2019-04-12 - Glowing Snakes In The Night Club


Deadpool follows a lead on missing child, Brian Freeman, that takes him to a Nightclub run by the Denim Crows.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Fri Apr 12 23:51:00 2019
Location: 7 East 3rd Street

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Theme Song



"You want a hand job or a blow job?"


"I don't do that."

"I'm not talking about that, either."

Cindy stares at Deadpool for a long moment, a tired expression upon her painted eyes. "Look, I ain't pegging you, and I'm not into kink shit. I either tug you off, or I suck you off, and I don't sw-"

"Sh sh sh sh sh!" Deadpool quickly shushes the lady of the night, who's name probably isn't even Cindy. "All I need is one hour of your time. Trust me, you don't even have to give me a kiss. One hour."

Cindy rolls her eyes and walks over to the man, hooking her arm under his. "Fine. One hour."

"Great," sings Deadpool, and actually leaps upward and taps his heels together. "We're gonna have /so much fun/, Candy."


"Whatever. I'm gonna get us an Uber. Or should I go with Lyft?" He lifts a hand, touching a masked chin, before nodding swiftly. "This is /definitely/ Uber territory."

Twenty minutes later, an Uber is pulling up to a spot where one of Wade's drug dealers is located. He's already set up the deal, supposedly in the market for an eight ball of cocaine. Hopping out of the car, he skips around to the other side so that he can open Cindy's door. "He's a supa freak! Supa freak! He's supa freakaaaaay," he sings, while popping open the door. "Alright, Chelsea-"

"… CINDY."

"- all you gotta do is tag along, and don't say anything. Just… look pretty. In a totally 'this is gonna be all about hookers and blow' kind of way." With the prostitute at his side, he strolls up toward the door, smiling jovially beneath a red mask, and taps the doorbell with unnecessary flair.

The Uber arrives at Club Nightshade, a seedy joint on the outskirts of The Bowery. There's the normal sort of doff doff sounds coming from the inside. The paint on the door is cracked and peeling and on the street out the front, leather clad bikers loiter.

Candy, errr Cindy rather, gets a shrill whistle or two as she follows Deadpool into the Club. "Wooo Mama … when you're done with this guy… look me up…" One of the guys calls out as they pass through the door.

Inside, the lights are low and the band is pumping. Well, DJ. Who has bands these days, anyway? At a table to the right, Deadpool's target sits - Damian Espena. Lord of the Club and, rumour has it, one of the leaders for the Denim Crow.

Damian looks up as Candy enters, giving an upnod to Enrique Vasquez, one of the bouncers by the door. The pair have got the bosses attention.

Inside, Damian appears to be talking to a shave heaaded man, no more than 30, with elaborate tattoos covering the back and top of his head. Hard to tell what they are from a distance but they're VERY extensive, somewhat abstract and they go down his back. Which is a bit odd becuase he looks out of place - he's wearing more normal clothes and not the heavy leather of the bikers - and he's a bit… pale. Like he doesn't get much sun.

His eyes - a vivid green visible even from across the room - swing up as Deadpool arrives. But he doesn't seem to say anything.

"Maybe I should have worn my leathers," Deadpool tells Cindy. He did, at the very least, leave his guns and katanas in the Uber. No way he was getting into this place packing so much heat.

"Watch it, Harley," he tells the catcaller. "She's mine for at least forty minutes!"

Head angled to the right, he eyeballs Damian Espena's table for a moment, before turning toward the bouncer. "Hi," he says, sounding intimidated. "This is Jessica."


Up comes a hand, fingers are snapped, and Deadpool harshly shushes the girl. "Shh! You are here to learn, not to talk." He turns toward the bouncer, grinning behind the mask. "Patrick Stewart, stoned out of his mind. It's on YouTube, you should watch it."


The bouncer eyes Deadpool and rolls his eyes. Another kinkster, it seems. They see plenty of them in and out of the Club after all. "Boss wants to see you." He gestures, leading the pair over to the table.

Damian sits there, drinking from a tumbler, eyeing the leather clad man … or rather Candy, err Cindy errr Jessica, appreciatively. "Might I commend your taste in ladies… "

It's a good way to get into clubs, really. Put a pretty lady on your arm, even if they are … prostitutes.

"What do you say, Giovanni? Ever seen Patrick Stewart, stoned?"

"If I say yes will that spare me having to look it up on someone's phone?" Giovanni says. Apparently Giovanni is the guy with the elaborate tattoos and also the really heavy eye shadow. Kind of gives him a sunken look which only plays off his pallid complexion.

"Charmed." He says to Cindy. Jessica. Whomever.

He's probably not really charmed. "One of your customers, I take it, Damian?" Clearly he's not expecting Deadpool to be here long.

Oh if only he knew.


"La dama es bonita, y tambien lo es el chocho." Deadpool kisses his fingers and flicks the invisible kiss off into the air.

Subtitle: The lady is pretty, and so is the pussy.

At mention of the Patrick Stewart clip, the supposed kinkster laughs aloud. "It's so fucking funny," he says between laughs. "Like who knew Captain Picard likes to smoke on the Devil's Lettuce?" His hand falls on the table, and he shakes his head at Giovanni. "Really, you gotta see it. Seriously, I'll pull it up, while, you know, Hombre Espena and I do de bizuhness." Out from a pouch on his belt comes a cell phone, and he gets to tapping away. "So, you got my message, huh? Jessica and I are lookin' to paaaaaaaaaaarty."

While removing the phone, there's a very real chance that a blade came with it, and was slipped beneath the table into his other hand by way of some well practiced deception.

Damian snorts at the phrasing still eyeing the girl as she stands there. "Might be. Don't know yet, Gio. Depends on if he has the money and the cahones." The mans voice is gravelly, like he's drunk too much all his life. Probably has.

"I got your message. You want some blow and hardware and seem to think that I'm the one you can get it from." In comparison to Giovanni, Damians eyes are pale as they watch the phone as it comes out.

"Price is $30K a kilo. Hardware varies. What are you looking for, exactly?"

He doesn't seem to be worried that this might be a cop. Why should he? The Crows own this area.

Giovanni just folds his arms but if Deadpool - or Cindy - is alert they might notice the really odd way his hands come to rest. It's kind of an uncomfortable crossing of the fingers and the sounds go ever so slightly muted around them. Perception? Coincidence?

"This won't affect any of our business I trust, Damian?" It shouldn't really. Well it might becasue Deadpool is Deadpool but if he actually WERE just here to by drugs and hardware it would be fine.

But then, Deadpool.


"Oh, just an eight ball. Maybe two?" He turns to eyeball Cindy, speculatively. "Yeah, let's go with two. I don't… really need hardware. Not my thing? Is that okay? Cindy, sit down… the creeps down there keep eyeballing your badonkadonk."

Turning back to Damian, he sighs. "There's just… there's just this one thing, and I'm really sorry, but… it's about the money." The cell phone comes to rest on the table, with YouTube pulled up. "Don't worry, I'm not jerking you over. It's in a baggie." He pauses, staring blankly at the others, before taking a deep breath, as if he's about to say something embarrassing.

"…. in my ass."

Breathing a sigh of relief, he chuckles nervously. "We met on FetLife, and it's… well it's… I mean, you know." A pause. "Do I have to buy hardware to get girl too? And let me be clear, I want soft, not hard."


Damian glances at Gio when his arms cross and the faintest of concerns cross his face. "Our business won't be affected. We've got your goods, they're not here but you can collect them when you're ready. The sooner the better, they need regular feeding." Not drugs or hardware clearly.

And yes the beats seem to be a fair bit quieter. What just happened?

"She's got a nice badonkadonk. Let her show it off. What's it to you if she does?" There's a look of annoyance on his face as the leather clad … man … mentions problem with the money. "In your … there's a bathroom…" Not such a problem, it seems.

"OK then, no hardware. How much girl do you want?"

"Business might pick up for her." Giovanni agrees though he keeps that weird handed pose. The revelation that Deadpool is allegedly hiding cash in his - ahem - body cavity gets a quirked brow and a slight roll of the eyes.

"You should invest in some microwave scanners at the door. For security. And you could upload the images to a website about the things people do for a score." He tells Damian. "Tell me, Mister… I'm sorry what was your name again? Did you bring her to assist with this process?"


"I told you. Two eight balls." Deadpool eyeballs Damian for a moment, before glancing toward Giovanni. "My name's Wade. She's here to test the goods for me. Come on, I'm no idiot." He looks back to Damian. "You've got a good reputation, but I gotta make sure it ain't baking soda cut with Tylenol. Or worse, fentanyl. Oh! Patrick Stewart."

The phone ends up in his hand again, only when he pulls up a video, it isn't the viral video of Sir Patrick stoned and reciting the quadruple take. Instead, it's a local news page and a video about one missing five year old boy by the name of Brian Freeman.

"Oops. That's not it."


"So you did. I was admiring your … ladies … assets." Damian shrugs noncommittally, eyes sliding to Cindy when Deadpool says she's going to test the product.

"Two hundred then, paid upfro-" his eyes widen slightly at the news page and the clip that's playing. There's a picture of the boy and the reward is mentioned. "-nt." he finishes. Maybe Deadpool won't notice the pause.

"Gio, why don't go see Enrique and tell him you're ready to collect your … goods."

Giovanni gives Deadpool a look and then nods, starting to slide past him. As his hands break that odd pose the noise levels go back to normal. Very strange. The shave headed man is moving with quite a purpose. And if anyone looks…

… well… is one of those odd tattoos on the back of his head glowing? For just a second? Maybe not. Trick of the light.

Cindy seems incredibly uncomfortable by all of this, but she realizes that she's in to deep to get out. "Funny thing, about that," he says, glancing at the video. "Ten grand? That's a good paycheck." He mock sighs. "If only." He turns to watch as Giovanni slips away, and the mask actually follows the motion of his left eyebrow as it cocks up into the air.

"Well, now that Number Two is gone," he says, and slides the phone around to Damian. "Time for you to tell me what you know about Brian, asshat." His other hand rises from beneath the table, and the dastardly switchblade is produced in such a way that Damian will surely see it, but the rest of the club… well, probably not, unless someone else is watching the table.

"The kid's location or your nuts. Right here, in front of everyone." He leans forward just so. "You know how hard it'll be running an operation like this with no fucking cajones?"


Poor Cindy is forgotten as Damian focusses on Deadpool seeming to realise that this is going to bad real so—— Now.

"Ten grand gets you a lotta girl, sure." The club boss murmurs. "Can't we do a deal? I'll pay you that and more in soft." He's scooched back in his chair, hips pressing against the back as he tries to avoid that switchblade.

For all that though, he doesn't seem to concerned. He's in his club, after all. "Do you think my people will let you take my cajones?"

With Giovanni gone, the sound rises again. Deadpool can hear the bouncers coming near.


The lights in the place seem to dim even more and something crawls at the edge of Deadpool's vision. He can see what looks like snakes coming out from under the tables. Sort of like snakes but really elongated bits of inky blackness that slither and crawl towards him. Those are decidedly not natural. Behind the bouncers Giovanni flicks his fingers and smirks. He even blows Cindy a kiss. And then he's out the door.

But those damned snakes, those remain, closing in. Slower than a real snake might. Almost as if they're trying to box the Merc with a Mouth in…


"Oooooohh I'm gonna get 'em, handsome," Deadpool promises. He can hear the bouncers coming, but the creepy dimming and the even creeper snakes are far more exciting. "Cindy, ladies room." He turns his head to the woman. "Now!"

The chair upon which Deadpool was seated in is suddenly kicked out from beneath. He leaps into the air in an acrobatic manner, spinning around with blade in hand. No playing nice here! The blade is aimed to make a slice right through the bouncers' necks.

With a shriek, Cindy scampers away, clutching her purse and surprisingly agile despite the five inch stilettos.


There are … glowing snakes in the Club. Clearly Damian, or his bouncers, hadn't expected that. Nor the dimming of the lights.

The guests that are there start to scream and flee. Soon there's a block at the door and they try to get out.

The first bouncer stutters on his way across the floor, Deadpools blade cuts cleanly and he makes a sort of gurgling sound, taking a few more steps before collapsing.

The other two recover quickly enough,deciding that getting close probably isn't the thing to do. They just open up with Uzi's.

A fourth bouncer makes his to Damian, intent on escorting his boss out.

Cindy is caught by one of the barmaids and dragged to safety. Maybe there's a bit of honour amongst thieves.


The snakes are going to be a problem. They've stopped crawling out of the woodwork at least, but there has to be a hundred of them, each three feet long if they're an inch and now finishing a circle of Deadpool and swarming up toward him. They have heads but no visible mouths and as they close it gets COLD. Frost starts to creep up things. It is possibly not a good idea to let himself be touched. He might well survive, he IS Deadpool after all, but… this could be bad all the same. They're close enough now that there's little room to move around now without stepping on not-snakes. The ones in the back start to coil. They're going to lunge or possible 'leap' if Deadpool isn't quick about things.

Oh, and also he's being shot at.


"No no wa-!"

Deadpool leaps aside and is caught by a smattering of gunfire. He falls to the ground, bleeding… for a few seconds. However, his eyes are upon Damian, and those creepy snakes and… is it getting cold in here?

The blade is suddenly flung toward bouncer number two, and it's aimed with hairpin accuracy at the fellow's groin. "Surprise!" he cries, then kicks himself forward into a handstand. Legs swirl around and lock around the third bouncer's neck, and with a bodily motion he tries to use his own weight and momentum to snap the bouncer's neck. Which, if it works, means… stolen Uzi time!

"So classic!" Gloved hands secure the weapon. "Very Columbian!" He eyeballs the snakes now circling him, ignoring bouncer #2 for a moment who wasn't delivered a lethal blow. Not exactly. "Say hello to my little friend?" he tries, before unloading on the snakes closest to him.

"Aaaarrrghhhh" That is not a manly wail that leaves the second bouncers mouth. Why would it be? There's a knife stick out of his groin. He's thinking that must have a lucky shot from the Merc. No one can be that good can they?

The third bouncer just sort of boggles as the Merc gets up. They emptied enough into him, he should be swiss cheese. Uh, he is swiss cheese but … he's getting better? His neck snaps loudly, the body collapsing to the ground, still twitching, eyes lifeless.

And yes. Stolen Uzi time for Deadpool. What could possibly go wrong?

Damian and his bodyguard are stuck at the moment trying to get out the back. There's people in front of them and each time one is thrown out of the way, another two replace them.


The snakes are not very resilient, it seems. Even a snigle hit is enough to disperse in puffs of oily black smoke. Deadpool takes out a couple dozen of them before he's out of ammo. Unfortunately by that point they're close enough to touch him and yes! They're cold. Could enough to freeze flesh. Of course any smack will get rid of them but there's still a few dozen of the things. Maybe if he rolled around a bunch…

Deadpool, however, is never out of options!

He's counting down, and knows within a few rounds just how long he's got before the ammo runs out. "Asps!" he shouts between bursts of gunfire. "Very dangerous!" When one of them touches his leg, he hisses, flesh frozen.

"You go first." The screaming bouncer-turned-Eunich is grabbed by one hand, the dead one by the other. Then, with a grunt, Deadpool hefts one of them onto the floor, falling on top of them with the other body being drug along above him. The first one lands on the snakes, and then the other one is flung over, essentially becoming tires of a sort where Deadpool himself is the rim.

Anything he can do to keep from becoming the unfortunate plot element for Frozen 3.

And it's a Deadpool and body wagon wheel, bearing down on Damian and his bodyguard.

There's calamity in the club now - not like there wasn't before. People are running from snakes, bouncers are flip flopping around and the lights … well the lights are low.

That could almost be the lyrics to a song. A bad one.

Damians bodyguard shoves the gang leader behind him, raises his gun and squeezes the trigger. He doesn't have a lot of ammo left either and he's not quite quick enough to avoid the wheel as it comes at him.

Down he goes. Leaving Damian just sort of standing there. "Hey hey, man. Are you sure we can't do a deal?"

The flopping about gets pretty much all of the rest of the snakes. The man responsible for their appearance, Giovanni, appears to be long gone and much less interested in what happens to Damian.

Which is real unfortunate for Damian, really.

Up from the floor comes Deadpool, with what appears to be a half frozen leg from the ankle halfway up his shin. "No, Howie Mandel, no fucking deal."

Grabbing Damian by the scruff of his neck, he starts hauling him off toward the back rooms. You know, those places where, past the restroom doors and the door to the kitchen there's another door that no one goes through? That room.

Of course, he's half dragging his own foot in the process, which becomes an irritation. So, once they get to that room, Deadpool throws Damian inside, then stomps on his own leg, causing the frozen part to shatter into pieces on the floor. "WHOA HOA HOOOOAAAAOOOW! That smarts!" Into the room he limps, growling a bit. "God dammit, I hate frostbite!"


Damian shrieks a little bit when he's grabbed, gawking at Deadpool like he's a … well, a mutant. He hangs from the Mercs hand like a dishevelled puppy. He's never go to live this down.

Grunting as he's thrown into the room, the once cool and collected Club owner, backs right up, yelping when the leg shatters "What the fuck, man? Who … You wanna know about the kid … "

Yeah, he's not going to play around.

"I'll tell ya everything…"

"No, I wanna know who won on Jeopardy last night," Deadpool mocks in a retarded voice, before becoming himself again. "I wanna know where he is, why he's there, and what you dirty fuckers have to do with it." He limps closer, though the wounded leg already seems to be healing up, and fresh (albeit gnarly) skin is visible through the bullet holes in his suit.

"And if you're really nice and tell me what was up with your creepy friend and his Elsa snakes, I'll spare your cajones, comprende?"


"Harry Treopois won Jeopardy last night." Damian answers automatically, his eyes going wide as he realises he has and for the fact that Deadpools leg is healing.

"What the fuck are you man?" beat "Ahhhhh. Giovanni? He's … If I tell you I'm dead … The brat though, you can find him in our warehouse, Pier 40. Hell, I'll contact them and tell them to just hand him over."

Anything to avoid more of this.

"Again??" cries Deadpool. "That's such bullshit! Suzie Jones is MUCH smarter!" The information, still, is committed to memory. He takes a few steps closer, still limping on that bum leg. "Me? I'm Captain Deadpool. And you." He pokes at Damian's shoulder. "You're gonna tell me why you did it. Or else I'm gonna pull out what's really hidden up my ass, and you're not gonna like it. Especially if the pin got stuck up there, and…" He shimmies his hips a bit. "… I think it did."


Damian blinks. "No she's not." then realises that he's arguing with a madman. "Uh. Yeah, sure, she is."

He gulps as the Merc does that shimmie. Does he really have a grenade stuck up his … Damian prefers not to think on it.

"Uh … the kid is for him. He's going to collect to him. Don't ask me for what, I don't know. But he knows you're here man and he wants the brat. You'll have to hurry if you want to save him."

Is that true? Or does he just want to get out of here.

"Fuck!" Deadpool spits. "You mean the creepy snake guy??" He straightens and backpedals. "Lucky day, pal, but I'm gonna have to borrow this." He reaches into a desk nearby, and pulls out a big bag of cocaine. "I'll bring back what I don't use. Promise!"

Finally leaving poor Damian be, the Merc with a Mouth trundles off toward the door. "I swear, if that damn Uber driver didn't wait for me…"

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