3969/Lakeside Chats

Lakeside Chats
Date of Scene:	26 February 2018
Location:	Breakstone Lake, Westchester, New York
Synopsis:	An intruder on the grounds has Psylocke arriving to investigate. She finds Deadpool building a canoe. Confusion follows. Someone loses a hand.
Cast of Characters:	Deadpool, Psylocke

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Deadpool has posed:
The rhythmic sound of a saw blade, running along a wooden tree trunk, echo in the blissful serenity that is Breakstone Lake. The sun was just starting to set, casting a soft glow over one of what the locals refer to as mountains, but most neutrals would describe as gently rolling hills. The amber glow, mixing with the blue of the water, was breathtaking.

But what wasn't breathtaking was the sight of our 'hero' for the evening. He wore sturdy red boots, which had black and red leather-like pants tucked into them. Ordinarily, he would be wearing a matching top, but today, he was shirtless. He still had his little red gloves, and of course, his mask, but from the neck to the wrists and waist, he was bare.

The man was in terrific shape, with rippling, sweaty muscles, and scabs galore. He had to have some kind of skin condition, because it was frankly, gross. But underneath whatever that was, the man was ripped. It was just hard to see that through the puss, the rashes, all the problems that came from having an advanced stage of cancer, whilst simultaneously having a healing factor. It kept him alive, it just wasn't pretty.

But really, would you expect him to wear his shirt when working his muscles as he fashioned a canoe. What was he going to do with that canoe? Why did he need a canoe? Was the thing even going to be buoyant? So many questions, and so few answers. But at least he wasn't shooting or slashing anyone, for the moment.

Psylocke has posed:
Did someone mention slashing?

When the perimeter alarms went off about an intruder on the property, Betsy was the one to volunteer for recon. She could be there quickly and she could report back telepathically. They had tried to identify the interloper using psionics only to find such a jumble of images and information, it was impossible to piece together who they were and their intentions. Thus, time to go in person.

In the shadows of the trees, a dark silhouette steps out and quickly becomes flesh. Psylocke is dressed in her costume, the bodysuit covering hor torso, whilst wrappsing were around her arms. Tall boots and more material wrapped at thigh level completely the look. It was one that got much attention for the wrong reasons.

She watched the man a moment, recognizing the partial costume he was wearing. Deadpool. He had a tendency to show up at the oddest times doing the oddest things. Cutting down a tree near their lake probably wasn't high on the weirdness scale for him.

Walking forward, she calls out softly. "Is there a reason you are cutting down a tree on private property without permission?" Okay, no one ever said she was going to be subtle.

Deadpool has posed:
Deadpool looked up from his work on the canoe, there were a pile of tools nearby, and curiously, no obvious signs of the tree trunk having been cut down. So, did he cut it down deep in the forest and drag it out here? No, there were no tracks. It was just there, much like him, without reason or explanation.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, or more accurately, wiping the top of his mask as if there were sweat on the top of it, with his bare arm no less, he looked up at her, and his eyes, that mask was so expressive, his eyes seemed to widen. "Woah... no! I have a girlfriend, and she'd hurt me. But woah."

"Don't you just love the feel of a good leotard in the evening? I know I'd like to." And then it dawns on him, private property. "Private property? Oh, so that's what that sign was about." He reached for where he'd set the sign face, with the 'private property' portion facing up to the sky. It was next to a small cooking area, where he had a small fire going. On the sign, there was bread with cheese on it. "Hungry?" He asked, as he was using it to cook cheese on toast.

Psylocke has posed:
"Yes, generally that is what the signs that say 'private property' are for. To identify places you shouldnt enter without the permission of the owners." Betsy's words are a bit more clipped than normal, a signo her annoyance at the man. His commentary on her costume and the ever so smooth comment about feeling a leoatard was not missed. She simply ignores it. It's better that way. After all, she's used to the reactions to her choise of attire. Her reasons are ease of movement but no one ever seems to get that.

"And we can add vandalism to the trespassing offense," she murmurs as she shakes her head, crossing her arms. Her body language adds to the image of him not being welcome here. So she adds the verbal portion to go with it. "I am going to suggest you take your things and leave the property now." She doesn't threaten to call the authorities. That's sort of implied with the statement. Of course, she's never dealt with Deadpool personally before so she might not realize saying things clearly is the better tactic.

Deadpool has posed:
"You know, they say you learn something new every day, but I've never really found that to be true. I guess that makes today the exception that proves the rule." When she doesn't seem to respond to his offer of cheese on toast, he sets his saw down on the grass, next to his still-in-progress canoe, "oh well, more for me then!" And he takes a few steps, pulling his mask up to his nose, revealing that the crusty skin condition has spread to his face too.

He reaches for a slice of toast, picked it up. It smelt good. There was a Red Leicester cheese wrapper somewhere on the ground. He really ought to pick that up when he leaves. Even through his gloves, the cheese on toast is hot, and he seems to juggle it, "hot, hot, hot" before finally smacking himself in the face with it, and he screams out loud in a blood curdling scream. That cheese was super hot and it landed on his face. The toast fell on the ground, making a bit of a mess, and leaving the cheese melted to his face. Surprisingly, he already seemed okay with it and slurped up the cheese, "mm, mmm, gooey goodness."

Then looking her up and down once more, he asks, "But if I left, I wouldn't get to spend more time with you. And you're my all time favourite X-Man!"

Psylocke has posed:
Watching the juggling act and wondering if she is going to have to be less subtle, Psylocke actually winced as the cheesy toast stuck to his face. That had to ...was he licking it off? She blinked in horrified fascination. It was like a train wreck, something that couldn't be looked away from.

Until he opened his mouth again. And every emergency sense in her body went off. She dropped her arms to her sides, seemingly in a relaxed position but in truth it got her hands freed up for use. Her left foot she moved just a tad to the side and forward, putting her weight on her it and off the back one so she could bring it up if she needed to.

The fact that he knew she was an X-Man and was on the property where they hid from the public? Things just went from relaxed to dangerous. "I don't know what you're talking about." She sounded like it was the truth too.

Deadpool has posed:
"Talking about what?" He said, sounding perfectly oblivious, as if he had forgotten what he just said. There was his costume top, knives, swords, guns, his usual gear, strewn about nearby. There were the tools he'd been using on the canoe to be.

Then looking at her body language, he used the opportunity to ogle her. Oh, was going to be in for a world of pain tonight if his girlfriend found out about this. But he was very much looking, not touching, and that was okay, right?

But in looking at her body language, he saw she had shifted into a more attack minded posture, "what? You look like you want to hurt me. Normally, I'd be down for that, but and I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm taken Lady... hey, how come you were called Lady Mandarin if you're in a Japanese body? Shouldn't it have been Lady Ryukyuan, or was that too much of a Street Fighter vibe? And I thought my origin was messed up!"

Psylocke has posed:
Her right hand ignites into a blaze of violet energy. A moment later, it expands into the shape of a katana which she holds easily in her right hand. Her eyes narrow as she takes a step forward. Still she is relaxed but there is no doubt of her anger. It simply doesn't show in the lines of her body. That is at ease, ready for movement because she is about to take off his head if she has the opportunity.

"I know you are called Deadpool but I don't know why you have come here. My history is my own, not for someone like you to prattle on about. Leave this property now or I will remove you myself." She could just open the shaodws, drop him through the dark dimension on the other side, then have him come out somewhere else in the world. She could do this the easy way and just remove him.

Of course, to do that she doesn't get to let out her annoyance. Besides, she prefers to actually fight, get that adrenaline flow. So she is opting for the more fun route, in her mind.

Deadpool has posed:
Deadpool is almost giddy in response to the ignition of the violet energy. He seems to jump up slightly, putting his hands together in excitement, "ooh, neat, you're not just a cunning conversationalist and incredible eye candy, but have a special effects budget too!" Watching the energy expand into a katana, "damn, I think yours is bigger than mine."

Reaching for his own katana, he doesn't really hold it in an attack posture. No, he's far more casual, not even aiming the darned thing at her. He reaches for the tip, holding the hilt in one hand, and touching the tip with his other, then with his free hand he makes an ninety degree clockwise rotated 'L' shape, and squints his eyes through the mask, trying to gauge the size of her katana, "yeah, yours is definitely bigger. But I've been told it's not the size the counts, but how you use it!" He said that with confidence, and in a far less confident tone, he adds, "or she was blowing hot air up my skirt."

Psylocke has posed:
That's it. The fact that is making innuendos when she is already upset that he knows who she is. Not just who she is. He knows details that no one outside of the X-Men are aware of. The Hand being the only others. Which means he is either a Hand member or something worse.
    No more talking. No more games or chatting. Psylocke takes two steps forward, bringing the psi-katana around to slash at him although she is certainly he will blcok the movement since he has his own weapon hand. Even if he is holding it in a way that might make someone think he has no idea what he's doing.

She somehow thinks he will.

Deadpool has posed:
That would be the smart move. To block or deflect a strike. But Deadpool was distracted. Just as Betsy was stepping forward, shitty techno music began to play from Wade's hip. A girl band sang out, "A man like Putin may seem like he's strong, but if you think that, know that you're wrong." The slice goes through his arm, he cries out, "mother hugger", cutting him off about halfway through the forearm. The gloved hand is still clutching the katana as it falls to the ground. The song continues to play, "A man like Putin sure has good luck, because journalists die, and he's rich as...," and at that point Deadpool has reached into his pocket, and answered the call.

"No, I'm not busy," he says as he takes a few steps away from the befuddled ninja. Most people actually try and defend themselves when they're been attacked. Deadpool says, "sure, yeah, okay, no problem." And with that, he put the phone away and reaches for his other katana, the one not still clutched by the cut off limb. He's bleeding pretty badly, but doesn't seem too fazed by it. In fact, already the blood loss has slowed. It's like the forearm is sealing itself. "Nice finally meeting you Bets, but I gotta go. Sorry to make a mess and run," and hooks the katana under his arm, actually cutting it a bit, but not enough to slice through, and he uses his one good hand to twist a few dials on his belt, only to disappear in a flash of light.

Psylocke has posed:
What the f...

He just stood there. And got his hand cut off. Then answered his phone!

Psylocke is beyond befuddled. She's flabbergasted. Blumoxed. For that reason, she doesn't attack again. She stares at him for while he answers the phone and has his conversation. Not Busy. He just had his /hand/ cut off. Then he is parting ways like this was a social visit and he hadn't just lost a limb.

As he disappears, she stares at the mess he has left behind. Which includes his hand. "I have no idea what just bloody happened."