7833/TAKE ME HOME

TAKE ME HOME
Date of Scene:	11 June 2019
Location:	Second Floor - Avengers Mansion
Synopsis:	Deadpool 'attacks' Steve in the hallway, ends up stabbed with toothbrush and firm words.
Cast of Characters:	Deadpool, Captain America

---

Deadpool has posed:
One of the doors in the West wing opens, a door that normally leads to a room very much not in use. Wandering out, in an open, oversized robe that definitely isn't his, a Batman t-shirt, and some Garfield jammies pants worn OVER his Deadpool outfit, comes a particularly familiar sight. Not familiar lately, really: Wade has given the mansion something of a reprieve from his presence, recently.

But now he's back, it appears, to haunt away. At least he's not INSIDE Steve's room. Yet.

He's wearing his Deadpool mask, though it's scrunched up to allow him to be brushing his teeth while wandering into the hallway, the 'Frozen' characters visible on the handle of the toothbrush as he puts both hands into the pockets of the robe, pausing and hunting around in them. "Nerp, Nerp, norp," Wade says around the toothbrush.

Captain America has posed:
Full of Chinese food and with a moderate amount of the Asgardian mead still coursing through his veins in sweet buzz, Steve ascends the stairs to the second floor. His travels take him towards his room and as he comes around the corner to the stretch of hallway hosting his own bedroom, he's in deep musings at his toes in their slip-on boat shoes. Jeans and a vintage-red t-shirt sporting the Avengers logo in white complete the outfit.

Movement, however, brings him to look up and come to a slow halt. Thumbs remain hooked on the pockets of his pants as the Captain gives Wade a disbelieving look.

"...Wade?" Oh god, the mead's really slowing things down. He rubs at his own temple for a second. "Wade, what're you doing here?"

Deadpool has posed:
Wade pulls the toothbrush out with one fist and charges. There's absolutely zero warning, and happens entirely during the time that Steve lifted his hands to rub his temple. Wade's fast. He charged to the left, used part of one of the doors to spin upwards, catching some of the frame around the door next to it, and is airborne, robe flying like a grand royal purple cape!

The immediate assault seeks a very sudden pouncing headlock from the highly skilled ninja-weirdo out of, of course, nowhere. "Cuuuuuuddles!" Wade answers, in a tone entirely opposite of all of the physical attack that was just launched.

Captain America has posed:
The whites of Steve's eyes flashing are probably priceless.

Then it's a scuffled scrum in the middle of the hallway with the Captain grunting out some very rude things in his birth-tongue about the Mercenary -- thank god no Asgardian is around to tsk at him this time! -- as he struggles to figure out how to divest himself of the clinger-on. This is what it must mean to have someone come at you like a spider-monkey.

"Wade, get -- DAMMIT -- " Reaching around, Steve finally gets hold of the Merc's nape of neck and a good grip of his shirt and alley-oop!

He flings Deadpool right into the hallway's wall with a resounding THUD of impact. Steve stumbles back to the opposite side of the corridor as he pulls his t-shirt back into place, no longer baring those famed abdominals and half of his left pectoral.

"WADE! The HELL?!" Steve has to lean against the opposite wall as he finds his knees again and rights his mead-sloshed brain.

Deadpool has posed:
Wade slammed into the wall, flipped over to land on his head. He bends, flexing his body to put his feet flush on the wall, and kicks down and out, dropping his hands into a handspring at the same time. Steve doesn't want a standard headlock, well, Wade's legs are also available for that, and it's a lot less dignified.

"Brushing my teeth; cleanliness is super importannnnnt," singsongs the mercenary, attempting to curl and then *bap* Steve just *so* on the nosey with the handle of the toothbrush.

"Wow, you smell like Logan after I've broken a few beers over his head. That's not a compliment, though. Let's get you into the shower, babe," Deadpool prattles in rapidfire, while still attempting to subdue his quarry.

For cuddles. Or something.

Captain America has posed:
How does this guy //move?!//

One minute, Steve's still fussing at the hem of his shirt and then next, he's wearing Wade like the Merc is the next variant on Flava-Flav's blingity-bling -- save for this blingity-bling is full of unpredictable sass and nose-boops with toothbrushes.

The Captain immediately gets to something just shy of flailing, interspersing his words with grunts of effort to make solid contact with his cuddler-attacker. "I don't -- need -- a shower!" Wade's subjected to a stiff-arm to the face with one palm while the other tries to reach back and pinch at the back of a knee to make the leg drop and, in theory, let go of his neck. Bummer having those broad shoulders, man.

"What do -- what do you want, Wade?!"

Deadpool has posed:
Worse, bummer on the healing factor weirdo that can hyperextend his leg. When pressed, he pulls the leg straight up and then jams the heel back in and down again, in a terrible idea that will hurt the leg more than the person he's throttling. But that's not the point. It's that he /probably/ will cause some impact to his target, and his leg's sort of whatever. Bruises and dislocation heal before he has time to think about that it's an issue, anyway.

"You do. And I'm the one to give it to you. Don't struggle. I'll be gentle. I have a loofa," Wade assures. "And soap. Scottish spring. It'll scrub the grime, dirt, alcohol, and the sins right off o' ya; with added broken glass to really get into those pores." He flips the toothbrush into his fist like a knife, but then uses the knuckles straight: going in for an actual punch strike at the throat, as he senses this target actually needs some force applied, not just the USUAL pressure of muscular thigh to neck.

"Or do I gotta shank-shank?" Wade asks, with the toothbrush handle flipped back around. Bap bap.

Captain America has posed:
Thank god Steve can see the punch coming, especially with the beacon of the toothbrush's reset in Wade's hand. The punch collides with his palm, redirected from failed leg-pinch to now shield against his windpipe sustaining acute impact trauma.

"I AM NOT SHOWERING WITH -- "

Noseboop with toothbrush redux.

"I //SWEAR TO GOD//, Wade, you hit me with that toothbrush //ONE MORE TIME// and you can shove it -- "

Uh oh, there goes Steve's balance as he tries to turn in place and slam Wade sideways into the corridor wall again. A decorative table complete with vase and freshly-cut flowers is a victim. Ker-SMASH. Water and petals splash everywhere while the vase doesn't break -- small favors indeed.

Deadpool has posed:
Abruptly Wade releases with his legs as he lands in a tumble with Steve after the table and flowers find the wall, the water flung against it and dripping down in a slosh over the broken end-table. The robe Wade is wearing was tangled up around Steve's feet no doubt, as it hung off of Wade in a puddle of cloth, and didn't make things any better.

Wade rotated into a quicker situp, and throws his hands past Steve's head, attempting to protect Steve's poor head from slamming into the wall -- no, floor; the tumble is disorienting.

"FUCK," Wade says very loudly into Steve's face as his left hand gets smashed into the wall -- no, floor; the tumble is disorienting, to blunt the impact of precious Steve-noggin. He drops the toothbrush, and tries to tug his smashed hand out from under Steve's head. While half-straddle, half-squatting on the other male. It's non-sexual.

Or is it? It wouldn't be appropriate to walk in on it right now, probably. "I think I dropped my teefbrush," Wade laments.

Captain America has posed:
The landing is still enough to jounce some air from Steve's lungs and his eyes briefly cross as skull is saved from impact to the floor by fingers instead. A hard blink or two and then there's a palm-to-the-face once more for Wade as the Captain begins squirming out from underneath him.

"Not helping anymore, Wade! NOT HELPING!" he grits out as he tries to extricate himself without kicking out Wade's balance at his feet.

Feeling the squish of wet carpeting beneath his elbow, he looks away for a second at the crushed blossoms and groans in frustration.

Deadpool has posed:
"Ihh fouuunhd ith," Wade's muffled voice says as Steve applies his palm to his face, and pushes him backwards bodily -- again, by the face. Wade pulls the crunched hand free, and then the other one-- which shows that he stabbed himself in the wrist with the toothbrush. There's not tons of blood, since it didn't go in very far due to his leather armor.

Captain America has posed:
Able to crunch upon himself and pull knees to his chest, Steve then keeps his hand on Wade's face as if he were Steve Irwin wrangling a crocodile -- keep your palm on its snoot and it won't lunge at you -- the logic is flawless. He tries to keep it there even as he winces to see the impalement by dental hygiene tool.

"Wade, seriously," he hisses before huffing a sigh. A large jump back from Wade is almost athletic if reminescent to a cat being startled by a cucumber. Despite being somewhat inebriated, Steve clears about a dozen feet via the extension from his semi-crouch. He lands and stumbles a step or two, putting a hand to the wall for balance.

"Get the toothbrush out of your wrist and gimme a DAMN SECOND, Wade, because -- Christ, Wade -- what was this all about?!" He holds up a pointer finger at the Merc: STAY.

Deadpool has posed:
Since Wade doesn't attempt to fight, Steve hurtles away, and Wade nonchalantly brings his other hand to pull the end of the toothbrush out of his wrist with a swift little jerk.

Wade then replaces the other end in his mouth, the bloody sharper end a bright red flare of color. A little bit gets on Wade's lower lip. It improves the condition of the otherwise cancerous lower face.

Wade was going to sit there, until he's told to sit there. The pointing seems to cause the opposite, as Wade bounces up to his feet, throwing both arms out and back to furl his robe in a fancy way as if he were, indeed, Batman, as the oversized shirt worn over his costume suggests. He then dumps the robe, though, after doing a slight stripteasey hip wiggle.

"Fite fite funtime," Wade supplies, as if baffled by the question. "You're not in the mood. Got it. I misread the sit-u-ation," Wade decides. He then hums around the toothbrush, starting to mope, and bends to get the robe, "So gather up your jackets; move it to the exits; I hope you have found a friend.~~"

Captain America has posed:
Steve blinks at him again. The mead is terrible for the frontal lobe function.

"Oh, god, Wade, you mean sparring?" The Captain lets out a quiet sound of rueful understanding, halfway between a scoff and a growl. "Look, we spar downstairs on the mats and not randomly in the hallways of the mansion. You wanna spar, you //ASK ME FIRST.//" Trusting the distance between them, he then stoops to pick up the vase. Its rolling travels brought it to tuck up against the wall nearby to him.

"Or wait. What did you say earlier? Cuddletime?"

Deadpool has posed:
Wade pauses to process the lyrics a little, humming the 'hope you have found a friend' refrain again as he remembers the next bit. "Cloooo-sing time, every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end---" Wade pauses his song to add, "You know, I really do like that phrase. That there's a series of beginnings. Not ends."

Wade then proceeds to pull the toothbrush and use it as a mic, as he turns on his heel, flipping the robe up over his shoulder and back like he's slinging a jacket there like he's in an old movie.

"I KNOW WHO I WANT TO TAKE ME HOOOOOME," Wade sings at TOP VOLUME.

"I KNOW WHO I WANT TO TAKE ME HOOOOOME."

"I KNOW WHO I WANT TO TAKE ME HOOOOOME....."

A point at Steve. "TAKE ME HOOOOME. Platonic cuddles. Don't freak /out/." Wade flips down his mask, though, and turns towards the door to the empty room he'd been in. With all of it is a sense of weird loneliness.

Captain America has posed:
His audience, one bedraggled and vase-holding Captain, stares at him in obvious strained patience for the musicality on display. Oh yeah, this song -- his brain jogs after a second. The volume is enough to make him flinch around the eyes, but clearly this won't be commented upon later by any members of the mansion.

Nobody else is around.

Steve prays to himself that no one else is around.

After Wade enters the empty room, the soldier feels safe enough to gather up the handful of sad and straggling flowers and put them back on the upturned table now. The water and petals can't be helped...and he can already hear the approach of the Roomba-like robot staff, summoned by the sound of unexpected clatter and clangor.

"You could've just //asked// for platonic cuddles, Wade, instead of throwing yourself like some ninja lunatic," Steve grumps as he enters the empty room, rubbing at his shoulder where the Merc's heel slammed earlier.

Deadpool has posed:
"Didn't I? I thought I led with that," Wade asks, surprised, and he does stop singing. He slips the toothbrush into a pocket of his belt after pulling the bottom of the batman shirt up out of the way. "Didn't I? Let me look."

There's a pause, wherein Wade sort of looks around, backtracking his own steps to the door, and taps a few fingers against his masked mouth. "I was pretty sure that was my opening salvo," he confirms, snapping his fingers.

Captain America has posed:
Wade gets at least two arm's length of space to finish out remembering his steps. Steve's got his hands half-shoved in the pockets of his pants again and he's sporting that thin-lipped jaw set of rue still.

"No, Wade, you shouted 'cuddles' at the top of your lungs and then tackled me. If you'd asked //without// the tackling, we wouldn't've scuffled." Regardless, patiently, the Captain stands in place in the middle of the empty room.

Deadpool has posed:
"You describe that as if the scuffle was a negative," Wade says, flippant, and playful. He opens the door to the empty room, and tosses the robe in there. He also pulls off the Batman shirt. It takes a little while, it gets caught up under one arm and also on some of his gear. He finally gets it off, and to show his ire at it, drops it on the ground and then kicks it into the empty room. Which leaves Wade in just his Deadpool costume.

And the Garfield jammies. It's weirdly naked, somehow, despite being entirely covered head to toe. He sets his hands on his hips at either side of the elastic waistband.

"But the surprise would be ruined, if I ask every time, and the scuffles aren't as genuine."

Captain America has posed:
"Wade."

Steve folds his arms and gives the Merc a flat look. "I almost lost my dinner when you tackled me originally and while I //was// enjoying a buzz, the scuffling has about burned it off. And let's be honest..."

Blowing a sigh, the man rubs at the back of his neck and glowers off to one side. "You were a soldier. You've seen action, so did I, and we both risk our lives regularly. I don't like surprises. I'll be more pleasantly surprised the next time you ask without flinging yourself at me."

Deadpool has posed:
"/I/," Wade begins, starting to walk over, and waggle a finger towards Steve in the same manner Steve did earlier. The finger says 'stay'.

"...am not having fun anymore," Wade says abruptly. It's just fact, said in that way. There's a quality to it that doesn't read as entirely honest, as Wade pulls his hand back towards himself, taps that 'wait' finger on his own chest, and then against his own neck.

If something is going on in Wade's jumbled head, it isn't reading on the surface. He turns and walks off into the empty room.

Wade wasn't capable of containing the leaping ... and removed himself, with self-awareness usually more reserved for when he's calm.