Owner	Pose
Sara Pezzini	The address shared in texts was to a medium sized house in Brooklyn, out by the college. It has a small front yard, a long driveway leading back to a one and a half car garage, a fenced in back yard, and the house itself was two floors. The house is on the older side, matching the others in the neighborhood, and like the others it is well taken care of. Three small steps lead up to the walkway, then four more up to the small front porch and the front door with security screen. For all the world it looks like the perfect family house.
Wade Wilson	Wade rides up on his motorcycle to the location and sets the helmet on the bike before making his way up to the door. He's humming a soft tune under his breath and even sings the final line before he knocks. "~It's the bigger love of the faaaaaamily...~" he murmurs before rapping a hand to the door and humming off the final piano line of the theme to Family Matters.     He's in his leathers, minus the mask before the helmet of the bike was stifiling enough for him. He has a mask in one of his pouches just in case his appearance is too much for the family. But he wasn't in the habit of hiding himself from those he cared about and Sara definitely fit that bill, so in a way, her family did too.
Sara Pezzini	Through the window on the door he can see Sara step up to unlock the door before pulling it open, then unlocking the screen. She's dressed in a t-shirt that's a size too large, and long down to the middle of her thighs, and a pair of boxer style pajama bottoms. Through the front door is the living room, where all the furniture remains covered in the white sheets placed here after her father's death. A big and warm fire burns merrily in the fire place that is the focal points of the room, all the covered couches and chairs are aimed at it. Spread out in in front of the fire place is a large fluffy blanket, back far enough so as to not catch any embers that might drift out. "Come on in," she offers, stepping back so eh can get by, then shuts the screen and door, locking both. "Welcome to my dad's... well, my house." Near the blanket is a glass filled with whiskey, as well as a couple of bottles of whiskey, and one of rum. "You can take sheet off the couch if you want, or just sit on the blanket with me."
Wade Wilson	Wade smiles at the woman. "I'll sit with you if it's all the same" he says, placing a hand on her shoulder. He would lean in for a kiss but from the look of everything, she's likely not in the mood for it, so he won't push. "It's very... 90s sitcom. Family Matters, Full House, Rosanne, and of course the best of them all Golden Girls."     He moves to the blanket before the fire and settlles down. "Needed some time away from it all?" he asks, his gesture is clear enough to mean the city and the troubles therein. "Or just needed time away... period?" he asks arching a hairless brow at the woman. He's celarly watching her for body language trying to get a feel for her mental state from the unsaid cues everyone gives off.
Sara Pezzini	Everything about Sara scream agony, not physical but emotional. She's not even attempting to hide it, which is unlike her. It's on her face, in her eyes and even in the way she moves. When he places the hand on her shoulder however, she's the one who leans over and kisses him lightly on the cheek, then takes his hand to walk over to the blanket. "Full house," she comments with a nod. "I think that's exactly what my dad was going for." Settling down onto the blanket, crossing her legs up comfortably, she offers a slight shrug. "I needed to time in general, away from the angels, from SHIELD, from... all of it. I've been trying to find myself in all the crap going through my head, and... I'm not there yet." Picking up the glass, she takes a sip of the whiskey, then offers one of the bottles toward Wade. Another glass is pulled out from under the couch, it's wrapped in plastic to keep it clean, which is then offered. "I know what happened during that week," she states, the same she had said in the text. "It's not good."
Wade Wilson	Wade frowns and takes the glass before putting a measure of the alcohol in it. He can't get drunk--not from anything that's on the market at least--but he likes the taste of rum well enough. He sips at it and apprecaites the slow burn that turns to a tingle a seond later in his gut. "The one you were missing from all that time ago?" he asks.     He remembers her talking about it when they first met. Memories she didn't have. A hole in her mind. In her past. He had often wondered what would cause such a hole. "The Thule's did something to do you then, didn't they?" he asks. He's aware of torture methods. Hell, he's been on both ends of such activities in his time, and he knows that the brain can really do a number of hiding bad shit from you if you let it. He wonders which this is for her: missing memories, or hidden for her sake.
Sara Pezzini	At first the answer is a nod as Sara stares at the flames, the way they flicker toward the sky via the chimney. "Do you want the full version or the highlights of the hell?" She finally says after a time, slowly turning her blue eyes to look at him. It would be easier to tell him then it had been to tell Jon or Cael, because although they were friends and each had lived their own versions of hell, Wade had lived, died and lived hell again, the exact number she didn't know. "I told Jon, and Cael, neither made it any easier to deal with," she adds after a deep breath. "But I know talking about it is supposed to help."
Wade Wilson	Wade shrugs a bit. "Whatever you're willing to give. Talking does help... for some. Really depends on what you got. I don't talk too much about everything done to me during the Weapon X program, or the Workshop, or whichever was truly responsible for my... activation." He honestly doesn't remember which one -was- responsible for what he is these days. It's easier when they don't have a face, really. "But for you, it might be different."     He lays out, resting his head on one hand. "Tell me what you're comfortable with telling me and we'll see where to go from there. Sound fair?" he asks, reaching out with his other hand to run gloved hand over her leg in a comforting manner. "Whatever it is, you know I can handle it. Just start when you're ready."
Sara Pezzini	Shifting her position a little, Sara takes hold of his free hand to just hold... it's hers now, he doesn't get it back. With her other hand, she actually caresses his head, no fucks given about the lack of hair, just taking a moment of comfort from him being there before she drops into the pit. "That sounds fair to me," she then offers, reaching to pick the whiskey back up. "I was on the right track regarding the case I was working at the time. Missing persons, a set of twins, Mindy and Matthew Richards, ten year told kids, missing a week. Got a lead that seemed legit, the description given matched the twins, including things that weren't shared on the news." Closing her eyes, her jaw locks for a moment. If she were the type to grind her teeth, she would be, but she doesn't... just tight jaw for a moment. "I should have taken back up, but I was being cocky... what could effect Witchblade?" she snorts. "So I went to follow the lead alone, and it was a trap specifically for me. Minute I stepped into one of the abandoned apartments, bam. Ritualistic circle under the carpet that went off. Red smoke whipped up around me, I felt myself breath it in I could stop myself, so far even Witchblade didn't have time react, then an inferno like heat ripped through my body and into my mind." "In that instant I was no longer me." She breaths out slowly, then pushes on. "I was an entity trapped behind bars in my own mind, unable to control my own body, watching everything from inside through my own eyes like a window to the world I was no longer a part of. I couldn't do a damn thing, I just stood there like a statue as Ava von Strucker, the leader of the Thule Society, stepped from the shadows, laughing. She was the one in control."
Wade Wilson	Wade listens as she speaks, letting her use his hand as an anchor point for to draw her back if she needs it. At the mention of von Strucker his eyes narrow. The woman was on his personal shit list for what she's done to Sara and he's certain there will be a reckoning for her actions, but the woman was good about hiding and the feelers he put out to find her had turned up nada.     "What did she do with you while you were under her control?" he had memories of being used as a weapon before. Memories he didn't dwell on much since they also had to do with his mouth being sewn shut. It wasn't him, not really, but it had his name, his face, his attitude... at least before Weapon X did what they did to that version on him.
Sara Pezzini	Sara's face registers anger, frustration, and horror all at the same time as the sensation of that moment hits her again, though it was slightly less then last time. It was getting easier, not by much, but enough to understand that talking did help. "She tried to take Witchblade, but he changed into the gauntlet to stop her. I guess she had suspected she wouldn't be able to because that's when she laughed and told me to armor up. Without hesitation, it happened. Witchblade wrapped the armor into place around me as if I had told him to do it, and I know I didn't ask him to. I was still trying to get control back. She ordered me to follow her to the backroom of the apartment, called me her puppet and told me she needed me to kill for her to seal the magics she had been working." She paused again, licking her lips before taking another drink of the whiskey, a large drink, a very large drink. "It was the twins, Wade," she managed to breath out, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. No matter how many times she said it, it still hurt to remember, to relive this part. "They had both been tied up and were gagged. Their little bodies had been placed in some kind of ritual markings on the floor. I was screaming inside my own head, screaming and screaming but nothing could hear me because my body wasn't my own! The short sword appeared in my hand and I started to move toward them, that's when I heard von Strucker hiss, 'No! It cannot be quickly, they must bleed to death!' Their eyes pleaded with me, they were sobbing against the gags." Sucking in a deep, quivering breath, she just keeps going. "I... I couldn't stop myself! The short sword changed to a stiletto knife and I followed her orders! I slit their wrists and... and held them down... I... I held them there as the blood flowed from their bodies into the circle, empowering it, then empowering the metal at the center of it all. I held them through the struggling, their desperate cries getting less and less, the struggling getting weaker and weaker, until they bled to death!!"
Wade Wilson	Wade desn't show outrage or horror or disgust as the process Sara describes is laid out. He's not done worse himself, but he's seen worse in his time. Even before he became what he is today he was a mercenary and that included bounties on some of the worst humanity had to offer. He's seen dead kids before. "And telling you their blood isn't on your hands doesn't change the fact that it was your hands that did it... controlled or not..." he says. It doesn't have the tone of question.     Because it isn't.     Wade had been responsible for the deaths of a number of kids, kids he hadn't gotten to in time. Kids who suffered fates possibly worse than slow, terrifying deaths because he wasn't fast enough, or smart enough, or because he was too damn focused on the money and not on what really mattered. And even if he hadn't broken those kids, he had their blood on his hands all the same. "Just two or were there more?" he asks his expression grim as he takes another sip of the alcohol.
Sara Pezzini	The grip on the hand Sara is holding gets tighter, not hard just a squeeze that gets held. She wants to scream, but she tried that once and it didn't do any good. "More," she breaths out. "And their parents... that's how they made the impostor. Six more children, two sets of parents... I can still see their faces, hear their voices. It's all right there, in my head... I know their names, where they lived..." Lifting the glass to her lips she finishes it off then sets the glass down. "Thing is, Witchblade had no idea it wasn't me. It was until the barriers of the ritual to control me started to weaken that I could finally scream through and he heard me, he broke the spell entirely. In that moment, I was reeling from what happened, screaming to forget that I'd done those things to those people and..." she sighs. "He listened. He tried to protect from the knowledge, and took the memories away, just... gone. He really believed it was the best thing for me, and he did it because he realizes he failed me by not realizing it wasn't me." Finally looking over at him, she sort of snorts, "I know it wasn't me, but the blood is still on my hands, and his hands."
Wade Wilson	Wade nods and moves to sit up. "I know. I do." And the sincerity in his voice and his expression was clear even without telepathic powers. "So what do you plan to do about it? What options do you have before you?" he asks, reaching up to give a stroke to the side of the woman's face.     "I mean, is it a quest for vengeance? Against von Strucker? Is it a quest for atonement against what was done to you?" he frowns and looks at the woman's wrist for a moment. "Or is is a quest for redemption, because of the blood you now carry?
Sara Pezzini	Sara leans into his hand, craving that touch and warmth. She's been on a spiraling path of self abuse for the almost a week, then starts to climb out of the pit, only to fall in again. "Those families deserve justice," she says quietly. "I know my going to jail for the murders would solve nothing, that it wouldn't be justice because the true guilt lies on von Strucker. I want revenge for what she did to me, as well as justice and vengeance for what she did to those family. It won't redeem me, honestly I don't think anything will." "I considered taking all of this to Peggy Carter at SHIELD, but her answer would be to arrest von Strucker and I /know/ that won't work. Everything the impostor knew about her, I know. I know there is no jail that could hold her, she has teleportation spells all over herself." She shakes her head, clearly still battling with all this inside herself. "Justice. For me, until now, that has always been the law... but the law doesn't apply to people like her. People who can and will freely murder mundane humans just because they can. No... this bitch needs to be judged by some one meant for this, and that's Ghost Rider."
Wade Wilson	Wade nods. He agrees with her. There are beings out there which no jail in this world can hold and judgement is the perview of the Bone Daddy himself. "Alright. And for you? What do you need to do for you. Let Johnny have her soul... you want her body? You want to visit horrors on her that she will fear for the rest of eternity?" He knows he does. He could do it too. There are things that he could do that would make someone like the von Strucker -beg- for death. But it's not his call. It's hers.     "Or do you just need to sit it out? Let Ghost Rider, me, others do the leg work on this. We bring her justice and you... recover?" He sounded uncertain of that path. It didn't seem right or fair to her for them to play White Knight in this. Especially since neither of them were very White Knight in other matters: one of them is an unholy terror, the other a flaming skeleton on a bike. "Or is there another path for you in this. One I can't see?"
Sara Pezzini	"That's the problem," Sara replies quietly, reaching for the whiskey bottle and pouring more into her glass. "I don't know. Not since being chosen by Witchblade have I felt so lost, so uncertain." Her eyes fall on the silver band bracelet, the two parts woven together into one on her right wrist. "He's keeping the impostor piece like this," she comments. "Because lives were taken to create it that should not have been, he will not let those death be in vain, he refuses, and I agree with him. That's what he can offer to all this, but me? I know that when Ghost Rider judges her, she'll be dead, mind and body, and her soul will go straight to hell. I'm okay with that, she deserves that." Swirling the liquid in the glass, she takes another drink. She's learning quickly that the alcohol doesn't numb the mind as much as it used to, that's probably something to do with the bracelet she can't take off. "I want her to suffer. for every minute I have to suffer, I want it returned her tenfold, but... that's the darkness in my heart talking, perhaps its even a little of him talking, cause it's not like me." Scooting closer to him, she leans against him lightly. "I have to be part of finding her and seeing her finished. It won't take the blood of my hands, but it will see justice done and I need that. There's just one little problem..." she looks up at his face. "... I don't intend to use Witchblade, willingly, again. None of this was his fault, I /know/ that... but none of it would have happened if he hadn't chose me. And I know that's wrong, and selfish, but I need to figure out who /I/ am, what /I/ can do, if anything... and decide if this is what I'm really meant to be doing."
Wade Wilson	Wade wraps his arm around her, holding her close. He can respect that. Her decision. He had a similar one in his past. When he decided to go for a walk into the ocean and just stay there. See what it was like to just not be for a while. He found his reason to come back, but it was a slow thing. He hopes it won't be as slow for her.     "Alright. That's fair. You're more than just some suit for the armor to carry around anyway..." he replies with a smile and a press of his lips to her hair. "I'll be with you every step of the way because I love -you-. And I'm not going anywhere, no matter what... well, unless you get tired of me and then we can make a few bucks by going on some garbage TV show as a last hurrah?" He gestures slowly with an open hand as he reveals the subtitle for this fictional talk show. "'Ugly Fucks and the Women who Loved Them' or something like that." He lifts the rum to his lips again and sips another sweet tingle down.
Sara Pezzini	The hug is returned, in fact Sara latches on like velcro. Sometimes, even the darkest moment, you just needed to be close to the one you love, if she could crawl into him she would, but for now she'd settle for the hug. "More than the armor," she nods in agreement. "I realize that should make sense, that /should/ be the truth, but there's a part of my brain that doesn't believe that and right now, it's the one screaming the loudest." Giving him a nudge, she snorts a little laugh. "Hey, that's not Ugly Fucks, I mean you're a good fuck, yes, but for a title, should Ugly Assholes and the Woman who love them." A small grin that spreads a little more and then she places a soft kiss to his lips. "But that's not going to happen because I love you. Normally I'd warn you to run, the last man I loved is in a coma for the rest of this life... but since you are so resilient, I think your safe."
Wade Wilson	"I've been in a coma once, but I won't tell you how" Wade says with a smile. Besides, he didn't like thinking about the iron spike shoved through his brain and left there. It hurt. "But for you I'd climb out of that dark pit just to see your face."     He kisses her this time, deeply, and gives her a grin when he pulls away. "So... your childhood home huh?" he says, looking around. "That means your old bed is somewhere in here, huh?" he asks, the grin splitting into a wicked smile. "I have some thoughts about that... if you're up to proving just how good a fuck I am."     He might have winked toward one of the windows in the living room before looking back at her.
Sara Pezzini	"How is it you always know just exactly the right thing to say?" Sara asks with a half smirking grin. "Cosmic radition?" There was however one teeny-tiny part of Sara's brain that briefly, very briefly, considered just how wrong Wade's suggestion was. It was her father's house after all, but her room was still up there on the second floor. Probably still had the same pictures on the walls, her father had never been one for change. He'd always tried to keep a routine, keep things moving as they always had. "Give me your hand and let me show you the sanctuary that was guarded by a former officer of the law," she says as the grin broadens even more. Part of it may be the alcohol, the other part was simply that she wanted him. "Just ignore the posters, they're from my high school days." They were mostly of motorcycles and fast cars, with a couple of Robert Downy Jr. and one of two of Scarlett Johansson... teenager with priorities apparently.