Dirty Deeds... Not So Cheap

July 27, 2015:

Domino and Dreamraker are about to work their first job for Wilson Fisk. (vulgarity)

Fisk Safehouse, Long Island


NPCs: Multiplex (emitted by Kingpin)



Mood Music: Dirty Deeds by AC/DC

Fade In…

Amidst the sprawl of middle- to upper-class homes on Long Island, there sits an unassuming, two story home. Nice yard, complete with properly trimmed hedges, a uniform look to its suburban appeal, even a white picket fence and a backyard deck with propane grill. Its relatively quiet on this block, and the home itself is similarly quiet.

Safe for that noise coming from the basement.

Downstairs, the classic sound of AC/DC is cranking through the speakers in a rec room filled with cigarette smoke. Bon Scott wails out the lyrics while two individuals are engaged in a classic game of eight ball.

You got problems in your life of love
You got a broken heart
He's double dealin' with your best friend
That's when the teardrops start, fella

Lynette Shackleford has one leg hiked up on the pool table, her combat boot crammed in between the leg and the base of the table while she stretches out to aim for a particularly tricky shot. A half-smoked cigarette is perched upon lips painted a dark purple, and one eye is narrowed while the other one glowers at the cue ball. Black leather trousers and a ripped up white tank-top, with the words 'SHIT SHOW' scrawled across, complete her ensemble. Hair recently dyed black, she's got it pulled back into a pair of pig tails for irony's sake.

Dirty deeds
Done dirt cheap
Dirty deeds
Done dirt cheap

She smacks the cue ball, which goes flying right off the table and into the drywall, prompting her to step off the billiards table and throw her cue to the cement floor with a scowl.

"AW, FECK YE!" lets loose the fiery Scot. "That's the most bullshat thing I ever seen!" She points at the man across from her, one of Fisk's many hired thugs. "I'm still gonnae kick yer arse, mate."


Equipped with the phone she'd received, Domino decides to go check out the location programmed into the thing's navigation. The mutant strides up to the front door, quickly realizing the phone is the keyupon noting the lack of keyholes, and then pushing the door open to move inside. Where she's met by the roar of AC/DC.

Neena's black lips curve into a lopsided smirk as she begins to move through the first floor, quickly finding herself drawn towards the sound of a woman's shouting. The chalk-white woman is dressed down, with boots, jeans, tank top, and dark jacket over that to help conceal the gun holstered at her side beneath her arm.

Stopping in the doorway to the room with the pool table, the dark-haired mercenary leans against the doorframe, folding her arms across her chest while her eyes sweep across the goon and then Lynette. The redhead is certainly the more interesting of that pair.

A dark brow arches, on the side of Domino's face not covered by the black spot, and the mutant calls loud enough to be heard over the music, "Nice song. A bit of an unimaginative choice, given why we're here. But hey." The merc's smirk grows wider while she speaks, "So, guess we're going to be working together?"


There is only one other person down in the basement, but there are five of him.

"What?" Multiplex goads, leaning towards Lynette with a hand cupped around his ear. Well, probably his ear; his whole head is covered by a mask. "Aye cannae haer ye awl th' way o'er there, gel!" His Scottish accent is horrible. Or excellent, if the whole point is to be as offensively awful as possible.

The other four Multiplexii snicker.

Multiplex-3 strolls towards the door while snickering, too, and stops before the others to inform Domino that: "Indeed we are, pale girl. You need someone to show you the ropes?"


The goon is first to notice their new arrival, but Lynette soon follows. Turning around while simultaneously laying off on the heckling, the red-head eyeballs Domino for a moment or two, clearly developing a few judgement calls whose accuracy will be determined later.

Before answering, she spins back around and throws a middle finger up at Multiplex. "Here, mates," she quips, and turns her other hand out with the middle finger aimed downward. "Let me turn that up…" Her hand pivots one twenty degrees. "… to eleven."

Smirking ruefully, she turns back around and walks over toward Domino, looking her up and down. The word from Multiplex-3 receives a short, snorty laugh of agreement, before she gives Domino an upnod. "So, what's your deal, lassie? Lemme guess. General arse kicker."


The copy that moves for the door earns an idle roll of Dom's blue eyes and amused curve of her lips before she remarks, "Yeah, actually. Specifically, a rope that ends in a noose, if I'm going to have to deal with clones." The wiry woman steps out of the doorway to let the man pass, attention settling on the redhead as she approaches.

"Something like that, yeah. Pretty standard problem solving sort of things. Without anything so showy as a closet full of backup copies of myself. Been around the block a few times, though," Neena answers the other woman's inquiry before offering, "I'm Domino, what am I calling you?" A pale hand comes up, gesturing vaguely towards a couple of the Multiplexes, "And you guys, for that matter? Grumpy, Dopey, Sleepy?"

Looking back to Lynette, the mutant wonders, "And what's your schtick? You look a little like you belong at a Green Day concert or something and less like hired muscle." The comment is accompanied by a grin.


"Clones? Nah."

Mulitplexes-2 through -5 shimmer, become translucent, then vanish entirely, leaving just the jerk at the table, who mimes being gunshot after Dreamraker's double-barreled bird.

"Multiplex," he then corrects as he approaches Domino with his hand out. Whether or not she actually takes it, he throws, "We'll finish this up later, lassie; dont'cha go cheatin' or nothin' while I'm droppin' the kids off," towards Dreamraker, then heads upstairs.


"Dreamraker," answers Lynette, and by the way she grasps Domino's hand, she's no stranger to fisticuffs. Likely, the wiry sort, and the accent is straight out of Glasgow, for those bearing a keen ear. "Mouthful, I know, so just 'Raker' in the field."

She can't help but allow the slightest of smirks at her own remark. She's been practicing lingo, after all, and it feels 'cool' to say things like, 'in the field'.

She steps aside so that Multiplex can make his greeting, only to give him a wink and blow a kiss in departure. "Please. Like I need a cheat to beat yer novice ass."

Her attention is diverted back to Domino, who becomes the recipient of an unimpressed frown at her Green Day remark. "Don't make me show you my wardrobe," she challenges lightly. "Can look like anyone if I need to. But that ain't my schtick." Walking away, she kicks the pool cue up from the floor and grabs it mid-air, before moving off toward the one discarded by Multiplex.

"Here." She tosses the cue at Domino. "Please make up for that ruddy bastart's lacking billiards talent." She then claims the cue ball from its new resting place in the drywall and sets it down in the lead region. That was a scratch, after all.

"You're solids," she explains, before leaning up against the wall, crossing her legs. "You ever have dreams? Nightmares?" she asks her. "I control them."


"Ahh," is all Dom offers as four of the men poof into thin air. "Handy, I'm sure," she adds after a second, before her eyes cut back to Lynette and she takes the woman's hand in a brief shake. "Dreamraker," the mutant repeats, a brow quirking briefly before the Scottish woman draws back so Multiplex can introduce himself.

"Pleasure, I'm sure," Dom remarks after releasing the man's hand and watching him wander off. Looking back to the taller woman, Neena catches the tossed cue and makes her way towards the table. "A game won't hurt. My turn, then?" She muses before eyeing the already in-play table for a second. The cue ball gets moved a couple of inches and then the lean, pale mutant is planting her free hand on the felt and leaning across the edge of the table with the tip of the pool stick resting atop that guiding hand.

"Dreams?" Neena asks before striking the solid white ball to send one of the numbered solids into a pocket, taking advantage of the easiest shot available. While the cue ball is still rolling to a stop, she adds, "I hope you can do that while people are awake, or that sounds damn near useless in this line of work." Glancing briefly at the Gaelic woman, Dom begins stepping around the table for her next shot.


Easy shot, noted. Good technique, but odd that the woman should take the easy shot. Most billiards players tend to hold the easy shots for tight spots. Lynette arches an eyebrow and watched intently as Domino prepares her next play.

"Aye," she agrees. "Awake, or asleep. It's… different. Kinda hard to explain it off." Pushing away from the wall, she reaches into her back pocket for a pack of smokes, grinning in a slightly wicked way. "You know, it'd be hella more fun if I could show ya, but the Employer says that's off limits, less he clears it. So…" She shrugs. She'd much rather earn her keep than show off, no matter how fun it might be.

"Thing is," she tries to explain, "I can make them. Erase them. Manipulate 'em, merge 'em with others, but the real fun is ampin' 'em up." Her grin turns into a mischievous smirk. "Way up."


Neena offers a small mmm sound as she considers the revelation that the woman can in fact do her thing whether or not the target is asleep. A sharp laugh escapes her at mention of the Employer saying to avoid doing it, "Glad they covered that. I sure as hell don't want somebody nosing around in my head."

Setting up for her next shot, Dom taps her fingers against the pool cue idly. The mutant mercenary has a strange obsession with odds and things being in order. The worse the odds are, the better. It's like eating the thing on your plate that you like least, first. Domino's second shot looks to be the easiest remaining one on the table for her, again.

Suffice to say a game of 'pool' doesn't matter a whole lot in the grand scheme of things, so her power isn't really coming into effect. Or doesn't seem to, anyways. Another solid goes in, but so does the cue ball. Muttering under her breath, Neena steps back from the table, looking to the redhead, "Amp them up, eh? How's that work, exactly? My dream about Superman suddenly feel real or something?"


Lynette sucks on her teeth when the cue ball follows its target in. "Eh, would'a happened to me too." Walking forward, she snatches the cue ball from its pocket and sets up her shot, an attempt to ride the railto sink the 15 in a corner pocket.

Before taking the shot, however, she fishes out a smart phone from her other pocket. This is her own phone; not the one issued by the Employer, but it's GPS has been 'disabled' (read: removed) and its pre-paid wireless. Cash is King. She's a quick study.

The phone is set down upon a table, and a video file is pulled up. The video shows two women seated at a bar, their eyes open but droopy. Loud music throbs in the backdrop, and based on the attire of the women, it's some kind of fetish night. One is dressed in a men's suit, hair slicked back, the other wears black tape around her chest.

The video turns and focuses on the latter of the two, the one wearing a tape bandage top. Her head bobs slowly, as if she were fast asleep, in spite of her slightly opened eyes. Those eyes begin to twitch about, and eventually, blood begins to pool in her mouth, nose, and ears, dripping down onto her 'clothing' and exposed skin.

The cue ball strikes the rail, and the 15 goes skirting along it into the corner pocket.

"Your mind makes it real."

Yes… that was a very poorly attempted Morpheus impression.


Neena looks curiously at the phone, moving to watch the video. After a second, she wonders aloud, "Who are they supposed to be?" After a second, another question follows, "What is she wearing? Tape?" Shaking her head, Dom laughs to herself, "Damn, girl." As the video focuses on the tape-wearing member of the pair, the mutant reaches for the phone, looking more closely at the video.

A quiet whistle escapes the mercenary after the woman begins to look like she's tripping on something and then the blood becomes apparent. Setting the device back down, Dom glances to the redhead after that comment, "What'd she do to piss you off? And what the hell was she thinking about there?"

While the other woman lines up for her next shot, the dark-haired merc leans against the wall, both hands curled around her cue, with the butt of it against the floor. "You know how to handle a firearm? Or is that trick what you got hired for?"


"Nothing," Lynette answers, at least, in regard to what she did. "Her friend there, though? Right pain in the arse."

Rising, the red-head trolls around the billiards table, eyeing her predicament. She's left herself with no easy shots, so a bank and combo shot's all she has, and lets face it, the hellion isn't really patient with these kinds of shots. She takes aim quickly, blasts the cue ball across the table, and manages to at leastbank it into the 12, but the 12 careens off and knocks one of Domino's balls closer to the side pocket.

"Christ," she hisses, then walks off, grabbing the cigarette from her mouth and ashing it into a tray nearby.

"They," she corrects Domino, "were having a nightmare. A particularly vicious nightmare, where the poor girl with her tits all taped up was crushed to death." Remembering the whole thing, Lynette actually giggles. "Bet she hasn't slept ever since!"

Now, when asked about firearms, Lynette's nose curls a bit. "Eh. Yeah, I do, but it really ain't my specialty. I know how not to bloody shoot myself, but I'm not really the best aim. Rather use me fists, or in a pinch, you can always curb stomp a bawbag. Naw, I wasn't hired for my munitions talents, Domino." She glances toward the patch-eyed merc with a knowing wink.

"So, how we gonna play this out?" she asks. "You need a distraction, I have plenty."

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