This Is The Reaper


cardinal_icon.gif mortimer_icon.gif

Scene Title This Is The Reaper
Synopsis The shadow calls on madness for a favor.
Date May 29, 2009

A phone conversation

A phone number, given some weeks back, is dialed from somewhere in an increasingly fortified encampment on Staten Island. The card it was scrawled on reads 'Mort' next to it, so hopefully it's not an inaccurate labeling.

The man dialing leans back against the side of a barricade, head tilted back and a frown traced across his features.

Sitting somewhere, on something with the wind blowing around him, Mortimer answers in a rather relaxed tone, "Mortimer Jack, leader of the Locos speaking. Who is it?"

"'Afternoon," comes the voice on the other side of the phone, "This is the Reaper. You remember me, from the bar? We were going to do some work together, never heard from you though…"

"Oh, right, still working on that. I hit a slight snag a week or so ago." Mortimer explains very casually, over what sounds like a bit of a political debate in the background. "I got my arm blown off by an ATF agent, I've fallen in what may or may not be love, and I have a chainsaw attached to my arm. But don't worry, I still need you, plans are still in motion."

Cardinal stares at the phone for a moment. "…you've had an interesting couple of weeks," he murmurs, hesitating, "Well, let me know as soon as you've got plans, I'm still in. Actually, I was hoping that I could ask you and the boys for a little favor."

"A favor?" Mortimer asks, already intrigued. Favors are usually fun when they come from mysterious reapers over the phone. "And what would that be? Don't worry, I'm very pro-boner. And I mean boner in the original 1960s Joker use of the term."

"It's funny you phrase it that way," Cardinal replies a bit dryly, "As it involves a boner… in the sense of someone who can turn human flesh into bone."

"Sounds fun." Mortimer laughs, reving his chainsaw for a few seconds in the background. "What do you want me to do to him, or her?" he wonders, once the chainsaw stops.

"This little sonuvabitch works for a particularly huge scumbag, name of John Logan… runs a brothel on Staten, makes a business out of addicting people to his power and whoring them out. He's kidnapped people, tortured them, he's a real sick bastard. So, this guy - I don't got a name, but he's some asian or half-asian kid, hangs out in the Rookery - I need him picked up," Cardinal says with a snort, "So he can undo whatever he did to a friend of mine. After that, well, I haven't decided yet."

"I don't particularly like drugs, at least not when they're used on defenseless people." Mortimer says with a hint of disgust. He has his morals. "I'll go after the Asian kid, and while I'm at it, I think I'll cut the Logan guy's arms and legs off, patch him up, then get him addicted to crack in one of my hide outs. Don't worry, I won't kill him."

"I'm absolutely not going to argue that one," Cardinal allows, his tone wry, "Just be careful've the guy - he can negate powers, and manipulate body chemistry, an' shit. Just do me a favor and grab this asian kid so he can patch up my friend first?"

"Got it, I'll get the Asian kid, then I'll go after that Wolverine guy on my own time." Mortimer agrees, standing up and raising his hand to rev his chainsaw, since he has no free fingers to snap. "Everyone! Get the special grenades ready, and stop arguing this political crap, no one cares!"

"Thanks," Cardinal's grin is audible through the phone, and it's not a nice grin. "Let me know when you pick him up, and we'll rendezvous."

"No problem!" Mortimer eagarly says, then click.

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