14051/Queen's Gambit

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Queen's Gambit
Date of Scene: 06 February 2023
Location: Central Park
Synopsis: Wade plays chess. Betsy spectates.
Cast of Characters: Wade Wilson, Betsy Braddock




Wade Wilson has posed:
    The chess scene in central park near the Chess and Checkers House visitor center often takes a hit during the Winter. The biting cold, the rise in wind, the occasional snow... it all combines to create a less than positive atmosphere for the playing of the great game. There are fewer players, fewer observers, and fewer food carts and trucks in the area.
    But still there are some die hard players. Players who show up rain or shine and who take a seat at one of the tables, put up their 20 bucks to go against one of the people. Then the winner stays on, holding sway. Sometimes a particularly good player can stay in his seat for hours and hours at a time. Usually the only sound beyond that of the traffic is the click of the timers and the occasional snappy trash talk.
    But right now there's another sound, the sound of aluminum containers clinking and clanking against each other, as well as the sound of squeaky wheels as a Trader Joe's shopping cart rolls on up filled to the brim with a half dozen over-flowing paper bags filled with nothing but Maple Spiced Whipping Cream, all clattering together, somewhat dusted with snow.
    And a single jar of maraschino cherries.
    The cart stops beside one of those tables, an elderly black man looking up grumpily at the man pushing that cart. None other than Wade Winston Wilson, garbed in black and red, swords on his back, and his mask's white eyelets widening as he says.
    "Sup. Game me, baby." And as he says that he thwaps down a 20 dollar bill and takes a seat.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
Admittedly, jogging in the winter wasn't nearly as enjoyable as the spring or summer. Between the snow potential soaking through shoes if they were not properly water proofed and the cold air itself, it just didn't have that same appeal. Yet, it was still better than a treadmill. Certainly a treadmill was better than nothing but being out in nature--as much as one could get in New York City--with the scenary passing by was statically better. People ran longer than they might on a treadmill staring at a screen or wall or tv.

Thus, Betsy was out having a jog after her earlier yoga. She'd gotten up late this morning, the night before having run into the wee hours before she finally managed to get to sleep. Yet, she had no actual business she had to attend so she was going to get caught back up on those lost hours.

She was dressed comfortably in her hoodie over a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Not particularly complimentary to her appearance, though they were in a lovely lilac shade. It was about function and warmth. She had just been running about ten minutes when she passed the Chess and Checkers area. Only to slow her steps to a standstill as she spotted the red and black costumed figure sitting at a chessboard with another player.

Immediately, she was scanning the area visually and mentally, expecting there to be someone hiding in the bushes from the merc with a mouth. Or perhaps waiting to attack him. Either way, she should probably stay to be sure the civilian was safe. Unless that was Deadpool's target? So many possibilities and all of them made her nervous.

She approached at a walk, coming to a stop a polite distance away to watch the game but not calling attention to herself.

Wade Wilson has posed:
    There was the click of the timer as Wade's elderly opponent moved a pawn. Which had Wade nodding slowly, supporting his head with one hand, pinky finger lightly tapping the side of his head thoughtfully. He looks back and forth, left and right. Then he says, "The horsies are the ones that get to turn at the end right?"
    But then there's the faintest, slightly, lightest _scuff_ of a sneaker squeak from Betsy's gait being drawn to a halt near. Just enough to be heard.
    Which is when Wade, indeed, does move the horsey and sets it down with a click on the board. He slaps the timer with one hand, then straightens up and puts a finger to his lips as he shushes Betsy most sternly.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
Damned trainers. Yet the cat was out of the bag, as the saying went. He was now aware of her but she remained at that proper distance. No crowding. No hovering. No backseat Chess-ing by making suggestions or comments.

Betsy did manage to keep her eyes in their normal positions instead of rolling back in ehr head as he asked about the horsey. Though she also finds herself wondering if he's hustling the older man he is playing. Or perhaps he was about to be the one hustled. Time would tell.

Wade Wilson has posed:
    While it was the other player's turn, Wade piped up and chatted amiably. "So, live around here much?" He says oh so casually.
    To which the elderly gentleman gave Wade a stern glower. Then he spared a glance at the shopping cart, then back to the man in front of him.
    "Oh those... you don't need to worry about those. They're for later." The corners of his mask curve upward.
    His eyebrows lift upwards, "I mean, unless you're bored later. Al isn't choosy." His head bobs, "She is blind after all."
    Then he turns in his seat and _affixes_ Betsy with his white eyeletted gaze.
    "Hey!"
    He points at her, and she can see where his lower lip would be it is bitten as if trying to keep control of his temper. "You back there, shush it. Shewsh! All the way. Shewshing it. You're thinking so loud. Shewsh."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
There was a hint of a smirk from Betsy as he did that. For two reasons. Because she had a bad sense of humor at times was the first. As evidenced by her speaking for the first time. "You're telepathic? Perhaps you shoould have told this nice man before you put down your twenty."

Even as she mentally reached over to try to speak to Wade. <I am not thinking very loud at all. Though if you would like me to, I can cause your auditory senses to overload so you think I am. Dealer's choice, as they say in Vegas.>

Wade Wilson has posed:
    "Ohmigod."
    Wade just points at Betsy, then looks over at the elderly gentleman playing the game with him. "I cannot sanction this buffoonery." He says to the man who just sort of... shrugs.
    The timer clicks and flips to Wade-time. He then almost instantly grabs his rook and scoots him into play. "Castle goes swoosh."
    Then it's back to Elizabeth that he points at her, "See, I can tell you're speaking into my brain, but it's hard to separate yours from all the others. Though is your voice the silky smooth one that makes me think of a Summer day and bathing nude in the creek? Ok I'll listen to that one."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
She should not be amused. It just encourages him. But the fact he chose to use that phrase to describe her mental voice was amusing. She almost smiled but quickly dropped back to a neutral expression.

A quick scan of the board and the pieces on it as she mentally played along how she might have differed. Interestingly, she actually wasn't finding his play to be as insane as one might think from his mouth.

But Betsy did look over at that shopping cart, moving closer and peeking into a bag. What she saw caused surprise to show on her face then she looked over at Wade in confusion.

Wade Wilson has posed:
    The only answer Betsy gets when she discovers the contents of the bags is him turning to wink at her side long as he says, "How _you_ doin?"
    But then the clock clicks over to Wade time and he spins back in his seat, almost knocking over his queen with the brush of one hand. He pauses and surveys the board. "Hmmm, hmm hmm, hmmmmmmmmm."
    He tap-taps his gloved fingertips lightly upon the concrete board, his brow furrowing. "Hmm." Then he scoops up a pawn with his protected bishop. He taps the timer.
    Then the elderly man quickly moves and takes Wade's bishop. *CLICK*.
    Then Wade counter-moves, Rook taking bishop. *CLICK*.
    Then there's a back and forth as three more pieces fall. And in the end... Wade has a slightly better position on the board. "Ah hah. You have fallen into the classic trap of the Wilson Cockatiel. Your days are numbered." He says with some melodrama in the words.
    Then he looks at his opponent, "I mean... that can't be news to you though, right. I mean... cuz you're like... super old. Not that there's anything wrong with that!" He meets the angry glower given him with his hands raised in conversational surrender, "They have pills for everything these days I'm sure your comparitive quality of life is still super great."
    He turns back to Betsy and she'll see his white eyelets going wide as a pained look touches his features as if he realized the faux pas he just committed.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
To her credit, Betsy does not wince. Nor does she facepalm. Both actions had been tempting in their own fashion as they had been. Instead she just gave Wade a momentary compassionate look. Which again was quickly tucked away behind that mask of hers, that one that wasn't physical. Just a way of schooling her fatures to give nothing away.

Though she did look at the bags again then at Wade, opting to change the subject. "Should I ask what all of this is actually for?" She motionts to the bags. But then she espies that something in one is not like the others.

That bag now gets her attention as she finds the cherries and takes them out of the bag. And of course she twists the top to immediately open them as well. "I'll owe you a jar," she offers by way of an 'apology'.

Wade Wilson has posed:
    "Hey!" Wade suddenly shoots up out of his seat, "Those are not for you. Though..." He straightens up as he looks at Psylocke in that jogging suit and... leans back a little. "I mean... they could be. But as of right now!"
    He reaches over and takes the jar from her unless she executes some of her ninja magic. "Not for you." He then explains, "Big weekend coming up. Some 'me' time." He gives a nod and then pulls his mask up, popping one of the cherries into his mouth and chewing.
    "Also we are not doing the tie the cherry stem into a knot challenge. There are children watching."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
She does not do any ninja magic though it is tempting as he snatches that jar away from her. One perfect eyebrow is arched, a silent question of if he is sure he wants to go down this road with her.

Only to be replaced with a slight wince as he mentions the wekened and 'me' time. That was far more than she needed to know. But that last is what gets her speaking again.

"I wasn't giong to suggest it in the first place. Not a skill I have, admittedly. And not nearly as sexy as people seem to think it is."

Wade Wilson has posed:
    "Oh..." Wade seems to pause, "I just assumed since you're..." He just sort of _gestures_ at Psylocke, as if skills with cherry stems were somehow up her alley. Then he gets a sly look, "Would you like to see the trick? I do it for realsies, no hiding a second stem that's already tied in my mouth. Super sexy I'm told."
    Then there's the click of the timer and instantly Wade does a side cartwheel and lands in his seat again with a thump. He looks at the board, scrunching up one eye. "Did you move my pieces? You totally moved my pieces." But he considers the board anew now.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"In my experience, it generally involves people making faces that are better left unseen," Betsy says as she remembers the scrunching and pursing involved when someone tried to impress her in the past. "I'll take your word on your skill with cherry stems. You don't need to demonstrate."

Because she doesn't need that visual repeated.

As he settles back at the board, she glances at the pieces as he makes his accusastion though she's sure the pieces were not moved. "What purpose does the timer serve? Must you move before a certain time is over?"

Wade Wilson has posed:
    "Ohmigod so much talking." He looks over his shoulder at her accusingly. Then his shoulders hunch as he leans forward and looks at the board, "But yeah. I just see the little numbers go down and when they hit zero you lose for some reason."
    He gives a small shrug, "In any case..." He moves his king to the side one space and the taps the timer. He turns on that bench seat to look at Elizabeth, "Why are you here? Spying on me assuredly, but what particular flavor of spying?"

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"You started it."

A childish comeback perhaps considering, but he was the one that started talking to her first. Thus Betsy felt the need to remind him.

But at the question about her spying on him, she actually laughed in surprise even as she shook her head negatively. "I am not here to spy on you. I was out for a run in the park and saw you. Thus..." And she had to pause, pursing her lips slightly then letting out a puff of air. "Well, at that point I thought I should watch you. Because you are unpredictable and this poor man hopefully would not get the brunt of your special sort of attention." That whole mercenary kind. She gave an apologetic smile to the man Wade was playing against then she focused back on the merc. "Which is not the same as spying as I was not trying to hide my presence."

Wade Wilson has posed:
    "I thought you were..." He gestures with a hand all higgledy-piggledy toward the North. "All off in that crazy commune you people call a school."
    Wade turns back and then eats another cherry, dipping his gloved fingers into the jar and fishing one out. He looks at his elderly opponent and leans forward a little, breathing heavily on the man. Which earns him a scowl and a glower.
    "You hear what she's saying? She's trying to cheapen our love. But I won't let her." He then turns to Betsy.
    "Could be the same as spying, just you're not good at it."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"I believe we both know I am very, very good at it."

Which then she realizes that was not the right way to say things to Wade. So Betsy adds. "Spying is easy enough after all. But for now."

And she did reach out to take that jar of cherries, turning to walk away. "Enjoy your game. You should be losing in..." She glanced back over her shoulder. "Three turns." Then she winked and continued on her way, fishing out a cherry with two fingers and popping it into her mouth as she made her exit.