Summary:Deadpool finally and properly interrupts a photoshoot! Watch his star power rise! Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
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"Get outta the way, outta the fucking way, christ!" A man's voice is frazzled, desperate, shouting as he runs through the crowd of people on the side of the street. There's a crash and clatter as he collides with a woman carrying a bag of books she just bought from the nearby Barnes & Noble.
"I said the fuck out of my way!" The sweaty man in the red Adidas jump suit scrambles to his feet and pushes a man in a business suit out of his way even as a small group had started to form around him and the fallen woman, if only to gawk.
For some they might well not hear the ruckus, for the acoustics of the tall buildings might well muffle it. But as the man rounds the corner, suddenly his heavy breathing and muffled cursing under his breath is rather loud. Even as he crashes over the small barrier tape and the quaint little orange cones. Knocking over the sign that Jacques had drawn up that said simply, 'No Trespass! Photo Shoot In Session!'
"The fuck?!" The man in the track suit stumbles, angrily pushing one of the wrought iron chairs out of the way. "The fuck is all this shit?" For in that alleyway, Jacques had the idea for this photo session to set up a quaintly tasteful outdoor park bench set right in the middle of what was normally just an open dog park.
It's Jacques' turn, however, to pipe up. "What is it you mean, the fuck is? The fuck are you? Ruining my shot. A fuck of you." His English a touch broken as he gestures angrily.
Photo-shoots were annoying, even though Mary Jane had to do it. Pictures needed to be submitted to the Teen Vogue magazine, and those pictures had to have that urban, new aged, this is what teenagers like, feel.
So, her stylist put her in 80's retro. Polkadot shirt that was three sizes too large. Suspenders to hold up tight shorts. Stocking/leggings which nearly reached the converse that she wore. Ruby red lipstick, a tiny bit darker than her hair.. and..
"Oh no no Staci, any more blush and people are going to think I'm a porcelean doll.." Mary Jane frets.
"But you're flushed and pale, Mary Jane, you look like you're dead! You need more life!" Staci exclaims!
"I don't need more life, I need more sleep… just try the overlay one more time?"
"Oookay, but it'll darken your skin a bit."
"It's alright.." Mary Jane mutters. "..they're just going to photoshop it anyways.."
The intrusion of the runner causes everyone to pause. Production immediately halts as soon as Jacques could heard cursing, and for a moment.. Mary Jane had thought that someone from the crew had did something wrong. "Hang on Stace, lets go see what's happening."
And like young women who are naturally nosy, that's exactly what they do!
The man in the red jumpsuit just looks /so/ out of sorts, as if this was the final slice of turd on his shit sandwich of a day. He steps around, then _angrily_ pushes one of the large lights ouf ot his way. "Whatever, man!"
Even as he holds one of his hands against his chest, the thing twisted and gnarled a bit as if someone had grabbed it and twisted it around. Definitely a man that could use medical attention.
Only Jacques is having none of it as he steps in and interposes himself in the man's way, "What is it you do? This is all of the non." A finger waggles as he /pushes/ the other man in the chest. "You go out the way you came and you will be walking around the work of Jacques. Or else it will be you who is fucking you!"
And this… this verbal assault just makes the man in red look at Jacques as if he were insane, just so totally insane. "Man, you… you don't even…"
Only then for a cheerful voice to be heard from the mouth of the entrance to that dog park where the man had just come running from. "Laurence G. Ditilio? Larry to his friends?"
"Oh fuck no!" Tracksuit starts to turn and tries to /shove/ Jacques out of the way. Only for Jacques to _punch_ him right in the belly, causing the man to reel backwards and then thump onto his rear. "And who of the fucks are you supposed to be?" The Frenchman asks?
"La piscine. La piscine de morts. Thank you for the assist, citizen. I'll take it from here." The man in the red and black who looks entirely… too much like Spider-Man, though he does have those swords on his back. And a pistol in hand, that he draws back on the slide and chambers a round.
Larry, however, is busy sucking air on the ground and scrambling slowly trying to get away from whomever this Deadpool. Gasping, "You can't… you can't kill me!"
"Oui, you cannot be killing him?!" Jacques turns towards Wade and blinks, then looks down, then only then notices Mary Jane.
"Oh of course not, I'd never…" But as Jacques catches MJ's eye, Wade lowers his voice to a whisper as he points at Larry and makes a throat slit gesture, "I am so totally going to kill you."
The arguing gets louder as MJ and Staci approach, both of the women holding each other as their eyes dart from back to forth…
left to right..
To the downed light fixture..
..with the addition of another that joins into the fray! As Jumpsuit Larry tries to run, MJ opens her mouth, only to snap it shut as Jacques punches the man right in the gut!
"Oh my god.." Staci says quietly.
"Shou.. should we call 9-1-1..?" MJ asks..
But the scene itself was unfolding, MJ had to all but blink twice to realize that it wasn't Peter to the rescue, but someone else. Someone that looked mightily familiar but she really couldn't place where! "Jacques!" Mary calls out, attempting to move forward, yet being pulled back by Staci.
"MJ! Don't!" She hisses, tugging the young woman back further away from the scene as they both look on in horror. In the place of flight or fight, fright kicks in! The two women could do nothing but stand by, mildly horrified and speechless!
It's as if only then that Jacques sees the gun and he starts to back up, hands in the air. "I'm seeing nothing, mon ami. No thing. Girls, get the camera let us leave. Vite vite."
And as for Larry he's trying to crawl away on the ground, reaching out with both his good and bad hand, fingers digging into the dirt and grass trying to pull himself forwards… only for a red boot to step down hard on his broken hand. "AAAARARGH YOU MOTHERFUCKER!"
"Stay put, Larry. We have unfinished bus…" Then the masked man tilts his head to the side, "Wait. Not /the/ Larry Ditilio, right? Writer for He-Man and the Masters of the Universe season 1? 17 episodes to your credit, right?"
"What? The fuck… the fuck are you talking about."
"I suppose it was too much to hope for. Oh well." The pistol is raised, but then suddenly… the eyelets of the masked man widen a touch as he looks to the side, catching MJ's reflection in a window, then spinning around to look at her. Causing Larry to scream again.
"Hey!" He points with the pistol, "I know you don't… oh dang. Sorry." He flips the safety on the pistol and adjusts his grip. "If Frank could see me now, he'd be all. 'Remember yer trigger discipline, Wade.'" And as he speaks that line his voice goes rumbly and guttural.
"But seriously, don't I know you?" He says as he lowers the pistol.
Jacque's gets the cue to leave, in which he didn't have to tell Staci twice! She immediately lets go of MJ, packing up her stand along with the various camera lenses, shoving them into the bag with a lack of care. But she did care about something, her own hide. She didn't sign up for masked men carrying guns, katanas, and Jacques punching people!
MJ could only remain standing, wincing all the while, her hands drawing up to ball fists against her cheek as her once, near pale skin burns a bright red without the blush. God! What. Would. Spider-Man. Do?! Hell, she didn't know. She couldn't web fling or shoot, even though she's had a chance!
"Aaah.." Is all she manages to get out, before attention was on her. Her eyes widen, head jerks back, and a foot lifts to drag backwards but it feels like freaking cement!
"Da.. ah.."
Turning to look to Staci, who was but blonde hair in the wind.
Back to Deadpool, Mary's eyes widen as he points the gun at her, a slight little yip ejects from her throat, her hands immediately lifting towards the air as if he told her to freeze. And by the gods, she shook to her core! He -still- looked familiar though! Addled brain was -now- drawing a break.
"AH..dahf.. eeee.." She manages to get out… "..me?!" Her voice was high pitched, at a near screech. She was still trying to back up, until her foot catches on thin air and she crumples to the ground, still sitting upright.. hands up there in the air.. "Ah…aaha…" What the hell does she say?!
"Was it at homecoming?" He asks her, mask tilted to the side, "The Flea Market on Route 18?" Deadpool steps away from the fallen Larry who now grabs his hand to his chest and mooooans as he rolls over onto his side, frowning and gasping. But he slooowly starts to get to his knees, looking fearfully after Deadpool and then lifts his fingers to his lips as if to tell MJ to pleeeeease keep his attention while he makes his escape.
"Maybe it was at the Yankees game? I was the one in the Philly Fanatic costume. No? Maybe it was at that cafe in Paris? What was that waiter's name?"
Then he waits a second before he adds, "Jean-Luc!"
The pistol is holstered on his hip and he offers his hand, "Deadpool. Pleased to meet you."
The only thing left of Jacques and Staci were the screeching of tires in the background. MJ was a star, but she wasn't an Angelina Jolie or someone equally of that caliber. If she dies, people would mourn for a week, say they need better gun or protection in the parks of New York, and let it go because either a dog did a funny trick and it went viral or youtube or another famous person openly admits they were gay. (Tom Cruise)
As he piles on the questions, Mary Jane was completely useless! Her head was shaking repeatedly, even as her eyes dart towards Larry who.. tries to get away quietly!
What.. what in the world would Ben Grimm do! Mary Jane couldn't clobber a grape let alone a man with a gun.. and she was not -that- witty.. "I.. nooo?" Though, now that Mary Jane thinks of it, she was in Paris for a day.. and she did have a waiter named Jean-Luc..
"M..mmaaybe?"
The hand was offered, and with clear hesitation, Mary Jane finally takes his hand. The grip was hard, but it wasn't her own doing, she didn't know her own strength when presented in such an odd encounter (and she was not that strong anyways). But, even if he didn't ask, she would answer.. "Mary Jane Watson.." And a collective groan would be heard throughout the world. He could totally kill her now. She may as well die standing!
The grip upon Deadpool's hand becomes more sturdier as she helps herself off of the ground, legs still wobbiling, her hand still holding his. Something told her not to let go, at least so Larry could make a clean getaway!
Larry gives her the most pitiful eyes as he hugs his hand to his chest and then slowly starts to crawl away, then gets to his feet… then slips. /THUD!/ Loud enough that surely Deadpool heard it and so he /ruuuuns/ leaving poor Mary Jane to her fate.
Wade does a quick look, then back to her, then back to Larry as the guy beats feet and he looks over at MJ. "What? Oh pffft, don't worry about him, I'll get him later."
He brings up a hand to let him trumpet his words as he yells, "Catch ya later, Larry! Don't let anyone else get the bounty, buddy. You owe me!"
And as easy as that, Larry's gone too, leaving MJ alone with the man in the red and black. Who seems cheerful as he helps her up. "So Mary Jane. What might I have seen you in?" He asks as he folds his arms over his chest, the white eyelets in his mask widening slightly.
Perhaps the most shitty part of it all was the hope that Deadpool started to shoot to draw some attention. She wasn't even sure if Staci called 9-1-1, or even Jacques.. but either way, she'll probably never work with those two again. Nor them wanting to work with her..
But, Larry flees and is safe, and with MJ on her feet she -somewhat- relaxes, especially since Deadpool was actually… a little bit nice. Still, she was nervous as all get out, the red shade to her cheeks slowly melting away to something akin to a sickly pale.
"Uh.. I.. I don't know.." Now she had to think. At least to come up with a satisfying answer that would..
"YOU! You were that guy they were talking about on E! Tonight! You put your butt out in my picture!" While, MJ may have sound appalled, she really wasn't! She was just surprised to run into him here, of all places. And she wouldn't dare say that she was being stalked!
"I would have known that butt from anywhere if you would have turned around!" A blurt. And a hand smacks against her lips as if she said the most vile thing ever!
"What the literal my ASS?" He says, voice trilling upwards to a higher pitch as he tilts his head the other way abruptly as if his head just /snapped/ around to look at her. "That's right!"
He laughs and turns around, hands on his hips as he walks back a few paces, then rounds and comes right on back, laughing and his head lowering down to almost rest his chin on his chest. "No no, I owe you." As if she mentioned something about owing him. "I mean you've helped propel my career forward. I really should thank you, but ever since the Weinstein thing I can't bring myself to tolerate the gentle touch of a lover."
"But that was you? Wow! Usually I have to make some special effort to hassle someone over and over until they beg me to go away. We must have some karmic, kismet, fatastic draw thing."
He then goes somber after a short breath drawn in sharply, "Oh-em-gee, maybe we're soul mates?"
Mary Jane takes a step back, it was her turn to exit stage left, but he turns right back around which has her immediately dropping her hands to her side to give off a weird and nervous smile!
His laughter, it wasn't infectious, but she laughs either way, taking a few more awkward steps back, even gesturing 'surprise' all the while still moving. "No.. no no no.." MJ guffaws.. "You don't owe me anything! Honestly! I mean.. it just happened! Like this just happened.." She hopes.. and continues to hope all the while attempting to leave.
"Uh huh! That was me! I.. I mean at least.. well.." She had nothing to say about the effort. Nothing at all. She didn't even have a comeback for the fantastic draw because.. this was totally crazy. And a little bit insane..
"What?! Soulmates!? NO no no no no no no.." Now she was turning, heading right towards where the workstation used to be and seeing.. nothing. Staci and Jacques cleaned up shop; taking her purse and phone with her. And on top of that, she didn't have a ride home. She lifts her hands and a foot, throwing out a full temper tantrum for all of two seconds full of flailing and a few quick stomps. And then she stops, one arm wrapped around her chest as the other presses to the bridge of her nose, her eyes closing so that she could breathe in.. and breathe out slowly. Clearly, she wasn't getting away any time soon. "D..do you have a cell phone Mr. Deadpool?"
"For you, heart of my heart, soul of my soul. Anything." Yet as he says that he's turning to the side reaching with one hand to try and… to try and get to the… he turns slowly in place, trying to reach the back of his suit. "Hold on there." He holds up a finger and turns again this time leaning forwards and reaching a hand down between his legs and up towards the back.
"There, got it!" There's a faint tearing sound as of velcro and then he says, "Oh man, I need to get some pockets in this thing. Maybe some belt pouches? Like a dozen of them? In a bandolier? Nah that's stupid, who would wear dozens of little pouches? Maybe a fanny pack."
Then there's another tearing of velcro and he produces! A cellphone!
"There we go, here you go, hon. Sorry it's a little warm there. Just go on and swipe right."
He pantomimes a wink.
And should she swipe right on the little red encased phone the wallpaper that greets her…
Is Bob Ross giving a thumbs up.
For a moment, Mary didn't turn around to watch Deadpool, that was until she heard the tearing of velcro. She looks horrified, so much so that she turns away to keep herself and Deadpool modest, her face scrunching into a look that tells that she ate a sour apple.. or didn't want to vomit.. something!
And once he hands it to her, it took her all to fix her face, her acting chops coming into play as she holds the phone onto the palm of her hand, fingers splayed and near bent, before she sucks it up and clasps it tight.
At least fashion was something she could get behind, and gives him a serious look. A look that has her examining him as she begins to draw a circle around him. "I don't think a fanny pack would go along with that look." She states honestly. "I have seen people with cargo pants. Maybe you could sew in pockets.." She points at his thighs. "But if you don't want to deal with the bulkin.." She pauses. "Nevermind. Anyways, do you have the uber app.." She murmurs, swiping right on his phone and.. there's Bob Ross!
"Aww.." She says, her reaction completely knee jerked. And then, she continues to swipe, looking for the proper app to call for a rise. "Lyft even?" She mutters.
Stepping around he moves the few steps needed to stand behind her and over her shoulder, leaning rather intrusively to poke his fingertip at the screen of the phone, "Nope, and nope. I don't think so, let's see…"
His fingertip slides over the screen and he swoooshes past things one after another, browser windows open to /rule34, an application that seems to automate Tindr and is constantly swiping right over and over and over at every option, image gallery of Wade standing in what looks like the bedrooms of all of he Spice Girls one after the other, all of them seeming to be in a not too good state of wakefulness, complete with David Beckham taking a swing at the camera.
Until finally she finds the thumbnail for Uber though Wade's rating is… rather low. "There you go, or hey, you know I could drive you home."
But then the phone buzzes in her hand and the image of a /really/ angry-faced looking papa chubby Val Kilmer flicks on to signal who is calling and he says, "Oooh wait, I gotta take this." As he snatches the phone away and takes the call. He starts to walk away from her, his back to her for now as he says, "Hi Franky. How's it going? So what are you wearing? Mmm nice. Oh you know me, same ole same ole."
Mary Jane goes stiff as a pole; with him being so close, she even holds her breath and closes her eyes, opening them at the wrong time to witness the horror that was on the screen. "Oh god!" She exclaims.. "Oh.. oh no.. oh.. oh my.. sweet jesus.."
That was the running commentary, and right until he offers to take her home, she was already reeling and ready to flee. Her head shakes almost immediately, the phone soon snatched from her hand, leaving them both outright as if she dropped a baby and was all the more shocked by her letting go!
As he walks away from her, she slowly takes a step back, finding the legs and gumption to actually turn and book it out of the park. This was probably the most and the fastest she has ever ran, save for when she was forced to do it for a scene three weeks ago…