3277/Hogwarts invitation for beginners

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Hogwarts invitation for beginners
Date of Scene: 08 September 2020
Location: Roof
Synopsis: if you need an explanation, you shouldn't read this.
Cast of Characters: Wade Wilson, Peter Parker, Colette O'Connail, Slips, Karen Starr




Wade Wilson has posed:
You realize that this is how you get banned on your first day right?

"I feel like you're grossly underestimated everyone's sense of humor." Wade is sitting on the edge of a brownstone with a big gulp beside him, a roller grill hotdog in one hand, and his phone in the other. Gingerly running his thumb up the screen while chewing a bit, gently swinging his feet below him. "I swear to god she said there was an ebook... Oh wait, here it is. Hogwarts Lesbian fanfic..."

Success.

That's arguable

Don't pick fights with me...

"You two stop it."

There's crime in New York, obviously. Someone is purse snatching, someone is robbing a store, and someone is buying a white shirt to wear after tomorrow.

Seriously, someone should stop that guy.

Wade Wilson has posed:
In the interest in explaining that last joke. Tomorrow is labor day.

"GROSSLY underestimating their sense of humor..."

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man is, per the usual, keeping busy. Tonight, it's the run-of-the-mill stuff - checking the wiretaps on the Maggia warehouse, webbing muggers to the undersides of fire escapes, turning a five-person carjacking team into a giant version of that office toy with the five metal balls (doesn't work so well with crooks webbing into the fetal position, go figure) and gallavanting over most of the city for hours.

EXCEPT for the guy on the red suit on the roof of that building to the left. That seems unusual enough to halt his Olympic performance to observe the guy. This is New York, after all, and hassling a guy in a costume is TREMENDOUSLY poor form.

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    "GAAAH!"

    This is the sound that Colette makes when she finds the space she just stepped into occupied by a Wade. She windmills her arms for a balance, and somehow manages not to fall off the roof. She has a shoe covered in hotdog though.

    Colette is a perfectly normal young woman who wasn't there a moment ago, and has only just dodged Wade's lap by inches. "What the hell? Who are you and what are you doing sitting where I was about to walk?" She demands, unreasonably. "I'm sure you weren't here when I looked a moment ago."

    She steps back from the edge, to scrape mustard from expensive red trainers. "Fuck. Couldn't you have stuck with ketchup? These are ruined."

    Below, people are robbing stores, snatching purses and buying white shirts, and Colette doesn't care. She looks Wade up and down, and decides to hassle a guy in costume. "Oh great, another Superhero. Why are you guys always hanging out on roofs, anyway? Somewhere a crime is happening or something. Like I dunno, people breaking into the Zoo to steal penguins. Bound to be happening."

Slips has posed:
Labor Day, right. Slips only has one more day before her entire getup becomes a faux pas. As of right this very second, she pitter patters up a fire escape behind Deadpool looking like a vaudeville hero, only carrying a sack like the villain. All white with a cap hinging a mask down over the face, both also impossibly white. Hmm. That sack is nice and plump. "Shit," She spots the almost collision and of course not wanting to get her whites dirtied, ducks out of view, tucking her sack behind a plant or something. Her clothing and visage melt away into her every day persona these days, Arya Joshi. Hoodie, jeans, and yep, she pulls out a beer can from the sack and climbs up. "Are penguins worth something?" Something she should know about? Arya kicks her can back as she traverses forward. What's a little bit of rooftop wandering?

Karen Starr has posed:
    To say that the sudden disappearance of criminals is less flashy than Spider-Man's well practiced literal art might be an understatement, but if it is one thing, it is less funny, and therefore, not quite as awe-inspiring.

    Still, it begs the question of: "What?"

    It starts simple; A man stands in front of the counter of your typical New York style Bodega, brandishing a firearm, waving it around and shouting demands about Money and Bags and preparing to whine about how robbing convenience stores doesn't work anymore because about half a decade ago, they moved tho this system where anything above a 20 isn't accessible to the cashier anymore, which means that you can only get petty cash from the registers.

    This man finds himself skidding across the entryway floor of a (relatively) nearby police station long before he even really understands what's going on, and in his surprise he begins firing on the police, rapidly pulling the trigger in a dazzling display of murderous intent.

    The police are, for a moment, almost impressed.

    Sadly, whatever specter it was that delivered him- as the most anyone sees for a time is a pink blur- also removed the dangerous exploding things from the gun. Pulling a gun is one thing, and trying to fire it at police is another, but the security footage that'll show up after a while of this fellow robbing that store is enough to give him proper time to think about kicking the anthill that is New York City.

    Sure, it's less awesome, but it really is more efficient, at least.

    Once done with the robbery- for a brief minute or two, the blonde form of Power Girl is visible floating in the air above the streets of New York. Frankly, though, she might have stopped a robbery, but she's wearing white- which we've already covered- and really, floating in the air folding her arms like that is pretty damned criminal, depending on one's definition.

Wade Wilson has posed:
"What the actual fuck... this hotdog cost me a buck fifty..." It is ruined, the hotdog is ruined. Wade flails dramatically, channelling his inner 'extra' in flamboyant tantrum, "Listen here, knock off Domino, don't you dare come onto my roof, stepping on my hotdogs, ruining YOUR trainers-" which look fabulous by the way agreed "- telling me how to superhero.. I've been doing superhero badly since the mid ninties when the onslaught of edgier anti-heroes gave us such gems as Wildcats."

Wade sucks mustart from his thumb and pinky, staring up at Colette with narrowed white mask eyes. Unaware, FOR NOW, that Spider-Man is trying to skirt getting involved by peeping Tom across the roof. "Besides who st- HOLY FUCK BALLS, where the fucko fantastico did you come from?!" Staring wide eyed at Slips who basically entered by the most normal means possible..

In a world where people teleport around, using the fire escape is pretty aberrant.

"Shhh, we'll over do the color thoughts."

I am the very model of a modern major general,
I've information vegitable, animal, and mineral,
I know the kings of England, and I quote the fights historical,
from marathon to Waterloo, in order catagorical..


Big sigh... Hand to the side of his head. "Where were we... PENGUINS.. I'm like 95% sure that there's a villain in Gotham who deals exclusively in penguin merchandising. He'd probably offer up a decent bounty for a good Emperor Penguin."

Fun fact, Penguins give potential partners shiney pebbles and mate for life.

"Edutainment... The more you know." Random rogue pointing about the vacinity of Slips, "You there, looking like a cartoon cat-burgler, do you happen to have a napkin in that napsack? This womans trainers are in need of six hundred CCs of TLC, stat."

This is the part of the story where Wade looks over in slow motion to the floating figure of Power Girl hovering in the street. Hair flapping in the wind. Blue eyes scouring the entire nation for purse snatchers. Boob window... Boob window... "hubbida hubbida...... Guys... shhh-" slapping gently at Colette's arms, shoulders, and face with the tips of his fingers. Trying to get her to look over at Boob Window floating in the sky, "Shh, stop, look... Guys seriously, this is important, look.."

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man spots the Irish lass appear, revealing she is more lass instead of less. And then...okay, she looks like the sister of the Hamburglar...appears with an honest-to-God sack on her back.

Okayyyyy, MAYBE he should check it out.

He is still swinging his way over to the roof when another person shows up, and...hoo, boy, Power Girl. A Kryptonian. He might has said "like Kara" except, even though they hadn't dated in months, he still think no one is like Kara. Still, he's not sure whether to be settled or worried. He's never met Power Girl socially. Like he ever WOULD, but still...

And then he is landing on the roof about forty feet from the others. The suit is brand-new, without a rip or patch job anywhere, and he'd REALLY like to make that last as long as possible.

"Hey...none of you are Girl Scouts. And I was just hoping to buy a box of Thin Mints." He looks over to Slips. "What's in the bag, lady?"

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    "You shouldn't have put your hotdog where I was about to step then, should you?" Colette points out, entirely reasonably.

    It sounds reasonable in her head, anyway.

    She turns at the sound of Slips' question, and sighs a little to herself. So much for solitude. "Huh. I dunno. Penguins... I mean yeah. Anything's worth something to someone if they're stupid enough to pay for it, right? I mean I didn't come here to give a fuckin' economics lecture or anything, but it's all basic supply and demand here. I mean there's an intrinsic value based on rarity and transport costs, but that's all money down the drain unless you find some freak with a penguin fetish who's willing to pay. I mean Penguins by the Pound is not the business plan I'd pick if I wanted to get rich quick. "

    Colette shrugs her shoulders, sits on the edge of the roof next to Wade, and takes her shoe off to see if she can demustard, or demustart, it properly with some tissues. "Since the nineties?" She asks. "You're not that Spider-Man guy then? I thought you might be. So what, Batman or something? If so I gotta tell you, you bled all over your suit. I... what? What?"

    The interruption of Wade Tapping drags her attention over to where Karen and said boob window float. "Oh. Yeah, that's Harley's girlfriend. She'll probably kneecap you if you stare too haaaargh!"

    The banter is interrupted by the arrival of another damn superhero. "What the... Okay. This guy is Spider-Man," Colette hisses to Wade. "Not you. I'm pretty sure that's the actual one. Stop trying to fake me out, okay?"

    "WRONG!" she calls out to Spider-Man. "This guy here? Totally a girl scout. He's been showing me his badges."

Slips has posed:
"I came from the fire escape.  Makes me wonder why all you weirdos try so hard to come all the other ways," Slips says before realizing she's already been made.  She turns on her heel to slide right back down.  "No white sack but I do have...wait..."  Slips pops back up with a white backpack slung over her shoulder and a supersoaker.  "Stand still," she says as she pumps the gun, walking toward them.  "Shit ton of tampons.  Read your one true pairing already."

Karen Starr has posed:
    For what it's worth, Power Girl really does want to disregard the circus and get on with making New York just that little bit safer or everyone else. The problem though, is twofold. First, the circus is, in a relative sense, very very loud. Second, the city is, as mentioned before, an anthill of new and experienced heroes, all leaping from rooftops or sewers or what have you to throttle an unsuspecting Regular Goon.

    Seeing as nobody is lifting a city block to hit another city block, Karen has little to focus her attention on other than the group of people on the rooftop nearby. Overhearing their conversation is as easy as it isn't painful. Eventually, with a mild twitch of her eye, Power Girl zips over to the group, staying in the sky some feet off of the ledge, and looking down- not in a directly imperious way- at the assembly.

    "I have a name." she states, firmly, directly, and just a little bit angrily.

Wade Wilson has posed:
Harley's girlfriend. Right in the feels.

Too sooooooon.

"GUYS, stop, serious question..." Still slapping at Colette even though there's literally no reason to anymore, "Who the fuck is Harley and why do I instantly think of a Margot Robbie?" It takes great effort to pull her eyes off Power Girl, for totally acceptable reasons okay? This is 2020 we don't sexualize people unless we're the President or literally anyone ever on the internet.

"Huh?" Glancing backwards, over his shoulder, at Slips... then Spider-Man, then Colette... then the supersoaker. Then Power Girl.. Then off into the middle distance, "Remember when the order of things use to make sense? There was a clear definitive purpose and framework for the passage of time further explained by the presence of action?" His shoulders slump, head hangs, hands flop down into his lap near one of about twelve guns he's carrying because that's toooootally acceptable,

"Pepperridge Farm remembers..." Said in sad voice.

Enter Power Girl to Power Glare down at them.. Wade stares up, still a little dejected and sad, "I'm taking it from your standoffish disposition that it's /not/ Harley's Girl Friend.."

Peter Parker has posed:
Spidey's drone detaches from the backpack he wears, a tiny black mechanical spider the size of a matchbox, pulling back to get everyone in a wide shot (purely to add to the database, he'd make notes later).

He glances at Power Girl and nods. "I remember you. Power Girl. Yeah, it was while my Stalker was dating Supergirl. If you wave, he'll see it, by the way."

He looked back to Slips, Colette, and Wade. "That's me, Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man. So, I was curious about who was in the neighborhood. If this is a private gathering, I'll mosey on out, but I kinda doubt that it is."

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    "Margot Robbie? No, that's uh... Ms. Clanderstate?" Colette says, face screwed up in thought. "Of five two four, Seventh Avenue, Huntsville, Alabama? It could be that, but to be honest I wasn't paying total attention to the conversation. Or this one, for that matter. If not, then sorry Power Girl, but I don't know your name. I mean isn't that kind of the point of the whole secret identities thing?"

    As she speaks, Colette holds a hand out, stop-gesture style, towards Slips. When she's finished responding to Power Girl, she turns briefly to Slips and says "Shoot that thing in a different direction please, I've got mustart or mustard already, I don't really need water too."

    She lets out a big sigh. "It's not a private gathering, Spider-Man... can I just call you Spider? Or Mister Man? It's /supposed/ to be a nice quiet place to get away, but then all these people just decide to start showing up!" It's quite unfair, she got here second. "None of them invited. Did this roof turn into Grand Central Station while I wasn't looking? Seriously. I come here for the quiet!"

Slips has posed:
Who in their right mind decides to shoot masked strangers on rooftops with super soakers?  This idiot.  Slips shrugs at Colette's instruction and abides!  She abruptly lists it toward Wade and lets it rip.

"LOITERING.  It's called loitering!" Arya exclaims as if expecting what she's doing to cause some noise.  She arches a distracted brow in direction of how Power Girl's grumpy look plays out in light of Colette's response.

Karen Starr has posed:
    There is a raise of her brow Spider-Man's direction. Her gaze doesn't soften, but all the same, it doesn't go all red and lazery, so that's pretty neat for those keeping track. To Wade, her attention shifts for a moment. "Harley is a... Complicated but well-meaning individual from Gotham. Bad history. She's been in the news a few times. But... She does kinda give off a Margot Robbie vibe, though. You could be forgiven for confusing the two, if Margot Robbie was going to a specific kind of concert and was very into it." she states, before bringing one hand up to rub at her tempels. "Yeah. That was the long and short of it. It's complicated, and not really your business, which makes me wonder why someone -very- random has any idea that it was going on, on a rooftop."

    Speaking of which, she turns her attention to Colette now. "Power Girl is a name. You can use that, instead of the other thing." To be fair, she's been called worse- but that one still stings more than a little bit. "You can call him Susan if it makes you feel happy. Might get confusing if you ever double-date over at the Baxter Building." A pause, "And, it -is- called Loitering. Which begs the question of why so many of you are doing it."

Wade Wilson has posed:
"She comes for the isolation... the self reflective solitude of a world below acting out the tap-dance without the intervention of self.." Wade throws his hands up in the air, mock exasperation, "I came here because of all the places in Brooklyn, this was the only one that wasn't a private residence or a pizza place. I've sworn off pizza for the next three days."

With another healthy sigh, both hands pull down the sides of his mask. "Ugh, okay, I'm out of my funk... but while we're on Ms. Clanderstate-" Fishing around in a bag set against the inside of the footwall upon which he's sitting, that was absolutely there the whole time just none of you were observant enough to see it, and pulls out a t-shirt. A t-shirt he holds up, big plate of roast-beef on it. "Does this offend anyo-arrrrrrrrrrhhhhh..."

Full frontal water stream right in the kisser. It sends him sideways, trying to avoid the jet, but there is no sideways only open air, and what with the way Physics are a bastard, he falls.. Arms waving dramatically in the air as he bounces off every single thing down the side of the building. Fire-escapes, suspiciously placed Chinese Laundry Mats -No dollar bills- signs, and ultimately...

The ground.

The ground, yeah.

All twisted and mangled, arm broken in at least four places, and his foot and hip turned in directions it absolutely were not meant to be turned. "OH MY GOD.... OH SWEET MERCIFUL MARY, MOTHER OF JESUS.. TINY DANCER.. ELTON JOHN, SWEET SUMMER CHILD.." Echoing up from the sidewalk. "SUSAN.. Help me SUSAN! Oh gawd.. please stop checking facebook and call the emergency services..." Pawing at a passerbys foot... a passerby who is horrified, because how wouldn't they be?

"HELP ME YOU MONSTERS..."

"In my defense, I'm not loitering anymore, ooooie... my spleen.."

Peter Parker has posed:
"Well, you can call me Spider-Man, Spidey, or Webhead. There are others, but not suitable for mixed..."

Then the Spider-Sense squalls in his head, and he turns to see the guy in red and black do a header over the side. The eye-lenses actually go wide with shock as he runs over, conversation forgotten, and practically leaps over the side to see Wade suck sidewalk.

Spidey lands on the ground near Wade, placing an automatic call to EMS with a GPS location and physical address between the time he lands and the moment he reaches Wade. "Ambulance is on the way...! Jeez Louise..."

Colette O'Connail has posed:
"Power Girl is a name? Okay, fair enough. Gotcha, sorry about that Ms. Girl, I didn't know. Do your friends call you Pow? Because they totally should," Colette says. "And I'm not loitering, I'm cleaning my shoes because someone put mustart on them. Mustard. As to why there are so many of us, who's 'us'? I didn't invite this freakshow here. I was /trying/ to find a little PEACE and QUIET."

    Colette has kept her hand held out all the while she was speaking, and at the first wet and squeaky sounds of a super-soaker being fired, a solid wall of blackness appears a short distance in front of said hand, shielding her from any droplets that might spread her way. She is sitting fairly close to Wade, after all.

    She COULD have extended the wall of darkness a little wider, and encompassed Wade in its shieldy goodness, but noooo. I mean she's never met the dude before.

    Colette peers down over the edge to see where Wade has fallen to. He looks a bit broken. "He looks a bit broken," she tells Slips, looking back over her shoulder. "See, this is what happens when you shoot water guns at people."

    She looks back down, watching Spider-Man taking care of the wounded in a responsible and super-heroic fashion, if perhaps the fashion of a responsible and super-heroic type who's super-heroic reaction times have just been defeated by sheer WTFery. "Hey Spider!" she calls down. "You know an Andi, right? Tell her she needs to cut down on the chocolate. She left the trash at my apartment /full/ of chocolate wrappers. Girl has an appetite for chocolate, and that stuff is bad for the complexion. No telling what her face is gonna look like after eating all that."

Slips has posed:
Arya shifts her weight to one leg and then walks forward to lift up the roast beef shirt.  "Really?!"  Then she leans over the side for the finale of clunks and thunks.  "Oops."  She starts to clean the grip of the supersoaker with the tail of her shirt as she continues to watch the proverbial train wreck below.

Ari's gaze is stolen toward Power Girl as she speaks.  Then back down to Wade.  "I'll get your phone for you!"  And she does, of course.  And she looks at what he was browsing, of course.  She looks up and over to Colette, "Wait.  That's...I'm supposed to regret that?  I can't help it if a guy loses it over getting squirted in the face."

Karen Starr has posed:
    In ideal conditions, Power Girl can physically see and outrun the constituent particles in Light itself. This is why it should be a little surprising that when Wade gets hit by some sprinkles of water and falls off of the roof... She doesn't really do a whole lot. She could easily swoop in and catch him, or stop him from falling, or more.

    It might be only something that Wade understands, but Power Girl has heard of him. She knows enough to understand what just happened.

    She looks down at the crumpled form of the vigilante, and then back up to Colette, "So," she begins, "They call me Power Girl, usually, but I guess that'll do if you for some reason can't say the whole thing. Just a moment, he's going to need his stuff." she states, moving over to the ledge and plucking up Wade's pack.

    Does she bring it down to him calmly? Does she lower it to him on some line so that he can rummage through it at his leisure? No, she drops it. It's a careful thing, of course- aimed, not thrown, but aimed- to land probably -on- Wade, if nowhere else. Idly, she looks at the pair, allowing Spider-Man to feed into Wade's self-imposed injured mewling and vaudeville.

    "He regenerates."

Wade Wilson has posed:
It would have been a lot funnier if he'd hit you with a webline ultra late.

Yeah, just a limp line smacking you in the face.

"How could you think about comedy at a time like this... there's a bone..." Wade touches a bone sticking out of his forearm, bulging the side of his suit, "Oh god that hurts... there's a bone..." Mask eyes staring up at Spidey. Gently, limply, pawing at his knee where he's crouched beside him. Something cracking and popping as he moves where jagged bone is rubbing against broken jagged bone.

"I see the light... hold me.. I'm scared."

Up to Slips, whom he can only barely hear saying she'll get his phone for him, "Be a good bro and erase my browser history.. I don't want my momma to know what kind of filth I've been peer pressured into looking at..."

To his credit, though, he's already starting to mend. ... okay, to his credit or EVERYONE ELSES detriment, but let's not be a-holes, alright? Wade is a person with feelings and words hurt. Bones begin snapping back into place, audibly and visibly, and it is gross... enjoy the show. It's like the transformation of the monster in American Werewolve in Paris.

Have fun with that.

"Yeah, I regenerate, but words hurt, Power Girl... they hurt.. like broken bones..."

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man is trying to set the poor guy's leg bone when it just...POPS right back into place. It's the grossest magic trick he's ever seen.
He looks up to Power Girl, blinking as she gives away the punchline to the joke. He himself can heal pretty quickly, but this is on a whole new level.

Instead of being grossed out...he's actually rather fascinated by the process. How does the body just KNOW what the right position is for a bone to re-set? When his arm was broken by Rhino last month, he had to set it himself, and it took HOURS to heal completely. For this guy, it's taking...minutes, if not SECONDS.

"...Fascinating." Yeah, he went full Spock on that one. Not gonna lie, it felt right.

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    "I mean, technically assault. And you basically killed him," Colette says to Slips. She's wiped as much mustar... something yellow off her shoe as is going to come off right now, and starts putting it back on. "In front of three... scratch that, two, super-heroes. Can't really count the one you killed, I guess. I mean maaaaaybe you can take out Power Girl and Spider-Man with your super-soaker too, but I wouldn't count on it. So regretting it? Distinct possibility. "

    Shoes are laced. Fancy lacing with extra loops, because Colette. Someone murderizing a superhero in front of her with a water pistol does not interfere with fancy lacing. Even if the laces are a bit more yellow than they should be.

    Colette unslings her backpack and pulls out a bottle of Maker's Mark bourbon. She cracks the wax seal and uncorks it deftly, takes a couple of hefty swigs from the bottle and gives out a satisfied "Aaaaah." Then she leans over to peer at the T-shirt Slips had picked up. "This offend you?" She asks. "Doesn't offend me. Why would someone be offended by it? Strange guy. Maybe because it's a cheap ass roast instead of a decent wagyu? Who knows. Strange guy."

    She recorks the bottle and peers down again to see the promised spectacle of a regenerating Wade that Power Girl has promised. "Regenerates huh? Cool. You're right! I can see him doing it. Looks painful though, he should probably carry around some anesthetic for situations like this. Well I guess you're off the hook, super soaker person."

    Anesthetic. Pack being dropped. Bottle of bourbon. Click whirrr click. "Hey, Spider! Stop Spocking and catch. Guy probably needs some anesthetic. Heads up!" She holds the bottle out over the street, and lets go.

    He was /warned/ this time. Surely Spider-reactions will be fast enough to web the hurtling bottle, right? If not, it'll land close to Wade's head rather than right on him, 'cos she's nicer than Peej, and shatter. There will be bourbon all over the place, and Wade can lick the floor if he wants some. It's a /kindness/.

Slips has posed:
Fiddle fiddle.  Ari swipes through Wade's phone.  It makes a swooshing sound which is no match for the noises Wade himself is making as his body repairs itself.  "Humpty Dumpty.  I'll buy you a beer," because what else can you do when you've shot someone off the side of a building.  "That'll be alright right?"  She looks back over at Colette as if his potential acceptance of a beer would forgive the...you know, assault, pseudo-murder, all that.  "Well, it was an accident and I can't change it so."  Arya shrugs as if her reaction should be perfectly normal.

"Naw.  I've seen worse." Arya says after she glances down to the shirt.

"Good thinking," she says after Colette sends the bourbon on its way.

Karen Starr has posed:
    There's a short delay. A significant roll of her eyes and then Wade gets one of the reactions on his definitely-a-thing totally-real checklist, the double-facepalm. Gloved hands drag over her features for a moment as she listens to his statements, and to the others, she just seems sympathetic- to them, specifically.

    "I would like to remind- perhaps even inform- everyone present that -he- hurt -himself.-" She gestures to Arya for a moment. "She seems to be the only one who's getting it. Kinda." The bottle of bourbon finds its way down to Spidey and Karen follows suit, drifting down out of the sky and landing next to the puddle of blood and tears that Wade's making, which probably only grew when she called him out on it. Words -do- hurt.

    "Just give him a minute, he'll get up, and then he'll be right back to it. To be fair, I've only -heard- about it, never seen it up close, but eighty-proof alcohol isn't really anesthetic. Unless you pour it into his mouth, but I've... Also heard that it's not recommended."

Wade Wilson has posed:
Rag doll, rag doll, cover your head, we're going over the side!

Way to be two poses too late...

Am I late or was it planned this way?

"I really don't think that's what's most important right now..." Who is Wade even talking to?

Weak point up at Peej..

Thanks for the answer.

Pointing finger twists into a thumbs up for nobody.

Mangled body twists painfully into some semblence of a normal structure. "I mean, you didn't have to come hang out with me POWER GIRL... gawd... you send out these invitations to make shift Hogwarts, expecting hot lesbianism, instead you get thrown off a roof with a supersoaker, and demeaned by boob window up there..." His other hand is still slapping, fumbling really, at Spidey's knee.

"You see wha- oh god my spleen just unlacerated, that felt important... -what I have to put up with? Never, ever, have a successful movie, Spidey... It changes peoples opinion of you when you... nevermind the endless reboots and whatever the hell the third movie is."

His hand moves to cup Spidey's cheek, "Promise me... You'll never have a successful movie franchise. Even if you don't mean it, promise."

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man is still observing Wade mending himself when the man reaches up to press his hand to Spidey's masked cheek. Spidey is so startled by this sudden act of intimacy he doesn't even look up as the bottle drops down and...

And he reaches out and catches it without looking at it.

"I'll...I promise to do what I can."
Like anyone's going to make a movie about HIM. Heck, there are a thousand people like Power Girl, Supergirl...those are the ones who get movies made about them.
He hands the bottle to Wade before standing up, pulling the face out of arm's reach.

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    "Well of /course/ you pour it into his mouth. Where else? I mean... no look, don't answer that," Colette says, because she suspects Power Girl would. "I said anesthetic, not antisceptic. Besides, this is decent bourbon. It goes in the mouth. That's how you apply bourbon in the medically approved manner, Pow."

    "He... he just handed it to the guy. That's not what you're supposed to do when people are dazed. You need to force the alcohol down their throats, I've seen that in movies." Colette cups her hands to her mouth and yells down "DON'T JUST PUT IT IN HIS HANDS, FORCE IT DOWN HIS THROAT, SPIDER!" She blinks a couple of times, then turns to Slips and adds "That probably sounded wrong. There are probably people all over who heard that and are misinterpreting it as I speak. I should clarify my point.

    "HE'S DAZED AND HELPLESS, FORCE IT DOWN HIS THROAT!"

    Colette leans back with a satisfied grin. That's much better. "Hogwarts!" she says. "See, delirious. Can't tell the difference between a dark dank street and Hogwarts. Believe me, this ain't Hogwarts, I'd know. I work there."

Slips has posed:
"No that's pretty much my take on it too," Arya offers after Power Girl with a light nod.  "So glad I'm not down there for the show.  Gross," she says in a take it or leave it tone.  She moves away from the ledge after she sees what she thinks is a thumbs up and empties the rest of the water from the gun's barrel onto the rooftop.  Waiting for it to empty, she spins the frame of the gun around her hooked finger, carefree.  She flashes a grin back at Colette, "No way that can be misinterpreted."

"...and by Hogwarts you mean you worked....?" Arya arches a brow to Colette.  Forcing it down his throat though?  No eyebrow for that.

Karen Starr has posed:
    Power Girl will never have a movie made about her. There's a bust size ceiling involved, and when you have to hire niche actresses of a slightly shady variety (Or Christina Hendricks and a bit of magic to make her seem a whole lot larger and blonder in whatever context you figure that means) to play your title character, franchises get more and more unlikely, despite that the rights to Power Girl belong to no entity in specific, and can be used by more or less anyone willing to trademark them... To Karen's chagrin, more often than not.

    Her attention shifts momentarily up to the two still on the rooftop. "Could you not? He can drink the bourbon himself. Nobody needs to -feed- him bourbon. He's an adult."

    There's another roll of her eyes, and she offers this quiet sigh, "If you call me Boob Window one more time, I'm going to hit you." The context of the phrase, though, is important: It won't be a little love-tap. Either way, she places her hands on her hip, and rocks to one side, tapping her foot on the ground. "Are you done?" she asks Wade, her expression impassive.

Wade Wilson has posed:
I bet that goes over poorly if a male says it

"Yeah, force it down my throat, Spidey... come'ere and put it in my mouth. Just the tip, though, I'm not trying to get intimate with a bottle.. At least not until I'm fully healed up." Wade's mouth opens beneath the mask, very clearly so, stretching out the off center red material where he's been jostled about awkwardly by his very graceful plummet to earth.

If Spidey wont provide, though, Wade has no problem doing it for himself. Opening the bottle and pouring most of the contents directly on his mask.. essentially whiskey water-boarding.

ARE we done?

"I could be? Let's find out... CHECK LIST ME!"

Alright, for the sake of the studio audience watching, let's cover the checklist shall we?
* Gross sexual innuendos, check.
* Overt attempts to derail even the slightest bit of conversation, check
* Reference to Lesbian Hogwarts, double check.
* Torture.


Have we earned our R rating?

Yeah, our work here is done.

With a final pop, crack, snapple, Wade reaches for his belt and activates the teleportation device that works situationally (and usually only for plot purposes or quickly escaping a scene before he can become /more/ offensive), disappearing to... lord, does anyone even want to know where he goes when he's not on duty?

I'm with him and I don't wanna know.

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man jumps back and blinks as Wade blinks out. He looks around, then up at the others.
"YYYYeah, I think he'll be FINE." He looks around, then sighs. This has definitely been weirder than advertised.
"I think my work here is done," he says as the drone re-attaches to his backpack. He's gotten a slew of pictures, and sees himself filling out a LOT of database entries. "I'm outta here like yesteryear. Interesting meeting you all."
He waves to Power Girl, then fires a webline to the nearest lightpole. "Hasta lasagna, don't get any on ya!"

And with that, he slingshots himself up, up, and away (please don't sue).

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    "Work, work. Present tense," Colette explains to Slips. "They haven't sacked me yet. In fact the principal said I was doing a great job. I mean there was that one little incident, but the guy was bona fide insane. Basically Draco Malfoy. Even looked just like him."

    "Hey Pow, you've really got that the wrong way around!" Colette calls down. "I mean think through what you're saying here. By implication you're saying that if he was a child, you'd feed him bourbon. That's just /wrong/, Pow. Wrong. He'd be underage and you'd have commited a felony. Then Spider there would have to arrest you, and there would be a whole thing, and next thing we know half of Brooklyn is missing."

    She watches with curiosity as Deadpool teleports away, and then Spider-man web-slings away too - possibly for some sordid rendez-vous wherever it is that Deadpool has got to. You can never tell with these masked typed. I mean costumes with full-face super-hero masks? Basically gimp suits.

    "He can teleport," Colette says to Slips. "He could teleport all the time. Why didn't he just teleport while he was falling?" She shrugs her shoulders, turning to the possibly felonius woman. "I guess that means you get out of buying him a beer. So... everything worked out fine, except that I no longer have a bottle of bourbon. Feel like hitting a bar?"

    She glances over in Power Girl's direction, and shrugs her shoulders. Who knows - Harley was great fun to hit a bar with and she likes Power Girl, so maybe? "You wanna come, Pow?"

Slips has posed:
"Fuck that kid is cheesy...Nice try.  Hogwarts has a headmaster.  Not a principal."  Slips smirks.  She puts her "gun" assembly away in her backpack, checks inside, grins, zips and slips it up.

"He can what?"  Arya walks over to lean over the side Wade once was.  "Okay...yeah.  Let's go get a drink."  When Colette extends the invitation to Power Girl verbally, Arya tilts her head, lifting her chin slightly toward her instead.