6245/Maximum effort considerateness.

Maximum effort considerateness.
Date of Scene:	22 January 2019
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Steve and Wade bond over some jogging. Wade behaves -- for the most part.
Cast of Characters:	Captain America, Deadpool

---

Captain America has posed:
Wade had a point. A sticky, guilt-ferret-inducing point. Gnashing and gnashing, those guilt-ferret teeth, all over Steve's 'Nice Guy' conscience, until finally - he couldn't stand it anymore.

Yes. Yes, he'd been trying to brush Wade off, but who could blame him? Wanting to come home to his own room and own privacy after a long day is no crime. However, it was...or might be well-known that the Merc with the Mouth has few friends and, as such, it was also logical that the man would be persistent in attempting to befriend the Captain. As such, the text goes out from an unknown number to that unicorn-bejeweled (bedazzled?) cell phone:

<< TOO COLD OUTSIDE FOR A JOG. SECURITY KNOWS YOU'LL BE ARRIVING. CPT ROGERS >>.

Deadpool has posed:
There isn't much wait, really. The reply comes back quickly. It has two cheerful rainbow emojis at the front, and a few innocent eggplants at the end.

<< What's the dress code? >>

Captain America has posed:
Steve glances down at his phone in the locker room, lips already pursed in expectation of something off-the-wall. A sigh. He throws his t-shirt over his shoulder and types back,

<< FULLY CLOTHED, NO EXCEPTIONS. >>

Deadpool has posed:
<< Okay, so >>

The text begins innocuous enough....

<< Is this the Trisk or the Mansion or somewhere else like the museum, because I just met the security there the other day,>> Wade types cheerfully. He's elsewhere, on a rooftop, looking at his phone and typing away with both thumbs.

<< Also I was asking if I should look like an ordinary joe, but I like that that was the conclusion you came to about what I was asking >>

Captain America has posed:
Those wheat-gold brows knit in a frown and Steve sighs again, silently lamenting the advent and inevitable acceptance of non-face-to-face communication. His fingers work at the touch-screen once more.

<< TRISKELION. ORDINARY JOE IS FINE. SO IS SUIT. SECURITY WILL KNOW WHO YOU ARE. >>

He sets the phone aside in order to pull his t-shirt over his head. Another agent walks down the aisleway to his locker and gives the Captain the silent up-nod of greeting. Steve returns it after a second and then wonders briefly if that was the right thing to do. Ah, up-nods. Hmm.

Deadpool has posed:
Wade isn't instantly fast. He wasn't far from the Triskelion, and he doesn't teleport. So there's some travel time to get there, and then to greet security. He causes more of a search than is necessary by asking some questions about how they scan for explosive materials, so that's an extra few minutes.

But finally, Wade makes it through to the workout area. He is in his usual Deadpool suit, though he didn't bring his blades. He stops, to text, rocking on his toes some.

<< I AM HERE! >>

Captain America has posed:
No text back to Wade immediately. Instead, about a minute or two in which the agents walking around either arriving or leaving from their respective workout areas eye the brightly-colored Merc. Security's not running at full tilt to tackle the guy, so...he must have been allowed in. Eyebrowing abounds.

Steve emerges from the locker room in his usual workout gear and carries a large water bottle hooked over a finger. He's got a white towel tossed about his neck and he raises a hand towards the Merc in greeting. No up-nod. Still not sure about that. "Got my texts, I see."

Deadpool has posed:
"Yep!" chimes Wade right away, strolling over, and then stops next to Steve, doing a few stretches: quad stretches, a few lunges, and so forth. It's not excessive, it's actually appropriate for someone expecting to jog or something similar. He has a duffel-bag over one shoulder, and he sheds it now with a shrug off across his body.

He then leans in, tone quiet. "Is this actually about a job? Usually that's what things like this is about," Wade asks, his tone professional, and entirely lucid.

Captain America has posed:
Having tossed his towel over the nearby stretching bar and shoved his water bottle snug against its base, Steve works at stretching as well. His expression is distant as he lingers in each stance until his guest draws his attention with a fairly logical question.

"Not this time." He's candid about it, at least. "Figured...well, you seem lonely, Wade. Exercise can burn off anxiety and build stamina. No doubt you run into the same problems we do from time to time." 'We' being the proverbial groups he names himself part of, Avengers and SHIELD alike. "I don't mind a jogging buddy now and then."

Deadpool has posed:
Wade stops moving. He just stands there, very still. There's no expression his mask, either. There's just a dead stop. He doesn't really seem to even be looking at Steve, but sort of just to the side of where he is standing. His stance betrays nothing: the merc just stands there, hands loose to his sides, slightly leaned in.

Captain America has posed:
"...unless you want to go elsewhere, because I'm not going to stop you," Steve says slowly, having realized that he got no verbal response from Wade. He glances over and straightens from his stretch. He's not...ready to throw himself out of the way of an impending tackle, but the air of wariness doesn't abate from him. It's quickly becoming one of those weird staring contests. Those white mask-eyes give away very little on Deadpool.

Deadpool has posed:
If Steve was telepathic, he'd get a lot more interesting information. Because Wade's various mental voices just exploded in a very intense argument and discussion about what is going on. Half of it is self-deprecating, the other half arrogant, and the last forty percent (you didn't expect this to add up, did you?) is alarmed anxiety driven screaming.

"I don't have a concussion," is what Wade says aloud to somebody that isn't there, after a lot of internal yellow-box chatter. It's said in a way as if to respond to a comment like 'you're acting like you have a concussion', it's defensively stated. Steve just is lacking most of the rest of that conversation.

"We're actually jogging? Okay!" Wade orients finally. "I brought jogging gear just in case this wasn't actually just me being hired on a job. I can change super fast, like bunny." He just really thought this was business.

Captain America has posed:
Steve blinks at the random comment about head injuries. He makes to reply to it, but instead holds his thought as Wade continues. A slow nod at the Merc follows, his expression guileless in its polite confusion.

"You can go change if you want. Locker room's right over there," and he points in direction of the room. Not that Wade doesn't know where it is, but Steve follows the gesture up with a little shrug.

Deadpool has posed:
"Okay! But if anyone touches my shit I will be upset," Wade says with a very very cheerful tone of voice. He thumbs up to Steve, and jogs over that way to the locker room, already starting to unzip his bag and look around inside it. "You can start, you probably jog for days. I won't feel left out," Wade invites over his shoulder, as he disappears into the locker room.

Captain America has posed:
"I think people know better." Whether or not Steve's comment is heard is uncertain. He watches the man disappear behind the grey-painted door and blows a sigh, running a hand down his face. "It'll be fine. It'll be fine. It's just jogging. There's nothing funny about jogging," he coaches himself sotto-voce.

When Wade next appears, he'll see Steve at the far end of the Olympic-length jogging track loping at a decent pace. He'll be coming around the bend soon enough near to the locker rooms.

Deadpool has posed:
Deadpool re-emerges from the locker room in athletic gear. The pants are a harsh magenta, with white stripes down each leg. On the butt, is "JUICY". The pants leave little to the imagination about how strongly athletic Deadpool actually is: he's heavily muscled. He isn't a Captain America, but he's closer to that than a lean build of a Spidey. He has a black and yellow X-Men t-shirt on his upper body, and some extremely bright white new running shoes. He is wearing his Deadpool hood, of course, which makes for an odd overall look.

Most notably, his arms are bare, and the skin is a horror show of abscesses and ropey destroyed scarring. It looks a good deal like he was skinned alive and then someone tried to sort of mush the skin back on in patches, and it healed like that. Wade heads out to the track, and hangs out, waiting for Steve to come around to him. "Ta-da!"

Captain America has posed:
As Steve rounds that corner, he can see that Deadpool is now dressed as...a colorful eyesore. Despite his penchant for combat boots and bomber jackets and known dislike of fitted fancy suits, even he knows that's a fashion faux-pas. Janet would become apoplectic.

"Looking...good!" he volunteers as he runs by. "I'm still warming up, c'mon." A come-hither wave of his hand and there he goes, still keeping up that brisk lope of his.

Deadpool has posed:
Deadpool's quick when he wants to be, and he bolts into motion to catch up and draw into pace. He cramps a little, but shakes it out as they move. So there's only a stumbling flinch, and then he's fine. The healing factor means he can do a lot of bad choices like that.

"How can I resist a come-hither like that?" Wade teases, pacing the other man, now. "How many laps do you usually do? Also, do you /have/ to, or is it a serum thing?" Wade wonders, chatty, and hardly breathless.

Captain America has posed:
A little eyeroll from Steve at the tease. He doesn't address that. He's determined to keep things civil and friendly, however much effort that may take. His eyes flick over at Wade as they reach the corner. He's not breathing heavily at all and his reply flies back easily.

"Number of laps depends on the day. I do the math in miles. Twenty miles is my standard. Either that or I just run until I'm tired. Haven't done that in a while." They completely round the corner and reach the straightaway again. "I gotta stay in shape. Cardio is good exercise." He's quiet for a few paces. "Didn't used to be able to do this either, so it's something I appreciate because I can."

Deadpool has posed:
"I usually find jogging in circles really deathly boring," Wade explains, tone still cheery. It's not boring yet: there's a hero to talk to. "I get most of my exercise running about rooftops or whatever. Spider-Man workout scheme, pretty good results. Also just a lot of squatting and sparring. There's lots of ninjas around to practice on lately, and I get paid for those," Wade shares. He doesn't have a problem keeping up, since there's no superhero speeds going on.

"Nobody's ever invited me to jog before. Are we bonding?"

Captain America has posed:
"If you wanna call it bonding, I'm not going to stop you." Steve blows a sigh and glances over at Wade. "Alright, we're picking up the pace." Apparently, the Captain's in charge of the speed here. He does increase from a lope to a proper jog now with super-serum exertion.

"You're talking about...parkour. The running around rooftops and along walls and sticking the landings and all that. I've been wondering about that. Seems like it'd be a useful thing to know how to do properly," he muses aloud.

Deadpool has posed:
"Yeah, parkour. The term eluded me. That's mostly my thing. This straight out running like this, ehhh. Rather have a motorcyle to ride, or something," Wade enthuses. He picks up the pace as well. He doesn't seem to focus on the running very much. Distracted sort.

"I figure you have piles of buddy-friends in your hero teams that you bond with," Wade says, making an assumption. "But I am an extra special awesome type, because nothing bothers me, AND I'm also a spiffed-up human. So we have the same origin story."

"Also, I can't seem to die, so. I'm not goin' /anywhere/," Wade says, with a grin that reaches his hood easily. It could be eerie, in a way, but it also has an underbelly of that lonely, sad quality.

Captain America has posed:
Steve tilts his head back and forth at the various thoughts presented to him. His arms move in regular time with the rhythmic fall of his sneakered feet. They're traveling at a brisk pace in direct contrast to any normal 'humies' on the track. To be honest, everyone's decided to quit running as is. When the metahumans show up, it's hard not to feel like a slacker.

"Probably useful, at least, the not-dying part. Means you can always be there for your team-mates. We're not all friends," he allows, glancing briefly at Wade. "Going out for beers isn't common happenstance. Most of us are professional-friends at best. I've got Buck." The Captain assumes that Merc knows who he's referencing. "My work schedule doesn't allow for much socializing anyways," he adds dismissively.

Deadpool has posed:
"I don't have team-mates. I mean. Sort of. Alpha Flight is sort of a thing but my section is not active right now so I've got so much free time to do my other gigs," Deadpool explains. He IS on the Alpha flight roster (well, Beta).

Deadpool keeps up the brisk pace: he's very difficult to tire, especially when he's not thinking about being tired. It's almost as if the vomit from the last time they 'jogged' was mostly in Deadpool's head. It probably was.

"Yeah! Buck, I saw in the museum!" Wade enthuses. "I considered using that image but I thought you wouldn't appreciate it very much and I am trying to be a considerate friend to you," Wade explains, tone abruptly emotional and gentle.

Captain America has posed:
"That is very considerate of you, Wade." His jaw can be seen to clench briefly before Steve forces it to relax. "Understand that if you ever attempt to use his image in anything crooked without forewarning either of us, I will hit you...if he does not." He says this calmly despite the seriousness of the warning. That aside, he then continues in a much more neutral vein.

"You don't have team-mates? Really?" The Captain appears genuinely perplexed. "You talk about Spiderman and you just mentioned Alpha Flight."

Deadpool has posed:
"Spidey is my teammate as much as you are," Wade replies evenly, though his tone still has a hollowed depth to it, as if Wade were near tears. His mask covers that up, though, entirely, and it's only in how he speaks verbally.

"It's okay. I like being a free agent called in to do things," Wade says, as if getting even closer to tears. If it's put on, or real? It's probably real, Wade swings emotionally pretty quickly, and hasn't tended toward faking emotions to Steve.

"Mostly my old 'pals' are 'busy'. I can always count on Logan to stab me, though, even if he's busy." The way it's phrased, it sounds as if stabbing were meaningful to Wade, as if it were a sign of a depth of friendship.

Captain America has posed:
Steve is silent for a portion of the track. It's clear he's processing what he's heard and trying to come to some conclusion.

"Alright, a little faster," he says, voice quiet. It is only a 'little' faster, relatively speaking. Then, after they settle back into a groove, he speaks up again, still at conversational volume. "You could always ask Spiderman to join you for a beer. Or playing pool. Or watching...whatever you watch." 'Ponies', his brain substitutes.

Deadpool has posed:
"Nawwww, I'm gonna capture one of the villains he's after and give it to him with a bow wrapped around it, or something like that," Wade replies without even a moment needed to think about it. "I like to give /considerate/ and meaningful gifts. Then he can't refuse if I tag along on his patrols. It's like jogging, but with more ..." Wade gestures with a wrist upwards to a building and makes a 'thwip' noise.

"Also it's harder for somebody to brush me off when I have something they want. I'm not stupid. Crazy, but not stupid," Wade says, voice rebounding out of sadness... but not quite. The self-deprecation is thick.

"I'm not gonna look like your buddy. I mean. I'm gonna look like me. Who is your /new/ buddy. That's the plan," Wade explains. And then points to his mask, "I left my face on for your comfort, you know."

Deadpool has posed:
"This is like, maximum effort considerateness," Wade adds, despite not having been asked by anyone other than the other voices inside his own head.

Captain America has posed:
Steve snort-laughs despite himself at the last comment and quickly raises a hand. "Sorry, haven't heard it put like that," he explains, forcing his smile to something far more polite than outright amused. He continues, "But you think I haven't seen faces like yours before. I was in war. Not many of us got out without some scars. I'm not going to tell you to keep the mask on, but if it makes you comfortable, keep it on." Besides, the Captain would be stoic enough to withstand that face even if it did bother him.

"You're my new buddy then, huh?" He does sound mildly amused again, but still in a friendly rather than mocking manner. "I'm honored."

Deadpool has posed:
Wade's eyebrow lift probably conveys in body language even if it doesn't go through the mask extremely well. It does a little bit, though: his mask sticks to his face quite a lot, and is expressive. A positive effect of his skin's condition.

"It doesn't make a big fucking difference to ME most of the time. There aren't lots of mirrors around, so I'm not the one that has to look at me," Wade laughs. But, he's been called out a little bit (to his perception, so he hooks a thumb under it and removes the mask fully, stuffing it into the back of the JUICY, partway.

Wade's far easier to read with the mask off, even if he doesn't have eyebrows. He's very emotive, though, which more than makes up for it. "Pheeee. A lot easier to breathe, I'll say that much. Being partially suffocated all the time does inhibit jogging, as it turns out," Wade observes with a huge deep breath.

"Yep, you needed one," Wade declares about the buddy thing, moving sideways to attempt to clap his new friend on the back. He's not weird, he doesn't go for a butt-squeeze or anything. He's tolerable at the moment, possibly due to some self-consciousness. He IS watching to see if Steve will demand the mask come back on. It wouldn't be the first time a friend was honest and requested the mask be replaced.

Because Wade is really hard to look at. He looks like he was tortured. Very tortured. Pretty impossible to forget or ignore.

Captain America has posed:
"Didn't know that I needed one." This, Steve attempts to deadpan back at the Merc. His glance at the man is brief and lingers no longer than necessary, still accompanied by that small, polite smile. The regular metronomic pacing of his jog continues; apparently, the pat on the back didn't jar him much at all.

"Might as well have the mask off while we jog, if it's a breathing issue," he points out as they round the corner by his water bottle and the tossed white gym towel. "No one gets to say a thing otherwise. And Wade, really. Language."

Deadpool has posed:
"It needed emphasis, I stand by the use of language for extreme emphasis," Wade replies, but did draw one hand in with an 'oopsie!' motion to his mouth. To his credit, he really does ignore the stares he's attracting: and hopefully Steve will, as well.

Wade keeps up, since the speed hasn't increased beyond what he can do, though this is still well above a speed he'd pick if he'd been left on his own to choose.

"And sure you did. You were shot by your other buddy, weren't you? I visited from the ceiling. I mean. Pretty sure I did." Wade's memory can sometimes be interesting. "I won't hurt you unless you deserve it. And I expect the same," Wade declares, suddenly attempting a one-armed hug, which will probably mess up the jogging groove.

Captain America has posed:
By the shake of the Captain's head, he still does not approve of the colorful additions to the conversation at hand, but does not pursue it further. He did catch the remorseful lift of finger to lips. It'll do...for now.

The one-armed hug, however, is nearly a disaster. Steve attempts to keep up his pacing and stumbles heavily. At this speed, it would cause road rash on asphault. "Wade, hold -- hold on!" An extended arm at the Merc even as the Captain has to increase his stride to keep from needing to execute a series of sommersaults.

Deadpool has posed:
Wade doesn't seem to have problems with his own balance. Instead, he executes a move that would mesh with Pepe Le Pew, in several little acrobatic bounces, and even a twirl at the end as he pursues. The mercenary can recover from almost anything, particularly when he's the CAUSE of it in the first place.

"Look out, careful, I'll catch you!" Wade announces, attempting to interfere to 'help out.'

Captain America has posed:
"No, wait -- !!!"

In attempting to retain the sanctity of his personal space, Steve shifts his weight too heavily towards Wade. The potential shove misses the man entirely and now that's the blond Captain in a very serious avalanche of mis-steps! By the way he's throwing his weight, he's intending to land on his shoulder and then enact the aforementioned series of tumbles. The man's used to doing this as is -- if untouched, he'll end up fine. Interference might make it another story.

Deadpool has posed:
There was really a fifty-fifty chance that Wade would or wouldn't get entangled.

"I'm waiting. No means no," Wade says from his new position over the tumbling Steve after he comes to a stop. Instead of getting involved, Wade just came along behind him, both hands up in a 'I'm not touching' show of palms. Wade now bends over Steve some to see if he's okay.

"I didn't think you'd react like that. You're really jumpy, huh?" Wade asks, and offers a forearm out to help Steve stand.

Captain America has posed:
Tumble-dee-whump, there goes Steve as he tucks himself into a hedgehog of freedom and sommersaults four times. By the fourth time, it's clear that he's timing his extention of limbs rather than continuing to bump along the jogging track. After the last rotation, he throws out a leg and skids into something more like a low half-lunge before landing back on one hip.

A shake of his head and he blows a sigh, looking up at Wade in honest irritation. "Not so much jumpy as not used to fielding a hug in mid-stride. Normally, those are static things." He gives Wade another eyebrow of mild indignation before he brushes at his shoulder. A little bit of athletic track comes off the grey shirt. Then, he takes the offered forearm and ends up back on his feet. Another huff. "None of that when we're jogging, alright?" He then holds up a hand pre-emptively, those expressive brows lifting again -- not right now either, apparently. "We still have laps to do."

Deadpool has posed:
That blocked hand was exactly needed, because Wade took that was that now is good since they aren't jogging. He ended up stepping directly into the hand, which lands on his mid-chest. It does stop Wade, though, he doesn't push past that limit.

"Sure. Just remind me," Wade agrees, and salutes loosely, nodding. He's not trying to be difficult. At least, not at this time. There are plenty of times where he will deliberately try to be difficult. "If you have to, fall on me. I can take the road rash," Wade laughs, and then bounds off down the track.

"You coming, Captain Summersault?" he calls to his new buddy, heading up towards his own top speed.