet wipes Doug had also brought, cleaning salsa off her fingertips. "We know he will make a new Death if one does not work. He tried with Wade, and failed, he tried with Marius and failed. This sort of man, he does not stop at failure, he learns from it, so we must as well."
"There's always more to do." But that was the nature of the world - struggles against these sorts of forces, against hate and destruction and tyranny, never come wrapped up tidily. The best that can be hoped for is a moment of clear success, like they had gotten in District X, that pushes the darkness back for another day. Doug sighed and took another long pull from his soda. "One of these days I'm going to get that 'moon on a stick', though," he declared with a twinkle in his eye.
"I thought you were naming your servers that." Marie-Ange finished her soda. "Tomorrow morning, we put together an information brief and build a working group.' She waved her hand in front of her mouth, and used her sleeve to wipe at her eyes. "Right now we go get ice creams, I need to remember to never touch your salsa again."
Doug couldn't help the amused grin at Marie-Ange's discomfort from the spicy stuff. "Oh, I do call it that sometimes, but it reminds me that Pete always wanted more done, with less resources, and completed quicker. Always a bigger goal to aim for and all that." He tidied their trash and tossed it in a bin as they left the room. "It's cookie mercenary season, let's find a place with their flavors."
For once, it was Doug waiting for Marie-Ange in the solarium. Knowing that she tended to spend time there (based on weather, time of week, and so on) he was sitting in one of the chairs with a very large bag of tacos next to him. He was fidgeting with his phone as he waited, but looked up when she came in.
"No. no, I do this." Marie-Ange came into the room, and was tempted to turn right back around and leave, like a cartoon graphic she'd seen more than once. "I lurk in rooms predicting people's arrival. It is mysterious. When you do it and know I was hungry and considering take-in, it is worrisome."
She still pushed one of the armchairs towards where Doug was sat, ignoring the squeal of furniture protector pad on hardwood, sat down and then pulled the bag towards her. "Pollo verde?" She did not quite put her face into the bag to inhale, but she did pull the bag up towards her face. "Oh, and mole rojo. Oh, you have brought for me the serious conversation tacos."
"It's only fair, you learned about statistics, so I can have a little lurking as a treat." Doug quieted down as he pulled the tacos and salsas and sides out of the bag and distributed them. The alarmingly lurid-colored ones went with his food, the more earthy-looking flavorful ones to Marie-Ange. He handed her a glass bottle of guava-flavored soda, keeping a half-liter of Mexican Coca-cola for himself, prying the lid off with his nanite hand. He was several bites into a heavily-spiced taco before he spoke again. "Remember that talk we had about Laurie?" he asked, more of a rhetorical conversation opener than actual inquiry. "I think we need to have one about Wade."
"Je' refuse." Marie-Ange said, sullenly. "You cannot bring me tacos and then make me write a plan to kill Wade. This conversation should be over yogurt and fermented salt fish." She made short work of one of the tacos, and wiped her face. "I debriefed my cousin, I have an accounting of his enhanced abilities, we have the X-Men reports." A quick glance at the door, ajar and she started in on another. "His healing is extremely fast, and corrupt. Everyone who encountered him mentioned tumors."
Doug shook his head. "This is going to be hard enough without punishing ourselves with terrible food. If we have to do this-" He took a long moment to look out the window and try and steel himself. "-and I think we do, then we ought to at least give ourselves grace in the process." He took a few more bites of his taco and washed them down with his soda. "The fact that he still had enough of himself in there to send us a message..." He sighed heavily.
"Then he knows he is dangerous." Marie-Ange finished. "It is Wade. He spent whatever time he had free warning us, it is respectful that we take that seriously. Like Marius, I doubt he chose this. If he can be recovered, we recover him. If not.." She plucked one of Doug's little tubs of salsa towards her, and carefully dipped the edge of one of her tacos into it.
The grimace that Marie-Ange made after taking a bite equally as undelicate as the previous application of salsa had been precise and delicate. "Then we swallow pain and grant him mercy. Wade Wilson would not want to be a murderer of children."
"Mercy." Doug nodded. "That's the difference between having this talk about Wade versus having it about Laurie." Angie was right, Wade almost certainly hadn't chosen whatever had been done to him. Laurie had. "I wouldn't want Wade to suffer, if at all possible. But Laurie..." His eyes hardened, remembering Darcy's condition after the mission she had encountered 'Malice' on. "Her I don't care if it hurts or not."
"Garrison wants to arrest her and sometimes I think that would be the best choice." Marie-Ange took a much safer bite of taco, catching a loose piece of shrimp with her fingers before it fell, and popping it in her mouth before she was even done chewing. "Imagine her rage, locked in solitary jail, no visitors, under a false name. No one to remember her, or care, or even show up to gloat. No powers, just her and her choices, for as long as that new healing power lets her live."
A loud, almost derisive bark of laughter escaped from Doug before he could clap his hand over his mouth to stifle it. "Oh that would be -amazing-," he said through a follow-up fit of giggles. "Can you imagine the look on her face?" He had to admit, nothing would stick the knife into Laurie's ego quite like being treated as insignificant. "That image'll keep me warm on some cold nights for sure."
"Laurie chose this, Wade did not. I ran through any number of readings, looking for him, it was always illness and tragedy, never evil of his own doing." Marie-Ange dipped her tortilla into the salsa again, took another bite of the over-spiced taco, and then cracked open the fruit soda Doug had brought her. "We know they got Marius and War through medical centres, we look there first. We have known he was ill, we know he has some kind of red suit, and he is... even without it, his appearance will be distinct." The brief video footage had shown distortions, deformities under the mask, growths and discolourations and the brief glimpses of skin seen were roped with scars. "And we run the plan through those who did not know him well. He knows us, even as broken and mad as he seems, we must assume he can make educated guesses. We put Quentin and Kevin on it. Our new detective friend, Ms Jones. We tap Warren's resources, not Emma."
"And in the meantime, we watch for Clan Akkaba, and whatever they try next." Doug almost asked about the kind of monster preyed on people seeking assistance and medical attention in good faith, but that would have been rhetorical. They had already seen what kind of monsters did that - the sort who viewed obliterating some or all of New York City in furtherance of their goals. And standing against those monsters was X-Force's mission statement.
Marie-Ange wiped her mouth delicately, carefully, and then opened a package of wet wipes Doug had also brought, cleaning salsa off her fingertips. "We know he will make a new Death if one does not work. He tried with Wade, and failed, he tried with Marius and failed. This sort of man, he does not stop at failure, he learns from it, so we must as well."
"There's always more to do." But that was the nature of the world - struggles against these sorts of forces, against hate and destruction and tyranny, never come wrapped up tidily. The best that can be hoped for is a moment of clear success, like they had gotten in District X, that pushes the darkness back for another day. Doug sighed and took another long pull from his soda. "One of these days I'm going to get that 'moon on a stick', though," he declared with a twinkle in his eye.
"I thought you were naming your servers that." Marie-Ange finished her soda. "Tomorrow morning, we put together an information brief and build a working group.' She waved her hand in front of her mouth, and used her sleeve to wipe at her eyes. "Right now we go get ice creams, I need to remember to never touch your salsa again."
Doug couldn't help the amused grin at Marie-Ange's discomfort from the spicy stuff. "Oh, I do call it that sometimes, but it reminds me that Pete always wanted more done, with less resources, and completed quicker. Always a bigger goal to aim for and all that." He tidied their trash and tossed it in a bin as they left the room. "It's cookie mercenary season, let's find a place with their flavors."
