11382/X-F Side Dishes: Mistakes Were Made

X-F Side Dishes: Mistakes Were Made
Date of Scene:	29 May 2022
Location:	Biochem Facility, Weehawken, New Jersey
Synopsis:	Inez comes to Wade's rescue when a recon mission goes awry. The entity labelled X-00 turns out to be a Frankenstein's monster version of Deadpool constructed out of disparate body parts that Wade's lost over the years. It gives Wade two near death experiences and Inez a warning. (And it stole Wade's color to boot!)
Cast of Characters:	Wade Wilson, Inez Temple

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Wade Wilson has posed:
    It's early evening when Inez's phone buzzes. The number is one she's more than familiar with: her husband, Wade. He's been busy planning the next mission for their team so time hasn't been the kindest to the couple for private time. But maybe today was a lucky day... for the both of them. Wade being romantic wasn't entirely out of the question.

    Their first sexual encounter started with the man being romantic... in his own way. He could've booked a table at an upscale locale for them both: a bit of wine, dine, sexy time trio. But it being Wade such things were rare.

    Still, picking up the phone is the only way to know for sure.

Inez Temple has posed:
Inez smiles at the number popping up on the screen, wondering if tonight will be business or pleasure. Or both. Both has never been out of the question either. Swiping her thumb across the screen, she lifts the phone to her ear. "Hello, Westside Sperm Bank, ya'll fill it, we chill it! Would ya like to make a donation?"

She could -almost- cover that Texan twang. Almost. That 'ou' sound gets her every time. But, it's Wade. He could well try to make an appointment anyways! Or he could give her an address and directions on what to bring. Or he could just talk. With Wade Wilson, one never really knows... and that's what makes marriage to him so fun!

Wade Wilson has posed:
    Today the situation seems to call for more business, but the other choice could still be in the cards. Automatic gunfire erupts on the other side of the line along with the sound of bullets tearing away at stone or maybe concrete. "Rain check on that, babe" Wade replies, his tone elevated to carry over the sound of the gunfire.

    "How quick can you make it to Weehawken?" he asks. "I -might've- made a mistake in timing and I'm sort of pinned downed behind a road barrier right--you son of a bitch!" A trio of heavy caliber pistol shots ring out louder than the automatic fire. "Right now. I've got maybe 20 shots left and about 25 badguys in riot gear closing in on me."

Inez Temple has posed:
Inez was on her feet at the sound of gunfire, already collecting up a couple guns, grabbing her hat. "Sounds like a party. 'M on th' way. Gimme ten minutes. 8 if'n I c'n hit the straight line down 10th." He can hear her locking up, then a small 'hup' and the THUD of feet hitting linoleum three stories down. "I'm on hands-free if ya wanna keep th' line open."

"Should I ask what yer doin' in Weekhawken, or will that come with th' rescue package?" She hops up into the cab of a truck she's been working on having 'fancied up', a present to herself for her birthday. And off she goes, to rescue Wade!

Wade Wilson has posed:
    Wade keeps the line open, giving the woman the addess of the facility he's pinned down at. "Recon... probably should've brought some backup. But I didn't anticipate the heightened security detail or the fact that they've extended hours at the plant." The sound of leather on concrete scrapes over the line and more gunfire erupts. "Ow!" he says. "Fucking hollow point using bastards..."

    He responds with another pair of shots. "Eighteen. I also didn't expect them to be in riot gear. None of the previous facilities had anything like this level of protection. Means you did a number on their head honcho just by flexing. Atta girl" he says with a grin. "GET THE FUCK BACK!" he screams immediately after and fires another shot. "YEAH, NEXT TIME WEAR A HELMET ASSHOLE! Seventeen. Still... it's good news. It means the noose is tightening on them and we're closer to getting to what we want. Their eradication."

Inez Temple has posed:
"Yeah, I'm gonna go ahead an' call no more solo scoutin' movin' forward. Now they know we're onto 'em, that we ain't gonna stop, security's jes' gonna get tighter." Inez lays on the horn for some jackass in a BMW before pulling around and hitting the gas again. "I hate New York drivers... like they ain't been sharin' a road wit' four million other people since they started drivin'..."

"Arms in babe, that bright red is sexy but eye-catchin'." She takes the left onto 10th JUST in time to catch the straightaway. "Oh yeah, okay babe, I'm nearly there, jes' gotta cross th' bridge. Expect me t' come in hot. Gotta new ride I'mma try out." Inez chuckles and offers, "We still gotta figure out how t' get around Cult Leader Carl's gravity field. I gotta say, I'm damn strong but ev'rytime I kicked it up a notch, he was right there with me."

Wade Wilson has posed:
    "Cult Leader Carl might just be Stryfe, in which case we're all screwed..." Wade replies. "Especially since Cable went back to spend some time with his own timeline and his own war." Another single shot. "Sixteen. Something's not quite right about it though. He's got the look, but..." Inez can almost hear the shake of Wade's head on the other line.

    "Aren't you always coming in hot?" he asks. "Especially with that tight little mini you wear." The grin in his words is clear. "Uh-oh. I said Get. BACK!" he shouts again as another trio of shots ring out. "Fuck... thirteen."

    Lucky for Inez the facility isn't far from the bridge. Rounding a corner she can see the open lot and the mass of bodies. Wade, in the red, is crouched behind a road barrier that's seen better days. Not far beyond the barrier is a ring of black clad bodies with full auto rifles, they intermittently spray the barrier with gunfire sending rock shrapnel in all directions. Littering the ground are a number of other black clad bodies still in little pools of red as well. A quick head count has close to twenty bodies up still.

Inez Temple has posed:
"I dunno... I mean.. from what th' two of ya have said bout him... he don't seem like the robe-wearin' Brother Blood type. Are we sure someone ain't like... cloned Stryfe, or made a cheap knockoff android an' programmed it t' think it's Stryfe?" This is where Wade can almost hear Inez's shrug. Still, she guns it after rounding the corner, and he can hear the heavy motor and see the floodlights as the lightbar up top flips on.

"Okay darlin', I'm here, gonna hang up cause it's bout t' get loud." She hangs up the call before flipping on the radio and cranking the volume all the way up. Travis' Tritt's T-R-O-U-B-L-E comes blasting out from the truck as it races past the barrier with the blonde leaning out the driver's side window. It's one of those OLD Ford truck bodies, back when trucks were made of metal, not fiberglass, put up on a lift kit and souped up to break speed limits ol' Henry Ford never imagined they would be able to reach.

"WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" She heads straight for the ring of men in black, hitting the brake, downshifting, and cranking the wheel to whip the truck around in a rumble of engine and squeal of tire that leaves blood and rubber on the asphalt while Inez pulls a massive donut around the group. The ones that don't scatter are dead. There's nothing to be done against Detroit rolling iron whipping around at 50 mph and slamming into a human body. Once she's scattered or smeared the group, she aims towards the barrier and guns it once more, pulling up and throwing the door open with a grin, "Hey hon, sorry I was late, th' traffic was a bitch!"

Wade Wilson has posed:
    Wade grins up at Inez. "What matters is that you showed up" he says. He's looked better. There are a number of tears in his suit, bullet holes smeared with red that show skin underneath. A tear at his mask shows some of the hairless scalp underneath. And there is a large knife still shoved in his thigh, right where the femoral artery should be. Removing it would likely lead to a bleed out--something he couldn't afford in his present state.

    He pushes himself to his feet and fires off another round at one of the guards that scattered. The headshot does enough to put him down permenantly. "We should book it out of here..." he says limping toward the vehicle.

    He's about to hop on when something impacts him in the chest and a gout of blood erupts from him back. Less than a second later the heavy report of a sniper rifle breaks over the rumble of the suped up truck and Wade falls back in a pool of his own blood. "Ow..." he croaks out. "That... hurts..."

    Atop the roof of the facility rises a figure. His full body suit looks more like a patchwork of pieces in a myriad of colors. Brown, black, dusty white, red. But one this is clear, it's modelled after Deadpool's own. He leaps from the roof of the building and despite the 30 foot drop, breaks into a roll that brings him to his feet with barely any hesitation. He draws both heavy pistols and points them at the truck. Another thing his clear with both guns drawn on them. He has two right arms. The left arm arches around backwards behind but even with the handicap the steady hold is celar enough that he is not encumbered by the strangeness.

Inez Temple has posed:
"WADE!"

Even knowing that it won't kill doesn't make the moment any less visceral. Inez is already sliding across the seat towards him when she spots the other figure. Pulling her AR, she has him in her sights even as he pops up from the roll. "Wade, I need ya to push through th' pain an' get in th' truck. We gotta go -now-." Her voice holds just the slightest tremble as she stares down at a patched together version of her husband.

"If'n any part o' ya remembers me, y'know jes' how accurate I am, an' from a Helluva lot farther away. Ya let us leave an' we'll spare each other a metric ton of blood an' pain." Her voice is pitched for the patchwork DP that's stalking towards them even as she uses her off hand to try and get Wade onto his feet so he can climb into the cab. "Otherwise, I c'n guaratee it'll be a lot more pain than th' honeymoon, an' none o' th' pleasure that went wit' it."

Wade Wilson has posed:
    The Franken-Deadpool peels off the mask to reveal a face that is more hideous than Deadpool's own. There is nothing to even attempt to say that the owner is remotely human. Shrapnel and stitches have made the face as patchwork as the suit he wears. He smiles and says, "Tell him that I'm coming for his sweet ass when its the right time. Any sooner and it'll be his head I aim for next time and not the fun one."

    Wade gets himself to at least stagger into the truck. "That fucker took my color..." he says weakly. "I... I've gotta get it back. Run it over..." he's already regenerating the hole in his chest and back, but it's clear that it took some energy out of him to do so. "Turn it into paste... maybe it'll stay dead this time." He grimaces. "Here, I'll get us started."

    He fires a shot at the figure. And misses as it winks out of existence and appears a few feet from it's original spot. The Not-Deadpool fires two shots and two new holes appear in Wade's forehead. "Well fu--" Wade starts to say before he goes limp again in Inez's arms.

    "No more second chances. Get out of here or I'll show you that my idea of 'fun' is much different than his..." he says another grimacing smile warping the facial features.

Inez Temple has posed:
Inez stares right into that broken, torn, and patched up face. No blinking. She's... actually seen him look worse. Which is saying something. But it's not a pretty sight regardless. Giving a nod, she tries to urge Wade up into the truck so she can close the door and get around to the driver's side.

Instead, Wade tries to put a shot into the Not-Wade and misses, leaving Inez to watch him get two to the head. Sighing, she murmurs, "An' I jes' had th' upholstery done... dammit." Then she's bundling him into the truck and shutting the door. Turning back to the Not-Wade, Inez gives a nod, tipping her hat, "Obliged. We'll be seein' ya soon 'nough..."

Then she's turning and moving around the truck, shooting one of the scattered guards right between the eyes as he tries to approach. The AR is tossed up up into the cab, and Inez follows, getting them the Hell out of Dodge in a much more somber manner than she entered.

Wade Wilson has posed:
    A few minutes after Inez starts out Wade's body expells the spend .45 rounds in his head and seals the wounds. He gasps and sits up. "Ugh... what the fuck happened?" he asks. "I remember evil me using my color. And then I shot him and then..." he blinks, looking over at Inez and the blood he's spilt all over the interior of the truck. "I'll... I'll pay for the detail work..." he says softly and apologeticaly.

    "I knew he was around... I didn't expect to run into him this soon." He peels off the remnants of his mask and sighs. "I'm sorry you had to see that. He's... a piece of work." It seems like Wade feels responsible for the actions of the evil version of him. "It's... if he's about, we're going to have even more trouble on our hands."

Inez Temple has posed:
"Ya missed, darlin'. He... blinked outta existence, then back in a few feet away an' shot ya twice in th' head. Which means he's workin' fer Cult Leader Carl." Inez glances sidelong towards Wade, cracking a small smile and reaching one hand over to run lightly over the back of his hand, "Yer still a good man, Wade Wilson."

Squeezing his shoulder lightly, she pulls back to focus on driving, "But damned if'n yer evil twin ain't a right bastard. Said he's comin' fer yer sweet ass when th' time's right. So I expect he ain't anywhere near done with ya yet." She flicks a glance towards him and nods, "Yeah, he does put a wrinkle in things. Might wanna let th' rest o' th' team know... so he ain't able t' catch 'em off guard."

Then she cracks a brief grin and asks, "So. Yer place or mine?"

Wade Wilson has posed:
    Wade shifts a bit and thinks. "Yours would probably be better right now" he says. "As long as you don't mind me bleeding for a moment in your shower..." He taps his finger on the knife still in his leg. "It's in a major artery... lucky bastard... so if I take it out now... well... I don't want to ruin things more." He shakes his head. "I've told Gabby. But you're right. I should let the others know and if any sign on before the final assault on the place too."

    "I thought... I thought I had gotten rid of them all.. but it seems that one of them was just biding his time..." he shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. "It's part of why I make a habit of burning and encasing the ashes in concrete of any limbs I lose, once I am able. Because I just know that something like that guy could come of it all. But... if they made him on purpose, then this thing is bigger than I anticipated and that some bad juju on an entirely different level."

Inez Temple has posed:
"My place is fine, Wade. Gave ya a key fer a reason," Inez glances towards him sidelong with a smile. She flicks a glance down to the knife, then back up, "When we get there, jes' head straight fer th' shower. I'll clean up th' drips an' all. I got some clothes t' keep at th' house fer ya. Jes' in case of stuff liek this."

She lets out a small breath and murmurs, "Cept fer Florida..." Inez looks back to him, "Woulda been in pieces wit' a buildin' fallin' on ya. But without yer memory... wouldn't've remembered t' go back fer 'em." Inez thinks back. "Tryin' t' think if there's other times... but... that would make sense. Ya lost a chunk of time, so pieces accumulated."

Wade Wilson has posed:
    Wade sighs. "That would make sense..." he says. "Thanks" he says looking over at her. "Really. I mean, sure, our relationship kicked things off with me coming to your place in pieces... but i don't like to make it a defining trait of the relationship, ya know?" he says. "Maybe sometimes I wanna be the guy that rescues you from certain death?" he grins.

    "But you're too smart for that to happen. Not to mention getting through your skin is an exercise in patience in an of itself." He bobs his hairless brows at her. "Not that I mind, means I can bite ya harder if the mood takes me." He clicks his teeth together in an imitation of the aforementioned biting.

    "I don't know if I've said this or not, but... you coming back to NYC... that may have been the best thing to happen to me" he says. "And that's not even the near death experiences talking. I mean it. Truly. Best thing."

Inez Temple has posed:
Pulling to a stop at a red light, Inez shifts in the seat and looks at Wade with a smile, "Ya've always been there fer me, Wade. Even times I didn't really know that I needed someone there. How could I do anythin' less fer ya?" Pausing, she grins, "Tell ya what, we come 'cross that not-Wade again, yer prob'ly gonna have t' save me. Cause I'm sure as shit not lettin' 'im kill ya."

She pauses, then chuckles and murmurs, "Yer th' only one that's ever really said that bout me. I know I play up th' blonde bombshell bit but... I always appreciated that ya saw under it too." Leaning across, she kisses him, firmly, fiercely, nipping his lower lip at the end. "Yer always welcome t' bite me. I always thought it was sexy as Hell."

Then she's pulling back into traffic to take them the last few blocks to her place. Quiet for once as they finish the drive. It's not until she's parked and turned off the engine that she looks towards him again. Smiling. "Wade. When we started goin' out, it were th' most excitin' thing that'd ever happened t' me. Life with ya is -never- dull. Never borin'. I fell in love with ya then, an' I still love ya now. Not jes' as ya were, but as ya are. Yer th' best thing in my m'life. Then, now, movin' forward. I wanna share it with ya. Always."

Wade Wilson has posed:
    Wade -does not- cry. Real men don't cry when their wives say some of the sweetest words to them. They put on a straight face and stiff upper lip and nod in the most manly fashion imaginable. So no one can say that they saw the water tracks cutting through a bit of the dried blood on Wade's face. No one saw that. Okay? He sniffs (pollen in the East Coast is terrible--yes, his ultra sweet healing factor still allows for allergies) and nods; because he's a man.

    "I love you, too" he says and wipes at his face--because maybe it rained a bit and some water got on his cheeks. "Let's get me in and I can take care of... this..." he says gesturing at the knife, "and then maybe you can show me first hand how sexy you think it is." He grins.

Inez Temple has posed:
Clearly Wade wasn't crying. There was just.. moisture. In the truck. So humid in the summer! Inez would swear to it in court, not a single tear. And if the kiss she gives him is a little salty, then clearly it's because the moisture in the air is from the sea water! They're on an island in the Atlantic after all. Smiling, she murmurs, "Ohhhhhh, jes' ya wait... when yer healed, we're gonna break th' bed." She winks at him and slides out of the truck.

Moving around the other side, she'll help him to minimize the pain in having to get up three stories with a knife in his femoral artery. Into the apartment, and then she's ushering him into the shower and kissing him softly, "Wouldn't bother puttin' anythin' on when yer done, I'd jes' have t' rip it off ya." Chuckling, she moves to clean up any drips or spills of the blood and sends a warning text to her upholstery guy that she'll need him to come around in the morning and get the truck.