Paragons

Issue 1- Home

 Before she could even think about the best way to awaken him the man suddenly jerked upwards with a groan, a trail of spittle stretched from the corner of his mouth to the puddle of drool that now rested upon the hat. Now that he had moved she could just make out a mark that revealed the spot where once something 'X' shaped had been affixed.

 His grey eyes blinked wildly as his head jerked about before he finally settled his gaze upon the toaster beside him. "Now why the fuck are you screaming?" he stretched his eyes wide as he smacked his lips. "Intruder?" Then his head turned towards her, and he skidded backward upon his seat as the duster fell to the floor and stopped his move away from her. "Fark!"

 "Good night?" she smiled at him with a glint of knowing in her eye. "I knocked, but your door was unlocked."

 "I have a lock? Nobody told me that. Since when did I have a lock? Is that why I keep losing stuff?" He sat himself up straight as he cleared his throat and pointed a finger in her direction. "And just so you know I would have totally shot you by now, if somebody hadn't stolen my gun, like, two days ago. So... you should thank that person. Saved your life."

 She nodded. "I'll do that. So you're Mitchell Blake right? This is your place? Paragon Services?"

 "Huh? Yeah," he muttered as he continued to wipe the drool from his mouth that seemed determined to not go away. "But it's Darktruth. Not... the other name. Also technically it's Tapster's place. He also owns the business, just leaves all the doing to me. Pretty sure people are just trying to keep me busy. Also, think he's still kinda mad I set his bar on fire, but that was technically not my fault. Except for the petrol. I did bring that."

 The woman licked her lower lip, only to realise he'd finished talking. "Well, Darktruth, I'm Dr. Yuri Anderson and... Can I get you anything? You don't look like a coke or weed kind of guy, but I could get you some meth or maybe heroin."

 "I'm okay," he muttered with a raised eyebrow to the toaster.

 "Sure, anyway, I'm Dr. Anderson and I'm here from Maven Pharmaceuticals and we would like to hire you for your unique skill-set, and, by skill-set, I really just mean that you're a mutant not living on Krakoa that fancies themself some kind of merc. That particular blend actually makes you quite valuable to my boss." She crossed her arms. "Why aren't you on Krakoa? Have you even been?"

 "I've been busy," he replied and gestured broadly to the piles of trash that filled his office. "Obviously." Another side look to the toaster. "You shush."

 Dr. Anderson reached into the pocket of her hoodie and retrieved a thick envelope she dropped upon the desk with a heavy thud. "Whatever. Don't really care. But there's half your pay for the job, other half on completion, yadda yadda yadda. You gonna do it?"

 There was a moment of silence as his eyes glanced over the rather plain, white envelope. "What am I doing? Who am I killing?"

 She chuckled. "No killing, unless you really want to. I don't give a shit what you do on the way. We just want some of those pretty flowers they have. As many as you can get."

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Darktruth

Look, I dunno if you even read but I'm still going to write you this and hope you don't just toss it into a pile of garbage, though I don't expect much.

It's no secret that you've been in a bit of a foul mood lately, and it's less of a secret why. And I get it. I've seen you this way enough times I couldn't not get it. But I also can't put up with this shit. Especially not after you set my bar on fire, whether it was 'infested with Skrulls' or not. The company is still technically mine, but you run it. By yourself. Just try to do something bloody constructive with it.