15542/All Crime Is To Be Taken Seriously

All Crime Is To Be Taken Seriously
Date of Scene:	28 August 2023
Location:	Flatbush, Brooklyn
Synopsis:	The X-Men respond to a TRAFFIC EMERGENCY caused by a DANGEROUS MUTANT MERCENARY.
Cast of Characters:	Deadpool, Magik, Storm

---

Deadpool has posed:
There's a huge traffic jam that's going on right here in the Flatbush area of this lovely city. The traffic jam is obvious because of the yelling, screaming, horn honking and New Yorkian threats being thrown in a single direction. That direction happens to be...

Deadpool. On his Vespa. Weaving back and forth at an unpredictable and incredibly slow pace just enough to make sure that no vehicles have any room to pass. It'd probably be on purpose if his Hello Kitty Headphones weren't on and likely blasting some deliciously annoying song into his ears at an incredibly loud volume. Deadpool, as usual, is not paying attention to anything that's going on around him because he's focused on the tunes.

Also, could his Vespa be going any slower? Yes. Yes, it could.

Which is why he slows down even more. Also because there's a slower part in the song happening right now so that counts too.

Oh, also also? He's texting. Figures.

Magik has posed:
"You were correct," Illyana says to the women exiting Nic and Rob's Cheese Blobs beside her. "That smell-- offensive though it may be, I should not have judged so hastily--..."

A certain amount of horn-blowing and swearing is expected in the City. It tends to fade into the background, after a while; it'd be stranger, infinitely more upsetting if the street were quiet in the middle of the day.

This, though -- this torrent of abuse focused on one singular, slow-moving spot -- is something else. Something worthy of attention--

-- of letting a bag of freshly purchased cheeses drop into a small, white rip in reality--

-- as she casts her gaze towards Ororo Munroe, silent for an accord-seeking moment before--

"This is not the kind of crime we care about, yes? Shall we be gentle?"

Storm has posed:
Ororo is magnanimous in victory... admittedly, it is difficult to be /too/ smug when having purchased too much cheese to possibly count as being healthy. "Yes, I was skeptical as well when the students brought it to my attention. The idea of a viral tiktok challenge being /good food/ was... difficult to grasp."

Eyes sweep towards the distant and slowly approaching sound of horns and vulgarity, somehow eclipsing the usual background of New York City soundscape. Ororo sighs, lips pressing into a thin line. "Do you think he is the cause of /all/ New York traffic jams? It would explain why no amount of public works seems to impact it."

That thin, serious line shifts, to a thoughtful frown as Ororo crosses her arms, heaving out a slow sigh, "It... /all/ crime is to be taken seriously, Illyana. But also, we are not /crime fighters/, we are protectors of mutant kind... and..." She hums thoughtfully, "It would, perhaps, count as doing good for the reputation of mutants to both help resolve traffic issues... /and/ to stop him from causing more damage /to/ mutant reputation by actively causing traffic issues. I think, perhaps though, I will stop short of lightning. Yes. Gentle."

Deadpool has posed:
The Vespa comes to a complete stop. "Dammit, Cherizetheron. I can't--" Deadpool is holding his phone up and around now that he's made it so that the traffic jam doesn't even get to move. The jam has been jammed with the way he's turned his vespa to the side and just seems to be completely blocking the path as much as possible... but not on purpose. "Oh oh! There it goes! Five Bars!"

Deadpool is now laying across his scooter like one of somebody's French Girls with his hands outstretched so that he can get the signal a bit sharper and stronger. He's definitely working on making sure that he can send this whole long ass text that he's been typing for the longest time.

Whomever's on the other end is going to have to read a whole damn lot. And apparently Deadpool hasn't noticed the Flatbush length line of cars behind him or he just doesn't care.

"Crap! I deleted my whole message!" Deadpool sighs. "Now I have to start completely and utterly over! What a PAIN!"

Okay, that's it. Guns are starting to get cocked from the angry New Yorkers now.

Magik has posed:
"Yes, of course," comes briskly, with a circling hand. "'The kind of crime which looks good to care about'-- you know what I meant."

Illyana keeps her gaze on Ororo a beat longer, a small smile on her lips readily read as something between taunting and teasing to someone who's known the Queen of Hell as long as Ororo has.

"I could drop him elsewhere, but the tension building in the air-- that has to be managed too. Simply disappearing him won't quite cut it--"

And with that, Illyana disappears through the blinding white hole that opens beneath her. A heartbeat later, she drops to the pavement just ahead of the stopped Vespa and paces forward, the faint scent of brimstone clinging to her clothes.

"You," comes with an index finger pressed firmly to his phone screen, pushing down to edge it out of the mercenary's sight and break its spell on him.

"This is illegal, and I care deeply about that."

Storm has posed:
Ororo's eyes narrow at Illyana, like the weather goddess is considering whether or not she is now dealing with /two/ troublesome acquaintances...

But she sighs out softly and rolls her eyes, "No, I suppose it wouldn't, perhaps you could..."

And then Illyana's disappearing through one of those familiar portals, popping out in the middle of the street. She's reading to flinch, grimace, wince... but mostly she gapes.

She was expecting Illyana to step out of her portal and simply kick the Vespa, launching Wade like a lawn dart through the air. Or... well, something more dramatic. This is downright reasonable. Practically friendly.

How is that more terrifying?

Still, there's also the problem of a mob of irate New York drivers, and Ororo sighs, eyes closing opening a moment later with a telltale white glow, as clouds form and swirl above the drivers, lashing down with a sudden torrential downpour. She sighs softly. Hail would have been more dramatic, but 'Mutant menace causes hundreds of thousands in property damage' wouldn't be a very good headline.

Deadpool has posed:
"Hey hey! I just got my bars back! What kinda' bullsnikt is--"

It takes the phone not being in view of his lensed eyes for him to realize that there's actually other people in the world right now. He's got his attention focusing on the fact that there's the sudden arrival of people in front of him. "Hey! You guys are in the middle of the street! What the hell?! Are you trying to piss off all these people back there?" Deadpool points over his shoulder at the angry traffic mob that are arming up.

"Damn. Too late. Look what you did." Deadpool points out one particularly angry old lady. "That one has a shotgun. Pump action. She's gonna' make a serious mess and I kind of love that for her." Deadpool's trying to get his grin on beneath his mask.

When the rain happens, people are starting to get even more upset because they could've been HOME by now but nooooooo! Deadpool.

"For some tacos and a few thousand bucks, I can get rid of 'em all for ya'. I'm running a special on my merc services this week. Promo Code: Cheap."

Magik has posed:
"Or," Illyana flatly counteroffers, "you could put your phone down and drive, normally--"

Now Illyana's eyes flick towards Shotgun Granny, cold and uncompromising. The older woman gets a lingering moment of eye contact paired with a 'stop' motion.

"-- which would surely disperse the jam naturally," she continues, returning her attention to Deadpool.

"Given that you caused it."

Edging towards the Vespa, Illyana leans towards the mouthy Merc. Where moments ago she was engaging in a perfectly clear dialogue intended to resolve the situation peacefully, her next words are for Deadpool alone:

"And if you must create chaos -- if you insist upon it," the Queen of Limbo whispers in a mottled ear, "then I'd be happy to provide you with victims far more worthy than these people, return for your compliance-- and patience."

Storm has posed:
Ororo pinches the bridge of her nose like a long-suffering school teacher dealing with a perennial problem child... even though he's _not even one of her students_ which seems entirely unfair to her.

But she braves the wilderness of a New York City street to stride out and slowly, visibly, lose bit by bit of her patience.

And while there might be one granny packing a pump-action shotgun in the traffic jam, Ororo's packing... well, the kind of stern, no-nonsense stare she can level at school children destined to be able to shoot lasers or throw buses or whatever else.

It's unspoken, Ororo's message to the granny. Retrieving that shotgun and brandishing it in her general direction will result in unspeakable response that will have this woman explaining an outlandish story to the ambulance technicians about how she FELL on that shotgun and it became lodged somewhere quite personal.

Which is just a fraction of the glare Deadpool gets. "Wade. Pull over to text. Stop blocking traffic."

Her gaze shifts to Illyana, a little softer. "I really thought you were just going to open a portal under him and drop him in the river."

It's impossible to tell by tone of voice if that's a reprimand for /not/ doing it, or praise for resisting the urge.

Deadpool has posed:
Deadpool blinks. It would be viewable if he didn't just have some kind of like mask over his face. He actually does manage to look behind himself to see the madness that's going down. Enough of a thing that he actually seems quite confused at the fact that he might be the one that caused all of this traffic trouble in the first place.

"Oh no, that wasn't me. I was Vespa-ing the speed limit. And technically the rule is no texting while driving. I have a scooter. I was scooting." Deadpool waves his phone around a bit to try and prove his point.

Wade holds his hands up though. "Buuuuuut. I know when I'm being racially profiled. You gals see the red and black suit. You think I'm a criminal. A shit stirrer. A bad egg like Spider-Man. But don't let it ever be said that ol' Deadpool doesn't know when he's licked. And between the two of you, I don't think I want to find out what that pain feels like. Soooooooo..."

Wade turns his attention to Illyana. "Cut the check and point me at 'em. I'll get 'em done in a jiffy lube." Hey, if Wade can score a merc gig off this bad vehicle usage, then that's a bonus.

Magik has posed:
"Patience," Illyana softly reiterates. "Leave peaceably and I'll find you in due time."

The sorceress retracts her finger and steps away, backing towards Ororo.

"A peaceful resolution seemed best," she tells the wind-rider with a ghostly wink.

"And moreover:" follows in a lower voice, just for Ororo.

"I may just need him-- the project we spoke of."

Storm has posed:
Ororo nods solemnly to Illyana as the tensions ease... and the nearby monsoon of driving rain is replaced by a gentle summer's breeze, even nicer than /before/ the traffic jam.

Ororo points at Wade, points at her eyes, points back to Wade.

"Yes, well, that's certainly an idea..."

She frowns thoughtfully, voice picking up from that whisper to Illy. "Say, your cheese you dropped through your portal... does your portal go to a fridge? Is not Limbo quite dusty and desert-like? Is it possible roaming demons have consumed your cheese?"

Her gaze drifts back to the storefront they left, "Perhaps it would be wise to purchase more, against some tragedy befalling the first order."

Because the only thing more tragic than losing your fancy cheese is not having bought replacement fancy cheese.

Deadpool has posed:
The lenses on Deadpool's mask manage to squint. How he makes the mask move like that is anybody's guess but at least if it's CGI it's a pretty good job. Either way, Deadpool's focus seems to be on the potential for money. Because money is how he gets to buy things. Like a Pinkie Pie Onesie.

"Alright, you crazy bad drivers! You heard the broads! Let's move out!" Deadpool's New York accent could use some work but he's waving the people on as he restarts the Vespa. "See you later, dahlings! Call me!"

And just like that, Deadpool's zooming as much as a scooter can zoom down the street and then up onto the sidewalk so that the cars can FINALLY go past.

All the while, the Sex and the City theme is blasting into his headphones...