No Insane People Need Apply (Bullseye)

“Gifted? Is that what you call it? That's a new one.” Typhoid laughed at that. She never gave her ability a name and neither did the doctors, other than some sort of psychosomatic symptom. “And here I thought I was just crazy, making things fly around. And catch fire.” With a smirk, the pinned fly suddenly burst into a small, but brief, blaze, leaving the chair itself, along with the toothpicks unmarred. “You never miss, huh? Now your name makes sense, Bullseye. I knew it had to be more than just that beauty mark you got there.”

The change in stance was interesting and that little difference was what caught and kept Typhoid’s attention. She took in what he was saying, but honestly, even with all the jibber-jabber, Bullseye wasn’t telling much about what this powerful man of Hell’s Kitchen did. She figured that Bullseye was some sort of hitman or something, maybe for some gangster, but why he was living here, that made no sense. “So your boss gives good money? If that’s the case, why are you here and not some place ritzier? You just like the atmosphere?” she asked, trying to see if this was all for real. “I gotta say, it’s real tempting to say yes to all of this. Just before I was let out due to government things, they had some new things they tried out on me. Pills or drugs. It made me harder to be here, so that might actually be why I got kicked out.” She shrugged at that. “Either way, I don’t want to go back there. Not to the white coats and not to the pills.” Typhoid was quiet for a moment or two, thinking about being dragged back there.

“I got a question though. What exactly would I do for this bossman of yours? I don’t turn tricks, if that’s what you’re thinking. Mary’s still a good girl and she ain’t the type to just give it away. You force her to do that, I come back and I slit your throat, understand? But, if that’s not your plan, what is? I’m not exactly a hired gun. Psych wards don’t teach that sort of thing.” Outside of her dad, they had never been involved in someone's death. But then again, you didn’t really need training to beat the living tar out of someone, nor did you need it to handle a blade. With her mind powers, it could make things easy. “Tell you what,” she said, getting up from the chair. “You get me that apartment and you stay on Mary’s good side, I’ll meet with this boss of yours. Make sure he’s on the level. But if I think something’s funny, I walk and you don’t follow. Got it, cue ball?” Normally, she wouldn’t have given him a new nickname, since she liked the guy just a little, but Typhoid wanted to see just how much of a rise she could get out of him, if anything. She hoped he was the kind to keep his cool, because she just now discovered that she might have a thing for Irish bad boys. Might.

Oh, she was both extremely sheltered and young. The doctors at the institution refused to label her with names like ‘gifted’ or ‘mutant’. As far as they were concerned, she had to accept her mental instability before they would move onto the secondary concern or whether or not she had powers.

Typhoid had never seen that much money before and she certain never expected for a man like Bullseye to have it, let alone have it in a wall safe of all places. He must not trust banks or anyone else to handle his money. “Shit,” was all she could manage to say. Of course, she didn’t think that she’d be making that much right off the bat, but if she could get away with just ten percent of what he raked in? Essentially, Typhoid kept staring at those greenbacks until he closed the safe back up and replaced the picture. Only then was the spell broken.

“Why would you do that? Nobody’s the type to keep me out of trouble,” she asked him. “Are you suddenly sweet on me? After just one kiss?” She chuckled at that. “You know, they have a thing for that. They got a thing for everything, probably. I think they call it White Knight Syndrome. You go around saving everyone, or just the ones who kiss good?” she asked with a grin. If Bullseye could show her the ropes, that’d be nice. Plus, he could probably hook her up with a few other things a mercenary needed, like weapons. She could only do so much with what she had right now, which was essentially just her powers. The problem would be how to explain all of this to little Mary. Typhoid and Bullseye would have to work something out. Or she could just keep her in the dark about all of this. “What if I get the gig, he comes calling and he finds Mary instead of me? How do we go about that? You willing to tell your boss about the whole package?”

It was then that Bullseye got up and left the apartment. How he was aware that the landlord was out there, Typhoid had no clue. Then he did something entirely unexpected to Typhoid; point her out and introduce her as Mary, a person which she was clearly not nor would ever be. That abruptness was enough to send the sound woman into an unexpected panic and momentarily blackout. To the outside viewer, it wouldn’t look like much, other than her briefly spacing out.

Mary gasped as she suddenly was aware of Mr. Bullseye pointing her out to an older man. What had happened? Had she done something? Was he turning her in? She was further back in his apartment, sitting in a chair, and it was clear that a time slip or something had happened. But then the landlord simply shrugged and gave her a key. Mary hoped she didn’t look too terribly confused by all of this despite the plain and simple fact that she was. Once the man was gone, Mary got out of the chair and ran up to Bullseye. “What did you do? What did I do? How did I…?” She went back to the chair and picked up the key. She had a place to stay. She wouldn’t need to worry about that now, or not until the rent was due. But, surely she could find a job by then.

Looking back at Bullseye, she simply shook her head. “I don’t have anything. The people at the institute… they don’t give you much when you leave. It was one of the nurses that gave me this extra set of clothes and some money. She was nice to me, saying that none of this was my fault. So no, I don’t have furniture to move in with.”

Truthfully, Mary didn’t exactly believe Bullseye when he said she just looked faint. She had experienced her blackouts enough times that she knew when they were coming and, as far as she knew, practically nothing could stop their onset. it was just something that happened. She was also an observant girl who saw the immediate shift in his personality when she came back to her senses. She may be the sweet and innocent type, but she was not stupid. So what exactly had he seen, she wondered.

When he returned with the water, Mary decided that she didn’t care what he had seen. He hadn’t run away, nor had he called the authorities on her. He was continuing to be gentlemanly towards her which was nice of him. Accepting the glass, Mary gave him a long look. “I’m fine, Mr. Bullseye. Thank you for the water and for helping me get the apartment. I will make sure to pay you back in some way.” How she could do the, she wasn’t exactly sure at the moment, but perhaps once she was settled, she could get him something nice for his own place, or help keep it tidy and more like a home, rather than just a place to sleep in. Looking at the bare walls, Mary decided that he needed some art. One of the things she actually excelled at while in the institution was sketching and drawing. While they didn’t provide much in the terms of paints, the pastels they had were enough to give her some talent in color. So, that was what she planed to do; provide him with one or two pieces of art, though of just what exactly, she wasn’t sure quite yet.

Upon hearing him insist on buying furniture for her and paying her rent until a job could be found, Mary began to protest. He surely couldn’t afford that. But before she could voice her opinion, a small voice in the back of her head calmed a reassured her. He clearly had a steady income despite his appearance, so why look a gift horse in the mouth? Thinking better of the situation, Mary squashed any worries or fears she had and took his hand. “I would love to go shopping with you. Thank you for being so nice and generous to me. I will find a way to pay you back, I promise. And I will not take no for an answer,” she said with a smile. Behind Mary's eyes, in her own little corner of the girl's head, Typhoid smirked.

It was tempting to look around in the apartment while Bullseye changed. Mary was, by nature, a curious and inquisitive girl, but she also knew that to do such a thing would be considered rather rude, nor was she about to eat anything of his. It wasn't that she didn't trust him, but Bullseye had done enough by getting her a place to stay. She didn’t want to take further advantage and eat him out of house and home. However, if Typhoid were the one still in charge, she’d have gone straight for another beer, even if he hadn’t given permission to do so. She had the feeling that she could get away with a lot when it came to this Irish rogue.

The wall safe with all of that money…. at least Mary thought it was all money. She had only managed to catch a glimpse, but from what she had seen, there was quite a bit. It made her wonder why he lived here, and then she got a severe case of deja vu. It happened sometimes after her blackouts, which just proved it all the more that she had gone through another one of her episodes. Sighing, Mary figured it was best that she not bring up the money at all. Perhaps Bullseye had come into a large inheritance and had not yet decided what to do with the money or where he would move to. Yes, that seemed the most likely story for all of this, or it was just what she decided to accept.Inside her head, Typhoid just laughed. She was too innocent and naive, it was almost made her want to be sick.

Mary’s smile met his and she slid over to him, gently taking his arm. For some reason, she was no longer afraid of this man, though she couldn’t say why. “I’m certainly ready to go,” she answered him as she put her apartment key into her purse. “Thank you. I really misjudged you, Mr. Bullseye.”

Mary tried not to eavesdrop on the conversation Bullseye, though she did worry they would have to call off the shopping trip. Naturally, she’d understand if that sort of things happened. If he had work he needed attending to, if his boss wanted him to come in and work and extra shift, he had every right to call this little excursion off. She was happy simply having a roof over her head at the moment.

Typhoid, on the other hand, eagerly watched Bullseye from behind Mary’s eyes. That was the funny thing about their relationship. she knew everything that went on in Mary’s life while the innocent little thing was mostly, if not completely oblivious to her existence. Either that or she was just naive and dumb. Typhoid wondered just what sort of business was calling him. He’s out of town could mean a lot of people and neither she nor Mary were on top of the Who’s Who of New York. But, if ‘recon’ and ‘waiting for the word’ meant what she thought it meant, her little Irish boy would be having a fun time pretty soon, and she wanted in on this action. Maybe she’d visit him later tonight, once Mary had gone to bed.

Starting tomorrow? “If I’m making you miss out on doing extra work for your boss, we can go shopping later,” Mary told him. “I don’t want you to be fired.” Oh, the innocence on this one was amazing. Thankfully, when he explained the situation somewhat, Mary started to understand. “A war zone?” Just what kind of man was this…. a light blinked on in Mary’s head. Large amounts of money in a wall safe, odd-looking scar, and a history of violence. Normally Mary wasn’t this stupid, normally she put the pieces of puzzles together rather quickly, but for some reason, she didn’t want to accept what sort of man Bullseye was and what sort of people he worked for. “I’m not going to ask you who you work for. I know better than that. I know Hell’s Kitchen isn’t the best sort of place to live, but it’s what I can afford and I’m not about to toss the gift of an apartment back in your face. I just hope that whatever sort of trouble you are about to start or finish, I don’t want either of us to get hurt.” It was a coward’s way of asking that Mary didn’t get caught in the crossfire. Typhoid, though, was ready for action. She’d most certainly be visiting him tonight. “But, I think you’re right. I think I need furniture and food, just in case things get bad.”