7191/A Quicker, Picker-Upper, Bounty! Wait.

A Quicker, Picker-Upper, Bounty! Wait.
Date of Scene:	10 April 2019
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Wade informs Steve of potential new developments in the safety of the Sentinel 'scientist'. At something like 3am in the morning.
Cast of Characters:	Deadpool, Captain America
Tinyplot:	Sentinels

---

Deadpool has posed:
"Psst. Psst. Psst," whispers a voice nearby. And a gentle palm patting at Steve's cheek.

"Stevie? Are you asleep?" asks an oddly serene, gentle male voice.

The place? Steve's room. Steve's bed. The room is dark. The shape of the visitor is a broad back shape outlined against the mild illumination from the clock's lighting.

Captain America has posed:
The snoring burring in the back of Steve's throat comes to a sudden stop. Lying on his side with his arm tucked beneath his pillow and his knee nearly up around his sternum, the man scrunches up his face. Why does it smell like someone holding a tin of Altoids beneath his nose? Rolling his shoulder brings it to brush against someone else's arm and he jerks back and away from the silhouette and its familiar voice.

"What the...who? -- Wade?!" His arm reaches out quickly to the pull lamp and there's the sound of the beaded string rattling until //CLICK// -- the room floods with light. Steve squints at the clock and then at Wade, looking properly disturbed. "Wade, it's too late for this, what?!"

Deadpool has posed:
"Aaaaaah, it burns, it burns!" Wade laments at the light being switched on, lifting his hands put push up his creepy green night vision goggles up off of his face. He removes them entirely and hooks them onto the side of his belt. He's seated cross-legged just there by where Steve's back was relaxed so peacefully. Until now, anyway.

Wade's in his usual red and black mercenary attire. He settles his hands on his knees. "It's never too late," Wade says gently, reassuringly. "I just need a quick thing, and you can go back to dreamland."

Captain America has posed:
Rubbing a hand at his face, Steve sits up on the bed. The covers remain rumpled about his waist. Apparently, he's the kind of guy to sleep with a white tanktop on beneath the sheets, at least by this visual inspection. He continues squinting at Wade before knuckling at one eye in passing.

"Okay, Wade, what's the quick thing?" His voice burrs with sleep before he clears it, hopefully to remove the sloth heard. Another glance at his clock is unhelped.

Deadpool has posed:
Wade doesn't leave him waiting. He seems entirely lucid. Which is scary, in a fashion: Wade with a sharp attention instead of silliness makes his danger level skyrocket. "I'll get right to the point. I'm very well focused tonight. Proud," Wade says, conversational. He focuses. "I've got a five-hundred-thousand dollar bounty on the scientist guy you found that I'd like to make the most of. So I was wondering if you have him? I'd like him. For obvious reasons, if you're not using him for anything anymore."

Wade smiles, positive. Even in the semi-dark bedroom and a mask, somehow the smile reads. It isn't maniac level, but entirely reasonable. Particularly reasonable, considering it's on Wade. "Or maybe you have pieces of him?"

Captain America has posed:
Silence follows the remarkably clear elucidation of precisely WHY the Merc is present. Steve continues squinting at him. His expression doesn't shift a touch, though there is the hint of smoke coming out of his ears. Exasperation? Attempting to figure out why this Why has changed so dramatically since last he was aware of it?

His voice is still rough. "How'd you find out about this bounty, Wade? Who put it up?" If anything, the Captain now looks not only tired, but weary about the corners of his eyes.

Deadpool has posed:
".... you know I'm one of the world's top mercenaries, right?" Wade asks, puzzled by the question. "I have a LOT of connections. I can tell you who it is, but I'm not sure it'd mean anything to you, really," he adds, considering, tapping one finger to his cheek.

"Does that mean you have the scientist?" Wade asks, keenly focused.

Captain America has posed:
"I know you know people, Wade." Admittedly, the Captain sounds like he's grousing over the whole affair now. "Tell me anyways, it might come in handy in the future." Steve then slides legs out from underneath the covers. He apparently went to bed in sweatpants as well, a thin grey cotton pair. Grabbing up the bundling of his thick terry-cloth bathrobe slung lazily over a nearby chair rather than being hung up in his closet, he slips it on and glances back at the Merc.

"Get off my bed, Wade. We'll talk at the table." Slipping on the pair of mocassins tucked nearly beneath the bedframe, he then wanders over to one of the chairs and sits down sleepily on it.

Deadpool has posed:
"I feel overdressed. Or underdressed," Wade says, climbing after Steve over the bed on hands and knees. "I don't have a /robe/."

Wade stops on the edge of the bed, his legs over onto the floor, observant as Steve heads across and sits by the table. He pushes up to his feet and strides over as requested. "It's Black Dragon Clan. Do you know who they are, or do you want me to ramble?"

Captain America has posed:
"I want you to ramble, Wade, please," Steve replies. The words are half-muffled as he rubs at the side of his face again, trying to shake the cobwebs of REM from his brain. A deep sigh and he frowns at the Merc as if doing so would make the information come faster.

However, at one point, he does interrupt to ask, "Look, Wade, are you...wearing peppermint oil or something? It's not me or my clothing, or my bed." He thumbs over his shoulder at it. "It's...really, really minty."

Deadpool has posed:
"Yes. I mouthwashed all up in this shit," Wade proclaims, gesturing at his head and then over his upper torso in general. "Nice of you to notice," he adds, charmed.

And off the rambling goes. "Okay. The Black Dragon Clan is basically a crime cartel of assassins and things. So if you want something dead or kidnapped, maybe you want some crazy weapons, well, yeah. I've had a few of them hunt me off and on in the past: sometimes people hire people to try to kill me -- and I've killed THEM, so we have a working respect that I enjoy now. Anyway, they're probably a middleman, they do a lot of that -- people can hire them so they aren't traced--, but I know their leader likes cybernetics, so it also could be he wants the scientist for that reason."

Captain America has posed:
The spread of the Merc's hand to include the breadth of his chest in the crimson and black suit explains to the intensity of the minty smell. Steve nods slowly by reply, about ready to accept any explanation at all from Wade in regards to personal hygiene at this point.

The news is enough to make him frown thunderously. "JARVIS." His voice calls out into the room. Upon hearing the local AI confirm him, he continues, "Would you please look up the Black Dragon Clan that Mister Wilson just explained? I'd like information confirmed according to available records." And he means 'available' by terms of Tony's pro-hacker tendencies.

Deadpool has posed:
Wade pauses. He probably blinked, but the mask mutes a lot of that. He looks around as if expecting to see JARVIS visually manifest into the room. "It's like you don't believe me, or something," Wade says, hurt.

"....JARVIS, do you guys still have the scientist?" he asks, suddenly, upbeat and slick, giving Steve a shit-eater 'grin' with a hand lifted to press to the side of his cheek and jaw 'innocently'.

Captain America has posed:
"JARVIS, security override: First Avenger. Do not answer that question." Wade receives a very narrow look from the man across the table.

"Until I know more, Wade, 'm not gonna confirm or deny his presence. Patience." Even that's no guarantee from the Captain, who then glances up at the ceiling, as if that's where JARVIS might exist despite the nebulous source of the proper voice itself. He listens to the information granted and nods to himself multiple times. Once JARVIS is done speaking, he then dismisses the AI.

"Thank you, JARVIS. Have a nice evening." Steve's one of the few who treats the AI more like a human than a program.

His eyes flick to Wade. "Alright, your information's confirmed," he informs the Merc, as if the guy wasn't listening all along.

Deadpool has posed:
Wade started to rest his upper body on the table during the conference. He extends to put his elbows first. Then his forearms.

By the end of the information exchange he has draped most of his upper body on the table, including his head on the inside of an upper arm.

Not that it took very long.

Wade waggles his hands some in a 'go ahead' motion, promptingly.

Captain America has posed:
Steve lifts his eyebrows at the gesture in particular. He then yawns good and long before blinking at Wade again. "Wade, you wanna know if we have the guy because of the bounty, right? I can do you one better."

He lets the moment linger for as long as he deems safe -- which is not long at all, really, no more than a second at most -- before he adds, "I'll pay you the cost of the bounty and half more. Myself. Out of my own pockets...if you don't inquire after him further." With that potential trade leveled, he watches the Merc with a sudden upswing in keen interest.

Deadpool has posed:
Wade doesn't move for a few beats. It could really go either way with the crazy mercenary.

"I can't let you do /that/," Wade says kindly, reaching over to try to pat-pat Steve's hand. "At least not without knowing why you're so keen to protect the guy," Wade asks, tilting his head, and slowly sitting up from the table to lean back in his chair.

Captain America has posed:
"Call it the goodness of my heart," quips Steve. He allow one pat before bringing his hand away and into his lap. "That, and unnecessary bloodshed sticks funny in my craw. Really, Wade, 'm happy to pay you at this point. It's no skin off my back to do it."

He shifts in the chair and rubs at his temple again as if attempting to shoo away a headache. "Full bounty and another half," comes the offer again.

Deadpool has posed:
"Okay!" Wade says, ambiable, and thrusts one hand out across the table in a clear expectancy of his hand being shaken. Should it be accepted, it is simply a firm grip, and not clingy.

"I'm not the only one offered the deal. I mean, I'm one of the best, but there's others sniffing around. If you do have the guy I'd move him or change passwords or whatever." Wade shrugs: if he's not hunting the guy, he doesn't really have a strong opinion on it. He's just being nice, at this point.

Captain America has posed:
"It's a deal." Steve shakes the offered hand with his own brand of firm grip, polite and not overly strong. He slumps back in his chair again and smiles, mostly to himself, at Wade's self-assessment as well as suggestion.

"I know you're one of the best, Wade. That's why I'm glad to be talking to you now and not elsewhere where you're not supposed to be. Would hate to come to blows." By his tone, he's quietly honest about this. "Your advice is noted too. Thanks for sharing it."

Deadpool has posed:
"Sure," Wade says, leaning back some more, patting both of his hands on his thighs -- pat, pat, patpatpatPAT--- and then gets to his feet in a little bounce. "/I/ think ol' Black Dragon is just being a middleman. They're absorbing the other 500k off the charge. OR, maybe once they have him, since they know people wanna pay, they'd auction him off. But, well. Hard to know. Better to not ask /those/ questions sometimes. Not my job." Wade then smiles.

"Sleep tight, Steve!" he bids, and then starts to fiddle with a tech object at his belt.

Captain America has posed:
"Thanks, Wade, you too," replies the Captain as he sits there in his chair. His eyes fall to the foreign object at Wade's belt and then flick up to his face again. He's not about to ask after it, not when he wants badly enough to sleep, but there will always be footage from JARVIS to review in the end.

He then interjects, remembering something. "How do you want the money? Check? Bills? What?" Again, more massaging of his own temple.

Deadpool has posed:
"Electronic transfer," Wade chimes immediately. He's diverted by that, and started to search his pockets. He ends up with a HANDFUL of small red thumb drives. He picks one out and drops it neatly onto the table. "Go ahead on that; once I get it, I'll call off the hunt," Wade says, suddenly businesslike, but not unfriendly. He likes his buddy Steve! But business is business?

"Now you can sleep. Unless you want me to tuck you in? I've already done the story, I feel like."

Captain America has posed:
Reaching across the table, Steve takes up the small thumb drive and pockets it into his robe. "Nope, that'll do, Wade. You'll get it all post-haste," he replies with another yawn.

"Good night, Wade...and no, you don't need to tuck me in. 'm capable of doing it myself. Go sleep," and he waves his hand at the Merc in a shooing motion before rising to his feet and shambling over towards his bed. Apparently, he trust the Merc will let himself out.

Deadpool has posed:
"Of course you're capable. It wasn't a suggestion of you being unable to get into bed. I mean, I figure you did it earlier all on your lonesome. It's more that you CAN have the --- I'll see myself out," Wade says, shoo'd. He bounces across to the lamp, though. And stares at Steve for a long moment, hand on the cord.

And pulls it.

And the light goes out.