15433/Deli Run!

Deli Run!
Date of Scene:	06 August 2023
Location:	Katz's Deli, Lower East Side
Synopsis:	What was supposed to be a quick bite at Katz's turns awkward when Gwen Stacy runs unexpectedly into Felicia Hardy. Gwen gets inexplicably competitive and jealous over Peter, meets Ivory, and then things get REALLY crazy when Deadpool, Bebop, and Rocksteady show up. Luckily, Ghost Spider shows up to try to capture Bebop and Rocksteady while she has the chance, luring them away from the diner.
Cast of Characters:	Ghost Spider, Ivory, Black Cat, Spider-Man, Deadpool, Shredder

---

Ghost Spider has posed:
*THWIP*

Ghost Spider swung through the bustling streets of New York, her hood fluttering in the wind. As she approached the deli, she pulled her phone from her pocket (What pocket? No one knows!), tapping the screen to accept the incoming call.

"Hey, MJ, what's up?" Gwen asked.

As she rounded the corner, the familiar red neon sign of Katz's Deli came into view.

"Yep! Almost there! Alright. I'll get you the usual. No, I won't forget the pickles this time. Alright, later!"

Gwen ended the call, slipping the phone back into her pocket, and *TWIPPED* up onto a rooftop, disappearing from view. A few minutes later, a perky blonde woman with a smile on her face, a fitted black vest, white blouse, purple mini-skirt, calf-high boots, and a black headband rounded onto the sidewalk. She carried a khaki backpack just like the one Ghost Spider had been carrying. Thankfully, no one ever notices.

Opening the door to to Katz's, she grabbed a numbered ticket from the dispenser by the door and stepped into the warm, inviting ambiance of the deli.

It was a quiet day at Katz's, a rare occurrence that Gwen was all too happy about. She joined the cafeteria-style line, and the aroma of the pastrami wafted through the air as she grabbed a tray, her eyes scanning the options. Then she started to pile food onto her tray - a few sandwiches, some pickles, a slice of cheesecake, a bag of chips, and a large root beer. The mountain of food seemed almost comical given her figure.

Ivory has posed:
Standing in line with a tray, number and a salad that was packed with tuna, some maki rolls and a large bottle of soda is a white haired person, wearing a jeans jacket with cats. Today it's a pair of them: a black shorthair sitting on a stack of books, wearing a pointy hat with wide brim, some star twirling around the tip of it, while a white persian was trying to draw some sort of circle using a piece of blue chalk held in the mouth.

Black Cat has posed:
    Ivory isn't alone in line. Just behind her stands a tall young woman with long, stark white hair pulled back into a ponytail. She wears a fitted white tank top that leaves her arms and shoulders bare, paired with a black choker around her neck and sparkly black bangles on each wrist. For once, she is wearing comparatively minimal makeup (for her) with minimalistic mascara.
    When Gwen enters the deli, Felicia turns slightly, her lips quirking upwards as she looks the blonde up and down. She taps Ivory's shoulder and takes their arm in her hand before tugging them back along with her in the line so they can stand next to Gwen. "Hi," she says, flashing a catlike grin.

Ghost Spider has posed:
Thanks to the magic of fate (or suitable substitute), Gwen's only a few people back in line from Ivory and Felicia, so she'd done some amount of glancing up at both the denim jacket that stood out in a crowd /and/ the fact that both of them had white hair.

It's just that one of them she happens to know.

It's not that Gwen's a slouch in the looks department. She is a fashion model, after all. But Felicia's a few years older and /gorgeous/. She has a body that men would kill (and probably had killed) to try to get their hands on. So Gwen is /definitely/ not jealous. Right? Right. She wouldn't be! It's not that Gwen had any claim on Peter or had even ever tried to have any claim on Peter. It's just been one of those sort of visceral things ever since they first met. Felicia was so... frustratingly perfect.

Not that it's a competition. Certainly not that Felicia's her nemesis or anything. She's definitely never used /that/ word when she was talking about her to her friends.

Ahem.

"Hey, Felicia," the golden blonde speaks up with a little smile when the tallest of the group speaks up, blue eyes suspiciously watching her drag the shorter, denim-clad figure along with her to stand next to her in line. The smile she offers Ivory is.. curious? Sympathetic? But then her eyes are back on Fel. "Who's your friend?"

Ivory has posed:
There's a rather familiar voice behind them, and turnign their head, the other whitehead flashes a smile too. "Oh! I know that whitehead!" Offering a smile and an arm, Ivory turns to the woman behind her, winking a moment.

"How have you been? Life treated you ok?"

That's when Gwen obviously seems to know Felicia. And earns a glance or two for talking to her like... something was off. "I guess you mean me? Ivory Valentine. White Persian Cat design. I guess..."

Pondering a moment, she turns to the other whitehead, brushing their own ponytail off the shoulder second. "Felicia, do we count as friends or accquaintences?"

Black Cat has posed:
    Felicia's lips curl further and further upwards as Gwen recognizes her. "Gwen." Those jade-green eyes scan the blonde up and down again, lingering far too long on her legs before flicking up to meet Gwen's gaze. ?Glancing over at Ivory, the white-haired woman rests her hand on the other person's shoulder casually.
    "We're friends, Ivory. How is that even a question?" She grins and fills up her tray with a chicken salad and a bottle of water. "ivory, meet Gwen..." Felicia hesitates. "I'm sorry, I don't think I know your last name, Gwennie."

Ghost Spider has posed:
Gwen's posture straightened a little under Felicia's inspection, and rather than demur, she seemed to rise to the... challenge? Felicia had a way of looking at her almost predatorially. Maybe that's why she always felt a little on edge around her, like she had something to prove. It wasn't bad enough to keep her from being pleasant, but she wasn't exactly on Gwen's list to friends phone up for 'girl talk,' either.

Ivory's question, though, brings a little laugh from Gwen's lips. "I hope I mean you. Otherwise she just kidnapped a stranger, and we're playing a /super/ spontaneous game of, 'Have you met Gwen?'" That's a How I Met Your Mother reference. That's a /really/ old show. Anyway, her smile lingers. "Nice to meet you, Ivory. I really like your jacket. One is a witch, right? And the other is.. I'm not sure."

Still, those eyes turn back to Felicia as the trio shuffle closer to the cashier together.

"Stacy," she says. "/Almost/ Doctor Stacy.. if I can ever finish my thesis." Yeah. She went there. Just casually throwing out that she was working on her doctorate. 'Cause nemesis. "What have you been up to?"

Ivory has posed:
Hand on their shoulder and called Friends, Ivory practically beams as they balance the tray on one hand, leaning over to try and counterhug with one arm. There's a little ripple over the whitehead's figure and then... floofy cat ears pop free. Literal, white, fluffy cat ears on the cat-jacket wearing whitehead.

"Well, it's a question because, you know, Stuff can be complicated."

A super spontanous game of have you met gwen? Ivory chuckles, winking in return to the statement about their jacket. "I'd say both are kittens, but I might be commiting perjury, because I made the drawing and turned it onto the jacket. Oooor the white one might be my mascot."

Spider-Man has posed:
It has been a long day. Already.

Of course that tends to happen when one burns the candle at both ends. It might not exactly be that the day has been particularly long per se so much as the fact that it is not like Peter is working on a particularly generous amount of sleep. While he might have the proportional stamina of a spider -- which is to say quite a bit -- constant sleepless nights do take their toll. Inevitably.

And Peter has had a lot of sleepless nights as of late.

It is not just because he's wanted by the authorities. Or at least his costumed alter ego is. But that pretty much screws everything else up at the same time. The encounter with Rhino and Juggernaut highlighted just how difficult it was going to be to operate as Spider-Man during broad day light. It's never exactly been easy, admittedly, but he has rarely had to dodge the police quite like he's doing at the moment. And no matter what's going on his life at the moment, he has certain committments that he just can't shirk.

The call of responsibility. Who woulda guessed that would mess up other facets of Pete's life, hmmm?

So his patrols of Central Park, seeking out the missing Dr. Curt Conners have been pushed back later and later to try and avoid running into any of the authorities in the process. Which in turn means, you guessed it, a paucity of sleep.

Regardless, the door jingles as the tousel-haired Peter Parker slips into the deli, head down at this point, his gaze focused on his hands where he seems to be busy tallying up just how much the few scruffy bills and the handful of coin might come out to. "Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine..." he mumbles to himself.

Suffice to say -- as per usual -- Peter is not exactly flush with cash. But hey, he was only a week late paying his rent this month so progress! But given that his refrigerator is almost entirely empty -- unless he wants to feast of mustard packets -- and given that Gwen suggested he stop by, here he is.

And he has no idea just what he has walked in on.

Deadpool has posed:
If there's a bell on the door of Katz's Deli, it's definitely going to jingle for a moment. There will be a cool shot of the door opening and the hint of the red and black costume that some people have come to know and love (or hate) depending on experiences with said wearer of the costume. But it's all fuzzy and out of focus shots that are designed to build up suspense in this moment.

Drops of red hit the floor and splatter as the tired boots are mostly dragging the body attached to them across the floor. Shots of the katana handles and other pouches and holsters of weaponry happen as well. This all starts to feel like a haphazard panning up to the masked face of someone that people may or may not recognize as...

DEADPOOL.

The Merc With A Mouth (somehow) looks tired as more red drops fall from various locations on his person. Making a bit of a mess on the floor beneath him. He doesn't actually see or pay attention to anyone else and just kind of gets himself in line. That's right, even Deadpool is not going to cut the line today.

It's almost too quiet of an entrance for the Despicable one and he sighs with so much overdramatics he should be on a CW show. A gloved hand is raised and more red drops from his arm as he plants the back of his hand to his forehead in such a foolish fashion that it makes absolutely no sense at all for him to be doing this. Unless he's trying to win a Daytime Emmy.

He might be.

"I swear to All 4 One, that is the last time I take a babysitting gig off Craigslist." With those words, it might become clearer that the red that's been spilling and dripping off his costume is not blood (for once). Oh no, it's PAINT. And there may be a few straggling pieces of popped balloons sprinkled across his person as well. "How do Jackie Chan, Vin Disel, Hulk Hogan, John Cena and other actors in the same weird fish out of water babysitting movie trope do it?"

There's also a Kick Me sign taped to his back. George McFly style.

Black Cat has posed:
    "Doctor Stacy," Felicia repeats, her eyes dancing with amusement as she gazes down at Gwen. "That's impressive, Gwen. What do you study?" The competitive challenge from the blond woman seems to delight her, keeping that grin across her face wide.
    She winks at Ivory and regards the appearance of cat ears with a soft giggle. She's opening her mouth to comment on them when suddenly...
    Peter arrives. "Peter!" Felicia calls, waving at the familiar man. "Come join us! I've been saving you a spot in line." She smirks and gestures for him to come over, though Deadpool's arrival does make her hesitate. She recognizes him, but it was as Black Cat that she'd met him - not Felicia.

Ghost Spider has posed:
"Biochemistry and Molecular Biology." Gwen clears her throat gently. "But modeling's paying most of my bills, right now." Take /that/ you... physically perfect person.

And then those ears pop free on Ivory's head, and Gwen has a new fascination. "I love those! Where did you get them?!"

Then.. there's Peter. She'd been keeping an eye discretely on the line.

There is a chance (an opportunity, a possibility, a likelihood if you will) that as soon as Peter steps in, Gwen starts regretting some life choices. She'd already offered to take some food to MJ, and it turns out that she'd unwittingly arranged to serve Peter up to Felicia on a silver platter.

That's fine, though. This day's going great. Maybe Peter would invite Felicia to come to her gig with him and then she could just go throw herself off a...

Deadpool.

That didn't make any sense, but neither did Deadpool ambling in right behind Peter, dripping blood all of the deli floor. There's FOOD PREP HERE FOR GOD'S SAKE. That's distracting. And gross. Almost distracting and gross enough to make her forget that she was supposed to be waving at Peter, which she sort of reluctantly did.

Gwen was already standing in line, holding a tray with enough food on it for three people.

"Hey, Peter," she calls over to him with a little smile. "I got you some..."

From Felicia, /Peter!...I've been saving you a spot in line./

Gwen's skin crawls, but she and Peter were just friends. She wasn't jealous. She definitely wasn't jealous. Not at all. Like, not even a little.

Well, maybe like... just.. a tiny bit.

You know what? Let it go, Gwen. If Peter gets close enough, she offers him the tray, but it doesn't seem to be out of any sense of expected chivalry. She's trying to get a better look at whatever Deadpool is /leaking/. Her and several other people in line. It was kind of a spectacle.

"Are you... going to be okay?"

Ivory has posed:
Chuckling a tad at the giggle towards them, Ivory's ears flick twice, then they focus on Gwen. Twitch, twitch.

"Magic," they answer, grinning wide. Yes, they just claimed cat ears are magic. Well, of course they are, because cats are magic, yes?

Their eyes dart from person to person as Peter appears and apparently tension rises between Felicia, Gwen and the somewhat scrawny boy. The nose twitches and then...

DEADPOOL.

The whitehead stiffens some, the eyes focuissing on the dripping person. What the...

"Do you need an ambulance or do we call the Avengers?"

Spider-Man has posed:
Of course it was always a pretty good bet that Gwen would be here before him. While he might -- usually -- arrive first to the scene of a crime, when it comes to any sort of social obligation it is pretty much a guarantee that he will be bringing up the rear.

It's funny how that always seems to be the case.

He is preoccupied enough that he does not immediately search out any familiar faces, instead shuffling a little deeper into the deli, his brow furrowing just a little as that familiar tingling sensation begins to resonate right in the back of his head.

Just as he hears Felicia's familiar tone calling out to him from across the bustling little deli.

Looking up slowly, he spots the white haired woman along with Gwen and Ivory standing nearby, just a hint of a flush starting to creep up the back of his neck.

Okay, it might be a little uncomfortable. Even Peter can see that. But it hardly seems like an actual threat or danger. Unless his Peter-Tingle is suddenly going to be warning him about the potential hazards of social missteps. Which would likely mean he had better get used to a constant buzzing in the back of his brain. Oh god, that would be horrible. He doesn't want to deal with that. He has enough problems in his life right now without his powers suddenly going on the fritz and why does everything happen to him all at once!

And then Deadpool brushes by him, possibly leaving a smear of blood on Pete's shoulder.

Oh.

Well, that certainly explains a few things. But it really doesn't do very much to make the intrepid reporter feel a whole lot better about the situation. He really, *really* can't afford any sort of trouble today. Especially of the public variety. So he casts a wary glance at the Merc with the Mouth as he takes his place in line, still casually bleeding all over the place.

And with a shake of his head he slips over to join the trio of young women, trying to ignore that little niggling warning in his brain pan.

"Gwen, thanks for grabbing me a tray. You didn't have to do that," he asserts with a smile, rather hastily stuffing that sad handful of cash back into his jacket pocket like it doesn't actually exist before dipping his head towards Felicia as well. "Hey, what a coincidence, running into you here. It's been awhile," he says cheerily, or at least with a pretty good semblance of it. "Thanks for holding a spot for me," he offers up.

He's not sure that she actually did. He's not sure if she actually knew he'd be here, though anything's possible.

But hey, it would be rude not to at least be polite, right?

Deadpool has posed:
"Okay?! Do I LOOK like I'll be okay?!" Deadpool flails his hands around above his head and paint starts going everywhere. "Listen to me close, people!" Deadpool hops up onto the nearest table to get the deli's attention. "Don't Babysit! Ever! You may THINK it's going to be like an episode of Muppet Babies! But it's not! Trust me!"

Deadpool drops down to sit on the table and hugs himself. He even adds in the rocking back and forth for some extra dramatics. "It was almost as bad as watching anything starring Tara Reid." There's an extra shudder that comes from Deadpool as he envisions that. Then it kind of stops as he tilts his head to the side. "Okay, minus Sharknado. She was pretty good in that. But then again, Sharknado is a cinematic masterpiece. Am I right or am I right?" Deadpool's just full out dripping paint all over somebody's food. Who knows. This is probably why he shouldn't be allowed in public spaces.

Deadpool's attention spins towards Ivory in that next moment. "Wait a second. YOU KNOW THE AVENGERS?!" The lenses of his mask widen for comical effect and his hands smack against the sides of his face. "Holy Snikt, if you give me their number I'll love you forever. Do you know how long I've been trying to get an audition with those guys? I swear, every time I fill out an application, I just get sirens and SWAT teams in response. I wonder if it has something to do with the heads of muggers that I always include with them. Maybe I'm trying too hard to impress."

Deadpool seems to have forgotten all about the fact that he came here to get some food. He digs around in one of his pouches to come out with an old school tape recorder and clicks it. "Deadpool's Huge Log. Scardate: Today. I've learned a valuable lesson about being a Tryhard today from some yahoos in the deli. Some yahoos with the Avengers digits. Digits that I'm not leaving here without. Soon, my journey to becoming Captain America's Teen Sidekick will realized and I'll be able to use my Avengers discount at every shwarma place in the city! Hashbrown Goals."

Black Cat has posed:
     "Oh my God, I can so see you as a model. What kind of modeling? Swimsuit? Lingerie?" Felicia asks innocently, her eyes wide. "Are you, like, famous? I'd love to be friends with someone famous." She beams at Gwen. "We're friends, right? I think we are, at least."
    Her attention is grabbed by Peter, who gets beamed at next. "It's good to see you, Petey. Been a little while. How've you been?"
    She eyes Deadpool and sniffs before turning to Ivory. "Here, if I give you my card will you buy my food and use it for yours, too? My treat." From a pocket somewhere (it's unclear where exactly) she produces a shiny silver debit card and hands it to Ivory, along with her tray. Then, all-too-casually, Felicia slinks off towards the ladies' room.

Ghost Spider has posed:
With the tray of food shoved into Peter's hands (come on Spider-reflexes), Gwen steps over towards the drops of blood on the floor that most people were actively shying away from. There's no telling how many diseases Deadpool was carrying, after all. But unlike the rest of the crowd, the seemingly entirely unsqueamish fashion model / biochem doctoral candidate crouches in her little purple miniskirt and heeled, calf-high boots. One dainty hand lowers to one of those spots on the floor, dabbing it lightly with a fingertip, which then rubs together with her thumb and lifts up TO HER FACE!!

She gives it a sniff. All while Deadpool is monologuing for the deli. The exact same deli where When Harry Met Sally was formed and Meg Ryan filmed one of the most iconic scenes of her career. Deadpool's performance was almost as memorable. Moreso, probably, for those gathered and still concerned about a potential biohazard.

"This isn't blood. Are you covered in... finger paint?!" Loud enough for most of the deli to hear, since an odd sort of hush (soon replaced by concerned mutterings and mothers leaving with their children) had fallen over the whole place. "And did you /really/ wear weapons to /babysit/?! /Please/ tell me you don't actually cut off people's heads. Especially in front of children..."

But, on the bright side of things, the line to the cashier had entirely cleared out.. as well as the whole rest of the people waiting to get food. So, now it was just their little group able to get food and pay as needed.

"Hey, it's no big deal. You sort of saved me the other day." There's a beat. It might have been filled by a wink in a less obvious setting, but she managed to resist. "...At the charity show. Consider it a thank you."

Then there's Felicia again, assuming whatever modeling Gwen does, it involves taking most of her clothes off. She presumes it's an assumption. She didn't seem to have any idea at all that it might have been a.. hope.

"Runway," she says. "Fashion shows, mostly. Nothing international, but we have some pretty incredible designers here in New York that are constantly doing shows or hosting events to raise money for charity."

Then Felicia's excusing herself, and Gwen /finally/ looks back at Ivory again, the little group arriving at the cashier just as Gwen's pulling out her wallet. She half considered asking Ivory just to put the whole thing on Felicia's card, but she wasn't /that/ 'catty.'

"Did you say MAGIC?" the blonde woman asks, smiling and handing over a card of her own to the cashier when it's her turn to pay. She gestures to the piled-high tray Peter hopefully didn't drop. "Where can I get magic cat ears? I /need/ them."

Spider-Man has posed:
Hey, look at that. Things didn't go so bad at all.

Of course the day is still early -- no matter how long Peter might have already been up for and Felicia has just excused herself, not made her good-byes. Who's to say that the tingling in the back of his head is just related to Deadpool.

Sometimes it's a good idea to hedge your bets. And sometimes you just can't really afford to make any sort of bet at all.

That would be Peter. Lunch should probably just about wipe him out, though at least he has a few subway tokens tucked away since the web-slinging through town might be a bad idea at the moment.

Sigh. Maybe he can get an advance on his next paycheck. Jameson is known to be such a kind, generous employer afterall.

Either way, when the tray is pushed towards him Peter grabs on with those cat-like -- or spider-like -- reflexes of his. He too is pretty unsqueamish when it comes to blood and the like, all in the name of SCIENCE! of course. But it looks like Gwen's got it handled. And when she pronounces the dripping red liquid as paint, Pete finally catches a glimpse of his painted shoulder. Looks like he will also need to hit the laundry mat.

This day just keeps getting better and better.

"Hey, I think you might have been saving me," the tousel-haired young man counters with a smile for Gwen. "At the very least there was some mutual saving," he asserts, starting to move towards the cashier as the rest of the line clears out.

"Magic?" he asks curiously. "I could use some magic too," he asserts, glancing between Gwen and Ivory.

But mostly he is sneaking peeks at Deadpool. And desperately hoping that the situation does not somehow escalate into something far more troublesome. The paint is unfortunate. The lecture on the dangers of babysitting is kinda funny. The mention of decapitated heads decidedly worrisome. Now if it just stops there...

Of course it's Deadpool. How likely is it that it will just stop there?

Shredder has posed:
    Because the deli hasn't seen enough absurdity today, there's a few screams from the exiting patrons of the restaraunt as they clear the door, hastening their departure. The reason becomes clear after a few moments. A large gray form ducks through the door, a bit large, but somehow manages to navigate the entrance. A mutant rhino in a filthy wife beater and cargo pants.

    He's followed by an equally intimidating figure, a brownish toned mutant warthog with sunglasses and an open vest. Are those live grenades on it?

    "I'm tellin' ya, everybody says this place has the best reubens, Rock."
    "I dunno, Bop, I think it's hard to top Marv's, but we'll give it a shot." They stroll past Wade as they enter, catching only the last part of the rant. "Oh man, it's one of those cosplayers," Rocksteady casually slaps Bebop on the shoulder for his attention. "I give it an 8, really. He needs to work on the chest part. His costume totally looks different than that."

Ivory has posed:
Taking the card from Felicia, Ivory nods, rearranging the tray to hold both their purchases. "Sure Felicia-kitten." Ivory muses as the other whitehead slips to the bathroom, eyining Deadpool from the seide of their eyes.

It's when Deadpool asks them if they know the Avengers, that they shrug. Slowly, backing towards the payment counter "Uh... no? I mean, I would call SHIELD on their report number or something...."

Quickly turning to pay for the stacked tray, and hoping Deadpool focusses on Gwen as she talsk about finger paint. The heartbeat of the cat-eared one calms as those ears follow the ramblings, and the details of the discussion.

"Oh! Who you modeled for? I might know some of them." Ivory contends, using the chance of payment to pull a business card to hand Gwen, just as she asks about Magic. "Well, of course Magic. Why would someone be born with the ability to just plop up cat ears from nowhere? That is, unless they are an alien and that's their species' trait. But sorry, that's my magic alone." Pushing the tray aside, they brush over the side of the head, in a fashion that very much indicates that there are no normal ears there. "What you need cat ears for I wonder... Unless..." There's a row of inquisive glances wandering from Gwen to Peter and back. "Are you two like that?"

Deadpool has posed:
"Not just /any/ finger paint. This is the good stuff!" Deadpool shoves his tape recorder into one pouch and then goes into another pouch to yank out a package of finger paints. Which he holds up and looks off to the wall that doesn't exist for just a moment.

"Da Vinci Finger Painting kits are the top of the line in artistic expression. Available in a host of hard to pronounce fancy schmancy versions of normal colors, Da Vinci Finger Painting Kits are hours of fun for everyone! Available online at DaVinciColorCodes.com. Use the Promo Code: FINGERME for 25 cents off your first order."

With that ad done, Deadpool tosses the finger paints over his shoulder and returns his attention to the collective of people that have actually stayed to witness his chattering. "Um. First of all, don't weapon shame me, okay? Get woke, sister." Deadpool makes some hashtag signs with his fingers. "I identify as a weapon haver so I can take my weapons wherever I want. ESPECIALLY to babysit. Kids are MONSTERS. Unless they're Incorporated. Then they are an awesome cover band featuring Mario Lopez on drums." Deadpool nods firmly after schooling Gwen with his Woketivism.

"Cut off heads?! In front of children?! You're sick, lady!" Deadpool is suddenly wearing a black wig which gets hair tossed as he feels oh so disturbed from Gwen's line of questioning. "Wait until Twitter X Premium Plus Ultra Blue Velvet Musk Dot Com hears about this! CANCEL CULTURE RULES!" Another Karen flavored hair toss is added for good measure.

And now we get a shot of Deadpool doing a triple take. Maybe even a quadruple take. At Rocksteady and Bebop. Deadpool shakes his head for a few more times, slinging paint around because it's just going to keep happening at this point because of the hilarity and it seems like Deadpool might have some hearts in the lenses of his mask. "Hominahominahominaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" Deadpool moves quick and silently to slip an arm around Pete's shoulder. "First of all, dibs." Deadpool points at the warthog and the rhino. "Second of all, please tell me you're seeing them too? Because I've been known to see and speak to things that aren't actually there."

\<span style="color:xterm11"\>Like this Yellow Text right here.\</span\>

"Exactly."

Deadpool whines to the people still around. "Somebody go talk to them for me. I'm having a Teen Girl With A Crush Moment. Plus, this stupid wig does not go with my current ruined outfit and I do NOT have time for a makeover montage." Deadpool turns to look at that wall that doesn't exist again. "Or do I?"

\<span style="color:xterm11"\>No.\</span\>

"Damn."

Ghost Spider has posed:
/You're sick, lady!/

Gwen groans. "Okay, first off, saying you identify as a 'weapons haver' is /incredibly/ offensive..."

But there's no 'rest off.' Deadpool just kept going, and the amount of energy it was going to take to fail to correct the behavior just didn't seem to exist in the universe, so Gwen looked back at Ivory.

"Emiliana De Luca, Astrid Wren, Lila Monroe..." Gwen's rattling off designers. She was pausing to think when that question came out.

Ivory: /Are you two like that?/

Bump. Gwen takes a small step back as if the question had taken a swing at her, and she ends up bumping into the front of the tray Peter's holding. Not hard enough to do anything comedic, unfortunately. There was enough of that going on already. No, it's just a subtle shift from 'confident Gwen' to 'awkward Gwen.'

"Oh! Us? No. We're just..."

Deadpool: /First of all, dibs./

Gwen turns from Ivory to find that Deadpool had, in fact, claimed Peter. Hopefully relieving her of any further obligation of explaining that they were just friends. Of course, Peter was still holding the tray of food that she'd just paid for. Which meant that if it went all over the floor, it was going to be their food all over the floor instead of the deli's.

And what was all the ruckus over...

She hadn't bothered to look up at the door until just that moment. And for a few seconds, she just froze in place, watching as if she was scanning every detail of their appearance. If she hadn't just been fighting a Rhino and gotten thrown half of a New York City block into the back of an abandoned car a few days ago, the might not be so twitchy about mutants in general. But, the were grenades.

"Uh... Peter?" She didn't care if Deadpool had his arm around him. She was moving around to take the tray back from him while he dealt with the Merc and... whoever those guys were. "I'm going to take this and get a bag so we can take this stuff to go..."

She actually sounded nervous. Maybe not as nervous as any other random doctoral candidate / fashion model might be in a situation where Deadpool was flinging paint everywhere and there were big, intimidating mutants walking in with grenades. But, maybe she was tough! She was the daughter of a police captain, after all.

So, it wasn't a panicked retreat like many of the other patrons. But she was definitely done trying to quietly eat through everything that was going on. She took the tray over to a counter, hastily stuffing the food she'd paid for in a big plastic TO GO bag while doing her best to ignore the newest arrivals. If she didn't focus on them, they wouldn't focus on her, right?!

Shredder has posed:
    Bebop grins a big tusky grin at Deadpool, "Yeah, it's us, in the flesh, Bebop and Rocksteady!" he says. "We do give autographs," he offers. "But only after we eat. See Rock, I told you we was famous." Probably for the several violent attacks they've had throughout the city over the years.

    "Yeah, I guess we are. Look, all these people in here is probably already fans. Hey, you Katz?" he asks the person at the register. "I want five reuben sandwiches. Can you make that?"

Spider-Man has posed:
Wow.

When things go sideways they do so in a big hurry. And in a big way.

If Deadpool dripping blood -- or finger paint as the case might be -- was the first signal to the patrons that it was time to find some other deli to patronize, at least for today, then the appearance of the mutant rhino and warthog is more then enough to rapidly clear out another part of the crowd. It might not completely empty the popular deli, but of those left sitting, almost all of them have forgotten all about their food. In some cases forks are raised, laden with coleslaw or potato salad. Sandwiches might be lifted to mouths that are still open. But not a soul is eating, for fear of missing some part of this most unlikely floor show.

Peter isn't quite so shocked. He certainly has his fair share of experience in dealing with things like this. Well, maybe not quite like this. But close enough. Still, it's definitely a lot to take in.

Which might be the reason why that when Ivory asks her question, Pete just tilts his head quizzically. "Are we like what?" he counters absently, not quite able to pull his eyes from the spectacle before them. He might just be distracted. I mean, who wouldn't be right? Or maybe when he commented the other evening that Gwen was a little out of his league, he wasn't just teasing. Either way, sometimes ignorance is bliss and saves -- or at least temporarily puts off -- another awkward exchange.

Which of course is when Deadpool drapes that arm around him and the tray in Peter's hands is accidentally jostled. Spider-reflexes help with the later, and he does manage not to spill their meal all over the floor -- though it might be a good thing that probably no one's eyes are on him in that moment as he definitely makes an improbably catch or two to keep everything from spilling.

It does not, however, help him from keeping more paint dripping onto his shirt. It's a good thing that he spends so much time laundering his Spider suit. He's gotten awfully good at getting out tough stains. He should probably consider marketting his own brand of detergent. It might help with his cash flow problems.

While Gwen might think that Deadpool has laid claim to him, Peter is pretty sure that he only has eyes for the two new arrivals. Which is probably good for everyone involved. Except maybe Bebop and Rocksteady, but they likely deserve any relationship nightmares about to come their way. "Have at 'em buddy," Pete says. "I see them too."

Handing that tray off to Gwen, he tries to catch her eye -- no easy feat under the circumstances -- and gives his backpack a little heft, maybe trying to bring attention to it too. "That... seems like a really good plan. I'm just going to run to the washroom quick," he says.

He's not abandonning her, really. Hopefully she'll realize that he's not just chasing after Felicia either. But right now, being prepared to suit up seems like an awfully good idea.

Just in case.

Ivory has posed:
Deadpool? Clearly a lost cause. But as Gwen takes a little step back, Ivory's ears flick twice and there's a little chuckle. Found a nerve? But there's a nice smile.

"Really? I met Astrid when I had a tiny show. She wasn't really impressed, but hey, it's a start! But really, what you want magical cat ears for? Just because you think you'd be cool with them?"

Peter takes the question much better. "Like you know, together and all. Though if Mister Pool has dibs on you..." There's another chuckle - the two goons outside ignored. Though the head tilts as he is off to the washroom... "ooor that..."

Deadpool has posed:
"I can't be offensive! I'm a mutant! Get WOKE!" is tossed in Gwen's direction from the Mouth of the Merc. It's one of those verbal tosses that has him spinning back towards Rocksteady and Bebop in the next moment so he can continue to look super innocent. Can't be looking too bad in front of two sexy beasts such as these.

Deadpool snatches the wig off and flings it in a random direction before he makes his move.

It takes no time for him to be over between the Rhino and the Warthog, leaning back against the counter and ruining it with finger paint as he poses with the worst seduction save roll in the history of Mutants and Masterminds. This is what happens when you still have some Rob Liefeld in you. The proportions! They are horribull!

"Whatever these Angels of Zootopia want, it's on me." is tossed over his shoulder to whomever's working the register and then he's got a gloved finger up to wherever his mouth should be on his mask. "You two Big Lovable Lugs look like you could use a healthy dose of Deadpoolian Leadership." Deadpool snatches a pair of terribly crayola'd business cards (badly cut notebook paper) with his business name of Deadpool, Inc. and phone number on them. Both get offered to Bebop and Rocksteady. "Whoever you're working for now? I'll pay McDouble. I could use some mighty muscle like you on my side. Tell me..."

Deadpool fights the shudder as he leans in a bit towards the both of them.

"Have you two ever..."

Dramatic Pause #4781339.

"Babysat?"

Shredder has posed:
    Rocksteady finds a wig landing on his horn, and his eyes cross looking at it. He reaches up and plucks it off, glancing down at Deadpool. "Hey, you really Deadpool, then?" he asks. "I like the messes you make, real good stuff. We work for the Foot of course, like lots of folks, but we can take side jobs if you got somethin'. But you gotta pay more than just a McDouble. Those ain't big when you're our size, y'know."

    Bebop, meanwhile, is watching the interaction between Gwen, Peter, and Ivory. "Hey," he comments to Gwen after Peter disappears into the bathroom. "Dat guy? I think he's got some thing with ya." He raises his sunglasses to give Gwen a wink. "Maybe both a'yas."

Ghost Spider has posed:
There was so much going on. Gwen is packing up food into a bag as quickly as she can without drawing /that/ much attention to herself. Ivory's talking about designers. The deli is pretty much otherwise completely cleared out. Bebop and Rocksteady were... ordering food? And Deadpool was being Deadpool. Vigorously.

The ears?

"Oh, they're cute. That's really it. Listen, it's nice outside today. You should get Felicia out of the bathroom and.. find a nice park to eat at..."

She smiles thinly back at Ivory for a moment, but then her eyes are on Peter, who's extricating himself from Deadpool and making his way to the bathroom.

Oh, Gwen wasn't worried about being abandoned. There's clear recognition in her eyes when they meet Peter's and he tugs on his backpack, and whatever awkwardness she felt whenever questions got close to prodding at how she felt about him just wasn't there when it was time for them to work together.

"Uhh.. yeah. I'm going to meet you outside..."

She had the food packed up after another moment. She adjusted her own backpack, grabbed the food, and then she was... working on picking her way around the group of mutants towards the door when, low and behind, one of them addressed her. Because of course they did. She was only one of like a handful of people left in the deli that weren't employees (who were alternatively huddled under the counter calling the police, trying to be polite and offer them food so no one either decapitated or exploded them, or in the back fetching mops to clean up the various bits of Deadpool splattered around).

And of course the thing they had to come at her with was Peter.

"Oh, him?" she asks with a little nervous-sounding laugh. She was still edging around them with her back towards the counter, trying to slip past without incident. "Nah. He's cool.." She smiles. The way you smile at insane people to try to calm them down. "Just uh.. friends. You guys.. enjoy your sandwiches..."

And then she's trying to bee-line for the door, to-go bag in hand.

Deadpool has posed:
Deadpool has completely forgotten about everyone else in the deli in favor of the two biggest hunks he's ever seen in his life. Okay, well, second biggest. Juggernaut exists. A lot. But other than that, definitely the second biggest that he actually cares to remember or think about.

"Fine. A McWhopper then." Deadpool's just over here making up food at this point. "I'll make sure that the both of you are well taken care of. The Heel or whatever'll will have to pry you both from my ample Chun-Li'd thunder thighs..." Deadpool threatens to break this scene rating with some rubbing of his hands down his legs to his thighs. The device on the back of his wrist is activated during this.

"I got your Hadouken right he--"

There's a sudden and twisted flash of green light and by the time that flash finishes, Deadpool's nowhere to be found. Just some lingering teleportation smoke left in his wake. And some final finger paint droplets.

\<span style="color:xterm15"\>Elsewhere...\</span\>

That same green flash of light happens and Deadpool appears out of nowhere. Right on the tracks of the subway. With the C Train headed straight for him.

"... Son of a bit--"

\<span style="color:xterm8"\>[\</span\>\<span style="color:xterm15"\>CENSORED!\</span\>\<span style="color:xterm8"\>]\</span\>

Shredder has posed:
    Rocksteady blinks, his rhino ears twitching and he looks around him. "Wow, that guy, he knows how to make an exit," he laughs. He turns back to the front counter. "Where are my reubens?" he asks with an intimidating manner to the poor fella working frantically on them.

    "And don't forget mine!" Bebop adds. "That was pretty neat, meetin' him like that. He moves up to the counter. "Make sure mine have mustard," he comments.

    "How many did you want?" the young man asks nervously. "Another five?"

    "Of course, you m ean you haven't started them?"

    The man glances at Rocksteady. "I'm working on your friend's order, I'll have it all right up," he says, clearly alarmed.

Ivory has posed:
"Oh, of course cat ears are cute, but they are not like put on and such. It's more than just having cute ears. Like, it's a life."

Then... Things... really go crazy it seems, and while Gwen follows Peter follows Felicia, Ivory sighs and sorts packing up the food she paid for. Transport bags, extra bag for stuff to toss and such. Everything packaged. To make sure that when stuff outside goes down is happening. Because, this is New York.

Ghost Spider has posed:
Ding. Even before Deadpool has vanished in a flash of light, Gwen has disappeared out the door, the only evidence of her departure a light chime from the bell. If anyone glanced out the window, they'd probably see her running in her heeled boots down the sidewalk and rounding a corner out of view. So much for sticking around to wait for Peter outside, huh?

Down the alley, Gwen reaches into her bag, slips her wrist into one of her web-spinners, and in another moment, she's flying up to one of the nearby rooftops where she can hurry and change into the costume she keeps in her backpack.

*Thwip* *Thwip*

Food and backpack are safely secured on the rooftop under some webbing to keep anyone from getting to them (including the stupid birds that liked to pilfer her left-behind, unfinished morsels), and then Gwen's sprinting to the ledge of the building, jumping and webbing herself down.

Not that much time at all had passed before there was another *ding* of the door. And this time, it's Ghost Spider standing in it, hood pulled up over her black-and-white-costumed head, her big white eyes staring at the big, muscle-bound mutants.

"Oh, hey!" she calls, not the meek, nervous sounding voice of the girl that had run out with her bag of to-go food, but the mocking taunt of a spider. "I heard the call go out to the police, but I didn't realize it was you guys! Uhhh.. help me out. One of you is Dumb and the other is Dumber, but I can't ever remember which is which." Her hands go up slightly at her sides in a shrug.

Shredder has posed:
    By the time Gwen has returned in her suit, the sandwiches have been made. Bebop and Rocksteady of course did not pay. They are sitting in a booth that is nearly buckling under their weight. "Look, Bop, it's one a them Spider-kids."

    "I thought they wore red," Bebop answers around a bite of the reuben, sauerkraut falling down his chin.

    "Nah, they gots lots of colors, there's a blue one, and there's like a black one. I guess this is a white one," Rocksteady explains calmly. Neither look intimidated by Gwen.

    "We can beat ya up in a second if yas likes," Bebop says, adjusting in his position a little. "But we're eatin' right now."

    "Yeah," Rocksteady agrees. "Gotta maintain a healthy diet!" He slaps his round belly and laughs. "Besides, we got free sandwiches, can't turn those down!"

Ghost Spider has posed:
"Aw, that's adorable! You guys know your colors! Keep it up, and pretty soon you'll be reading and writing, just like the big kids! About those sandwiches, though... see, I might have let all the mayhem you guys have been causing around town slide." She would not have. "I might even have overlooked the fact that you're wearing explosives in a family establishment." She definitely would not have. "But Katz's is /legendary/, and the only way they stay in business is if everyone pays for their food. Soooo...."

Ghost Spider's hands lift in front of her, she bends her fingers, and a web-line shoots out of each wrist, latching on to the sandwiches and yanking them right out of their hands. They come flying back towards her, and before she really even seems to think it through, she catches one in each hand. The reuben oozes down her forearm.

"Uuuugghhh. Gross. Thousand island dressing and pig slobber. Now I'm going to have to wash my suit. Tell you what. If you can take them back from me, you can have them," she says in what to most people would be an /obvious/ ploy to be able to pick the battleground herself. If she could bait them into following her, she could minimize the collateral damage to Katz's.. and the employees. "I mean, you know, unless you're afraid of a little spider."

She held up the sandwiches, waggling them both in the air. More sauce dripped out of each one, but she was already shifting her weight, ready to bolt out the door and into a deserted alley.

Shredder has posed:
    Yep, taking the sandwiches got their attention. The warthog and rhino pause, almost in disbelief that someone would dare steal THEIR sandwiches.

    "Little girl, you made yourself a BIG mistake," Rocksteady says, getting up to his feet to show off just how much taller he is than Ghost Spider.

    Bebop follows the same maneuver, shoulder to shoulder with Rocksteady. "Gonna squash you like...like a spider!" Very original with his insults, this one.

    Rocksteady holds a hand up. "Not here, Bop, youse right, they good reubens. I dun wanna wreck this place. We'll do it outside."

Ghost Spider has posed:
The size difference between the slender, five-and-half-foot Ghost Spider and the absolutely massive forms of Bebop and Rocksteady was... laughable. Truly. Most anyone watching the encounter would already be crossing themselves and wishing the little black-and-white spider a very pleasant afterlife.

She, however, wasn't backing down. After all, it wasn't that long ago that she'd swung right up in front of Juggernaut and stolen his prized armored car right out from under his big, dome-headed nose. She could tell it wasn't that long ago by how sore she still was from the resulting shockwave counter-attack. It still hurt just to think about it. At least she'd landed in the back seat of a car instead of on like.. a wrought-iron fence.

Still, that little setback aside, she wasn't going to let the likes of these two intimidate her out of a perfectly good taunt-fest. Besides, how hard could they be to outwit? And it didn't even look like they had any backup! Easy catch, right? Just web 'em up and let 'em wait for the police?

Welllll... even if they didn't have any backup, there was still that size difference.

And the fact that she was outnumbered.

Poor Peter and his status as an actively wanted criminal. The last thing he needed was MORE bad publicity by being seen webbing out of Katz's after this little incident. It was better this way.

"Come on, big and ugly." Pause. "No, not you. The other one. I've got a Pilates class in thirty minutes. I missed last week, so I can't really miss this one, you know? I don't want to lose my momentum..."

Speaking of momentum.

"Catch me if you can!"

She backed out of the door, shifted both sandwiches into one hand (which was somehow even more gross), and stretched out her arm. With a *thwip* she was yanked out the doorway, towards the street outside, well on her way to luring them somewhere they wouldn't do a lot of damage.