Summary:Wade and Gwen share a walk on the beach after leaving the Freeman’s in the X-Men’s care. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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So, the X-Men have safehouses, which is a good thing. Wade Wilson is no idiot, and even though he wants nothing to do with Charles Xavier's little tea party, he does want to see the boy and his family protected. The farther he is from that monstrosity of white privileg- errr, from that mansion in upstate New York, the better.
Deadpool saw it through to a point. However, as soon as the Freeman family were secured, he took off. This particular safehouse isn't far from the rocky beaches of South Oyster Bay, which is where the costumed mercenary is headed, some time in the middle of the night. He can't be sure if Spider-Gwen followed him, but he did promise to help her get home. Long Island's no joke and it would be a long night/morning of web swinging for the gal.
Oh, Gwen followed. She has no idea where she, except for using GPS on her phone. And that's a LONG WAY HOME. So South Oyster Bay sounds good enough to her. Catching up to Deadpool, she calls out, "We need to get one of those birds, seriously. Cause woosh, was that a smooth flight… Do they sell those at Costco, y'think?"
Looking back, Deadpool laughs! "Oh yeah, but it's in the super secret section," he tells her coyly. "We're gonna have to rescue a lot more kids and bag a lot more money to afford one of those bad boys." There's a pause. "Unless you wanna steal a plane from the X-Men." It's hard to tell at first whether he's joking.
"I dunno, I betcha anything the X-men don't like it when people steal their planes. But I mean, whatever you want. I'm a prude, but I'm easily persuaded." She straightens the seams of her gloves as she walks. "Maybe we could find some sort of priceless artifact. And put a price ON it."
"Oh, Colossus would shit a brick!" Deadpool answers through laughter, before pausing to correct himself. "Actually, he'd probably shit an I-Beam or something." A grimace appears beneath the mask. "God, do you think he… no, there's no way." He shakes his head, before stage whispering, "I think he and that Shadowcat person might be… you know." He makes a circle with two fingers, then inserts the index finger of his other hand through said circle a couple times. "Which is crazy, because… well, forget it."
Gwen's idea earns a wicked grin. "Oh, but I don't want to break into MOMA or anything. Where would we go to find a priceless artifact that's… oh." He looks Gwen's way, mischievously as he can (the eyes seem to show emotion even though the mask has them whited out). "The Catholics."
"No, wait. I meant we could find our own. They're usually buried so we could get some shovels and—Omygod what? Colossus and that…little…Oh no. Nooo, really?? How Does THAT work…." The sound of Gwen's grimace is audible. "Like…It's hard /enough/ when…..Noooo….."
"Don't think about it too hard!" Wade answers, a hand moving in a helpful gesture. "Seriously. I don't know if he's always metal like that, but he always is when I'm around… which might be my fault, but still. Seriously, don't think about it, it'll give you nightmares."
He pauses, then perks an eyebrow beneath the mask. "Maybe she's like, super-tough or… no no, bad Deadpool, no no no. Don't."
Taking a deep breath, he goes for another change of subject. "So, archaeology and racketeering, now that's a nice combo." He glances Gwen's way again as they walk along the rocky beach. "Not much of a good fit for you Spider-Types though. You guys have, like, a reputation to uphold or something."
"Wow, metal and about like…" She starts, but drops her hands to her sides before measuring an approximation. "Sure, drop a bomb like that, and then expect me not to think about it…" She sighs, shaking her head. "But there isn't anything wrong with finding stuff and selling it, right? I mean it isn't like there is a lost and found for people from a million years ago to rummage through…." Spidergwen offers, hedging on the side that the money's on.
"Sorry. No really, I'm sorry." Because now Wade is thinking about it, and he does NOT want to think about it, even though a part of him DOES want to think about it. It's tough being insane.
"I guess the real trick is, ya know… finding it." He glances sidelong toward Spidergwen. "I wouldn't have the first idea where to start. Guess I'll just stick with what I'm good at."
You know, the whole hired gun, killing bad guys, occasionally scaring the piss out of some poor pizza delivery boy stalker, kind of thing.
"I'm find us a treasure map. I bet I can find us a treasure map…" Gwen's determined expression may or may not be audible in her voice. "But seriously, you're not sorry, cause you're STILL thinking about it too. Don't bullshit me, you're waaaay too transparent." Gwen kicks a little pebble ahead with every third step, as she walks.
"Not my type," Wade answers with a smirk to his voice. "Seriously not my type. You're a much better cuddle." He blinks beneath the mask, then eyeballs one of those pebbles she's skipping down the beach. "So, ah, anyway." Is he really that transparent? He glances over toward Spidergwen again, before nodding his head toward the city proper. "Train station's that way," he remarks. "Happy to keep walking, but it's a loooong walk, and I haven't hitched a ride on the top of a train in a minute." A pause. "Or we could ride it like normal people. You know, normal people in costumes like these."
"Oooh, I wanna be on top! I've never ridden on top before!" Gwen takes a little skip-step ahead and turns around to walk backward, facing Deadpool. "You think I'm a good cuddler? I don't cuddle. Like /ever/. I don't even hug. You know, except for that time we cuddled. Because that's different."
She has to make it so hard, doesn't she?
Wade coughs, or was that a choke? It takes great effort, and at the end of the long, two second journey, he utterly fails. "Oh, riding on top is just as fun as being a bottom. Riding on the bottom. On the underneath. The… inside the…" His stammering ends, and he gestures around with his hands. Cuddling is a thing, right? "Yeah, that was different," he says, then jerks a thumb toward the train station. "You can't tell Spider-Man though. Like… I don't want him to turn into Emo-Man. Emo is a terrible genre anyway, and something tells me he loves it."
SpiderGwen's head shakes just the tiniest bit while Wade splutters. She's lost. At first. "Oh! OHHH! I meant on the…" Her finger points toward the train and traces small aerials, as she trails off, clearly distracted. Then there is distracted silence for another brief moment. "Oh, Spidey's got a girlfriend, now. They had a pregnancy scare, but I guess it turned out all right." Gwen nods, still half-distractedly. "Emo /is/ terrible though. I feel like I am the complete opposite of that."
Whatever apology might have been on the tip of his tongue, Wade does a double take instead. "He what?" the masked man exclaims. "You're kidding me!" The mere thought of it all has Wade giddy with excitement. Sure, he doesn't know Spider-Man well, but THIS juicy bit of information is going to give him joke material for days.
FOR DAYS.
"I'll take the classics, any day. You won't get a better time period than the 70's. Or the 80's. Or the 90's. The late sixties count, I guess, but… no, I'd rather shove another grenade - no, ten grenades up my ass and pull every pin at the same time than listen to emo."
A pause.
"Actually, I guess emo isn't really that bad." He turns and heads for the train station now, and as he does, he reaches to hook his arm with Spidergwen's should she let him, and actually starts to skip.
Gwen actually giggles and takes Deadpool's arm, keeping up with his skipping pace. "I think it embarrasses him to talk about it, though. The girl isn't! I don't think anything could ever embarrass her, though. Get this…she's another Spider chick! Kinda crazy. It's getting crowded in that pool, so I am sorta just backing out slowly. Giving them privacy. And I'm kind of a loner, too. So…at least I mean, nothin will make him emo, right?"
"Holy…" Deadpool starts to say. "I bet that's some kinky sex." He's just gonna go right out and say it. Everyone else is thinking it, after all, even if they don't want to admit it. "Everyone's always so secretive. I guess I get it. Not everyone is immortal. But this is why I don't make a lot of friends. Friends are a liability." He pauses, then adds, "Unless your friends can handle their own." With his other hand, he mocks shooting webs from his wrists, complete with a *thwip thwip!* noise.
As they come upon the train station, he eyeballs it dubiously. "Okay, so," he whispers, "We gotta get up top, maybe over there," he points to the roof that covers the platform. "Then jump aboard when the next train rolls through." He looks to Spidergwen then, eye-sockets wide. "Can you believe what MTA charges for commuter trains these days?"
"I wouldn't know! I've never ridden at all. Not on top. Not on bottom. Not inside the…." She trails off where Deadpool did. "But I can guarantee you it's more cash than I have on me, cause seriously, I couldn't even buy a soda, much less a ticket. But whoa yeah, seriously… I'm sure it's all kinky. He strikes me as that type, really." As they approach the platform, Gwen is examining the surroundings, and looks up at the roof. "You strike me as even more so, though. Want a lift up to the roof?"
Wait, did she just…
Deadpool grimaces behind the mask. No, Deadpool, you can't. Yes, Deadpool, you can. No, it's wrong. But is it though? "You've never…" He squints at Spidergwen, the white eyesockets following suit. "How old are you??"
It's a confusing thing for him, which is why he worries. The brain injuries prevent him from really remembering sometimes when he was born, or how many years he's been alive, and well… he's always gonna look the same, ugly way, regardless of how old or young he gets. It's a legitimate concern, and he's not so far gone so as to ignore it.
"Um," he observes, then shrugs. "I'll try anything twice!" Then he unlinks himself from her arm and nods. "Sure, but only because I totally want you to web me again."
"I'm twenty-five," she replies to Deadpool as she thwips out a web to the roof. "I've been busy!" she whines at his incredulous and shocked maskface. "Climb on my back, I'll pull us up!"
"Okay, so, I'm definitely older than 20, and I'm pretty sure I'm under 40, but I also remember watching MTV in the 80's. Or was it the 90's? Maybe both, so, I really don't know." Deadpool just stares at the girl when she defends that she's been too busy. "Okay, that's just… tragic. You really should rearrange your priorities. Missing out on one of life's finest…" Climb on my back. She really has no idea, does she? Wade grimaces once again, then does as he's told. "Okay!" he says in a sing-song voice, then hops up onto Spidergwen's back, wrapping his legs around her waist and his arms around her shoulders. "Go easy on me, I'm recovering from a hemicorporectomy!"
SpiderGwen holds the web and practically walks right up the side of the building, giving a little jerk on the web to launch them up and over the top edge of the roof, so she's standing on the roof, wearing a Deadpool backpack. "There we go!" She is, however, suddenly pink enough to match her costume. "I will. I just don't trust people, most of the time. It's fine. I'm just like…y'….y'know…." Stammering. That's what she is.
"Whee!!!" Deadpool cries out as she scales the wall, then yelps a bit when they go vaulting over the top. "Oof!" He then looks down at the spider-gal, and reaches out to pat the top of her masked head twice. "Oh, I don't trust anyone. Not really." He finally lets go of her and drops to the rooftop with a pair of thudding footfalls. One could practically imagine the Demonpool on one shoulder and the Angelpool on the other. Wade's half tempted to take some acid, right here and right now, simply so that he might make both come to actual life. Another time, maybe.
Approaching the edge of the rooftop, he sits down crosslegged and looks at the bright sign that announces the next train's ETA. "Five minutes, not bad!" he says, before turning to look Spidergwen's way. "Listen I'm, uh, sorry for, you know." He waves a hand around. "Talking about it. I'll stop. Don't wanna make you uncomfortable, really."
"It's fine! Dude, you're just all up front. No question marks. Nothin to worry about. I don't have to guess what you're really thinking, cause you'll just say it by the time I've decided!" Spidergwen moves over to sit beside Deadpool, watching that arrival sign. "Looks like we made it just in time! How…long is the trip, by top of train?" she asks, as if it is somehow different from the length of the trip inside the train.
Beneath the mask, Wade laughs. "Well at least you aren't over sensitive and pissy about, you know, me being me!" That is comforting, at least. Too many times people get all weird about him being the way he is, and he knows this. It's probably why he gravitates toward people who don't hate him from day one. "Oh, I have no idea," he says after she sits down next to him. "Can't be too long, these are commuter trains and it's like, what…. three in the morning? I'll bet we zip right into Brooklyn before we know it."
"Fair enough!" Gwen pauses to look at Deadpool seriously. Though the serious might not come through, what with the wide, vacant eye lenses. "Well, anybody who doesn't accept ya for who you are isn't worth your time, anyway. Life's too short to put any stock in them, and ours may be wayyyy too long to pretend you're something you're not. I think you're pretty awesome, just the way you are. And age? Pfft…Age is a number. I don't think I've aged since I got…this way….Hard to say if I ever will. But ya gotta just be the age ya feel, right?"
Wade remains silent enough to listen to what she has to say. The thought of life being too long, well… it's been on his mind lately. When they first met, he'd told Gwen that he'd tried to blow his own brains out, and after encountering Plokta's snake-handling servant, he tried it again. To no avail, of course. What's the one thing he wishes he could have? The one thing his heart really desires? It's that he could die. Not necessarily today or tomorrow, but… he knows that he's going to see anyone he really cares about die. All of them. He'll have to go through it all, unless he just keeps things at arms length, or never allows himself to really feel for anyone, or, you know, finds a way to die first.
Reaching out, he'll try to take Gwen's hand. He won't force the issue or anything, but he will try to hold it, to intertwine his fingers with hers, gloves and all. As much as he doesn't want to feel a thing, it's unrealistic for someone to not want to feel. It goes against basic human psychology; another of many reasons the man is so unhinged. "Maybe I want us both to become real uncomfortable right now," he tells her quietly, while hoping the damn train is actually late, like it always is.
Gwen looks down at her hand in his, as the fingers entwine. "I…I think I'm okay with this level of uncomfortable," she replies, giving his hand a squeeze with hers. "Comfort zones are only good for so much, after all. After that, they just start to get in the way…"
Wade's chest visibly rises and falls, as if he were breathing a sigh of relief. "Lot of things get in the way," he answers quietly. "Gotta take some time for yourself, every once in a while." It might seem like Wade's entire life is lived for himself, but there are moments. Moments like these, and what he did for the Freemans. He squeezes her hand in return, and doesn't seem interested in letting go any time soon.
"I might ask you to web me to the train so I don't fall off," he remarks, then glances toward Gwen with a rueful and ornery smirk. Somehow it comes through the mask.
"Oh, I was gonna do that, anyway," Gwen replies mischievously. "Whether ya wanted me to or not. I'm gonna web you /so hard/…" And there's a definitive nod to let him know she means business. Sort of. "I can cling. You are decidedly less clingy."
Wade's sitting cross legged, and that's a problem. He raises one leg and shifts it a little. For reasons unknown. For reasons only he needs to know about. "Ay caramba!" he exclaims, and seems to shudder. "Now I really don't want the train to be late," he says, echoing a counter argument to some internal dialogue from earlier.
As if right on cue, the train's lights come into view, and he all but squiggles in excitement. "You know, the last time I rode on the top of the train, it was not with a hot Spider-Chick. In fact, I don't think there were any Spider-Chicks back then. This is like an early Christmas!"
"Wow, you're in luck, then!" Gwen starts to stand up. "Cause this time you know you won't fall off, for sure!" She giggles, though, and there is some hint of mischief in that giggle. "No…this time you aren't going /anywhere/….except maybe Brooklyn."
Excited, Wade finally lets go of Gwen's hand and stands up, watching as the train approaches. However, when it comes into the station, it doesn't show signs of stopping.
Turning to Gwen, Deadpool's eyes are wide. "It's an express! Or maybe out of service? No, no! There's no one in the station!" He peers over the edge of the rooftop to confirm it, then scrambles back toward Spidergwen. "Jump!"
With a leap, Deadpool crosses the distance and ends up on the moving train. He slips, grips, and rolls, but he's headed for the edge of the train with a short shriek!
SpiderGwen jumps without hesitation, when Deadpool does. "You jump, I jump! Remember?" she calls out, quoting Titanic as she falls toward the train, and instantly clings to it upon landing. She thwips out a web toward Deadpool and jerks him away from the edge, then sploots just a little webbing to secure his behind to the top of the train. Next to her. "There. You're safe, it's cool." She seats herself nonchalantly next to him like it's just Tuesday. Which…indeed it is. "DUDE, we have GOT to get you somethin' grippier than spandex. Good as the spandex looks, of course," she adds.
The Titanic reference isn't lost on Wade, but he's worried that this awesome night is about to be ruined by the wrong kind of splattage. Fortunately, his ass gets webbed to the train. Literally.
"Phew!" he breathes, and struggles a bit only to find his ass firmly stuck in place. His eyes are big and… are they swoonish? Yeah, they're swoonish. "But what if I want to be slippery?" he asks, and wiggles his arms and legs a bit. "Besides, red spandex is cheap, and I can buy it in droves. You realize I get shot at a lot, right? There's… a lot of mending." And his backups. He's not gonna tell her how many Deadpool unitards he owns, or she might think he has a thing.
"Well, stop getting shot. Easy to fix that. Maybe we'll just put some grip strips on you somewhere, I dunno. Besides, maybe I'll be around to keep you from getting shot so many times." She offers a couple more sploots of web to secure him, and she curls her knees up against her chest beside him. "Nothin wrong with using protection."
"Getting shot is my super power though," Wade counters with a wicked smirk. It's true; those who don't know of him or his ridiculously rapid healing factor simply don't expect him to take shots and just keep going.
The goops of webbing cause Wade to squirm a bit, and he finds himself more firmly secured to the top of the train than before. "Well," he offers, "I mean… I always use protection." Which is entirely untrue. After all, he's incapable of contracting disease, for it is pretty much killed upon impact. That's a perk, right there.
Wade turns his upper body to face Gwen and leans upon a cocked arm, while lifting one leg into a comfortable position. "You know, I didn't ask… how long does this stuff, ya know." He wiggles his bum again. "Last?"
"As long as it needs to," Gwen replies. "Don't worry, I'll get you off when we get there."
For a few seconds, Wade just stares through his mask at Spidergwen. "You should know," he tells her. "It's not just my face." Not that she could see his whole body anyway, considering how his costume is designed and, well. Being webbed down. Then, to offset whatever tension there might be, he leans forward and stage whispers, "Super penis."
Wade glances to the camera then, and waves his when as if shooing the audience away. "Go. This is PG-13. Shoo!"