13487/There are four lights!

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There are four lights!
Date of Scene: 02 December 2022
Location: Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Girls
Synopsis: Wade makes so many friends.
Cast of Characters: Wade Wilson, Jessica Drew




Wade Wilson has posed:
    Weasel's is always kicking late at night.
    It usually doesn't even pick pu until nine, and after that more and more of the usual locals wander on in until the place is hopping with the rumble of the crowd, the clink of glass, the crackle of ice, and sometimes the ratatatatatatat of automatic weapons fire. There are mercenaries in attendance, criminals, drifters, low-lifes, prostitutes, and even worse... Amway salesmen. So many of the worst of the worst walking around, talking, laughing, and occasionally fighting.
    With Weasel trying to play referee.
    "Hey guys, guys. I'm serious if you keep throwing the worms at me I'm not serving anymore tequila. I swear to fucking Odin and his goofy ass one eye. Alright? Alright. Not kidding around, T-Ray." He points at a tall grey-skinned man and flips him off.
    But tonight there is also another type of soul visiting Sister Margaret's. A soul of a hero. Or even better. A Freedom Fighter.
    Luis Camacho sits beside Wade in the corner of the room. An elaborate tourist's map of Manhattan is sprawled over the table. A dagger is stabbed into the over-sized image of Rockefeller Center. Across the map several Risk game pieces are thrown around, and next to the game pieces is a bottle of whiskey.
    Luis, however, has taken on a new identity, for upon his head is a black cowl with pointed ears, and a domino mask. A black cape hangs from his shoulders. Wade is dressed with a white 1930s Space Ranger hat looking like something that Flash Gordon would have worn. And he seems to be speaking intently to Luis.
    "Alright, look, it's easy. Clockwork, buddy. We go in, we play it cool. Hey man, we're just traveling through right. People look ta you, see your masculine frame, realize you are clearly the Batman. Boom, perfect distraction. I cut away, nobody suspects space guys. I slip past the metal detector. I'm in."
    He snaps his fingers as a pitcher of beer suddenly crashes behind him, he doesn't seem to notice. "It's a cake walk, buddy."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Off work Spider Woman likes to spin her web at home and hang out alone. But good food can get her out. She's eclectic in her tastes now; she was raised on the HYDRA equivalent of k-rations and has taken the motto, living well is the best revenge to heart and stomach. Spider metabolism is highly forgiving. What's a couple of thousand calories, more or less?

Sotto Casa Pizzaria has got her out of her nest this evening. A couple of drinks to chase the best pizza in New York takes her to the nearest dive. Sister Margaret's suits her mood. Drinks and mayhem.

Sporting biker chic, Jessica fits right in to the bar. Black leather jacket over a tight mohair sweater straight from the fifties and patched denims. The ballerina shoes don't match but let somebody go ahead and criticize her.

Large pizza box in hand, she wends her way through the crowd ignoring the looks she receives and the noise of glass breaking. Unless someone knows her face, which few do, she's in no more danger here than the next biker chick.

"Hey, Wade. Nice hat. Both of you. Want some pizza?"

Wade Wilson has posed:
    The locals have had enough rough and tumble and casually deadly women walking around in Sister Margaret's that weirdly enough Jess is less likely to get a bit hassled since there've been no small number of corpses in the place when someone misspoke to Lady Mamba, or Snapdragon.
    So when she wanders in with pizza in hand most of the people dont' give her a hard time. Most of them...
    Weasel calls out, "Hey... hey hey hey. You can't bring that in here, no outside food. We serve a very respectable and fine pizza in here." He turns and yells, "Mohindar! Get a pizza started!"
    A faintly Indian accented voice calls out from the kitchen, "Should we use the Jeno's or the Totino's, Mister Weasel, sir?"
    "Totino's! I'm feeling genereous." He turns and then points at Jessica, "No... no outside..."
    But of course she walks right on by him. He looks sad.
    Though when Jessica comes up to Wade's table she is greeted abruptly by him quickly SLIDING his arm over the tabletop and knocking all of what was on it onto the floor where he proceeds to kick it under the jukebox with loud slams of his boots. "What? Hi? Yes. Sure! We're good!"
    Luis, however, is frowning and leaning over to pick up all the Risk pieces.
    Only for Wade to say sidelong, "No, Luis, leave it man, leave it."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Oh, hey, didn't mean to interrupt your game," she says, setting the pizza on the edge of the table without an inch of apology on her face. Weasel's hey hey hey has faded into the oubliette of memory.

"Who was winning? And more importantly what are we drinking? This is still hot, by the way. Hope you like Italian sausage, hot Soppressata and onions. Don't plan on kissing anybody tonight boys," she adds with a rascally grin. The scrape of the chair can just be heard as she sits across from Wade.

Wade Wilson has posed:
    "What... what are you doing here?"
    Wade seems a touch incredulous, then looks around. "We were drinking..." He scowls as he realizes he broke the bottle of whiskey when he knocked everything off the table. He calls out, "Weaz! Whiskey me, bro!"
    "Fuck you, Wade."
    Though likely a whiskey will be on the way. At some point.
    Wade sits back in his seat, "I have no idea who you even are, lady."
    Which is when Luis pipes up, "Ela e a simpatica senhora que o ajudou."
    "That's right, Luis. It's Officer Icky Spider Spit Arms."
    Luis frowns, "Isso nao e o que eu disse."
    "Well what do you want, Spider-Person?" He says as he proceeds to open the pizza box and lift the front of his mask above his nose and lips, "Some sort of attempt to get in our good graces? HAH!" He proceeds to take a slice of pizza and eat it, while still talking with his mouth open.
    "You think we are so easily..."
    He quickly turns to Luis, "Oh my god, Luis you have to try this." And hands him a slice.
    Then back to Jess, "You think we are so easily swayed. Well you are wrong, Missy!"
    Munch, munch, munch.

Jessica Drew has posed:
White teeth gleaming in a smile, Jessica shakes with laughter, waving her hand no at his barrage of questions. "Does everything have to have an ulterior motive? I wanted a drink and the best pizza outside Napoli. So..." she gestures to the pizza.

"Take it easy, mister. Your friend understands, 'Vivendo a boa vida.' Relax."

She slides a piece of pizza out of the box, and guides the point heavy with toppings to her mouth. "Hot..hot...s'good," she manages around the first bite.

Wade Wilson has posed:
    Wade waves a hand in front of his face as he eats and chews and eats some more. Luis, however, seems unphased by the caloric factor of the pizza and indulges, though still looking back and forth between the two.
    "You wanted a drink and pizza and so you came here..." Wade's eyelets widen with more incredulity as he looks at Luis who answers him with a shrug. He tilts his head. "You're choosing to hang out with us. By choice?"
    Again he seems taken aback, "Oh my god you have no other friends."
    He looks at her, "I am so sorry that is like the saddest thing. Oh my god. This is like an Afterschool special. But like more Latch-Key Kids sad, not so much Billy Got Stuck on the Train Tracks sad."
    "You poor thing." He gasps again and shakes his head as he covers his mouth with one red gauntleted hand.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jess screws her face into her best sad kitten impression, sniffing theatrically, "My secret is out. Oh, please Mr. Deadpond, don't tell anyone. Please. Where else could I go?" The sad face disappears and she shrugs elaborately, slice of pizza poised for another bite.

"Besides how would I know you'd be here. Everybody who is anybody hangs here. To hell with the Hellfire club," she adds primly in her best received pronunciation accent.

Pizza occupies her for a moment when she finishes the slice. "Do you always go around..." she wriggles her fingers in front of face then points at him, "...masked?"

Wade Wilson has posed:
    "Well, you could be stalking me," He says and looks at Luis who answers with a shrug, though perhaps offering that as a possibility since he does not disagree.
    "Or this could be a bet that you lost for coming in fourth in the SHIELD's hottest agents contest." His mask's eyelets rise up as if this was indeed a possibility. Then he takes a bite more of the pizza and chews and chews and chews.
    Which is when she asks about his mask. "What this? God no. It's hell on the pores, I get acne for days if I wear this too long. Bad skin condition." And then he _whips_ the mask off revealing all of his lovely cancer-ridden features as he smiles with curiously pearly whites. "See, what do you think? Should I try Proactiv? Be honest with me."
    Luis, however, sees Wade and suddenly spits up part of the pizza on the floor. While a few others nearby have similar reactions. Across the bar Weasel shouts, "WADE! MASK! NOW!"
    "I am not supported, nor loved." Wade says with a smile then tugs the mask back on, his cosmo-ranger hat having fallen off his head.
    He takes another bite of pizza.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jess's green eyes flicker between the two, giving Luis a disappointed shake of her head. "An ego bigger than your mouth, Wade. You flatter yourself." She joins him in a reflective chew on another piece of pizza. "You /should/ have seen the other three agents. Goddesses. And, God, I love this pizza. They deliver you know, but the bartender might kill me." Batting her long eyelashes, "Order me a grappa, would you?"

When Wade whips the mask off his face, Jess swallows and her mouth drops open. She limits herself to, "I didn't know." Odd that it wasn't in the SHIELD dossier concerning him. Of course, after their last encounter she read as many of his files as her rank allowed her.

"No, obviously, they don't love you," she says, recovered from the surprise, hiding her curiosity.

Sadly, "I should have ordered two but had no idea I'd be sharing with friends. Too bad what's his face doesn't like people bringing their own food."

Wade Wilson has posed:
    "Ah, ehn, eh, eeh." Wade just makes a series of noises as if not wanting to do any of those things, "It was Natasha. Which, I mean, ok you can't really fault that one. Agent Morse, which, whew, she can mock my bird any time. And Agent May." He spreads his hands, "What can I say? I love an older woman who just glares at you with hatred even when she's in love with you."
    He grabs another piece of pizza and shares it with Luis, chewing for a time, his mask still partially pulled up so he can munch munch.
    He points at her, "When... I mean, forgive me, I sometimes have bouts of, shall we say, convenient retroactive continuity covered up as amnesia. But I don't remember us becoming friends? Did we have like a limited series run or something? Go on a road trip to Japan to save Wolverine from a Ninja Ghost? What?"

Jessica Drew has posed:
Mouth set in a pout that she holds for all of three seconds before Jess breaks into a laugh. "Not friends then. Fine with me. Piss in your own drink for all I care, Wade. And, I'll get my own grappa."

She rises, "You can keep the box in my memory then. I'll let Natasha, Morse and May know how much you appreciate them."