689/Shots Shots Shots

Shots Shots Shots
Date of Scene:	22 March 2020
Location:	A nightclub in New York City
Synopsis:	Deadpool annoys Powergirl, Tony Stark rises in the (twitter) polls, and Deadpool causes chaos. A typical night at the club.
Cast of Characters:	Emma Frost, Alex Summers, Wade Wilson, Karen Starr, Mikhail Uriokovitch, Tony Stark

---

Emma Frost has posed:
Sometimes, it's nice to get out of your comfort zone. Emma Frost tends to prefer staying in the confines of the Hellfire Clubs many bars and nightclubs for her evening revelry, but tonight she's meeting up with Alex Summers at a place nearer to his apartment. It's a mid-range nightclub and bar on a Saturday night, so the sound of the tunes the DJ spins inside can be heard out on the sidewalk outside.

Emma makes her way inside, texted Alex to let him know she's there. She's in a short (very short) white bodycon dress with an open back and a mandarin collar, and high-heeled knee high white boots to match: ideal for this kind of environment. The music is loud enough that its almost drowning out the buzz of thoughts she can hear with her telepathy, and she isn't sure if she likes this sensation or not.

    It's time to let it go,
    I feel the shame once more
    Got my clique got my drinks on the floor
    So call the cops, we gonna steal this show
    Yeah I make love don't fight
    This feeling you're my type
    And if you want it come get it so we can go all night
    Singing woah, 'til the AM, AM
    Woah, getting wasted, wasted
    I wanna go until the music stops
    I've got a drink and a beat let the party rock

Emma pushes through the crowd, giving little teep 'nudges' to encourage those in her way to move out of it as she makes her way to the bar. She orders a Long Island Iced Tea, and waits for her date.

Alex Summers has posed:
    Alex, for his part, doesn't usually go out to a club like this...but then, he doesn't usually have a person to go /with/ to a club like this. Sure, it's loud, but the booze is pretty cheap, the company is good, and he's not against shaking it on the floor when he can. Even if he's not the best dancer ver, of course.

    As he sees Emma coming in he stands up at the table he's in, waving to her so she can see him...not that she couldn't just sense his thoughts, he supposes, but still..."

Wade Wilson has posed:
Sometimes Wade be clubbin'.

Deadpool emerges from a bathroom with a very long line, his usual red and black uniform draped with what appears to be an ankle length fur coat, along with a black top hat and a monocle that's somehow affixed itself over one of his blank white eyes.

"Yo, dawg, I wouldn't go in there, the freak who was in there just a second ago dropped a massive bomb of stank that's totally going to harsh your buzz," he says, giving a very elaborate jive handshake to a very confused young man in a fishnet shirt.

"Worry not, lads and ladettes, the party starter, the hip-shaker, the social in your social distancing (shame on all of you, by the way, you delicious risk takers), it's me, your boy, D to the E to the Ed to the Pool."

Of course, almost none of that can be heard over the blaring music but he generally assumes people aren't listening to him anyway. Which doesn't stop him from talking to them. Why would it? If a Deadpool talks your head off in the club, does it still make a sound? Hell yes, it does, a really loud sound accompanied by garlic breath. SORRY I HAD THE SCAMPI.

"Anybody interesting about? Celebrities, superheroes, rock stars? The guy who played Skippy on Family Ties? Anybody watch those old episodes and realize that Skippy's a creepy stalker? MALLORY DOESN'T WANT YOU PAL BACK OFF."

Karen Starr has posed:
    Nightclubs are great, and today's been a day. An 8.0 over in California saw Karen spending altogether too much of her time pulling tectonic plates back together. Immediately afterwards, a brand new fledgling heroine crash landed in the forest and became Karen's responsibility. People probably ought not be Karen's responsibility.

    That's why, when she hears the noise of the music in the club reach a Saturday night crescendo that'd drown out any notifications that it's someone like her arriving. She's cleaned herself up, but hasn't changed her clothes. That Power Girl shows up at this Club could be easily mistaken for a cosplayer or someone just having fun.

    Getting past the security is easy. There's a rush of wind, and then Karen's inside. Stepping along as if she belongs there, Karen takes a spot at the bar and holds up two fingers, pointing to an expensive looking bottle of whisky on the upper shelf. From her glove, she produces a billfold that has a somewhat unreasonable amount of cash pressed into it.

    She's smiling. Today's been rough, but tonight'll be good. Have a bit of alcohol- she won't get drunk, but it'll still be nice- relax. No worries, no responsibilities for an hour or to.

    D to the E to the ED POOL.

    Karen's head slumps down, and thuds quietly on the bar. "That spells Deedpool," she quietly comments to herself, her head rising only to the point where her eyes are visible. "You walking head injury."

    Karen holds up two more fingers, and points to the whisky again.

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Mik has been here for a short while, the relatively drinks caught his attention, though he had managed to acquire more acceptable clothing for being in places like this, a jacket over a dark shirt and dark pants. His large frame makes him a pain to move around. In one hand he holds a walk me down, about a quarter empty at this point, though hard to tell with his giant hand around the glass. He appears to be enjoying himself at the moment, though the arrival of Deadpool definitely catches his attention and befuddles the mountain of a man who just takes a big gulp of the drink to hopefully make sense of the thing.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma catches Alex's wave, taking her drink with her over to the table. She spies Deadpool leaving the bathroom in his ridiculous get-up and sighs as she slides into the booth beside Alex, not across from him. A large swallow of that drink immediately is downed before she gives him an awkward kind of grin. "Um, so. Nice... place I guess." She looks to see what he's drinking, then scans the dancefloor, which is a crowded, writhing sea of bodies.

Reminds her of the Dungeon, only better lit, actually.

Alex Summers has posed:
    Alex is a bit distracted by Deadpool's arrival, raising a brow as she sees him making his triumphant entrance...and the Power Girl cosplayer who seems to have lost all hope at his arrival. Well. Maybe they know each other? I mean, cosplayers....who knows? He supposes they could be the real thing, but what are the chance, really? He smiles as he sits down across from Emma; he's again got a dark ale. Seems to enjoy those, nothing too fancy though. Good, but not incredible. Microbrew mostly. "It's not my usual scene, but it's fun sometimes." he says, talking a bit louder over the background noise.

Wade Wilson has posed:
"Ooooooooooooh, Power Girl at the bar! Somebody shoot her and see if she's the real thing. I'm not going to do it because, if she is, she'll turn my head into Beefaroni and ohhhhhhhh Boyardee I don't want that. I know what you're thinking, sure, Deadpool, but you'll get better, but I gotta tell you, growing a new brain, picking all the pieces of skull out of my mask, not to mention a level of pain I haven't experienced since that time I tweaked Mr. Sinister's third nipple (don't ask where it is)...I'm just saying, it's a hassle. So, I'm going to be leaving her alone, mostly, but I will shoot anyone who makes any comments about her knockers because I am feeling very I'M WITH HER today, you sexist pigdogs."

Somebody bumps up against him dancing, a large douchebag fratboy musclehead privilege fart - you know the type, one of those guys who watched the OC and thought #aspirations.

"Watch it, FREAK!" the guys snarls at him.

See, this is the point where Deadpool would usually shoot this guy or at least headbutt him but this is supposed to be a social scene, so instead he just spins him around and gives him a big old All-American wedgie. Which is hard to do with a guy wearing a neon-lime thong. "Ohhhhhhhhh, wow, this has some real good elasticity, where did you get these, they aren't even tearing? Maybe because your plums are a little more like raisins! Let's see if I can make them sing a Christmas carol, get that Claymation going!" he says, dangling the guy by his dainties in the middle of the floor.

Karen Starr has posed:
    Karen had been... Under the radar. Most people had come here with dates. She hadn't come through the door in a typical fashion, and her angle of approach to the bar had kept her out of line of sight of anyone who'd be likely to, well, do -anything.-

    Then, there's Deadpool. Proverbially, what he does is shine a literal spotlight onto the suddenly depressed looking woman at the bar. All the sudden, there's a number of people looking in her direction, convinced that she's a cosplayer and that, therefore, they have a shot.

    "Fuck."

    Her disappointment is immeasurable. Her day is ruined. She sits up straight, and drops all four shots she's ordered before leaving a tipless payment for the bartender who, thanks to Deadpool, just noticed that she -very- much looks like Power Girl and that her costume is -so- great and he's curious if she -made- it herself and he is just so -body-positive- about getting work done for cosplay that she just can't. Bear. Conversation.

    She stands up, after a moment. Wordlessly. Then, there is the inexorable journey onto the dance floor. Her expression has soured, and it is the most absolutely -gorgeous- face of SEETHING RAGE.

    Perhaps the best clue is that one fellow, perhaps a compatriot, or clone, of Deadpool's current target, Captain Jersey Shore (A lesser known super soldier) latches onto her shoulder in effort to stop her and get a dance. There's an adjective or two that happens. Karen doesn't stop walking and this guy holds on until she pulls him over without even flinching.

    She's headed straight for Wade.

    She'd roll up her sleeves if she had them.

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Mik spends a few moments processing this further, though he had read some files on Deadpool and Power Girl before, he was by no means incredibly familiar, other than knowing that judging by her bee line for Deadpool, a scrap was about to break out. He takes this moment to chug his drink, because there's no sense letting alcohol go to waste. He himself begins backing up towards a wall to keep somone from sneaking up behind him, though that wall is not far from Emma and Alex's table, though he does not know who they are, and (quite frankly) are not the focus of his attention, as the rest of the crowd is at this point in time.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma gives a little shrug. "I don't mind nightclubs," she says to Alex. //I just usually don't go to the ones outside of the Hellfire.// she teeps. It's a little easier to hear.

"Shots!" yells one of the bartenders. The club goes mad. "SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS!" the throng chants as three of the bartenders begin quickly shaking and pouring long lines of what looks to be Liquid Cocaine shots. A quartet of staff quickly slide the shotglasses on their trays and begin walking around, handing out the shots in exchange for cash. People grab them up.

"Shots?" asks the man with tray that comes back Emma and Alex's table.

    I don't see how you can hate from outside of the club
    You can't even get in

"Umm. Sure..." Emma says, handing the man cash for two. They are plunked on the table and he quickly moves to the next. "Alex-- about last night..."

One of the guys standing by their table leans over, obviously already a bit tipsy. "You're about to get //dumped//, bro," he slurs to Alex, laughing. Emma doesn't look amused //at all//.

Meanwhile, the music blasts louder...

    'Cause I feel like I'm running
    And I'm feeling like I gotta get away, get away, get away
    Better know that I don't and I won't ever stop
    'Cause you know I gotta win everyday day, day, go!
    See they don't really wanna pop me (Blow!)
    Just know that you never flop me (Oh!)
    And I know that I can be a little cocky
    You ain't never gonna stop me

"You can go away now," Emma says to the idiot.

"You can come with me," he grins back.

Alex Summers has posed:
    Alex rolls his eyes at the shots ,but doesn't object to Emma buying one for him, though the drunken man leaning over the table is less welcome. He reaches out and gives him a firm push. "Yeah yeah, buddy, go play Dr. Love for someone else." If he seems to have pushed the man directly towards PeeGee and Wade, it's /totally/ accidental. If there's a little extra force in the firm push, well...there is.

    "Yeah?" he says simply, settlign back in his chair, then holds up a finger. "Hold on." He picks up the shot, then knocks it back in a quick gulp, before setting it on the table. Just in case.

Wade Wilson has posed:
Deadpool sees Power Girl coming. How can he not, when he's right in her headlights? OH DAMMIT NOW I'VE MADE A BOOB JOKE. I'VE GOTTA SHOOT MYSELF. FUDGE.

Deadpool holds his hands up in a conciliatory gesture which does not at all resemble an attempt to wipe her boob windows of all the horny fanboy smudges left behind by their greasy Cheet-O fingers. "Hey now, hey now, I didn't mean any harm, I'm just an ordinary working man, relaxing in the cheerful confines of my local pub! Everybody saw you anyway, you weren't hard to miss, you're not exactly subtle. You've been on the covers of newspapers. You're Superman's brother's sister's cousin's former roommate! It was only a matter of time until some barking idiot pointed at you and said HEY POWER GIRL and it just so happens that this time the idiot was me!"

Realizing he may not be getting through that beautiful blonde skull (impressive hairspray, btw), he activates the teleporter in his belt and ends up next to Emma and Alex's table. He pulls up a spare chair and sits down with them, "Okay, you two lovebirds, my name is Franz and I'm your cousin from Glouchester. I'm only in town for the Furry Convention down the street and this is my anthropomorphic ladybug costume. My furry name is Jiminy Redlegs. You're slightly ashamed of me, but trying to be supportive because you feel bad for my mother. We kissed once when we were twelve and feel real weird about it, don't bring it up ever, especially in front of your beautiful boyfriend, OH HI THERE, JAWLINE," he says, cooing in Alex's direction.

He looks up at the guy annoying them, "LOOK I'VE GOT GUNS RUN AWAY. QUIETLY."

Karen Starr has posed:
    The man she toppled whines a bit about it on the floor, complaining that he slipped in someone's drink, that the dance floor was unacceptably wobbly. There are some colorful adjectives.

    Of Wade's excuses, Karen clearly is having none. She continues to storm to his location at an Austrian Robot's pace, crossing the dance floor and brightening up exactly -none- when he makes excuses.

    It's then that any pretense of her being some sort of cosplayer becomes absolutely null. It's not -exactly- as fast. There's a hair's breadth's worth of a second that Power Girl has to relocate Wade... But it's still faster than can be perceived by normal people. The rush of wind happens so close to when Wade arrived that it almost seems like she got there first.

    By the time she's arrived, her arms are folded.

    "It's pronounced Glosster." she begins, "And in case you ever have to write it down, perhaps because your jaw's been wired shut despite your rapid healing factor, it's a common misconception to include an H after the C."

    Her arms unfurl, and she beckons Wade to stand. "I'm curious if you have any last requests. Any limbs I specifically shouldn't bend the wrong way?" Whether or not this threat was empty is anyone's guess. Karen sure looks like she'll follow through.

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
As the shots are passed around, Mik pays for two and downs them, a bit of disgust on his face. However, the creepy, pushy boy at the table near him catches his attention, as does the arrival of Deadpool. Hoping to head off the problem, Mik takes a step closer and says to the drunken idiot, "It seems you are causing problem. Perhaps you should go elsewhere." He makes sure to loom over the drunken idiot and stretches his neck "Perhaps away from here would be best, literally anywhere else." His heavy Russian accent not even a little slurred despite his drinks. Power Girl's arrival gets a sigh and he looks to the unwelcome guest at the table, "See, things are going to get messy."

Emma Frost has posed:
//This is why Shaw banned him from the Hellfire,// Emma teeps to Alex, a hint of utter frustration edging her tone. //Not that it stops him from somehow getting in anyway.// She takes her own shot and downs it. Damn, she needs it tonight. It burns, yet is surprisingly tasty.

THe guy staggers as Alex shoves him away, and looks like he's going to come back, bowing up... before this crazy guy in a gimp suit, monocle, and fur coat appears and threatens him with guns. "Whoa man, aight I'm goin'." But then he catches sight of the suddenly-appearing Power Girl, complete with Boob Window. He throws his arm around her shoulders. "You can come with me, babe."

Emma downs another large swallow of her Long Island. "Is it normally like this in here?" she says loudly to Alex to be heard over the music.

    I love my beaches, south beaches
    Surfboard and high tide
    I could just roll up
    Cause I'm swoll up
    So that birthday cake get a cobra
    Buggati for real, I'm cold bruh
    That auto-biography rover
    Got the key to my city it's over
    It's no thots, only Anna Kournikova's
    I said rackets, ratchets hold up
    (I said rackets, ratchets hold up)

"About last night," she starts again, seeing that Wade is about to be //very occupied//, "I'm sorry about this morning, it's just that I am not usually--"

There's a cheer going up around the bar. What is going on?

Alex Summers has posed:
    "There aren't nearly so many people in costumes, but oddly still about the same number of assholes...." Alex starts to say, glaring a bit at Deadpool, then drunk dude is now trying to hang off the cosplayer and he's standing up at this point. "Look man, she's not interested, get lost." he says, stepping forward to try and disentangle said drunk from Karen in case Mik doesn't intimidate him into doing so immediately. Because it's not like he's realized he's /actually/ Power Girl yet.

    //Which, the guy in the gimp suit, the drunk trying to grope the cosplayer, or someone else entirely?// he thinks irritatedly at Emma. Not irritation at her, of course, but he's starting to wonder if inviting her to a club was a good plan.

Wade Wilson has posed:
Deadpool holds out his arm to Power Girl, "Alright, alright, I admit it, I deserve to suffer for my horrifying crime of recognizing you in a public space. It's definitely my fault that you don't wear a mask and came to a bar in your superhero suit. I should've thought twice before I pointed out that you were a superhot famous lady, because nobody else was ever going to see it and you were going to be totally incognito until I spoiled your cunning plan."

"So do it. Break my arm. Rip it up - not off, mind you, please, it takes like a week to grow back and the T-rex arm I get halfway through makes babies cry. Break my bones, dislocate my lozenges and sinews and other important anatomical bits. Ravage me in agony until I cry like a bachelorette denied a rose just before they do the private trip and the hot tubbing and I totally wanted to go visit my parents and walk through an orange grove with this horny stranger but instead I'm being rejected on national television and my mascara is running and why do I feel this so deeply it's just a reality show OH GOD CHRIS THE BACHELOR GUY IS HERE AND HE'S GOING TO COMFORT ME WITH HIS PLASTIC FACE."

"Not that I watch that show."

He hears the cheering and tries to peer over her shoulder, "Something's happening, don't block my view while you're ruining my arm-meats, I'm going to be SO mad if it's Britney Spears and you get in the way, I LOVE YOU BRITNEYYYYYYYYYYYY!" he shouts.

Tony Stark has posed:
One of the benefits of being Tony Stark is you can make a party pretty much wherever you like. Put enough booze, music, and interns in the same place and voila - le mélange parfait! But then, that can be a lot of effort even for someone as fundamentally dedicate to a good time as the man behind Iron Man. So, much to his security detail's chagrin, he'd given them the slip and made his way into the first sufficiently jumping establishment he'd come across. His reason? Well, does he even need one?

He'd gotten through the door easily enough. The bouncer was the sort that didn't watch television unless there was a ball or a camel clutch involved, and the young lady on the door was sure she was just seeing things. But when he got to the bar, propped an elbow on it, and waited for his drink someone had clocked him.

'Hey, you're him! Tony Stark!'

The cheer had gone up, and Tony had obligingly lifted a hand to wave. His eyes hidden behind a pair of darkly tinted Tom Ford sunglasses and wearing both a dark, plaid blazer and a t-shirt that bears a gold outline of Iron Man's helmet, he's suitably casual; albeit very expensively casual. The wall of sound coming at him is too much to instantly parse, so he just raises a hand in a peace sign and smiles for a couple phone cameras as they go off with a flash.

Karen Starr has posed:
    The idea that Deadpool is getting through to her is laughable. Instead, truth be told, the threats had been just that. When he stands up, offers his arm, and goes into a diatribe that sounds more like he'll enjoy it than it would be painful, she eventually has to call it to a close.

    "Okay. No. I wasn't- Why does this sound like- Did you plan-" There are pauses every now and then as Deadpool reaches a new stanza regarding what he thinks she's going to do to him. "I believe you do watch that show. Honestly. Are you... Wearing mascara just in case this happens? I'd check but I don't want to see-"

    There's an arm around her shoulder. There's a levity that was in her voice before that disappears now. "You have three seconds. Keep in mind that each second is an eternity to me, so I'm being -woefully- gracious to you and whatever you hit on your path out the door."

    Alex is being so helpful, but Power Girl speaks up. "Oh no, don't worry. Let him make his own mistakes. We're learning now. This is an important lesson."

Emma Frost has posed:
The DJ literally plays a record scratch and then suddenly a loud guitar riff bursts across the sound system. Hard rock and metal isn't the typical genre played here, but the crowd in the bar lets out a roar from the first riff as AC/DC blares.
    All you women who want a man of the street
    But you don't know which way you want to turn
    Just keep a coming and put your hand out to me
    'Cause I'm the one who's gonna make you burn
    I'm gonna take you down - down, down, down
    So don't you fool around
    I'm gonna pull it, pull it, pull the trigger
    Shoot to thrill, play to kill
    Too many women with too many pills
    Shoot to thrill, play to kill
    I got my gun at the ready, gonna fire at will

AC/DC scratches mixed with clips from "I Am Iron Man" by Black Sabbath. Of course.

Emma watches Alex get up to help remove the fool from the Power Girl cosplayer-- or is that actually Power Girl? ?It actually might be. Well, this night just got interesting. She cranes her neck to look towards the bar where many of the young attendees of the club are beginning to mob. From the mental noise... Stark is here. Huh. She didn't expect him to slum it.

The guy draping himself on Power Girl lets out a whoop and lets her go, staggering towards the bar, though he's not getting anywhere close to Tony Stark.

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
The arrival of Stark causes Mik to utter a short string of Russian swear words, the last thing he wants is that much attention. He grumbles and nods as the idiot is informed that it a learning moment and laughs as lets go at the last minute and beats a hasty retreat. "Well, at least he is gone. My apologies for intruding." The large Russian nods politely, though he is now curious to see how the Power Girl/Deadpool scuffle is bound to go, though the STark addition to the equation is definitely a game changer.

Alex Summers has posed:
    Alex starts to answer Power Girl, a brow raising, but then...Stark's arrival totally derails his strain of thought as he looks over, starting a bit. "...seriously, what is my life lately..." he mutters, before he says to Mik. "Wait man, let me buy you a drink for that. Hearts in the right place." He eyes PeeGee. Even though I'm sure the lady can take care of herself too. Uh, drink for you too?"

    Then to Deadpool. "...but not you." he clarifies.

Wade Wilson has posed:
Deadpool is super glad that Doucheneck McLargehuge has taken Power Girl's wrath off of him. He pleads the Fifth about the mascara, but he HAS seen The Craft twenty times, so make of it what you will.

When he hears that it's Tony Stark and not Britney Spears, he deflates, "Awwwwwwwwwwwww, shoot. I was going to shave my head and get it signed. Okay, I'm already bald, but I would've, like, gone through the motions. I got signed up for one of those razor of the month clubs by Cable ("For your wrists" he said, ha ha, he's such a jokester) and I need to get my money's worth. Well, not my money. But I'm just saying, I understand that girl. I was on the Mickey Mouse Club once upon a time, too. I was the useless tool in the Mouse-ka-tool menu. I SWEAR I COULD'VE CALMED THAT BEEHIVE, MICKEY, JUST GIVE ME A CHANCE."

He goes to the railing and dangles over it a little bit at Tony, "Hey, mustache ride! Where's your lady friend? I got all this salt and not a dash of Pepper!"

Tony Stark has posed:
"This one here?" Tony asks one of the revellers who is trying to get a selfie, pointing from one camera to another to try and work out which one he's meant to smile into. Finding it, he twitches the corner of his mouth upwards in a lopsided grin. He shifts to peer over the top of his glasses in the direction of Deadpool and the yelling, picking it up despite the noise, "Say 'indoor voice'!" The camera clicks.

The sudden change of music gets a definite not of approval from Tony. He turns around to the bartender as he arrives, sliding a banknote of some obscene denomination across the counter before asking, "Hey, can I stand on here?"

He doesn't wait for the response, planting both hands on the top of the bar and hoisting himself up onto it. For a guy who relies on his fancy suit to do all the heavy lifting, he isn't half bad at pulling himself up there. He walks across it, carefully stepping around glasses and people who are waving their hands up in his direction. His phone comes out and he turns about to film himself from above, getting a shot of the sea of people behind him.

"My treat?" he asks, turning around and holding his hands out to the crowd, "My treat."

He gets to the end of the bar where an antique-looking bell hangs and crouches down to ring it enthusiastically, announcing free drinks in about as elaborate a way as he can manage.

Karen Starr has posed:
    The three seconds had not passed, so as the guy on her shoulder becomes infatuated with Tony, he becomes Tony's problem. Karen stands there stoically for a moment, until one of the traveling plates of shots with people attached happens to wander in behind her. Her right hand comes up, and slips in under the tray, relieving the server of it. The left hand holds a wad of cash- not an incredible amount, but enough for the tray of shots, and some nebulous amount for a tip. She clearly isn't really bothering to count.

    There is a silence, as Power Girl hits the first shot, and then the second, and the third. By this point, Alex is asking if she wants a drink. "Yes." she responds, casually, as if she didn't have all too much alcohol already. This club will never have a night as profitable as tonight.

    As Stark begins to grandstand- Karen has to admit he's really good at it- she turns her attention to those whose private table she'd invaded. "Sorry to barge in. I'll take that drink in a second but, let me just-" At that point, she steps forward, and grabs at Wade's belt. The ease with which she plucks him up is pretty telling.

    Even moreso is how she flies out of the private booth, upright, carrying Wade by the scruff of his pants.

    She mock-drops him, -once-, but he never leaves her hand.

    Floating from on high, she instead delivers Wade to a front-row seat. Tony will probably be better at handling Wade than she is, since without him doing any actual shooting, punching is technically out.

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Mik nods to Alex, "Much appreciated." He gives a polite smile but will stay standing for a moment. Tony's antics and bell ringing catch his attention, "Though I think Mr. Stark has elected to pay instead." He snorts as Wade is carried out by Karen. "It seems that red one is being dealt with. My apologies for not introducing myself, you may call me Mikhail." He leans against the booth, "Though I will admit I did not expect this chaos when I came here. But that is life."

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma sighs deeply. She reaches out and mindwhammies one of the bartenders into making her another Long Island, as well as pouring another beer for Alex and sending them over with one of the guys with trays. With that crowd around the bar, she isn't going to even try getting a drink the normal way. She leans back against the back of the booth, observing the crowd. If anything, the club had gotten even louder than it had been earlier. She looks to the large Russian man and nods slightly. "Ms. Frost," she replies, barely managing to keep the annoyance out of her tone. Maybe next time she and Alex WILL opt for Netflix and Chill. It seems to be less chaotic.

She watches Stark with a mixture of amusement and aggravation. This is going to be all over social media if it wasn't already, giving the man a bump in the polls. Last time she had checked 538 Stark was beating Luthor in some key demographics... one of those being the demographic filling the bar this evening. This was certainly not going to hurt him.

//I'm not upset about last night,// she finally sends in a rushed thought. //I just could have prepared better. I should have considered that we might.// The White Queen was very much not happy with herself when she feels like she managed things less than perfectly.

Alex Summers has posed:
    And people wonder why Alex comes home hammered after every trip he makes to a bar constantly. It's not like he sets out to do so! But really...free drinks, paid drinks, and just the need FOR drinks add up after a while as he walks over then sits down in the boot, scooting over by Emma so Mik can have his own seat. "Alex.' he says absently, watching Stark...well, be Stark.

    //It's fine, as long as you're not sorry about it.// Alex says after a moment, taking the refilled drink and...well, draining it. Then watches Karen just pound shots. "...fuck me, you're actually Power Girl, aren't you?" he says after a moment. Because of course she is.

Wade Wilson has posed:
Deadpool gets deposited right in front of Tony with a plop, having dropped from the graceful grip of the magnificent Power Girl with all the grace and style a large dollop of pigeon dookie. And just as charming!

He sits sideways in the seat, draping a leg over an arm of the chair, wrapping an arm under the leg of the chair and, in general, going all squidgy in terms of both anatomy and posture. He's posing like one of those French girls if those French girls were drawn by Salvadore Dali on a two week ayuahasca bender.

"Tony! My man! My homme! My frommage! Long time no gurgle. I haven't seen you since that science conference in Milan. Oh man, Stephen Hawkings got you good that night," he says, switching to a robotic voice. "MY. NAME. IS. TONY. AND. I. LIKE. POOP. Ha haaaaaaaaaa, classic Hawk."

"So, seriously, I kinda wanna get my tonge burned trying out the Hot Pepper challenge, but I feel like you've got dibs so I gotta ask you: is she available? Do I have a shot? Do you have one of those swinger open relationship things? I'm okay with you participating, too, you've got a sweeeeeeeeeet tushie for the pushie. Are you a cuck, man, cause you have to tell me if you're a cuck, it's the law."

Tony Stark has posed:
Tony's brow furrows when Power Girl deposits Deadpool nearby to him. A lot of the attention has already migrated from Tony Stark to the free drinks he's providing, so he takes the opportunity to jump down neatly from the bar and straighten his blazer out a littler. A look is cast after the tall blonde as she departs, and then right on back to Deadpool.

"I think you're getting me confused for the guy Pepper can find time in her schedule for," he explains, producing his phone from his pocket and idly beginning to go over the contents, "Who, as it happens, doesn't exist. I'll tell you what, though. Next exec meeting? I'll tell her Ninja Carmen Sandiego was asking after her."

He steps around the seat that Deadpool occupies him, careful to avoid any sort of contact even in the crowded bar. He's all about flamboyance, but probably not that brand of flamboyance.

"Let me guess, you talked about the chest-window and she dragged you over here? That's not so bad. She threatened to make me intimate friends with a wine glass."

Karen Starr has posed:
    Power Girl is keeping her attention on Tony as he moves in on Deadpool. She makes a few gestures- palms thrusted at Deadpool a few times. Then, hooking her thumbs at the booth she's headed back to.

    She floats up and over the railing, landing back where she'd taken off. Idly, she picks several more shots from the tray, dropping them swiftly. Her attention is on Alex, as she returns. After that display of strength- as minor as it may be- and flight, she responds to his question.

    "Yeah. I am." she offers, before gesturing to Emma. "I'll have what she's having, if the offer's still available."

    There's a short pause, then. Her hip is cocked to one side, and she offers a confident smirk approaching a billion-dollar smile. "Listen, really, I didn't mean to interrupt your night."

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Mikhail nods and rubs his temples after taking the seat, though it is not as roomy as he would like. He lets himself relax a moment, and laughs to himself, "Could be worse, could have ran out of good liquor, but at worst so far, only annoyances." Power Girl's arrival gets a laugh, "I do not think any of us intended for this, except meddlesome oaf, and Deadpool. Probably Deadpool. Actually, Deadpool seems to exist for annoyance."

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma forces a smile. So much for date night. She shifts a bit closer to Alex, leaning slightly against him and downing half her drink. //Please tell me you had plans to take us back to your place after this,// Emma sends to Alex. //I don't care about the laundry or everything scattered for your dissertation.// She finishes her drink, and mentally calls for another round for the table. Plus shots. Drunk would be good right about now.

"Well, this bar is probably in the black for the rest of the year after tonight," she notes as the tray laden with drinks and shots arrives. She takes one of the shot glasses in hand, and lifts it a bit. "Cheers."

Alex Summers has posed:
    Alex just....sighs. "Don't worry about it." he says to Power Girl. "We're getting used to it. And sure, still welcome. Maybe if we're all at the same table it'll discourage more people from bothering us." He eyes Deadpool. "...or they'll go bug Stark...Tony Stark, in the club. Man, these past two weeks..." He shakes his head, then nods to MIk. "true, at least there's booze and entertainment..." he notes bemusedly, leaning back in the booth. //I did not, but I certainly could make that plan now.//

Wade Wilson has posed:
Deadpool would make heart-eyes if he could. Which, well, he could, but it would require him to rip open the chests of some of these lovely locals and then rip out their still-beating blood muscles and rubbing them on his eyeballs. SO MUCH INFECTION. And yeah, probably 'murder', if you want to get technical about it.

"Really? You will?!? GOSH. I'm so glad that you're able to get over the deep feelings you're repressing for her and lifting your head from your tear-stained pillow to give me, yes, me, just your average little girl, Pippy Deadpoolstocking, a chance to chow down on that frau town. You are, indeed, worthy of the highest office in the land and a beloved children's character beloved by young'uns everywhere."

He pops up and sings, "Iiiiiiiiit's a beautiful day in the Tony Stark, a beautiful day for Iron Man...won't you be mine...could you be mine...it's an armorly day in this Tonywood, a Starkily day for my booty...won't you touch it...could you touch it..."

He tosses aside his hat and monocle, shrugs off his fur coat and pulls on a red cardigan. Where did he get that?!?

"Would you be mine, could you be mine, won't you be my Toooooooonyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?"

"HI TONY."

Tony Stark has posed:
Tony watches Deadpool with detached bemusement as he speaks, only momentarily glancing up towards the departing Power Girl. He nods his head in that way that says 'I'm not Captain America, my word definitely isn't my bond' when he's asked about Pepper. Then there's the song. Okay, he's singing now.

He lifts his wrist to look at the watch he wears on it. Simple with a 'P' on the face, and his other hand raises up to brush over an innocuous little button built into the side. But he doesn't press it, instead dropping that hand into his pocket and pointing at Deadpool with the other one.

"B+," he tells him, and then he turns about to move towards the bar and flag the bartender's attention.

"You know where to send the bill, right? The big building with 'Stark' on the side."

Karen Starr has posed:
    Nearly finished with the tray of shots- and looking none the worse for wear (Kryptonians are cheating. They have to be.)- Power Girl nods a few times in tune with what Alex is saying. She takes a position by herself opposite the pair. It's not hard to tell the two have something going on, and Power Girl is going to try her best not to barge into, what, two dates in as many days? What a way to remind herself she's single.

    She raises one of the shots in toast to Emma, half expecting Wade's show downstairs to split the glass apart in her hand. "I'm honestly happy he showed up. Means there's less focus on me, and I just came here to have a couple relaxing drinks before closing out my evening." A couple? What does it take to intoxicate her? What denomination a 'couple' is is called into question. She has to mean shelves, at this point. "Figured I could go unnoticed that long. But, I'm afraid, weird things always happen."

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
After Mikhail's next drink, the alcohol is finally starting to get to him, or at least he starts to feel it, "Indeed, Stark is like flame for moths." He takes another drink, "It is indeed odd, but at least you have some, how you say, cover? Bah." He takes a few moments to collect his thoughts and try to find the right English words for them, and looks to Power Girl, "I hope the rest of your day went better. And at worst, tomorrow you get another shot at it." Mik sighs and takes another drink.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma is feeling a very good buzz now. A little more than a buzz, actually. She takes a swallow of her new Long Island and makes a face. "I suppose it has been an... interesting evening," she says. "This sort of chaos isnt something I'm very much accustomed to, but that's what the liquor is for I guess." Another drink. And she sends Alex a couple of telepathic nudges that are not safe for work. Or anywhere even remotely public, even. Did she mention she's slightly intoxicated?

Alex Summers has posed:
    Alex is feeling a bit buzzed himself...a shot and a beer and another partial beer this quickly have him at least bemusedly willing to put up with a lot. And the two don't seem too bad who've joined them either. "Me too. You look like you've had a bad one." he agrees with Mik, peering at Power girl, then his eye swidening a bit as he looks over at Emma at the nudges given, his lips twitching up a slightly cocky grin at tht. Well. He does sort of like seeing Emma this relaxed, even if it might be due to her downing Long Islands as quick as they come due to the unexpected party forming around them.

    Or the flow show with Deadpool, which is entertaining in its own way.

Wade Wilson has posed:
Deadpool points a finger at Tony, "Unfair grading. Tom Hanks has ruined the curve for the rest of us!"

"Alas, mis hijos de la noche, I'm afraid Uncle Wade desperately needs his beauty rest. To Tony Stark, I bid you good tidings and jumbo sized meatballs. To Power Girl, I hope that you get the anonymity you crave, probably by wearing one of those Michael Myers masks and carrying around a big butcher knife. It seems to work to help him be invisible, why not you?"

"To the big foriegn guy who has been quietly eye-stalking me for the duration of my time here, my number is 1-900-POOL-TOY, ask for Wade or Ginger, either one of us can help you with our needs. And, finally, to Emma Frost and her anonymous stud, I wish you a night of groovy, groovy 70s style love. Or 90s style love. Either way, Bush is going to be involved."

Deadpool climbs up on a table, "Adieu, farewell, auf wiedersehn, goodnight! Let the bed bugs bite, those little bastiches are starving in this economy. Please don't forget to like, subscribe and comment below the video. SEE YA!"

And with a flash...

He's gone.

Tony Stark has posed:
As Deadpool departs, it is only then that one of Tony's security detail finally catches up with him. The men in dark suits and glasses tasked with keeping an honest-to-god presidential candidate alive long enough to at least reach election night. Their the big, burly, no-fun sorts who clutch the conspicuous gun holster under their jackets and glare around as though Deadpool will leap out again at any moment and cause havoc.

Tony, for his part, seems to have immediately lost interest. His phone is out again, he's texting someone somewhere. One of the revellers who pauses to take a photo with him comes away with a 'Stark 2020' bumper sticker stuck across his back. The man himself whistles innocently, wanders over to the DJ booth, and asks about taking a shot at the decks himself.

A moment later he's up there, and Glen Campbell's 'Rhinestone Cowboy' begins to relentlessly and unequivocally break the mood. Tony can't help but grin broadly from behind those glasses, taking over the mayhem portion of the evening from Deadpool in a seamless transition.

From where he stands, he can see Power Girl and her associates - oh hey, fellow uber-rich elite Emma Frost. He fires off a mock salute, swaying his shoulders to the beat.

Karen Starr has posed:
    Karen is the only person in the bar that isn't Tony that, perhaps, isn't buzzed or worse. Especially with the departure of Deadpool. Still, when the Long Island that was ordered for her arrives, she takes it and drinks at it as if it were just regular Iced Tea.

    "Oh, it wasn't," she begins, in response to Mik, taking another big gulp of the alcoholic mix, before nodding to Alex. "I swear, one of these days, one of those big ones is going to hit California and we're going to hit snooze. I hate having to hold the planet together, you can be there for minutes." Is... She serious? Like with her bare hands? Gotta be one of those weird jokes that these types tell each other.

    "Anyway." she says- the way Alex jumps without stimulus only occurs to Karen because she's A: Sober, and B: Sometimes experiences the breadth of a second as something akin to several minutes. Karen isn't the kind of person to check that Emma hasn't slipped a hand somewhere, but she doesn't need any more impetus to let the two get to whatever it is they're about to get to.

    She finishes her drink around that point- not downing it aggressively or anything similar, but not really stopping her pace to draw it out. "Well. I think it's probably about time that I cut out. It's been a pleasure, Ms. Frost, Mr..." she gestures to Alex, awaiting his name, when she gets it, she continues. "Summers. And a person only known as Mikhail. I don't know if I'm disappearing into the night, but I do understand this is a private booth."

    With that, she gets up- and because the people of the club have already seen it, she floats casually out of the booth on the second floor, and down to Tony on the first. Landing, she leans on the DJ booth a bit.

    "Sorry I shacked you with babysitting duty. Someone needed to, apparently, continue to interrupt wealthy socialite Emma Frost's date."

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
As "Rhinestone Cowboy" is played, Mikhail frowns as he now has another song to figure out its significance from when he was in the freezer. As Power Girl leaves, Mikhail sees an opportunity to slip away as much as he can and says, "Thank you for drinks. It was good to meet you, but I do hope that if we ever meet again it is on better terms. But, have good evening and hopefully further trouble does not find you." He rises and says "Good night," before he makes his way towards the bar to close his tab and depart.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma finishes her latest Long Island, definitely feeling intoxicated. Enough so that her telepathy is... well, muted. The buzz of the crowd is limited to just what she hears with her ears and not her mind. She can't decide if she finds that a plus or not in her state. She politely says good evening to first PG as she leaves, then Mikhail. Leaving her and Alex alone enough for the moment.

"I am beginning to wonder if going out in public is always going to be like this," she leans on a hand, one elbow resting on the table, as she looks at Alex. "I should probably go say hello to Stark, but..." she sighs. "I'm not entirely sure I'm sober enough to handle talking to him."

Alex Summers has posed:
    Alex nods to Karen. "Alex Summers." he says, having not given his last name before, then waves to Power Girl as she flies off...which is one of those hate to see you leave, love to watch you go situation. Not like that cape is long enough to cover everything. Luckily Emma is getting more than a bit tipsy so she might not pick that up, brief as it is. "Good to meet you Mikhail, see you around maybe?" He waves, then hmms at Alex. "I can come along as moral support? Because it's Tony Stark. So you'll need a lot of that." Also, he's sort of taking in that Emma seems to be well on her way to being more than a bit unsteady. "...some water might help for a bit though, probably would help with the sobering?"

Tony Stark has posed:
"Is that what that was?" Tony asks Karen as the song plays, occasionally pausing to play with the dials and add some reverb or raise the volume - #JustNeophyteDJThings, "I thought he was a GI Joe cosplayer. I think one of the security guys almost shot him in the leg."

"Are you hanging out?" he asks, leaning in closer to Karen for a moment so one of the people in the audience can take a photo of them together on their phone, "I saw you hanging out with Emma Frost. Now I didn't think she was your speed, but I can respect that you're a mysterious flying woman who moves at Mach Fifty. You've got your secrets."

He leans over, flipping through a crate full of records with two fingers and shouting over the music to Karen as he does: "What do you think next? Jim Croce? I'm planning to just really fuck up Billboard for a solid week."

Karen Starr has posed:
    There's a small shrug. "Yeah. Kind of. That guy is a mercenary, who's insane. Regeneration powers, I think they drove him nuts. Usually harmless?" she says, with a lilt. What's harmless even -mean- to her? "I mean, honestly, he probably was at some point. Seems to me like he's just a walking parody of Deathstroke, which is a... Conversation for another time." Karen forgets that the existence of Slade Wilson might not be general knowledge.

    "Eh. I... Dropped down after a rough day. Lost my grip on a transform quake in California. Ever been clapped on by two tectonic plates getting nasty? It's not a fun way to start your day. Then a new... Meta-person crash landed in New York. I've done all I can to set her up with the Titans, or what's left of them."

    At Tony's last question, she nods a few times. "Yeah. Drop that in the queue, then follow it up with seven plays of What's New Pussycat. Then run."

    She doesn't mean Run by AWOL Nation. She means... To run.

Emma Frost has posed:
"Water is probably good," Emma allows. She glances over at him. "But... getting out of here may be better. It's been a long day. I spent my morning watching an island get destroyed over and over." Don't ask. Borrowing someone else's memories for a bit and replaying them isnt always fun and games. "And I don't even want to think about all the problems I have to deal with tomorrow. Let's go, Alex." She gave him a half-smile. "Before that last drink kicks in and I'm completely useless."

Alex Summers has posed:
    Alex mmms, stretching a bit, then reaching out to finish his beer. "Alright...let's beat feat..." he says, pushing himself up, then offering Emma a hand up herself, staying close in case she's a bit wobbly, as tipsy as she seems. "Let's get you home to get some rest then so you can deal with it all..." he says agreeably. Not too far to a cab, eithe rway.

Tony Stark has posed:
"Tectonic plates? I think so. Hamburg. The - " Tony butchers the German words, "Internationale Technologieausstellung."

He considers it for a moment before shrugging his shoulders and adding, "I can't complain, though. Sometimes its just nice to be included."

Karen's suggestion draws a broad grin from him, and he sets about getting the playlist all set. 'I Got A Name' by Jim Croce, leading into several plays of Tom Jones' 'What's New, Pussycat?' Satisfied, he does a little fiddling with the deck to make sure the DJ can't undo his Stark-ified playlist when he's done. He glances over towards the private booth again.

"Looks like Frosty and her guy are taking off, so I guess I don't have to gladhand, at least. Say, what do the watch provisions say about helping me get out of here at high speed, so I don't have to wade through these guys? I appreciate their support, but I get the feeling two thirds of them are gonna be too hungover to get out and vote anyway."

Karen Starr has posed:
    Karen raises a brow at what she's sure is a joke from Tony. "Wasn't sure your suit could survive the strain. Anyway," she begins, turning her head to map out an escape route should anyone have heard her suggestions, as the party is soon to turn from dance into riot. It's real science performed by Dr. Mulaney at CGNU that people can only stand seven plays of What's New Pussycat? before resorting to violence.

    "Yeah, they were uh- they were on a date. Tonight was apparently a good night for them." she offers, listening to the proposal. "Keep your head upright." Placing one hand firmly on his shoulder in a most unfriendly way, unless Tony objects heavily... There is a pressure at the base of his skull, as Karen moves him so quickly that he's no longer in the club. In fact, he's in his car.

    That's one thing they never write about in the papers. How -disorienting- and -uncomfortable- that feels. Everyone is just thankful to be saved- but never comments about how they didn't feel quite right afterwards.

    Also, she left the security guy in there because he's an adult and can take care of himself. Poor guy.

    "Okay. Done. You can ride off into the sunrise." There's a confident smirk that goes along with it. Tony's on-person alarms are probably going off pretty heavily, as he just went a lot faster than they're used to outside of a suit.

Tony Stark has posed:
That was intense. Tony's suits are designed to keep him comfortable even when moving at incredible speed or withstanding unimaginable pressures. His normal, human body? Not so much. He's more than a little dazed and confused when he winds up in the car, looking this way and that for a moment. He gets a little green around the gills for a second but manages to keep it down. He turns to look at Karen, looking her over critically for a moment.

"You know," he tells her, voice a little croaky, "That's not nearly as fun as it looks in the movies. I thought we were going to soar out a window while you carried me."

He leans forward in the seat, hands planted on his knees, and takes a deep breath. Then he sits back up and looks at the Kryptonian once more.

"You're not gonna need a lift home, are you?"

Karen Starr has posed:
    "I feel like people don't mention it enough, it's a major pitfall of living in Metropolis. Losing your lunch because an apocalyptic event required you be moved at speed." she offers, giving this little shrug. "Yeah, that wasn't going to happen. I'd have had to break a window, And honestly the whole slow fly out of a window carrying someone is reserved for special occasions. I can't give everyone that kind of white glove treatment."


At Tony's remark, she leans over and looks into the car for a few moments. "Wow yeah, no, there's just no room," she states, indicating the spaciousness of the limo. "Somebody'd have to sit on the floor. It'd get awkward. I'll just get a cab, right? Oh, better yet, I borrowed Wonder Woman's invisible crane to fling me haphazardly at Metropolis. I've only got it for a couple days. Have to get my money's worth."

    With that, she starts to rise up into the sky, but in this awkward pose, as if being hoisted by, you guessed it, an invisible crane.

Tony Stark has posed:
"Hey, I feel like I warrant the white glove treatment," Tony answers, though he's a little out of it from the sudden super-speed travel, "Billionaire, national hero and all."

As Karen begins to rise awkwardly into the air, he can't help but grin a little. There's even a laugh from him. The man who is so often nonplussed and the source of the dry humor has actually proved susceptible to it for a change. That said, he does tilt his head to watch her levitate for a bit from the ground vantage because, well, Tony Stark.

It's only when she's gone that he lets that sickly expression cover his face. He rubs his forehead, puffs out his cheeks, and sighs: "Okay. Never moving that fast again."

Karen Starr has posed:
    Karen wags her hand back and forth as she rises into the air. "Eh," she begins, "There are some criteria for the white-glove treatment you don't necessarily fit. I mean, being a beloved hero of the nation does help, but there's a certain... Je ne sais quoi that you're lacking."

    Karen continues to rise out of sight, and then eventually hits a point where it's safe to continue committing to the joke, flying in such a way that it looks like she's been launched by the crane. Then, there's that mock-thunder, and she's gone. She's probably back in Metropolis by the time Tony's ready to drive off.