6787/Some Nonsense

Some Nonsense
Date of Scene:	07 March 2019
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Dating advice with Deadpool!
Cast of Characters:	Captain America, Deadpool

---

Captain America has posed:
The city itself is falling to rest. Traffic has lessened as have the number of people on the streets themselves. With night falling, the chill increases as per the season, and everyone's happy to be cozy behind sturdy walls. Steve meanders across the open floorplan of the foyer while he peers down at an open catalogue, the pages folded back upon themselves so he can look at a single sheet alone while holding it with one hand. In his other hand, a mug of coffee, mostly done. By the vague direction of his travels, he's headed for the kitchen and probably a warmer for his cup.

"But red seems so cliche..." he mutters to himself down at the magazine. "Pink? Pink and red? White's too...well, could do red and white." It's a floral catalogue.

Deadpool has posed:
"Red hides bloodstains~~" chimes a very particular voice from the kitchen. It doesn't matter what the subject is. That's just TRUE FAX, STEVE.

Deadpool is in the kitchen. Cooking. In the sense that he's made pop-tart sandwiches (what is between the 'bread' halves might not be a question that needs an answer), and is fiddling with a pan on the stove to heat them with. There will be no pop in those tarts, at this rate.

Captain America has posed:
Framed by the kitchen doorway, there's Steve standing paused. He's in plaid sweatpants in various hues of green and a white t-shirt. By his expression, he was not expecting to find Wade in the mansion's kitchen in the least. Finally, closing his mouth that had fallen open visibly, he frowns at the contents of the pan that he can see from where he's paused.

"I don't think that wisdom applies in my instance, Wade." He then gestures towards one of the other countertops with the catalogue. "There's a toaster there, if you want to toast them instead of...flash...toasting them." He sounds vaguely bewildered by the cooking method as he walks into the kitchen now and heads towards the coffee maker. Wade's presence is apparently accepted as one might a stray cat. Feed them and they will linger, affection and all.

Deadpool has posed:
"That's what they're /expecting/," Wade says, complete deadpan serious, with a menace that might be worth turning back around to stare at. That was the tone that would be more proper to have followed with 'and also I killed their children'. It wouldn't have been out of place. The Mercenary uses a spatula to prod at one of the poptarts, making it sizzle more in the butter.

"Like when I'm driving, I always my left turn signal when I turn right. Then they won't know what my plan is."

"What's your instance? I bet I can find a way to make it apply," Wade says, tone evening out into a facsimile of a normal person.

Captain America has posed:
There's a soft snort from the Captain now fussing with the coffee maker. He's got it figured out now, thank god -- no more teasing about being technologically defunct in this instance, at least.

"Remind me to drive if it ever comes to it -- and I'm sure you can," he allows with a flick of his brows at Wade when he glances over at the man and his bubbling poptarts. "But not...not in this particular instance. Bloody roses?" Steve pulls his mouth to one side in disbelief at the Merc, clearly anticipating the man having some trouble in coming up with an excuse to deliver blood-soaked roses to someone. The sound of coffee pouring into his mug can be heard where it's been tucked under the machine's spiggot.

Deadpool has posed:
"Sure. Is it a threat? That's brilliant," Wade says, his voice entirely even and supportive. He'd been facing Steve; he turns away now to fiddle with his poptarts, to flip them. There are three big punctures in Wolverine-pattern in his costume just above where the swords are positioned on his back. It's clean, though, not bloody at all. The suit was probably washed since that incident.

"I'll pretend to be surprised when you give them to me," says Wade, and then turns his head. Stares for a beat.

"I'm winking," he supplies, helpfully. "Mind making two cups?" he asks. "I can make some for you here, too, if you're hungry."

Captain America has posed:
Leaning against the counter, Steve can't help the soft laugh that he turns into a cough midway through. He hides most of it in his fist before he half-smiles at Wade.

"I can make you another cup, yeah." Turning in place, he finagles open the cupboard door nearby and fishes out another mug. The full is swapped for the empty and another series of soft sounds is heard as he sets the coffee maker up again to dispense more.

"It's not a threat, the roses. It's a gesture of kindess." Nails scratch at his nape in passing. "And affection," the Captain adds more wryly, as if he can't kid himself. "For a...lady-friend of mine." Turning away to grab up his coffee, he keeps his face averted as if that would hide the coloring of his ears.

Deadpool has posed:
Deadpool turns slooooowly, as if he were turning around to face a horror movie villain directly behind him. AKA Steve. He then brings up both hands to his cheeks, mouth opening in a grin. It's very 'home alone' except excitement.

"Ahhh! A girl! Who is it? I need to make sure she's right for us," Wade points out, sliding over to lean a hip on the counter next to Steve, and then clasps both hands together under his left cheek, leaning his head on them to the side. ROMANCE.

"'Kindness' isn't going to get you laid."

Captain America has posed:
While Wade gets a dubious, pink-cheeked side-eyeing as he slides his way over to stand beside Steve, it's the next comment that garners a more energetic reaction.

A fine spray of coffee leaves his mouth -- and unfortunately in Wade's direction -- to land from eyebrows to clavicle on the man's suit. Steve then gets to coughing hard a few times and thumps his own chest. A slosh of coffee dribbles down the side of the ceramic mug.

"Wuh -- Wade, seriously," he finally manages. Another cough interrupts. "It's not about getting laid! It's about...it's about a whole relationship," the Captain protests.

Deadpool has posed:
"Wow, okay. Captain America doesn't swallow. Got it," Deadpool says thoughtfully, as he takes the brunt of the coffee. He reaches back to snare a towel off of the sink, and towels off his face.

"It can be both. Does she do threesomes? I mean. For reasons." Wade attempts to pat Steve a few times on the back, since there's such breathing trouble. "I feel like I should wait to talk until your mouth isn't full, but I really don't' think I can remember," says the merc, apologetic. "And sometimes that's when I have the MOST comments." Wade giggles to himself.

"Okay. But seriously, it's both. But you need to romance her first. Sure. Is she into you already? I mean, look at you, of course she is-but where are we? Give me the gist. Where has your tongue been?" he asks, serious, like a detective, two fingers held up in a V pattern near his face.

Captain America has posed:
Thank god no one else is in the mansion because Steve hasn't been this red since sometime before the great freezing of his person and it involved two of the ESO tour dancers on a dare. He runs a hand down his face and licks his lips, his mouth moving as if he can't find a proper reply at first. Instead, with his tattered dignity around himself, he takes another proper mouthful of coffee and then looks back at Wade.

"You ask a lot of questions that I wouldn't answer even if my oldest friend wanted to know." However, despite the set of his jaw, the Captain continues. "You get the bare bones of it because even you can have some good advice. Rarely," he's sure to point out with a bit of a squint. "We've only gone out to dinner. And one dance lesson. I'm still romancing. Roses seemed appropriate." By how he lays it all out, it seems extremely logical to him.

Deadpool has posed:
"I'm safe to talk to, because I'm a weirdo that might not remember half of what you tell me, and people wouldn't believe me even if I did relate something that was entirely true," Wade says. He pats one palm on the counter, weirdly quiet, and then lifts his other hand to untuck his mask at the throat, presumably to pull it up far enough to drink coffee, like usual. Instead he pulls it off entirely and tucks it into his belt at the side.

He waggles the area where his eyebrows would be if he had eyebrows, and reaches in to get the other cup of coffee. He gestures for Cap to lean his cup forwards, and if allowed, will give half of it into Steve's mug: since so much of it ended up spat onto Wade's costume. By fault of the mercenary.

"Whoooooo then? Spidey-lady?"

Captain America has posed:
Steve apparently won't say no to the offer of shared coffee and holds out his mug. Wade's got steady hands and there aren't any drips to provide proof of the transfer. A little salute of the cup on the Captain's part as gratitude for the gesture and he then shakes his head.

"Not her, no. She's involved with someone else at this time. It's not important who it is," he's quick to add with an apologetic half-smirk. "Just know bloody roses aren't going to cut it. Oh, right, remembered." He gives Wade more focused attention now. "Any news on the Sentinels from your half of things?"

Deadpool has posed:
"I don't really get much from caffeine, my healing shreds it, except for bouncing off the ceiling for a minute," Wade shares. "You said lady, so that narrows it. It's not the Hulk or something. So. The smol bug lady then?" Wade guesses. He likes guessing games. "Okay, I cheated, I skimmed a backscene so I know, but I wanted to lead around to it so that you'd-you know, it's not important. A GUT FEELING, let's say," Wade chatters in his confusing way.

"Sentinels? Yeah, some mercenaries didn't get their guy. They're following the Sentinels hunting after them. Like, if you have the guy, you're going to get ALL the visitors. You didn't keep him, right?" Wade asks, downing ALL his coffee. "AHHH. Scalding. Best way to drink it," gags the burned merc.

Captain America has posed:
The surprised light in Steve's eyes probably gives the truth away even as Wade guesses correctly. "Backscene...?" the man echoes the bizarre term before dismissing it as more of the usual Merc Nonsense. He continues giving Deadpool a bemused and sympathetic frown, like one might considered a puppy with its head stuck in a jar of its own accord, even after hearing the report from the Merc.

"ALL the visitors?" There must be an echo in here. "We don't have him //here//, if that's what you're wondering." Still, Steve's brows knit in a frown.

Deadpool has posed:
Deadpool isn't minding his food. The things are black by now. It's starting to smell burned in the kitchen.

"Yeah, I don't read scenes very much because I'm lazy, but sometimes there's good information," Deadpool says helpfully, with a deep sigh, as if it were so HARD to explain his insanity sometimes. "Huh? I hope not. I don't want all those sentinels here. They'll eat all the... do Sentinels eat? Maybe they eat oil. But I suspect that's more of a cartoon thing. Even Johnny 5 was alive but did not eat oil..."

"Or metal. Iron Giant ate metal. That's really ridiculous though, and kind of hard to actually do, I'd think. Like it would just cause all these problems. Where does the mass even go? I don't physics but it seems like a lame ability."

Captain America has posed:
By the cant of Steve's head and the squint, he's trying to attempt to make sense of what the Merc is telling him. The pop culture references arc over his head like an in-field pop-fly.

"If you really want to know that answer, you could Google it. Or ask someone with a physics degree," replies he most helpfully. The Sentinels won't come here though, they'll go -- " A sharp word leaves his mouth in Gaelic as he realizes the poptarts are succumbing to aggressive caramelization. His coffee mug is shoved to the counter where backsplash splots onto the surface.

Darting around Wade, he grabs up the frying pan and moves it to a cold burner. A small cough and he waves a hand before his face. "Wade, 'm sorry, but you're not gonna ever cook for me." It's the kind of burnt sugary smell that tacks to the back of one's throat emitted from the crisped poptarts.

Deadpool has posed:
"Oopsie," Wade says, looking at the travesty. He then goes to the box. And puts two more poptarts in the toaster. He pauses. Withdraws them. Removes the wrappers. Puts them back in. And then winks. He did that on purpose, probably. Just to see if Steve would explode. "Just playin' witchu," Wade says, with a poke of fingers at Steve's bicep.

"So the Sentinels are going to your safehouse? Neat. What was the guy, anyway? Science man? Did he build them or something?" Asks Wade, interested. "If we murder him the timeline might fix itself going forward."

Captain America has posed:
Wade does get a good eyeing from the Captain across the kitchen from where he stands by the burnt remnants of butter-soaked poptarts -- and an eyebrow to boot. He makes a soft grunt of disapproval after the poke and returns to his coffee mug.

"Hopefully the Sentinels been given the run-around by our own technology for now. I thought we had somebody working at mixing up their tracking algorithms...or something. The guy didn't build them, no. He's...singular." His frown is aimed over the rim of his coffee mug at the microwave. "No murdering."

Deadpool has posed:
"That's true, this is tech-central. I wasn't really worried for you anyways, you seem to deal okay with crazy visitors."

    Yeahhhhh....

"---I don't think you should do roses," Wade suddenly says. "Do something like this, but better. Make the dinner," says Deadpool, with a nod of his cancer-skinned bare head at the stove and a pan of gloved hand over it. "Set it up. Effort. That's where it's at: it's not like she'll be impressed you can stop at a stoplight and trade money for flowers. Flowers are like, later, as a sex thank-you to show you're still thinking about her," Wade rambles. There is a sense, though, that Wade's really aware of what he's talking about, much as if he were talking about proper gun technique.

"Put time in. If you care about 'er and want her to spend time too. And focus on her in bed for at least the first half hour," Wade continues. And again, the V sign. With tongue. And an elbow and grin. "If you need practice I'm available. But I'd require effort too. I'm fucking /worth/ it."