Summary:Deadpool has a surprise in store for Spider-Man… Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
It's been a while since Spider-Gwen and Spider-Man have seen each other, but not long after sunrise, he receives a message from her, about a new spider-person she's discovered. The ask is that they meet at a rooftop in Brooklyn, in a quieter part of town; a particular rooftop that isn't visible from most directions. Privacy is warranted for this one, it would seem. However, should Spider-Man answer the call, he'll find that Gwen is nowhere to be seen. Instead, a small GoPro camera has been set up underneath the hood of a heating system vent, easy to misplace unless one might really be looking for hidden cameras.
Pete was working on his speech for graduation, but a message from Gwen out of the blue was enough to get him into the suit and out on the town. With all the Nightfall business going on, he hadn't sought her out. The last time he did talk to her was when they unmasked for each other, and he wondered if he went too far.
So, now here he is on a rooftop, hoping to see Gwen, but…she's not here. Ohhhkay. He looked around, then called out, "Uhhh…Spider-Woman? I'm here now?" He REALLY hoped this wasn't another trap.
Well, it is. Kind of. Not really.
Spider-Man will hear the sound of an web-shooter echoing off a nearby building. A figure swings in, less than gracefully, dressed in black from head to toe. Black leather… not the kind a superhero would wear, mind you, but the kind one might see in a leather fetish club. The figure is wearing six-inch black leather stilletos, and has a gigantic pair of breasts; long, flowing locks of bright red hair are flowing out of a little hole in the top of the leather mask, and a gigantic pair of red lips have been painted onto the 'mouth hole' of the mask.
"Wheeeeee!!" comes a voice that is clearly male in nature, but has been bumped up into the falsetto range. The figure lands, releasing the webline cast from a pair of webshooters on her (his?) wrists. The landing isn't graceful, and she staggers a bit upon those ridiculous heels, before lifting a hand in a very feminine manner, fingers waggling to Spider-Man.
"Oh my goodness!" the falsetto voice says. "It's you! It really is you!!!" Fangirl moment, anyone?
Spider-Man just STARES. "Who…who are you?" he asks, backing up a step. Or three. The voice is…WAIT. "DEADPOOL?"
"Kassidy, with a K," the figure answers in a saucy manner. "But since I have these powers now, I think I'll go by…" She spins around in a pirouette, then drops to her knees with a leather-clad hand on the ground. Her neck cranes up in a seductive way toward Spider-Man and she draws a deep breath before letting it out.
"Spider-Queen!"
Beneath the mask, Wade is having a really hard time holding it together. A little snickering laugh escapes, and then 'she' rises to her feet and rips the leather mask right off her head, revealing the ugly face of Wade Wilson.
"GOTCHA!!!!"
Spider-Man groans and facepalms. "Laugh it up, Wade…you got me. Was this your idea, Or Spider-Woman's?"
Wade slaps a hand on his leg, laughing boisterously. "Oh! Oh my god! You should have seen the look on your mask!" Still laughing, he trots over toward Spider-Man, grinning big. "It was totally my idea. She lent me these." He shows off the web-shooters. "Guess it was an early design she wasn't using?" He puts a hand on Spider-Man's shoulder, clearly finding the prank absolutely hysterical. "Happy birthday, Spider-Man."
He's got no idea if it's Spider-Man's birthday, of course, but odds are 365-to-1 he's right?
Spider-Man looks at Wade for a few moments, then nods. "Right…well, you're off by a few months, but I suppose I can understand." He sighs, then reaches behind him to pull out a case. "I guess it's a little reverse-gifting for a birthday, but since nothing about this is normal…and that this is for Spider-Woman…"
He hands the case to Wade. "I finished the redesign for her web-shooters. There are the new shooters, based off of her design and with the distilled-water cartridge injectors added. There's ten water cartridges in there, as well. Five for each shooter. Can you make sure she gets them?"
One final laugh is given, this one more of a sigh, before Deadpool steps back to give Spider-Man his personal space. What happens next, though, that he was not expecting. The humor on his face drains away, and he reaches out to accept the box with a quizzical expression.
"You want me to give them to her?" he asks. "No, I heard what you said," he adds, feeling a bit rambly for a moment, before fixing Peter with a serious look. Might come as a surprise there.
"Please don't tell me you guys aren't talking," he says, then looks down to the box again. "I mean, you guys are friends."
Spider-Man shrugs. "Brand-new communication system. Haven't heard a word. I think I scared her off, so I'm just giving her time to sort this all out. If she wants to join us again, she's welcome. We even have a couple of new voices. But I'm not her parents, and I'm sure as heck not her boyfriend. But if she needs us, she knows how to contact us. It's built right into her suit." He smiles ruefully. "Friends don't harass each other. I'm glad she's found someone, though. Even if it is the craziest monkey in the urban jungle."
Wade angles his head a bit as Spider-Man talks, or tries to explain what's going on. He listens though, he doesn't interrupt, he does what a real friend would do. It's hard for even him to understand, but he likes Spider-Man. So once the other is done talking, he sighs.
"You know, I'm pretty sure I'm a few years older than you, buddy," he says. "I really don't know, because I've been shot and stabbed in the head more times than I can remember. My brain heals, but I dunno if it heals right." He shrugs, as if to say 'what can ya do?'. "What I do know is that this shit never gets uncomplicated. Even without special, superhero powers." He smiles easily, and for a moment, Wade seems like the kind of person who might make a really good, loyal friend. Even if he is dressed up like a Drag Queen Dominatrix. "She'll come around."
Tucking the box in closer to his clearly fake, busty chest, Wade makes a promise. "I'll get 'em to her."
Spidey nods. "Someone once asked Abe Lincoln how the North should treat the South after they lost the Civil War. Lincoln replied, 'As if they never left.' And it's the same with Spider-Woman. She always has a place, and she always has friends who will be glad to see her." He looks to the case as he zips the backpack closed. "Thanks for doing this. I'll finally be glad to know she's gotten them."
"History class," Wade says reminiscently, as if he actually remembers being in High School, which… he doesn't. The box gets tucked under arm, and he reaches for the leather mask, sitting it on top of his head. "Listen, you know, if you ever need backup? I know I'm not the 'superhero' type, but…" He sighs. "For you, I'll dial it back. Flesh wounds and dismemberments only, nothing lethal."
The mask gets shoved back over his face, and once it's in place, he (she?) makes a smoochy face, complete with the sound, before turning and flinging a webline at some wall nearby. "Maximum effort!"
Then Dragpool goes skyward, his legs flailing about as he holds onto that webline and the box for dear life.
Spider-Man watches him go, shaking his head. "Great. Now he's George of the Jungle. I hope he doesn't do as many faceplants as *I* did starting out." He suddenly chuckles. "At least he has air bags."
He looks out at the city for a few moments more before he yawns hugely. "And that's my cue to head home. Still have to finish the speech."
A quick THWIPP! later, and Spider-Man is heading back to Queens.