2019-11-15 - Pizza Face


Roxy and Sarah sit down for pizza…and are interrupted by Deadpool, who puts them off their dinner just a bit. Insults exchanged!

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Fri Nov 15 04:52:06 2019
Location: Mario's Pizza

Related Logs


Theme Song



THE OUTFIT: Black beret, hair parted, bangs clipped into place. Black crop-top tee ("MISFIT" written in white text), baggy leather half-jacket, tight high-waisted denim jeans. Accessories: Bell choker, a black spike bracelet on the left hand, unlaced sneakers.

Mario's Pizza has been around since forever, and it's basically the best. Cheap and seedy, but with clean seats and polite service, it's the go-to for cheap, authentic-feeling New York pizza. Roxanne's mostly sitting at a window seat, drumming out a rhythm on her delicate lil' chin, feasting her eyes on the rainy day outside. She's bored, but food is food, and Sarah insisted on coming out to talk to her for some reason or another. The important thing is that Sarah's paying.

Because of course Roxy would insist on that. It's not like Sarah really makes much money, she gets at best a modest stipend. Heroing doesn't really make much money. Unless you merchandise or something, and that's certainly nothing Sarah has an interest in. Not that she gets paid for managing Dazzler either. Yet, anyway. That's more ethics on her part; she didn't feel it was fair until they were actually MAKING money, after all.

But she has missed her friend.

The rain outside suddenly swirls, the pattern of the drops changing, tapering off for a moment as wind swirls around, before Sarah lands easily on the sidewalk outside, getting some definite looks from passerbys before she makes her way inside. She's dressed in a button up saffron blouse and a short leather jacket, with dark jeans and tanned fringed Western boots. A silvery belt winds unnecessarily around her waist (not that the tight jeans need it) with little pieces of turquoise set in each link, square and polished. A single feather dangles from her right ear, while several pendants hang around her neck, simple chains with polished semi-precious stones. Her long hair is pulled back in a long braid that falls all the way to her butt, as she walks over to join Roxy, waving. "Hey…beat me here." she says simply, sliding into the other side of the booth.

THE OUTFIT: Red spandex, black leather trimmings, twin katana blades, a gunbelt (currently empty since it isn't Indiana).

Deadpool comes walking into the pizza joint, hastily collapsing a brightly colored Hello Kitty umbrella.

"Ugh! Ugh, ugh! Wet spandex! Stop staring, folks. Fish out of water okay?" His finger immediately drops to point toward Roxanne and Sarah. "Especially you two. Don't act so impressed, it's totally a cucumber wrapped in foil."

Deadpool turns to the computer screen you're reading. "Spinal Tap reference," he stage whispers. "Let's see who gets it and who has to google it."

Without missing a beat, the man covered in wet spandex walks up to the counter and waits in line for his turn to order.

Sarah arrives in a flurry of rain and wind and gasps and shock/awe! The entire restaurant's staring, really, and why shouldn't they? It's not every day that an Apache weather goddess alights 'pon the pavement outside, an umber sprite in absolute command of the very elements. It's picturesque. Sarah's rapidly the talk of the restaurant, an object of worship, envy, and more than a few lusting stares. Deadpool destroys the entire scenario, and the resultant star-power of the restaurant has no end of phones flashing and Twitter updates tumbling into cyberspace.

"…Huh. Is she in her uniform? Is it even the same uniform anymore?" Roxy's been watching one of the servers - he's got a cute goatee. It's only when HE turns that SHE turns. She sees Sarah, sure, but there's DEADPOOL behind SARAH, and Roxy's just sort of casually tugging her phone free to snap a picture of the guy before wiggling fingers Sarah's way.

"Hey girl! Yeah. Turns out public transportation's still the fastest way to get around… thought for SURE you'd beat me, bein' able to fly in public and all. What gives? A stormcloud ruin your pressure system, or whatever?" Roxy smiles broadly to Sarah.

To Deadpool… a quirked eyebrow at the comment-to-the-reader. She doesn't get it. "He really is crazy, huh? I thought, uh. Aren't you too OLD for the cucumber-in-your-pocket trick, guy?"

"I just got a little distracted….been a while since I was able to fly during a storm." Sarah admits, stretching out, then blinking as she sees Deadpool, turning as Roxy snaps his picture. "…uh…that's…a thing?" says the girl who never was able to see Spinal Tap. She watches a bit askance at the armed man. Is this a robbery? She's…not sure. She's pretty sure it's not Spiderman, though the costume is similar. Same eyes! But she's pretty sure he doesn't carry katanas.

Deadpool waves a hand in a decidedly flamboyant manner toward Roxy. "I could see that coming a mile away."

The man turns away then, and approaches the counter. "Hi! I'll have, lemme see… cheese, no. Pepperoni, yes, Bronx Bomber that's a hell of a name…. okay! One pepp, one Bronx Bomber and two All You Can Meat's, and if you don't have beer I suppose I'll have a coke. Oh, and please tell me you take Apple Pay."

Holy shit. Deadpool looks exactly like a Foot Soldier. Roxy never really put two and two together, but with the paired katanas he's carrying, she's briefly trapped in a pit of nostalgia. Not so far gone that she isn't able to reach forward and palm a salt shaker - she doesn't really know what Deadpool's up to.

"It's totally a thing. Guys do it all the TIME in scho- ooh, wait. Did they not do that out on the reservations? I'm really sorry I ever made fun of you guys for not having cellphones until you were like eighteen. You're WAY more mature than us city slicker dumbasses." Roxy's lips curl into a sly smile. Teasing Sarah is an important and nationally-approved pasttime.

"See what comin'? Your jumbo-sized underwear? Last time I checked it was 2019, Big Red~" Roxy pushes back her beret, sniffs at Deadpool - yeah! Take that! - and looks back to Sarah. Hard to talk around the Merc With A Mouth, considering the sheer -attention- he's demanding, but Roxy's going to try. God damn it, she'll try!

"So, uh. What's up, Sarah? This isn't, like…" Roxy narrows her eyes and leans forward. "Am I in trouble?"

Sarah's eyes narrow slightly at Roxy. "No cellphones, not a lot in the way of movies or TV, so yeah, not a lot about that sort of thing." she confirms, not sounding particularly bothered by it. "That's ridiculous." She blinks a bit at the last question though. "…why would you be in trouble?" she says uncertainly, glancing at Deadpool again.

"Because let's face it, he looks like trouble. Like Trouble got up and said 'today is a day for chaos' and went to the chaos cabinet and got itself armed up to do maximum damage.

"Oh thank God!" Deadpool retrieves a phone from one of his many, many Liefeldian pouches, and calls up Apple Pay to pay for his pizza.

Without missing a beat, he rolls his head back toward Roxanne. "Oh is it?" he asks, feigning total and utter surprise. "Jesus!!! The way you're dressed, I could have sworn it was 1985 and we were on the set for National Lampoon's European Vacation!"

Noticing the pizza man eyeballing his swords, Deadpool spins back around and holds up his hands. "Hey, you know, I saw the no guns sign, which is why I left mine with the homeless dude around the corner." There is a long pause. "Just kidding! The look on your face!"

Taking his order number, he strolls on over toward a table that happens to be right next to the one occupied by Roxanne and Sarah.

Its possible he may have overheard Sarah, because after sitting down, he turns to look at her, and his white eye-holes have narrowed in a suspicious way. "You… have we met?"

"Why would I be in trouble?" Roxy seems surprised by the question, and her eyes are already flitting sidelong, downwards - a tell that she's conjuring up a lie. Does Koriand'r not talk to the other Young Avengers or whatever? Roxy got fashion photos leaked to the whole world AND started a vicious cyber-infection after downloading Captain Marvel's book illegally. She's an accidentally-killed-bird away from a hat-trick of pissing Rainmaker off.

~1985?~ Roxy's mouthing it, attention wrested from Sarah. Deadpool provides a distraction, prompting the lippy teen to hop to her feet, livid. Her eyes *burn* like vivid amethyst, and she's talking before she can finish considering what she's trying to say. Fashion? You're gonna insult her fashion?

"You're gonna get all Fashion Police on me, you Foot Soldier wannabe? Don't talk smack on a girl with *style* unless you wanna get a size six Doc Marten up your chunky ass-" Voice pitched, she's pissed to the point that she's lifting off of her heels a bit - hovering - and doesn't quite realize it. As before, Deadpool's rapid pivot towards Sarah stops Roxy dead in her tracks.

"Is he *hittin'* on you? Holy shit." Her voice goes quavery. It really never ends. At least this time the guy's not *too* cute. Roxy finds her feet again, leans against the table, and just kinda… watches things transpire. If she's smiling, it's only because she likes watching Sarah deal with the short end of being a leggy babe. Rare that Roxanne gets to win for being less than gorgeous.

Sarah blinks a bit as Deadpool sits down and asks his question. "…depends. Are you Spiderman and you just changed your color scheme a bit?" she wonders, leaning back, Her eyes flick back to Roxy, raising a brow. "She is really stylish." she says, in defense of your younger friend! "I mean, she doesn't accessorize with swords, but still." She blinks again at Roxy. "Uh….I didn't…think so?" She eyes Deadpool now uncertainly.

Here comes another fourth wall break, and it happens when Roxanne talks about putting her Doc Marten up his ass. To the women, he's looking off into space, but the IC/OOC barrier is utterly shattered for a moment. His expression is helpless, as if it's taking everything in him not to make a remark about prostate stimulation.

Helpless grimace. He's trying. He's trying so hard.

"So…" Deadpool turns back to Roxy and asks, "I should… keep… talking smack. Right? Because I've had a lot of things up my ass, and I bet it feels a lot better than the grenade."

Tried, and failed.

"By the way, Audrey, you're totally floating."

Swiveling back time Sarah, the man laughs. "No, no no, but Spidey and I are besties!" He whips out his cell phone and begins rapidly swiping through photos, most of which are either of dead bodies or are pornographic in nature. "I'm gonna prove it. Let's see…. oh! Yeah. Here it is!"

Whipping the phone around, it's totally a legit, undoctored selfie with himself and Spider-Man.

"Call me Deadpool," he tells both, then says to Sarah, "She might not accessorize with swords, but she totally does have the whole 'Hey look I have powers but I don't quite know how to use them' thing going on." Swivel to Roxy. "Which is actually totally adorable."

Roxanne's going to say something to Sarah, promise, but she gets blown up about sixteen different ways. Deadpool's completely impenetrable, unless you count the multitude of things that have been up his ass. In any case, the girl's taken aback, lips parted, eyes wide, expression utterly, entirely, horrendously *stultified*.

"Wicked," is all she's got to say. Somewhere in her lizard brain, she's aware that Deadpool doesn't really give a shit about public awareness of keeping powers on the DL or whatever else, so she's just not going to talk about the floating. She's just going to stop floating. Heels to the ground, she gently, numbly sets the salt shaker she'd pocketed back atop the table beside her.

"Heh, uh. Adorable?" And there it is. Cheeky little smile, one pink bang tucked behind a pierced ear, attention absolutely pinned to Deadpool. Sure, she threatened to break her foot off in his ass. He didn't seem to mind. Maybe he's into that. The suit looks like oversized pajamas, but even oversized pajamas can't exactly hide the swell of those delts under the fabric. And that cucumber.

"I, uh. Erm. Was an optical hallucination or whatever. My name's Roxy. This is Sarah. Sarah's into, uh." Roxy swallows. Shit. She's not thinking! She almost blew up her friend's spot on a topic she doesn't really understand!


Sarah valiantly DOES NOT SMIRK as Deadpool burns Roxy so bad she'll need some cream and a burn ward. But then Roxy LOOKS at Deadpool and…"…and here we go again." Sarah mutters under her breath at Roxy's immediate interest, sighing. If there's one compass that guides Roxy, it's her unerring ability to have the WORST taste in guys.

"…vegetables? Uh…I suppose I like…nature. Which has vegetables." she admits, tilting her head. "So, uh, Deadpool, you're a vigilante or something?"

"Deadpool," he repeats for Roxy's benefit. "And that's pool, as in skinny dipping, not 'poo' like the emoji." He waggles his fingers Roxy's way, before turning to Sarah.

"Is that better or worse than mercenary?" he asks, sounding genuinely confused. "Really, I'm just a guy getting pizza and speak of the devil." His five slices are brought over, along with the fountain drink. "Coke," he says, clearly lamenting the lack of beer. "Not even the fun kind."

With a shrug, he looks at the others. "Nice to meet you ladies, but I've got pizza to nosh, and a coke to slurp rather than snort." And with that, he's peeling the mask up to his nose, revealing that the pizza in this joint might not be limited to the pies.

~Deadpool~, mouths Roxanne. There's a reassurance in mouthing a dreamy guy's name, a fey little glee in the familiarity it espouses. They're, like, friends now. That's a step closer to Mr. and Mrs. Deadpool, right? He said she was dreamy, AND he knows she can float? Gawd. Roxanne listens to Sarah say something about trees and vigils, chin in hand, and lets her eyes trace the black lines on Deadpool's uniform.

She wonders how good he is with those swords.

"Coke's okay," she muses aloud, which may give Sarah an entirely new line of concern to follow - it's OK. Roxy doesn't actually know what's going on, because she's really stopped paying attention. Five slices of pizza? That's cute. Nowhere near what her old boyfriend would've inhaled, but five is a good number.

"Nice to meet you too. Sarah was just leavin', weren't you, Sa-" Yep. The second that mask comes up, Roxanne's eyes are bugging out of her head. Wordlessly, her throat works in a convulsive gag-reflex, and she's bobbing backwards, float-hopping over the nearest stool, and stumble-walking towards the bathroom.

Urp. On the bright side, Sarah already knows - you don't have to worry about holding back that short hair. Roxy's gonna be just fine.

Even Sarah pales a bit at the ruin that's revealed. She can't imagine what that kind of scarring would come from…or is he a mutant and that's just how his skin looks? It's…wow…

She's actually feeling a bit like she suddenly doesn't want to eat anything. That image of that ruined mouth taking a bite is just…going to linger. Enough that she only sideeyes Roxy's mention of coke of a non drinkable variety. "Y-yeah, sure, it's…nice to meet you." she manages, managing to regain some of her aplomb. "Didn't mean to interrupt your meal?" She glances after Roxy, then looks back at Deadpool.

Well, it's not HIS fault that he looks like that. I mean, there's scarring from self harm or scarification, and then there's…THAT.

"Uh…so, I should…she was mentioning she was feeling sick earlier, I should probably go see if she's okay. But nice meeting you!" She stands up. "Enjoy your pizzas." Annnnnd she'll just retreat a bit after Roxy at that point. AT speed!

"Mm hmmm," Deadpool mutters to the two of them as they kick rocks. If there is one thing that can truly shut him up, it is pizza.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License