16360/Meanwhile...

Meanwhile...
Date of Scene:	17 November 2023
Location:	Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Girls
Synopsis:	Now Bear With Me. I play the character straight. But they're a cokehead!
Cast of Characters:	Wade Wilson, Jessica Drew, Cable, Quiet, Monica Chang

---

Wade Wilson has posed:
    There are few things more depressing than a dive bar in the early morning hours, and Sister Margaret's is no exception.
    The room is mostly empty save for a handful of lost souls pre-occupied with what might pass for their morning routine. For one such as Wade Wilson that primarily involves a nice hot pot of coffee sitting on his favorite table. In his hand is his cellphone, thumb casually scrolling. Currently he's wearing comfortable furry slippers for the chilly mornings of this time of year, striped white and blue boxers, a flak jacket, and his mask.
    Poor Weasel is absent, though his location is likely indicated by the fact the Women's Bathroom door is held open by a plastic bucket filled with water and the sounds of sloshing can be heard from within.
    Wade sips his coffee.

Jessica Drew has posed:
It's Wednesday but Jessica is not dressed in tailored office clothes and is happy about it. Instead, she is outfitted in a pair of her oldest jeans, frayed at the knees, running shoes so old that no self-respecting teenager would be caught dead in them and a cabled hunter green sweater, baggy in the elbows and stretched at the neckline. Anti-chic. She doesn't give a damn.

Leaning forward, she takes the pencil she has been chewing out of her mouth and fills in a vertical line in the crossword puzzle from the London Times then takes a sip of coffee.

Cable has posed:
For the most part Cable has been spending his time in Madripoor these days. Between the team generally making a nuisance of itself to the local powers that be and his hunt for information on the whereabouts of the Transhumanist leader John Sublime he certainly has plenty to keep him occupied.

Of course, when one has access to a cloaked satellite orbitting the earch and future technology that lets him bodyslide most places that he needs to, it's not a big deal for Nathan Summers to do a little commuting from time to time. Hit all the garden spots.

And probably find fights, cause trouble and blow them up. If nothing else the future solider is pretty damn consistent.

At the moment the grizzled veteran of countless tables is seated at a table in the corner. Instead of a pot of coffee or even a sterner sort of drink this early in the morning he has a small arsenal of advanced weaponry laid out in front of him, carefully disassembling them and putting them back together once thoroughly cleaned and checked.

Some people might question the wisdom of having that many guns in a bar, even one as seedy and disreputable as Sister Margaret's.

Cable calls those people pansies. Among other, more colorful names.

Wade Wilson has posed:
    The cup is held up in front of Wade's slightly lifted mask, his scarred mouth resting on the lip of the coffee mug. His brow knits slightly as something on his phone apparently strikes his interest or annoyance. His features twist slightly, his thumb moves to swipe away this momentary agitation. Ah, there, it is gone. Bliss.
    He takes a deep breath, lowers his mug a little, exhales slowly. He lowers his phone and his white eyelets widen slightly as he looks off into the distance as if imaginging that he should perhaps buy a boat.
    Then he shakes his head and lowers his head again.
    Wade sips his coffee.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jessica spares a glance and a grimace for Wade fidgeting with his phone then fills in a horizontal line transecting the last entry. She pushes her dark hair back over one shoulder, tapping the eraser end of the pencil on the table, counterpoint to the clicks and clacks of high tech killer hardware being put together at the next table.

One white incisor presses her bottom lip as she considers the next clue then she reaches for her coffee cup. Pausing with it between table and mouth, she narrows her eyes, searching for the slippery answer.

Cable has posed:
While the crowd that usually populates Sister Margaret's is a pretty familiar one for the most part -- especially at this time of day -- it is still a dive bar that rarely closes. And while the regulars will usually run off anyone who doesn't look like they belong, none of them seem particularly eager to get out of their seats, settling for just shooting covert glances towards the dark haired woman.

That says a lot.

Or it just might mean that everyone present has a hangover. Which, given this particular bunch is hardly an unlikely possibility.

Still, the cyborg from the future looks up from his work, that stony expression never shifting, straight-faced as ever. And while his eyes might no longer be on those weapons in front of him, those practiced hands never cease their work, breaking down, cleaning and reassembling the weapons with a second thought, without the slightest hesitation.

Wade Wilson has posed:
    After a moment, Wade lowers his phone onto the table and looks up, reaching forward to pick up the pot of coffee by the handle on its side. He hefts it and gives it a small swirl, then starts to refill his mug.
    There's a soft plastic-sounding clonk-ka-clonk from the bathroom. Then the sound of running water is heard. All told, however, a lovely normal morning.
    Though after a moment Wade frowns, sitting up straighter as he looks off into the distance. Body language like a suddenly wary Meerkat, the white eyelets of his mask blink a few times. He turns his head quickly, "Guys, cheese it, we're being watched. Everybody back on the clock!"
    He quickly pulls his mask down over his chin and stands up to quickly toss the coffee pot back into the Mr. Coffee plastic frame.

Quiet has posed:
A rumbling engine can be heard out front, followed by a moment of silence.

The door is propped open, and a young woman spins her way inside, holding a pair of donut boxes, and two bags resting atop the boxes.

She spins her way inside, dressed in dark green short shorts, a black tanktop and black fishnet stockings up her legs. She walks with a crisp and determined gait toward the bar where she sets the boxes of donuts down upon its surface, before she sorts it all out, to offer a big smile to the person behind the bar.

A huge smile. A so happy smile.

Why? Who knows. Those who know her, know she doesn't talk. Those who don't know her, might just assume she's a delivery person, or a random nutcase offf the streets.

Either way, some delicious donuts and large cups of coffee are now spread out across the bar.

The young woman just turns away from said bar then, and makes her way toward the pool table area where she begins to pick up and clean up, all while humming a quiet melody to herself...

Jessica Drew has posed:
Setting the pencil down primly next to her folded newspaper, Jessica raises her head to glare at Wade. Grimace or glare, she seldom grins at him. The door closing merits more attention as well as the woman bringing in breakfast treats. She knows that smile and makes no assumptions about what is behind it.

"Any powdered ones?" she asks, not too hopefully. Most people like glazed ones or shudder, chocolate covered ones. The former being something she would eat as a last resort.

Cable has posed:
While Cable might not spend quite as much time as Wade here, he never the less knows most of the regulars on sight. He has even worked with a few of them. Frequently as a last resort. But then he has worked with a lot of sketchy people when the need is there. Or when the stakes are high enough that he just can't be too picky.

Of course, some of those familiar faces are a little more familiar then others. And certainly more dependable. Fortunately Quiet definitely falls into that later category, particularly after she has helped him and the team out with a few scrapes as of late.

A little smirk slides over his face as coffee and donuts are deposited on the bar and he watches her stroll straight over towards the pool table with some interest.

But it doesn't linger and instead the hulking future soldier stands and starts to walk towards the bar, a pointed stare for anyone who even so much as glances towards his table loaded down with weapons. Digging through the box, he quickly makes his selection. Chocolate-covered.

He's not so picky it would seem.

Wade Wilson has posed:
    "Hey Q," Wade says as he's already walking back across the room, stepping behind the bar counter and leaning down to disappear from view for a moment. There's the sound of a metal door opening as Deadpool pulls open the dishwasher and from within produces the lower half of his costume.
    Stepping back around the counter he's shaking off some of the water from that red and black garment, eyeballing the donuts. "Shit, give me a second. I'll think of something funny to say."
    He leans on the edge of the table, "Something something, did you steal those shorts from The Boy Wonder, something? I don't know. Pass. Cable you try."
    Though as he says that the corner of his mask pulls up, since _that_ he found funny. Cable with humor. HAH.

Quiet has posed:
Jessica's asked question garners Stef's attention from across the nearby pool table. She nods two quick times in confirmation of the desired flavor of donut, before she sets back to her goal of picking up the trash. She happily moves about like a wee lil butterfly, gathering up even the smallest bits of discarded refuse.

A smirk is given toward Wade when he acknowledged her, the Merc with the Mouth getting a salute from the Merc without Words.

The crinkling of plastic unfurling can be heard, as she produces a grocery bag from the back pocket of her dark green denim shorts. Sweep sweep sweep. She puffs the bag out before dropping the bits of trash she's gathered up inside of it.

Dutiful. Ever the cleanly helper whenever she is around, Stef meanders about, continuing to scour the 'School' for more GARBAGE to toss in her plastic sack.

Jessica Drew has posed:
"I'm chuffed. You've made my day," Jessica replies, rising from her chair, moving with the natural grace of her kind to select a treat from the box. A smile spreads over her face after she thumbs it open. "Bless you, Quiet. Not one but two." Turning to the room, she announces, "All mine. You can have the rest."

Powder sifts to the tabletop which Jess ignores while taking her first bite. "Mmmhmmmm, still warm. Pure bliss," she delicately wipes some sugar from the corner of her mouth.

Monica Chang has posed:
It was early. Far too early. Yet, the it was time to take care of some business. Which meant a trip to St. Margaret's School for Wayward Girls. Better known to those that frequented the place as the Hellhouse. She wasn't in her uniform at least, though this was official business so she probably should be. Yet, instead she was wearing a pair of black pants with matching boots. A lightweight black leather jacket over a white t-shirt.

She stepped in and looked around, getting her bearings and eyeing the clientele. The way she was scanning, it was obvious she was looking for someone specific. And she did not follow the unwritten rules of not making eye contact with the mercenaries unless one wanted to get into a fight. Which perhaps was a bad thing. Or perhaps they would think twice about bothering her.

One never knew in this place.

When she didn't see the person she was looking for, she spotted the next most likely subject who should be able to answer her questions. Thus she strode right toward Deadpool. "Looking for Weasel. I know he's here somewhere. Help me out and save me time having to search?"

Cable has posed:
Taking a bite from his donut, Cable turns slowly towards Wade as he emerges from around the corner of the bar, pants leaving a trail of dripping water across the dirty floor. The possibility that the floor might get even a slight cleaning from Deadpool's antics might be able to almost make up for the rest of it.

Except some grime is so deeply ingrained that a little water isn't going to do anything to improve the situation. Sandblasting might not do anything to improve the ambience of Sister Magaret's.

But then that's the way the regulars like it.

"Most of my worst nightmares involve you being pantsless. Put them on," the grizzled soldier from the future says flatly. Which is probably saying something. Cable has probably seen some serious shit.

Turning away, he dips his head towards Quiet ever so slightly, a rare gesture of respect to a fellow professional. And he extends a rare courtesy. He actually calls on that telepathic ability to let the silent woman direct her inner voice as needed.

The metal of his arm gives the slightest ripple as he does so, and Cable gives a small grimace, standing stock still and focusing for a moment until the seemingly alive metal settles back into gleaming smoothness.

Wade Wilson has posed:
    "That's not what you said last night, Nathan."
    As he's pulling on those kevlar pants, Wade has one leg pushed into their depths, while the other is supporting his weight. He manages to keep his balance mostly, though he's doing a small one-legged jig, hopping slightly as he stands there next to the bar and his table. He looks up and sees Yet Another Shield Agent Chang.
    Loudly, Wade answers her, "WHAT OFFICER? I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE WEASEL MIGHT BE."
    As Deadpool pointedly stands in the way between Monica and the Women's Restroom, which just so happens to be open with a plastic bucket holding the door ajar.
    Of course a few moments later there's the sound of a window sliding open as well as the hurried clatter of something wooden being dropped on the floor from within that lavatory.

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Loose lips, Wade. You'll embarrass, Cable." Jess steadily ignores Wade getting into his pants, distaste twisting her lips. Shaking her head at the clatter of wood from the bathroom, she gives Chang a rueful look.

"Want help? Or should we let him go?" She finishes the donut and wipes the last traces from her chin. With a frown, she wipes the powder from the counter with a head tilt of apology to Quiet.

Quiet has posed:
When Jessica finds her favorite donuts in one of the boxes, and seems grateful for it, Quiet responds by letting the grocery bag hang from her wrist as she forms a 'heart' with her hands. The grocery bag is dropped back to her fingers by its handle, and the young woman goes back to gathering up junk left around the room. She crouches down behind the second pool table as Monica strides in, reaching under the table to grab a broken pocket knife off the floor, which she turns around to stare at the damaged resin handle, and jagged steel blade. She shrugs her shoulders inside of her black tanktop (with a Baby Yoda sipping soup decal on the front of it) and stuffs the knife in to her back pocket.

Standing up again beside the second pool table, Quiet pauses as she eyes something in one of the corner pockets of the table itself. She steps closer, peering down inside, then dips her right hand inside it.

When she draws her hand out she's holding a sock... She raises it up to stare at it as it dangles down from forefinger and thumb.

"Mmh." Stef emotes, before she drops the sock in to the grocery bag of juuuunk.

Turning then, Stef offers a wave toward Monica, along with a smile for her, as she shuffle shuffle shuffles toward the back door of the bar. It's then that she passes by Nathan, who gets a playful grin from her, just as he makes that telepathic link that she's come to know. "Oh, thank you. Hello to everyone." Her melodic voice waves through the other's minds, laced with a Dutch accent.

At the back door now, a simple butt bump opens the pressure handle, and with the morning sunlight filtering in, Quiet slips out in to the back alley, likely to dump the bag of trash in the dumpster out back!

Monica Chang has posed:
"Dammit, Wade!" As soon as he's raising his voice, she knew what he was doing. But should she be surprised? This was Deadpool she was talking about. She spied the bucket behind him, thanks to his bouncing diversion attempt.

Which is when he learns it is not tactically sound to try to block someone when hopping on one foot. Monica charges forward, hands finding his shoulders as she times it with one of his hops, hooking a leg behind the one he had been balancing on while it was about a half inch off the floor. Enough to send him to the floor on his back instead of allowing him to land on that foot again, with the forward /push/ at his shoulders.

Then she is past him and charging into the bathroom even as she yells back over her shoulder, "I got this but thanks!" Sounds of grunting, then a thud, followed by Weasel saying a few choice words. He was led back into the main room, Monica holding onto his arm to be sure he didn't make another run for it.

"Really? It is too early in the morning for this shit," she muttered at him as she brought him back to the bar area. And that is when she acknowledged the others. Stef got a quick nod and a momentary blink when those words floated into Monica's brain. Cable got a nod. Jessica earned an actual smile since she was the one Monica knew the best.

And then there was Wade. Who she glared at. "You are lucky this isn't work official." Then she turned back to the target of her ire--Weasel.

"You said you'd have my money today. It's been three weeks. Pay up."

Cable has posed:
"It is, in fact, what I said last night. I make a point of doing so every night. Sometimes two or three times. Even when you're not there," Cable retorts quietly, polishing off that chocolate covered donut with one more big bite.

He doesn't exactly linger over food. Possibly something he picked up fighting for his life in the future.

Or maybe it's just a general lack of manners. Though that too can probably be traced back to growing up in a post-apocalyptic future. So either way. He gets a bye.

He gives a small smirk as Quiet continues to putter around, cleaning the place up. Which is a pretty nice gesture really, given that Weasel is far too cheap to actually hire anyone to do the job. So needless to say tidying, cleaning of any sort, is pretty rare.

And you definitely don't want to use the washrooms here.

Maybe it's that lack of regard for cleanliness, or maybe it is simply a matter that someone is roughing Weasel up just about every day. Twice on Sundays. As far as events go, it's not exactly one for concern.

Except for maybe Weasel, but it is pretty clear that what he wants doesn't count for a whole heck of a lot.

So Cable turns back towards his table and the array of high-tech weaponry that is spread across it, padding back over towards it.

"A fool and his money are soon parted Weasel. Isn't that what they say?" he asks conversationally. "Still, it's better then losing your teeth. Pony up"

Words of wisdom. Weasel probably needs better friends.

Wade Wilson has posed:
    Even as Quiet is opening the back door, she might well glance over to the side and see what looks rather like Weasel hanging half in and half out of that entirely too small window, struggling to get his muffin-top waist through the narrow opening. Heaving huffing breaths are heard while in the bar common room proper...
    And then suddenly he disappears with a _RUSH_ of motion, popping back into the bathroom where that loud clatter and thumping is heard.
    Wade, for his part, lies on the floor coughing that whispery raspy ragged cough one has when the wind has been knocked out of them, his hands still around the waist of his pants that are now on at least with one leg pulled up entirely too far to be comfortable.
    Quietly, softly, Wade whispers something. But only those with the mental link will hear...
    << Painful. Lungs. Burning. >>
    He rolls slooowly over onto his side. << Groin. Completely Destroyed. >>
    He ends up on his hands and knees. << Zipper. I hate you. Hey... I think that's a haiku. >>
    Yet by that time Weasel's brought in roughly by Monica and he's already dissembling. "Hey hey now, gentle. I have a skin condition, be gentle." Though that skin condition didn't stop him from hurtling through the window.
    "I said I'd have your money on A Friday. I didn't say which Friday."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Up to you." Jessica shrugs, watching with interest as the scientist barrels into Wade, leaving him to turtle on the floor. She does refrain from taking the second powdered donut that she had her eye on. It's only polite while a colleague is taking down a target.

Quiet receives a shake of the head when she holds up the sock and points to Wade on the floor. "I'd wash my hands if I were you."

Her green eyes light with laughter at Monica's demand. "Really? You trusted him?"

Quiet has posed:
Out in the alley behind the bar, there is sun shining down on half of it, while a long shadow takes up the other half. Quiet is happily standing in the sunlight, her strange physiology feeding off of it more than the average person, and as it so happens the dumpster is right beside the window that Weasel is trying to crawl out of.

Naturally he's asking Quiet for help, and she's just smiling at him, while offering him a wave of her right hand after dropping that bag of trash in to the bin.

When Weasel is pulled back inside, Quiet spends a moment just soaking up some of the delicious early morning sun rays.

The backdoor does eventually snap open again though, with a column of light heralding Stefani's return to the dimly lit interior of the divey-watering-hole.

She looks over to the group of patrons by the bar, as she sweeps past the bathrooms, peering inside them.

Huff.

That might even be too big a job for her to clean u--- Oh, nope, she's opening a closet door and rooting around for cleaning supplies, just all bent over in the doorway as she moves stuff around, making fairly loud clattering noises as she starts gathering stuff up to tackle that next chore.

All while humming that tune of hers.

Monica Chang has posed:
Monica stares at Weasel for a long moment. Then looks to Jessica and the others, as though perhaps they can help her with this conundrum. "I said to have it Friday. Any normal person would..." And she stops. Because she just answered her own question.

"Normal person. Fuck." She doesn't quite facepalm but one could imagine her doing so with that tone of voice. She takes a breath then looks at Weasel again, giving a little tighter squeeze on his arm. "You have my fifty bucks tomorrow morning or I take it out by teeth count. One tooth for every dollar. And since you don't have that many teeth, I'll start taking other...things." She didn't say what things. Honestly, it was better if his imagination ran wild. Then she let him go.

And turned to more social things. "Good morning. Ohhh, donuts!" And she was heading for the box to see what might be left inside. And if it was one of those crusty uniced things, she was going to be sorely disappointed. "How is everyone?"

Wade Wilson has posed:
    "Don't mind me," Wade coughs while lying on the floor, both hands on his groinalcological area. "Just step over me... there, yeah... good. Good, don't want to get in the way of your donut acquisition."
    Deadpool winces as he pulls his pants down a little bit, but then gets his other leg back into them and pulls them up with a faint crunch of leather and kevlar. Then there's a loud zipper whir of metal teeth and a slightly high pitched squeak before Wade sits up. "Ok, there, all better."
    Weasel though had been listening rather attentively to Monica and when she said 'normal' he sort of nervously half-smiled and gestured with one hand as if to say, 'See?!' but then he nodded. "Right right. Tomorrow. Gotcha gotcha."
    He turns and starts to walk behind the bar, casually thumping a hand on Wade's shoulder and leaning down to tell him, "Thanks for trying, buddy. Man that chick is cold."
    To which Wade answers, "Yeah, but, seen her Instagram? It's like." He spreads one hand to the side and shakes his masked head. "It's like, off the hizzy. Do people still say hizzy?"

Jessica Drew has posed:
No longer resisting the siren call of the second donut, Jessica picks it up and salutes Monica with it. "Doing well, here. You?"

The donut produces a tiny snow storm of powdered sugar when she takes the first bite. "You got it in one, Chang. Normal. Yeah. No. Not him or him." She gestures toward Wade before taking another bite.

"Oh, and Weasel, believe her. We dont call her Chang the Terror for nothing."

Quiet has posed:
With a series of tools and cleaning utensils prepared inside of a push bucket, Quiet descends upon the men's room doorway first. She tests it, pushing it open and peaking inside. With a heavy huff, she leans the mop and bucket against the exterior wall before slipping in to the Men's restroom.

A second later, and she's re-emerging butt-first, dragging a man out of the interior of the restroom. The man being a low level fellow known as 'Bike Chain' around here.

He's unconscious, likely asleep from way too much to drink last night. Dressed in cut up jeans, a denim vest and a GnR tshirt, Quiet drags his heavy ass all the way over to the pool tables before she lays him down again. She steps over 'Bike Chain' and marches once more toward the restroom doorway.

Push open.

She strides on in, and begins turning on all of the sinks, one by one.

Coming back out, she glances over at the others, smiling toward them before she takes the mop bucket and wheels it in to the restroom.

Bike Chain lets out a little groan as one of his booted feet twitches, from where he lays on the floor beside the pool tables now.

Monica Chang has posed:
That had Monica lifting her eyebrows as she mouthed the words 'Chang the Terror' to Jessica with a curious look. She was not aware of this nickname. Or perhaps it was not one but was just a statement being used to help intimidate Weasel.

Though, she didn't really find she was bothered by it either. She really had some issues in the old brain.

She found there as one Boston creme and thus that was claimed as her own as she pulled the donut from the box. A quick look around and she saw a pile of napkins behind the bar. But therein lies the conundrum. In a place like this, with the napkins just out like that, were they /really/ clean?
Shepeaking of cleaning, she eyed Stef heading into the bathroom then watched as Bike Chain was unceremoniously ousted from the area to relocate into the pool zone. Then she looked back to Weasel. "You can't pay me my fifty bucks but you can hire a cleaning person? I'll remember this Weasel."

Then back to Wade as he mentions Instagram. Which has her looking utterly confused as she didn't have an Insta. Then it sank in and there was a brief moment of recognition. "That was way back in college." Less than two years ago. "How did you come across them?"

As soon as the question was out of her mouth, she was already regretting them.

Wade Wilson has posed:
    "Where there's a will there's a way, Moneylumps." Wade pulls himself slowly back into his seat and _finally_ turns to the box of donuts, pulling it up and lifting the lid to peer inside, then side-eyes right at Chang and grimaces as it's clear she just took the Boston Creme. He _always_ gets the Boston Creme. Those white eyelets of his mask narrow dangerously.
    "Of course you know, this means war."
    Though whatever that ominous sentiment means, the next moment Weasel is answering Monica without looking at her as he wipes down the counter, "Oh no. You think I'd hire a cleaning lady? You're clearly delusional about how much I pull down in this place."
    Weas continues to scrub the countertop, then points at Quiet as she steps on into the Men's Room, "This girl here does this all pro-bono. She's nice. A little..." He makes a motion to the side of his head even as he pulls open the dishwasher.
    Then his tone instantly changes, "The fuck, Wade, did you put your pants in here again? There's bubblegum everywhere!"

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Mhrrrff." Jessica's mouth is too full of donut to justify herself to Monica. Lips pursed, eyebrows arched, she swallows and shrugs unapologetically.

After another bite, "You're stronger than you look, Quiet. He's a big fellow." She watches, willing to let Quiet express herself through cleaning without any need to help. No guilt here. She keeps a clean apartment, bathes daily, and has a neat desk at work, as well as a very neat weapon kit.

"Insta, Chang? Really?" Then nearly chokes at Weasel's discovery. "Him." She gestures with the last bite of donut. "Not so clean."

Quiet has posed:
"I am full of surprises." Comes the sing-song voice of the Cleaning Woman inside the Men's restroom. The door finally stopped swinging on its hinges, but the sound of running water was still audible through it.

Finally though, the water is shut off, and a second later the sound of a wet mop hitting the floor can be heard.

Followed by a dainty sneeze.

"Weasel. Have you ever cleaned this place at all?" The disembodied voice questions from the other room, followed shortly by the sounds of toilet seats being dropped down, and paper towels being pulled out of the metal box that is hung upon the tiled wall beside the entrance.

Followed by another dainty sneeze.

Bike Chain smacks his lips as he rolls over on to his side beneath the second pool table's end.

Monica Chang has posed:
"He puts his pants in there regular enough you had to ask it that way?!" Monica was now horrifed. As she made a mental note to drink nothing in this place that didn't come from a sealed bottle. And best from the bottle itself. Nothing poured in a glass. Ever. No matter how many times Weasel stood there with a towel wiping them.

She gave a little shudder then tilted her head at the voice inside it again. "I mean, if you enjoy it, good on you. No judgement. Though definitely not my thing. It's why I keep my place kind of bare so there is less to have to clean." Sure, that's why she had a spartan lifestyle. Nothing at all to do with the Red Room upbringing certainly!

Though she was still holding the donut, with one bite missing and the lovely cream filling exposed. She looked from it to Wade then back to the donut before taking a very slow and exaggerated bite which she added yummy noises to to see if she could exacerbate Wade further.

Wade Wilson has posed:
    Answering Quiet's mental 'words', Weasel calls toward the bathroom, still not used to Cable's mental communications, so he shouts as well as broadcasts openly onto that telepathic channel. "Once a year I wrap myself in saran wrap put on my dad's old welding helmet then spray the whole place down with the water hose from out back. It works and by the end of the day I'm high from all of the acetone I use."
    As for Wade his eyelets keep that narrowed dangerous look and as he is so rudely insulted by her enjoyment of HIS donut, he points at her. "Either I'm about to shoot you, or I'm getting very Sam and Diane, David and Maddie, Spike and Buffy, vibes from this. That last one is so I seem more with it and trendy. How did I do?"
    Though he does get distracted by Jessica as he points at her, "Hey, don't go poo-pooing people for their Social Media, DREW. I've seen your onlyfans. So you back off!"

Jessica Drew has posed:
With a leer, Jessica agitates her hand cupped like she is holding something, gesturing in Wade's direction. "Jealous?"

She wipes the corners of her mouth, barely holding back a grin for Chang the Terror as she finishes off the much desired cream donut. "Always knew I liked you, Chang. Keep up the good work."

Over the mental channel, "You,too, Houston, once a year is not enough."

Quiet has posed:
There is just a 'huff' in response to Weasel, as apparently Huffs can transmit over telepathy links too.

The Men's room door is pushed open, and a trash bag is brought out filled with God only knows what. Stef holds it in her left hand as she quickly shuffle-steps toward the back door, like time is of the essence with the bag being taken outside as quickly as possible!

The back door is cast open without any remorse for its well-being, and Stef just launches the bag toward the dumpster a handful of meters away from the back stoop. The sound of thudding reverberates in from outside, and with a self-satisffied smirk, Stefani steps back in to the bar, letting the door close with a clack behind her. She places her hands upon her hips then, and exhales a heavy sigh, her bottom lip vibrating against her upper lip, as a puff of air is sent up to cause her dangling dark brown bangs to dance about her brow.

"There was something dead in there." She states to all parties involved, through the mysterious mind link connection, before she starts marching toward the restrooms again, this time dragging the mop bucket toward the Women's room.

Monica Chang has posed:
At that statement from Stef, Monica immediately turns her head to look at Bike Chain. No, he was moving. Not dead. So there had been something else dead in the bathroom and no one had bothered letting Weasel know to clean it out.

Or worse, they had.

Then it is back to the conversation at hand and she grins over at Jessica after she swallowed that bite of donut. "Yeah, I'm pretty awesome and stuff." More said for humor than a statement of truth. Though, she kinda was. In a weird sort of way? Maybe?

Then she looked at Wade and there was no doubt of the confusion. "Who?" Because she was of a certain age and thus she had no idea what he was talking about on any of those names he'd throw out there. "Considering I have no idea who you are talking about, I'm guessing not trendy and thus you failed. Again."

And with that, she turned to start heading for the door. "Anyway, I have to get to work. Weasel, tomorrow! No more excuses. You better do whatever you have to tonight to get better tips from this crowd." A look at Bike Chain. "Good luck with that. Jessica, see you later. And nice to see you again, Houston!"