2043/We all (root beer) float down here

We all (root beer) float down here
Date of Scene:	10 June 2020
Location:	Avengers Mansion - Study
Synopsis:	Steve hangs out with Wade. Puzzles and kittens.
Cast of Characters:	Wade Wilson, Steve Rogers

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Wade Wilson has posed:
The text began very low-key. Really, as low key as it gets from Wade... But that series of emojis isn't enough, and a voicemail followed....

"What's up Stevarino? Let's do a thing! I found a nice room in your mansion that is NOT your room specifically, though I can stop by if you'd rather I stopped by....? Hang on I have another call."

Steve Rogers has posed:
The phone is pulled away from his ear and Steve looks at it before up in the general direction of the Mansion itself. He's paused with a load of laundry in a hamper tucked to his hip, mostly athletic by nature and scrounged up from the lockers allotted downstairs in the workout rooms.

"JARVIS, where is Wade Wilson right now?" the Captain asks the ceiling, glancing up.

"He is in the study at the moment, Captain." Crisp, polite, concise as always, the AI of the building.

"Thank you, JARVIS." Grateful as always, the Captain in question as he then continues walking to his room in order to drop off the hamper. A quick text flies to Wade:

<<Be right there. Have coffee if you want.>>

And a few minutes later, there's Steve. He opens the door, revealing his person in a black t-shirt with 'WASP' across it in golden lettering and jeans. "Did you have coffee then?"

Wade Wilson has posed:
"No, got a root beer float though. And one for you, too. It's not /coffee/, I admit, if that's a qualification for you," Wade comments. He is indeed located in the study, seated cross-legged on the floor to one side, with a huge number of puzzle pieces spread out all over the floor around him. He points directly to the left to one of the tables, where there is a very obvious spare root-beer float there. Wade's is near his knee.

Wade is not in one of his red and black suits; he's in normal-people clothing that includes a yellow pikachu t-shirt, blue jeans, sneakers, a gray hoodie with the hood up. He waves a little bit, picking up a puzzle piece, and twists it around while peering at it.

Wade Wilson has posed:
In case it wasn't apparent, Wade is doing a great impression of normal-people in more than just clothing.

For now.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Oh, haven't had one of those in a long time. Doesn't matter that it's not coffee," Steve adds as he walks into the room. He's admittedly a //little// surprised to see such normalcy at hand, but makes no comment of it. Instead, he retrieves the other rootbeer float and then sits on the table.

His face and head both tilt to see the puzzle and how much of it has been done. "Haven't done that one in a while either. Last time, it was the one with the candies from across one-hundred years. I was reminded that I should know every single one of them," he reports drolly before sipping at the float.

Wade Wilson has posed:
"I didn't see a candies one," Wade laments. He is literally sitting in the very center of the puzzle, as if building a perimeter around himself of the edge pieces, as well as a clump to his right that is likely upside down. The puzzle is happy kittens in a flower basket, so there's a lot of brightly colored pieces to deal with and kitten eyeballs. ALL of the eyes of the kittens have been found and arranged in a row along the top of the puzzle. It's eerie, but not entirely batshit.

Sorting a puzzle isn't batshit. Sorting it so that i'ts staring at you? Maybe questionable. If one wants to walk into a situation where they are questioning Deadpool's motives.

"Just baby kittens being cute fuzzy-faces. Have you ever had a pet?" Wade wonders, conversationally. "Also, come help me find the rest of the orange kitten."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"I actually did have a cat once." Steve keeps his head tilted to watch the pieces being sorted in their manner appropriate to the puzzle-completionist. "Sort of." He sips again at the rootbeer float, eyes sliding from the ring of pieces and to Wade's face.

"His name was Scratch. He was an alley cat I fed scraps too back in Brooklyn, before I accepted the offer about the serum. He was nice...for the most part." A faint laugh and the man's eyes fall to one side, going briefly cloudy in memory.

"He liked me well enough, would let me pet him for a little bit before he'd decide enough was enough 'nd goose off. I never got scratched. Somebody else named him."

Wade Wilson has posed:
"Dawwwwwwwwww," Wade says, charmed, clapping his hands togather twice, then adjusting his sitting position, to raise his knees and loop his arms around his lower legs loosely. "A story about tiny-Steve, before serum time. I like it! I want to know this Steve," Wade encourages, with a warmth and quick laugh.

"Was he.... a tuxedo cat? Smart and fancy?" Wade inquires, as if that were important somehow and might weigh in later about other matters. "I... have not had a pet more than a few days. I think. Time is sometimes.... a bit Jeremy Bearimy. Particularly the timeline part inside the dot of the 'i'."

Steve Rogers has posed:
Smiling to himself, the Captain too sits upright on the table. The rootbeer float is set off to one side (on a coaster) and he then places his hands on his thighs.

"Sure, I can tell you some things, if you want. Don't remember Scratch being a tuxedo cat...think he was a tabby, an orange one. Had a big hole in his ear 'nd a...pink nose. He was a big cat too, bigger'n some dogs I knew from the Upper East Side. Liked trying to eat the greens in the window garden <<Mathair>> used to keep. On that note, have you tried plants, Wade? Tried keeping them, I mean, if pets are hard for you?" He seems earnest in his question.

Wade Wilson has posed:
"What is a Mathair, and why did you annunciate it all funny? Or am I mis-reading? Mis-hearing, I mean?" Wade wonders, looking down at his puzzle and pouncing one hand on a cat nosey, to put that with the disembodied kitten eyes. The row is now just kitten face parts, not exclusively eyeballs. It's still a lot more friendly and pleasant looking than Wade's face.

"I have grown weed before but I feel like that's probably not what you mean with that question. I talked to it and it wilted. Perhaps my tone of voice. Or lack of water or sunlight. There's a lot of factors, you know?"

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Ah...no, I meant more like a flower or a cactus, maybe. Those are pretty hardy, I hear." Steve's shoulders rise and fall in a little shrug. "Little bit of water, leave 'em on a windowsill in the sun, they're happy." He's still trying to puzzle out what Wade meant by 'annuciating' his cradle-tongue's name for his mother, but decides to piece it together another time.

Pun fully intended.

"<<Mathair>> means mother in Gaelic -- 's'my mother 'm talking about when I say it," he explains. "That's the language I knew first, before English."

Wade Wilson has posed:
"Oh, a cactus? I have been given cacti before. I really am not sure it is for a friendly purpose, to be honest, so I have thrown them away, rather than encounter them late some night when I forgot that they're there. Stepping on one of those is probably akin to stepping on a lego," Wade shudders. Legos in feet. Urgh.

"Yeah, I knew you were swearing in some language. I mostly give all my fucks in English." No kidding. "Mother, huh. It's mama in swahili," Wade supplies randomly, picking up his float and stirring it around unsuccessfully with a spoon.

"The more you knooooow," Wade sings, and beams a horrifying smile (skin condition being as it is) at Steve. He yawns, and stretches, then stands up languidly, with perfect balance to not upset any puzzle pieces. But then he just strides directly through the puzzle, to come over. "Food time? C'mon," Wade invites, upbeat and companionable. "It's still taco Tuesday, after all."