Ok, so maybe trying to scare a mutant super-soldier who might or might not have PTSD and lived an existence of constant life or death struggles, AND was being hunted by a super-secret government agency was a bad idea.
Ok, fine, it was a friggin idiotic idea in retrospect. Logan didn't appreciate his prank and he had to apologize and, definitely not a bribe, get him a case of very pricey alcohol for the man’s forgiveness.
Apparently getting stabbed in the foot wasn't enough of a punishment in the man's eyes when he reflexively attacked the offending appendage. If Andrew wasn't able to cut off his nerves to the limb he probably would've screamed like a bitch, but man, did it hurt like hell before he thought of the idea.
It was so worth it!
Watching the famed and legendary Wolverine jump like that? Priceless. He may be a few hundred dollars short now, but nothing he can't fix by a few more late-night strolls. He was never more thankful for the over abundance of criminals in NYC. Andrew recently learned that once he got out of his shell and timid personality, he could be a bit of an asshole, because he ended up doing it again a week later, this time with his phone ready to record the entire thing.
Logan learned that he couldn't trust a certain little asshole to leave him alone when he went to nap in the living room's sofa.
He wonders how much cash he could make from Youtube after Heroes become popular and he uploaded this stuff online.
"Spiderman, world's greatest hero, pukes after rollercoaster?"
"Wolverine singing in the shower!"
"Scott Summers, ding dong ditch?"
"Storm, Queen of Wakanda and Goddess, snorts milk after laughing too hard!"
Maybe he could use it as blackmail? Mr big and tough Principle or team leader getting embarrassed in front of all his students? Decisions, decisions...
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Andrew was not fucking prepared for the bomb Peter suddenly dropped on him right after school was out and he just had his dreaded math class taught by an old and mean spirited crone. He couldn't even be bothered to remember the cranky bitch's name. The point was that it was far too early for this shit and he was also far too sober. He didn't actually drink, but he felt the expression appropriate in this situation.
"Yo, Andrew, this is Harry Osborn. I met him in Calculus and we seemed to hit it off!"
Goddamnit Peter, you can't just frigging stroll up out of nowhere in the middle of the day and introduce me to your future, potential, arch-nemesis! There were steps and procedures to these things, damn it! Still, he had to at least pretend he wasn't freaking out, so he gave a small smile and offered a handshake.
"Sup, I'm Andrew, Andrew William. It's nice to meet you."
"Well, as Peter already stated, I'm Harry. Pleased to make your acquaintance."
Urg, "Pleased to make your Acquaintance"? What a blowhard.
Ok, so maybe he was just a little, tiny, itsy bitsy bit biased against the kid. Which he definitely was, for all intents and purposes the Green Goblin didn't exist yet so Harry was only another kid with daddy issues. A dime a dozen in high schools if you ignored the fact that said daddy was rich and a megalomaniac, but hey all dads and boomers had a bit of an ego, no?
His own was no exception so he didn't have much room to talk.
"So, where are y'all heading to?"
"Oh, Harry invited me to come over to play some video games."
"Yeah, I just got the new Arkham game, would you like to join..?"
He ignored the irony of Green Goblin Jr. playing a batman game of all things, not only because the would-be villain was playing as a superhero, but that the parallels between them and Joker or TwoFace were hilarious. It wouldn't do to laugh in someone's face after they offered to hang out after all.
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"Nah, I'm good. Thanks for the invite Harry, but I already made some plans with some friends. Have fun though!"
"Suit yourself, cmon Peter, my chauffeur is waiting for us out front."
"Laters, Andrew!"
Man, why didn't he have his own private driver? Why was it always the rich evil assholes that had all the good stuff? That does it, once he becomes a professional hero, he was hiring his own team to take care of him and his every needs! Well, maybe besides cooking, he actually liked the hobby.
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"I see you've failed to retrieve Weapon X... Again. What does this make it now? The 30th failure? 47th? Honestly, I stopped keeping track after the 12th."
A tall and slender woman walked back and forth in front of a bound Sabretooth, mockingly questioning him as she went. The restraints were more for show than anything else. He could break out of the pathetic leather straps and metal bands whenever he pleased and they both knew it, but the sick bitch enjoyed yanking his chains and the position of power she held over him.
Sure, he could rip out of them at any time along with her pretty little throat, but then he would have to deal with the Facility hunting him down just like they did Wolverine, besides they were a great help for him and his little game at getting back at the stupid runt, so he had to play by their rules... For now.
Once he bores of this place the first thing he would do id make this stuck up bitch shut up, though whether he would just rip off her jaw or tear out her vocal cores were still up to debate.
Oh! Why not both? Bloody brilliant! His own genius astounded even him sometimes.
"What are you smirking at, mutt?" Sabretooth decided to carve the pain of the blow to memory because he was definitely going to repay her tenfold later on. The kick managed to break his nose but as soon as her foot left it snapped back into place. His grin only grew all the bigger as blood dripped down his face. "You have the nerve to be smiling after your stupid stunt? We lost 30 men, almost everyone besides the damn pilot in that taskforce, you bumbling idiot!"
"Oh, why don't you lay off. It's not like you don't have another hundred or two other weaklings laying around, and we both know you don't give a damn about their lives any more than I do, Deathstrike." Lady Deathstrike was the last person he would want to hear about wasting lives in pointless endeavors considering she and her father were the crackpots that helped come up with Weapon X's Adamantium enhancement for Wolverine and had a hand in who knows how many other human experimentations.
"That's not the point. Do you think it's cheap or easy to raise loyal soldiers? I could've used them for far better purposes than simple meatshields! You can never have enough guinea pigs, and we can only take so many kids from the orphanage before S.H.I.E.L.D or A.I.M gets on our asses."
Sadly there was a disturbing lack of... Human resources around these parts. Oh, how she missed the bases in third world countries. Sure, they were dirty and smelly shitholes of countries, but nobody batted an eye if she brought a kid off the streets or if some hobos or prostitute went missing. Oh well, she'd just have to contend with following orders as long as it brought her closer to the demise of the father's murderer, Wolverine.
A sentiment that, fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you viewed it, she shared with the brutish man in front of her.
"Don't worry about it, I never forget a scent once I've smelt it. Weapon X and that shitty kid is no exception, I can find them anytime. Now, how about you shut up and make yourself useful and start the process already, Doc?"
"... Very well. I was going to use anesthetic, but a big, strong, tough guy like you wouldn't need it, right?"
"Pfft, hell yeah, I ain't no pussy-"
His loud screams soon turned into beastly roars as he was submerged into a tank of boiling green fluids. He had been bisected, cut open, and torn apart in more ways than one. The pain and suffering he had been through and physical abuse that would kill any man a thousand times over ensured that his pain tolerance was out of this world.
And all of that meant jack shit in front of his current suffering.
After all, one didn't simply ignore the burning pain of molten metal literally being injected into your bones. The Adamantine bonding process has already begun, and if a certain vindictive woman just so happened to make the process more painful than it strictly needed to be... Well, who would ever know?
You really shouldn't mess with your doctors, they were well learned in how to treat your body, know it inside and out, and especially on how to break it in the most painful and efficient ways possible. Heroes weren't the only ones improving, and after his little upgrade, he couldn't wait to test them out. He knew just who he had to thank for it too.
The sound of the wild man was music to her ears as Lady Deathstrike walked off towards her lab. Even from 50 meters away and through many many thick steel walls, his anguish was still clearly heard and she gave off a sadistic smile as she heard them.
"Now then... Let's see how well you can handle it, shall we?"
Strapped down in a similar device as Sabretooth was a young girl with long black hair and sharp green eyes. The "daughter" of one of her colleagues who had been infused with DNA taken from Weapon X long ago.
"I do hope that if you don't survive you'll at least be able to provide some meaningful data, X-23, or else your life really would've been a worthless waste of time and effort, wouldn't it?"
After a few minutes Lady Deathstrike decided that even if it wasn't as loud as Sabretooth, the young girl's screams weren't half bad. The higher pitch was quite melodic as it resonated with the other's pain. A truly exquisite symphony of suffering.
Her grin and wild eyes were the textbook definition of a mad scientist as she stared at the progressing experiment.