1740/WITNESS ME

WITNESS ME
Date of Scene:	19 May 2020
Location:	Manhattan, Street Corner of 5th and Main
Synopsis:	Steve and Wade save a kitty in a tree.
Cast of Characters:	Wade Wilson, Steve Rogers

---

Wade Wilson has posed:
< So I was thinking,> runs the text which has now just beeped onto Steve's phone, <I haven't seen you in a while.>

Then there's a pause. <I can tell you're thinking of ideas. Things like Laser Tag, or a Pie-Eating contest.>

There's another pause.

<Are you swimming laps at the Triskelion, is that why no answer? I could stop by there and check. They might shoot me, though. Do you want that on your head?>

<Sorry, you're probably saving a kitten from a tree. Take your time. <3 >

Steve Rogers has posed:
Ping.

Ping.

Steve sighs.

Ping.

The man glances down at his pants pocket and silently curses the advent of this particular modern technology in a moment of pique.

PING.

He turns and looks up the tree further. There is, in fact, a orange tabby cat glaring down at him with pale-green eyes and a swishing tail boding absolutely no welcome. Another sigh and he pauses, clinging to the tree trunk and with a branch tucked to the crook of one knee to fetch his phone.

Reading the slew of texts, he blurts out a laugh, brows meeting.

< Thinking you might be psychic.> is accompanied by a loading symbol and then a picture of the orange cat on the branch, just a little blurred.

Away goes the phone and Steve continues up, dead set on getting Mittens down. Little old Miss Kate is waiting down below as it stands, fisted hands set before her mouth.

Wade Wilson has posed:
< The word you want is 'psychotic' > Deadpool replies.

< I checked. >

< Also, I cheated. > There is no explanation given about how exactly this cheating was done or how Wade was correct about it, and no answer is forthcoming. < I see from the street signs in the picture you are at 5th and Main. I AM CLOSE BY. STANDBY! >

He isn't actually all that close, and isn't magical, so he has to get a ride like most normal human beans. SO he does that. It's not immediate.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Ping. Ping. Ping. PING.

Mittens squints at the barrage of texts. Steve makes a point of setting his booted foot close to the base of this particular branch and advances another step up higher into the canopy of the tree. It feels sturdy enough that he pauses, holding around the trunk, to fish his phone out again.

This text takes a little longer due to needing to use his thumb and the peering out from the spring-green leafing of the canopy for anyone on approach.

<Might need your help if the cat moves to the next tree over, appreciate it.> he sends back before slipping the phone away again. Mittens lets out a low, growling mrrrowwwllllll of warning: come no closer, you strange hairless butler because you are not MY butler!

Wade Wilson has posed:
< I will bring a cat toy! >

That might not help. But some appropriate time later, Wade's UBER drops him off, and he comes trotting over towards the tree. He isn't recognizable at first, since he's incognito using his holographic disguiser thingamabob, but when he gets there and shades his eyes to stare upwards, his voice is easy to recognize.

It's either Wade, or a detective yellow rat has come to thundershock Mittens down from the tree.

"Are you also stuck up in the tree?" Wade calls up.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Ping.

Steve pauses to check this one too, just in case, and nods to himself. Away goes the phone and up he goes another branch. Mittens too goes up a little higher, towards where the branches are skinnier and far more fun for a creature weighing around ten pounds. Somebody climbing into the canopy is far more than ten pounds of muscle.

Still, this somebody has good enough ears. He peers down through the overlayerings of branches to see...Wade-but-not-Wade there.

"No, 'm not stuck in the tree. He keeps going up," shouts down the Captain. The man himself is in blue jeans and a black t-shirt emblazoned with WASP across it in golden lettering. The motorcycle jacket tucked to the tree roots must be his.

Little old Miss Kate gives Wade a lingering look. "You helpin' out Mister America here?" she asks, voice trembling in age. She's in a pink hand-crafted sweater overtop a faded floral print sundress, slippers on her feet, and her silver hair beautifully coiffed.

Wade Wilson has posed:
"Yes," Wade answers dear old miss Kate. He then cups his hands to his mouth.

"Can I just tranquilize Mittens and we catch her before she splatters on the concrete?" Wade yells upwards.

That probably won't bother Miss Kate.

Wade prowls over to roughly underneath Mittens, hands on hips, looking upwards with a thoughtful 'path of falling Mittens' idea in mind, using his hand to calculate mental maths.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Little old Miss Kate gasps. "You leave my Mittens alone!" comes the querulous retort, her age-speckled fist shook at Wade. How those bifocals glint.

"No, you can't tranquilize Mittens and catch him." Steve's voice filters down through the branches easily enough. "He might jump though, so be ready to catch him regardless, okay?"

This report comes after Mittens lets out a very offended sound at the blond super-soldier and clambers HIGHER up into the canopy, now bending the branches beneath his clinging toebeans.

"Cat, come on, 'm not gonna eat you," mutters Steve as he winces, feeling another branch begin to flex beneath his combat boot.

Wade Wilson has posed:
"I wasn't suggesting //I// catch her. Him?" Wade isn't sure. Doesn't matter a bit. "But yeah, let's go with me catching. I might also be able to break your fall, but I'm pretty sure you don't need me to do that unless you land on your back, right?" Wade calls, considering the tree, and then the nearby phone pole. Then back.

"What about chopping down the tree?" Wade suggests as idea number three, shrugging off his duffel bag and digging around in it.

"Scratch that, I did not bring my chainsaw."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Ex//CUSE ME//, young man, who do you think you are?!" Old little Miss Kate is still not impressed at these suggestions, hands now on her hips.

"No, probably not chopping down the tree either!" Steve's voice from on high sounds a little strained now -- probably because he's reaching for Mittens in something akin to a lunge extended off the main trunk, his other hand wrapped around the bark and one foot anchored at the base of a very questionable limb. Bend goes the branch...bendy bend.

Mittens squaaaaalllls and then slips!

And Steve snags the orange cat's scruff on a mandcap snatch.

And of course, the cat immediately tries squirreling around to wrap all four clawed legs around the man's arm.

"OW!!!!"

Wade Wilson has posed:
"I'm coming!" Wade announces loudly in an entirely heroic fashion, and leaps up into the tree, grabbing a limb and turning to flip up his legs onto the next one, twist and sit up on that, and then climb readily from there.

Maybe Wade should have been in the tree, he's an acrobatic monkey. A little showy, true, but he's working his way up quickly, with nimble, ninja footing. "I'll rescue you from tiny needles of claws," Wade assures, accidentally getting a faceful of a tree-branch since he got distracted.

"And that, folks, is one of eighty reasons why we wear a mask," he adds, to nobody (well, the folks like you) while climbing.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Up comes Wade and down clambers Steve, very carefully attempting to not lose his grip on Mittens -- or tumble out of the tree himself. Little old Miss Kate has her fists up before her mouth again now in rapt attention on the entire affair. It's like a screeching, ow-ing, fourth wall-breaking train wreck.

He meets the Merc about halfway down the tall, dignified pine, which remains quite a distance up yet. Forty five, give or take, exist between them and the ground.

"Take 'im the rest of the way down, he'll calm down for Miss Kate," Steve grits out, attempting to hand off Mittens in a manner which saves both him and Wade further bloody scratches. Mittens is just YOOOWWWWWLING now. Wade gets the Look of Death from the orange tabby.

Wade Wilson has posed:
"Why is he named mittens? He doesn't even have white paws," Wade says, asking the important questions while reaching out for mittens. Not that he appears to be, but he IS wearing his leather suit, so kitty claws won't do much to him really. Not that they would even if he were naked, in a lasting way.

"Come Mittens, I will let you face-hug me if you are a nice pussycat," Wade singsongs to the cat, climbing up one more step, and then suddenly reaching out to grab for Mittens' scruff. Wade has handled plenty of animals.

"I've handled plenty of animals. Once I made a jacket with puppies all over it, for a duel. I made a lot of money on that duel when the other side wouldn't fight." That probably made no sense, it might be lacking some parts of the story, but there it is. "I wouldn't put puppies in REAL danger, for reference."

Steve Rogers has posed:
Mittens happily wraps around Wade's arm after the cat has been scruffed -- and even tries biting through the thick leather of the suit with those needle fangs, still growling SO FEROCIOUSLY.

Steve gives the Merc a very sympathetic look. "I believe you have those handling skills. Wish I'd kept my jacket on." He shakes his arm a little, this decorated with scratches but thankfully no puncture marks from sharp kitty teef. "Take him on down, I'll follow," says the Captain as he turns to better hug the tree trunk and let Wade get a head start.

Wade Wilson has posed:
"How are you doing this," Wade asks the cat when it somehow bends around backwards to get at his arm while scruffed. "Don't tell miss Kate, but I am pretty sure her pet is possessed by Mr. Fantastic," he entones. He mostly ignores it anyway, and begins to climb down, with one hand and both feet in concert.

"Pity I put my bag down. That would have made sense up here," Wade observes thoughtfully, while climbing. When they get reasonably close to the ground he jumps, landing in front of Miss-Kate in a hero-pose. Kind of: it also involves raising the cat high like a statue of liberated kitty.

"That's great on the knees," winces Wade. "Worth it."

Wade Wilson has posed:
"I knew you wanted the hero pose landing," Wade yells up into the tree at Steve's ass.

"But mostly this was so I could get a good view upwards."

At Steve's fine American rear.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Miss Kate is apparently the absolute Xanax for Mittens. The very second the orange cat is handed off, he turns into a limp and furry arm-warmer within her hug. "Oh -- oh, thank you, whoever you are," the grey-haired old woman says, sounding close to tears. "And thank you, Mister America!" she calls up into the tree.

Steve offers her a salute off his temple with his non-lacerated hand. "My pleasure, m'am!"

"Now you behave, young man," little old Miss Kate adds, giving Wade a squint. "Mister America is a good example. You be like him." And with that, the little old woman and her cat turn to toddle away, back to the house tucked across the street.

Don't be like Steve, Wade, he's currently cussing under his breath in Gaelic as part of his scratched-up arm brushed on the rough bark of the tree.

Wade Wilson has posed:
"I -- wait. Can I be Miss America?" Wade asks. Which probably doesn't make sense. And he spends most of the next part of the chatter fiddling around with the holographic imager wristband, trying to remember how to make it adjust. He never remembers, there is always some fiddling before....

"Aha!" Done! Miss America is now the visual. She's quite stunning, miss Missouri is, leggy with long, wavy chestnut hair, a black gown, and an appropriate 'Miss America' sash.

Not that it matters, because Miss Kate has already left with Mittens. "Did you just say don't be like a Thneed? I have a Thneed here. Everyone needs a Thneed."

In fact, Miss America bends to the duffel bag to procure a light pink knitted /thing/, but under it are some bandages, which is what /actually/ gets offered by a winking lovely Miss America.

"But I think you need these more. I have some neosporin here too."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"One second, I'll be down for 'em. Appreciate it, Wade," hollers down the Captain as he stretches out a foot towards the next branch down. His luck does not hold out on him. This branch was already stressed on the way up.

CrrrrrrrrRRRRACK!

Steve makes some incoherent sound of surprise as the branch gives out beneath him under ninety-eight percent of his weight. Down he goes, bouncing off another branch in the process -- ow, his kidneys -- and while it isn't far down, it's still that forty-odd feet. Thankfully, it isn't the ground he hits with a loud "OOOF!!!"

Wade Wilson has posed:
Wade saw the disaster coming. And dropped everything he was holding in his pageant-ready arms to move a few feet to his left, peer upwards, and then move to catch the hero falling out of the tree!

It's ... not the best, because Steve isn't exactly a Mittens. But Wade is pretty damn strong (despite looking currently like he might struggle with a gallon of milk), and uses momentum to catch AND sort of spin around. WHEEEEEEE!

"I got you," Wade says kindly, ending the catch with a dramatic backwards dip, as if they'd been dancing. There's lots of holographic cleavage for Steve to be uncomfortable with looking into, too.

<3

Steve Rogers has posed:
Miss America now has Captain America's arms slung around her neck in this dramatically inverted dip. His eyes go wide and he blinks a few times before kick-twitching one of his boots slung off of the pageant-ready arms once, as if to make a point. Very politely, he keeps his regard on Wade-merica's face.

"I appreciate that too, Wade, thank you. Rather not hit the ground that hard. Like to take a look at those bandages now, the neosporin sounds like a good idea."

Little old Miss Kate has absolutely paused on her doorstep and is staring, Mittens still slung across //her// arms. "Do you need any help, Mister America?" she calls across the street, clearly confused.

"No, m'am, thank you, m'am!" Steve calls back patiently as a saint.

"Tell the yound lady she was very helpful catching you!" Miss Kate continues.

"Yes, m'am, I will!" calls back the Captain, now beginning to look even MORE patient, almost theatrically so..

Wade Wilson has posed:
Wade stands Steve up without any problem at all, then moves to help dust him off. "You got some tree there," Wade comments, taking a lot of attention with removing tree debris from Steve's back. And rear. There was tree debris.

Why would you question me on this?

and then pointedly doing ONE more brush, and stepping aside out of the way of the bag of bandaids and medicine. Some of the bandages are 'Stark 2020' brand. That guy made EVERYTHING for his campaign, it seems. Or Wade did. Sometimes those types of things get blurry.

Wade then waits to be told how helpful he was catching, with a bright smile.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Mittens and I thank you!" One last holler from little old Miss Kate across the street and the door shuts. Steve sighs and then is thus set back on his feet.

"Thank you, W -- thank you, 'm -- thank YOU --

All dusted off (and thoroughly dusted off) on his back half, Steve makes a point of dusting off his front half of splinters of bark and needles. He gives Miss Wade-merica another glance before taking up the little bottle of neosporin in particular. As he talks, he gets to smearing the ointment on the scratches with a fingertip.

"Really appreciate your assistance, Wade. Those creatures are squirrely sometimes. Not the first cat 've gotten out of a tree or the first 've fallen out of, but 's'nice to not have to work at getting my wind back." Since the last time, nobody caught him and the wind was knocked out of him.

Wade Wilson has posed:
"I would have dusted your front but I feel like that would have been even weirder for you," Wade stage whispers, but there's a friendly teasing note, not a flirtatious one. Wade isn't particularly going too far, and may not be in the mood for that. Though that shit can change really suddenly.

"Sure thing. I have also rescued people. I can't think of a time right now, but I do all sorts of things. Mostly things that involve bullets or stab-stab if we're being really honest, but those can include rescues of orphans."

A sage nod is added. Then Miss America just observes the use of the bandage items, with no insistance on helping or even any suggestion about doing so. Wade's variable. "How do you get called for this stuff? Like, do you have a twitter feed of pet rescues? Mercenary work is one thing, but this? Do you walk around staring at trees?"

Steve Rogers has posed:
A few bandaids do get stuck onto his arm, but maybe only in the name of whimsy and not necessarily for...necessity. Steve glances up from sticking another along a particularly lengthy scratch.

"No Twitter feed or anything, no. I was in the neighborhood 'nd saw Miss Kate crying 'nd staring up in the tree. Classical trapped cat scenario. Not my first cat rescue, as I mentioned before. One time it was a dog," he shares, half-smiling. "Thing thought it was going to get the Frisbee before the wind did. Much more happy to see me up there than Mittens was."

Wade Wilson has posed:
"I... normally would follow up about the dog in a tree and how it got there, but I have flung a dog into a tree before, so I can actually picture it," Wade considers aloud, as if he were going to start into a story. Then HIS phone beeps.

Well, technically it is a ringtone with some very questionable lyrics. "Cuz I'm a mother lover, You're a mother lover, We should fuck each other's mothers..." sings the ringtone.

"Shit, language," Wade admonishes ... whoever, and picks up his phone, humming with the lyrics a little as he looks at it.

"It's my therapist." That explains it, right?

"I'll come by your room later!" Wade assures Steve, hopefully.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve just stares at the ringtone and then stares at Wade. It's there. It's on the tip of his tongue, bubbling away, censorious and grand and he finally just sighs.

"Language," he agrees in a knowing tone of voice. "'nd sure, Wade, text me before you show up, just in case something's going on." He turns to leave the Merc to take the call and go snag up his leather jacket from the base of the tree. Bespattered with bandaids stating "STARK 2020" up one arm, the man then walks back over to his motorcycle. Wade is given a departing salute as well before he shrugs his jacket on and then leaves the scene.