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Time to Cool Off; Carpenter, Thunderbolts after a while
Topic Started: Feb 19 2010, 08:40 AM (491 Views)
Black Tom
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The pain continued to surge through Thomas’ body and Sabretooth stepped away from his prone prey. The Irishman’s body relaxed and his muscles loosened as the nano-chain was deactivated. The stimulus had ceased but it still felt as if he was being twisted on the rack. Thomas’ jaw fell open slightly and his wide eyes searched around the ceiling for some sort of respite. His field of vision was occluded by the faces of his handlers. Carpenter’s wonder twins hefted him under the arms and raised him up from the floor.

The technicians checked Tom’s vital signs to make sure that he was still alive. After his stunt he would be rushed to the medic wing to be checked over thoroughly to ensure that he wasn’t beyond repair. Following the examination he’d probably be locked in his quarters and then interrogated with all the most pleasant techniques that SHIELD had at its disposal.

Carpenter slumped limply as the handlers lifted him. His mouth was slack and there was drool sliming its way out of the corner of his lips. Tom’s eyes were hooded as he looked up toward Creed and they held a glassy composure. “Not always…about winning…the fight,” Cassidy said slowly.

Tom felt that it was imperative to never show weakness to anyone. This was especially true for those that were trying to dominate him and take away his freedom. He might not be the strongest or most berserker-like in the Thunderbolts but he wasn’t going to let his spirit be crushed. Sure, he could grow to love the cold-blooded killing in the way that Creed had implied but Tom would never grow to accept being some dog on a leash. Even a dog that was trained and loyal for years could snap back at the master.

Thomas was checked out quickly in the medical wing. There had been no damage to his heart or other internal organs. With some rest, and disciplinary action, he’d be ready to fight in the next Thunderbolt mission that came along. Once he was cleared by the doctors, the Irishman was thrown into a cell in the brig to await the next course of action.
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Nick Fury
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The Spy
"I don't like this, Carpenter," Fury said, from the darkness, emerging into the light with a grim look on his dark face, "I don't like the extremes we have to go to save the world from you gene-jokes. We've tried reasoning, we've tried giving you people your own little jungle paradise, I've even offered the powerful like you a position of authority, catering to your specific skills. I don't want to have to break you, Cassidy, I don't want to have to lobotomize you to make you compliant. I have plenty of brain dead humans to do the wetwork if that's what I wanted."

The Director of Shield leaned against the wall, his arms folded, his legs crossed, an unusually casual stance. "I could have you executed, any of you including Creed, including Marvel, there's got to be some way to keep her dead, after all. There are higher ups, higher than me even, who want the Thunderbolts project terminated. They're scared of you, and I suppose they have reason to be. You're all incredibly scary creatures. However, I am far more scary, and let me tell you why."

He came close to the cell bars and he said, "You kill because you're a criminal, because you are a bad ass mutant, because you like it. I kill because if I don't, I and everything in this world that I give a damn about ends. I am not finished with the world. I'm not ready to die. I kill because I have to and there is nothing more dangerous than a man fighting for his life."

Turning away, he said, "You will be trained, Carpenter, and you will be broken. The question is how difficult you choose to make it on yourself. Straighten yourself out. I have people I wish dead soon. You'll hate to miss out on all the fun."

Then Carpenter was left alone in the dark, in the cold, and in the empty.
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