|Wade Wilson In his first mission as an official member of X-Force, Wade encounters someone - or something - horrifying.
For each kick and each punch, each resulting twist and turn of Sunglass's frame, Wade threw himself enough off balance so that, when the time came, the dark man joyfully lunged to slide his long knife past the chinks in Deadpool's armor and land a squelching stab.
"I've itched to do that since yer sorry team boarded. You have that kind of face."
Wade smiled through the pain, clamping his arm down on his side and jerking away from the creepy fucker before twisting and snagging him around the neck with the effortlessness of muscle memory. Take the jab and the blood and the sharp agony in one side and let it flow out the other, conscious of it but not letting it inhibit him as he swung himself up and around to put the creeper in a classic jiu jitsu choke hold. He dislodged the knife from its place between his ribs and flung it away.
Somewhere in the move, though, the sunglasses got knocked askew and, as Wade pulled backward, leveraging himself against the deck to put as much pressure on the other man's throat as possible, he took a moment to check out his dimly lit but visible face. The eyes. The eyes were shattered, fractured patterns of jagged pupil, retina, sclera. The mercenary tightened his hold - whatever this man was, he wasn't normal... and he had an unnatural fixation on his mother.
A moment's hesitation was enough. The eyes shone brightly, and then Sunglasses broke the hold as he pushed Wade's elbow through and around with inhuman strength. He did not let go, however, and used his new grip on Wade's wrist and elbow to deliver a swift series of kicks that spoke to the speed only previously hinted at.
"She's got," he sang again.
"Control of me." Another kick.
"I tuuuurn," And a final blow before he used the advantageous position to flip Wade into the air and back-first onto the steep stairwell below.
"And obey." Sunglasses grinned as Wade tumbled down the metal stairs. He absently wiped a trickle of blood from his nose, and there was a faint hiss and spitting sound as the blood boiled against the metal of the stairway handrail.
Definitely some broken ribs in addition to the stab wound - both injuries would take a little while to heal. That was time Wade didn't have. So he pushed himself up, spat blood on the deck, and stood. Even accounting for a mutation that left him super strong, it should have taken more to break that hold than it had - and those eyes. "Guys," Wade said, raising one hand to check his ear for his comm. "This — " He didn't finish though.
His comm was gone.