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~~Egyptian Snow Pharaoh~~ · (12-17-2013)

OOC: This RP ties in with Michael's RP earlier this week. Michael's character appears with permission, and Dr. Zero wrote his own character's bits.

The Weapon Maker

2 days ago

"I will not be needing the assault rifle," I tell Poindexter as he nods and quickly puts it back in its spot on the wall, taking a moist towelette to wipe off any smudges he got on it while handling it. He asks me 'what about the spear gun' and I can't help but find some amusement in that. "Why, Poindexter?" I place my hand on my hip and my weight on one foot as I tilt my head. "What am I going to do with the spear gun? Play Scorpion and fire a spear through his window, plunging through his chest and then yank him to me while shouting 'get over here' in the original MK1 arcade voice?"

Poindexter's jaw drops and he just blinks a couple times before finally saying, "I have no idea what you just said, girl." That's correct; he calls me 'girl' — that's also correct; he is a homosexual. Not because men who prefer men are the "cool" thing around certain members of the XWF male locker room... not because gay jokes are supposedly hilariously effective in the land of extreme... not even because Unknown Soldier feeds off of homosexuality. No... the reason Poindexter is a homosexual is because he's a normal man who just happens to be attracted to other men. He's also a man who is capable of taking down, crippling, and even killing the most skilled homophobes on the planet. Do not dare judge him by his attire, or the colors he has chosen for his caped crusades...

This man has already dealt with every gay joke, homophobic slur, and gaybashing attempt you can imagine and he's come out on top every time. He's even survived having to leave his own home planet; a devastating blow after struggling so many years to simply be accepted by his people. His fellow kind could not accept that there might be a homosexual among them, and Poindexter's attempts at hiding his true self were failing miserably... possibly due in part to the color of his attire and his high pitched voice with a forced lisp every time he speaks. The time had come to confess the truth and move on...

Now, how I know this man in the first place and the exact extent of my business with him are none of your concern, but I can tell you he is the perfect man for this job—a live collection! We finish putting our combat gear on, fully ready to blend silently into the shadows—save for the bright pink mask—and we alone possess enough firepower and physical skill to take out an actual army. As we close up the doors to his private weapon room, Poindexter asks, "So the Doc will be expecting this package we're about to go collect for him, right? I don't want to have to babysit nobody."

"Anybody..."

"What?" He asks that in the same tone as if I asked him something in a completely unfamiliar language.

"Anybody — you don't want to have to babysit anybody," I say as we walk down a long hallway with a beautiful cherry stained, oak floor. Poindexter giggles at my suggestion and calls me a silly ass.

My version of McBride's last known sighting...

"There is a calling, Michael. It's deep inside of you. Come... let me help you answer it."

I remember almost feeling bad for him as he stood there trying to block sand from blinding him even further; for that split second I felt sorry in the way you might feel remorse when watching a small, helpless rodent struggle for its life. How could a simple parlor trick such as a simulated sand storm be making Michael McBride so helpless? Is he really that much of a shell of his former self? I remember telling him to disarm and accept me; something he could not accept at the time.

"Yeah, fuck no! Who the fuck are you?!?!"

A fair question indeed. Poindexter answered Michael with a tranquilizer dart to the neck; a perfect shot and within seconds we have a tumbling Michael McBride crashing at our feet. "I'm going to make you you again..." I tell him... I wonder if he can hear me.

Turning to Poindexter with a satisfied grin, I say "The package has been signed and sealed. It's time we deliver it.

Let Dr. Zero know to prepare the malneurolignancy antidiscombobulator."

...

"Girl, I don't have a clue what you just said," replies Poindexter in all his typically high pitched, lispy glory with a quick flick of the wrist. I'll just send a text to Nurse X saying we're on our way..."

"Excellent. Let's go."

Sometime between then and today

Finally arriving at Dr. Zero's lab, Poindexter drops Michael McBride's unconscious body across the table and I thank Poindexter for all of his help, telling him to expect payment in full for his services later tonight. He thanks me but not before grabbing a handful of the unconscious Michael McBride's crotch, saying "Oh yeah I can see why you chose him. This boy is well hung."

"That's not any of my or your concern, Poindexter, but be prepared because I am going to require your services again very soon. I will be in touch," I tell him as Dr. Zero just stares at him for a little while without saying anything. Once Poindexter is gone, Dr. Zero looks at me and I simply say, "Don't ask." He just shrugs and continues looking over the body of Michael McBride as I ask Dr. Zero only one question…"Is the malneurolignancy antidiscombobulator ready?"

If beaks could smirk.

"Oh, my dearest Pharaoh, it is MORE than ready! This may be my most astounding work in quite a while. I thank you for bringing me the beta here to test it. Once we see how everything goes here, which will undoubtedly be flawless, it is my work after all, the implications of the work will be far reaching."

I raise my finger into the air as an idea forms in my mind... "Actually, I feel like this one could potentially be used for immediate strategic benefit due to my being scheduled in a match with him and John Raide this Thursday. His past is something he tries to suppress and his basic primal urges he has learned to ignore... for the most part. Let's sever that ability that he's honed over the years... let us give new life to that murderous hellion of times forgotten! May I suggest, Dr. Zero... you craft a living weapon, for your living weapon?" I gaze at his round chicken eyes with hopeful eyes of my own. Imagine the things I could do if I march into that triple threat match with one of the combatants completely under my control? This is Michael McBride's calling... he should belong to me. He should regain his status as nothing more than a living, breathing weapon. How dare he try to bury such glorious roots.

I almost fantasize about the limitless possibilities that could unfurl; meanwhile Dr. Zero walks around the table, carefully studying McBride. "Hmm…I was wrong to view him as a trivial threat at best. He clearly has the ability to be so much more. Number 88, SCALPEL!" Minion Number 88 rushes to the doctor's side and hands him a scalpel. Dr.Zero makes two small incisions, one just under McBride's right eye, and the other, above it. "What I am doing right now is augmenting his vision. This device right here…," He reaches up without so much as a glance and pulls down a rather large, yellow tube that was hanging above. Dr. Zero then begins to force it into place over the eye. "…once I get it…in…the right place…"

*CLICK*

"Ahh, yes..." says Dr. Zero with the utmost satisfaction in his voice. I on the other hand am a little perplexed by this step.

"Are we certain it is necessary to shove a hose into his eye," I ask curiously. "Aren't we cutting away a large percentage of his vision by doing that?"

Dr. Zero continues pressing buttons and monitoring the process as he explains, "What the device will now do is begin to inject the eye with a formula specifically engineered with his DNA in mind in order to help him see for greater distances than any of his species. Once fully healed, he will be able to see such small detail in objects that even molecules in the air will reflect images to him. This will make it very possible, with practice, to see beyond the curvature of the horizon itself."

"Very impressive," I say as I can't help but wonder one very important detail — will this new improvement in vision allow Michael McBride to see far enough back to his own grave mistake? Will he remember the significance of October 9th, 2013? Will he see his own words flash before his very eyes—?–

(10-09-2013, 10:30 PM)Michael McBride Said: "Now hold on there lass. I do hope yer' not talkin' about me. Don't give me a reason ta' kick that pretty little arse of yers'. I don't let anyone talk down on me. I'll tell ye' wha' I tell everyone else. Don't give an Irishman a reason."

I hope he is able to clearly see all the way back to that date and realize it's the key to unlocking his tomorrow. I laid out an invitation on October Ninth of this year and most of the population was unwilling or unable to accept... but Michael McBride certainly did; he accepted me with open arms. I peer into these memories of October and have but one thing to say—"I am in love with this week."

I can place myself right back in that time as I close my eyes and lean my head back just a bit... "Oh, Michael... it's been a long time coming. It's been here all along." I run my fingernails softly down the side of my left cheek, beginning to dig deeper as I approach my jaw and advance down the side of my neck; a clear, vibrant set of scratches appear on my neck as that sweet nectar begins to ooze. The brightness of my blood almost gives off this illumination... and when the lights around me dim, that illumination becomes even more prominent as the hints of neon black begin populating these cuts. "All of time; it's mine for the taking. Completion is not linear, Michael McBride. You already joined me over two months ago; it's just taken your body a while to figure that out." I open my eyes and snap back into the "now"—something I wish people such as Unknown Soldier could do—and I see Dr. Zero lifting both of McBride's arms and gazing at them from several different angles.

"Hmm…Quite impressive," says the doctor. "Number 15, bring me the nanoinjector." One of his Minions approaches, looking exactly like the previous one. Dr. Zero takes what appears to be a small, metallic gun from Number 15. He reaches onto a metal table next to him then seems to think twice. He places the nanoinjector on the table and reaches up for another tube. This one a dark red color.

"I almost forgot, before we enhance the musculature, we will have to drain the blood."

"An yes, but of course."

Dr. Zero holds onto the red tube with his left hand and picks the scalpel back up, making a deep cut in McBride's abdomen. He shoves the tube in and rushes to a control panel. After typing furiously for several moments, he flips a switch and the machine loudly comes to life. Blood spurts out of the side of the tube.

"Curses," Dr. Zero says. "It appears we have some leaks. No matter. It is not like we have never seen blood before, eh?"

He removes the tube and pokes two fingers into the hole in McBride's abdomen. He removes them, showing no signs of blood remaining in the body. One of his Minions walks over and rubs a gel over the wound, sealing it shut. "Thank you, Number 744." The Minion walks off and Dr. Zero prepares the nanoinjector. As he presses it to McBride's arm, he shakes violently. Dr. Zero chuckles... "This concoction will be his new life-fluid. It will enhance the responsiveness of his muscles, numb his nervous system causing him to feel little to no pain, and greatly increase his lung-capacity."

I watch patiently, almost feeling like what I imagine a small human child around Christmas time might feel; anticipation building and chills up the spine. Dr. Zero tosses the nanoinjector into a "USED" bin and presses a button on the table. The table starts to tilt and rise, standing McBride up. The yellow tube is obviously stuck very deep in his right eye and is stretching part of his face as it moves. Once he is in a standing position, Dr. Zero places a metal cap on his head and begins probing him with wires all over his body. "Now for the best part, dear. Now we use this device to replay his memories of being a terrible weapon ad nauseam while simultaneously adding new, even more sinister ones that I have spent the past week developing just for him. These wires, meanwhile, will transmit signals all over his body to make him feel the pain, despite the new life-fluid, of all that he has hurt, all that he will hurt, and just your mundane everyday hurt. The result, if my calculations are correct, and they are, should be a weapon of great power fueled by nothing but anger and revenge. All remorse, restraint, guilt, empathy, and all that other nonsense will be completely done away with once I flip this switch."

I can feel goosebumps on my breasts as my nipples harden at the thought of all this coming to pass. Dr. Zero flips a switch on the medical bed. The lights dim, and the wires glow with an electric blue. The cap on McBride's head begins to spark... His left eye opens wide and he screams!

"Curses," mutters Dr. Zero.

"Should he be able to open his eye and should he be able to scr–"

"No!" Dr. Zero's shouting is overpowered by the sounds of explosions all around. The machine seems to be electrocuting Michael McBride! That tube pops completely out of McBride's right eye and a mixture of liquid and smoke begin spraying out of it. Parts of the machine are burning and melting away before our very eyes... but then it happens. An explosion from inside the machine itself, directly behind Michael McBride's back, sends him flying free from the machine and straight into Dr. Zero and myself! We go down with a hard thud as McBride's weight lands on top of us. His body twitches and his arms flail around wildly as he rolls off of us and resembles a fish out of water for a few seconds. Explosions are still going off, alarms are sounding and pieces of equipment and machines are falling over. Part of a machine of some kind falls on top of Dr. Zero and myself, keeping us pinned down as Michael McBride's body finally stops twitching.

Michael slowly begins to push himself up and he cracks his neck upon standing. From our position stuck underneath this massive piece of metal, he cannot see me or Dr. Zero. I watch silently as Michael looks around and identified the exit. He opens the door and begins walking out as I decide to change my voice to somebody else Michael might recognize... "Hey, Michael! You may have gotten away from me today but I'll see you in our match this Thursday and I will put you down like the dog you are."—and there you have my best John Raide; it's enough to catch McBride's attention as he turns back to glance over his shoulder. I remain tucked out of sight as Michael turns back around and makes his exit; the last voice on his mind after going through such a traumatizing event being John Raide's... heh, heh, heh. With the process incomplete, there's no telling what kind of damage has been done to that poor, worthless mongrel's mind and body. He could very well be dead within the hour......

.....or he could become something even more vile than what he considers to be his own darkest, suppressed memory. With a grin, I dwell on this particular probability just a few seconds longer than any other. I'll find out the answer this Thursday, if not sooner.

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode The Weapon Maker (Featuring Dr. Zero and Michael McBride)
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