8050/Roofs are good.

Roofs are good.
Date of Scene:	25 June 2019
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Spidey, Deadpool, and Black Cat share some insanity on a rooftop. (Wade's.)
Cast of Characters:	Spider-Man, Deadpool, Black Cat

---

Spider-Man has posed:
Star Date 72945.4 (That's accurate, I looked it up).

Spider-Man is sitting on the roof of a pizza place/bowling alley combination with an extra large vegi and pepperoni. The bottom portion of his mask is rolled up to reveal his mouth, just enough so that he can take infrequent bites from the gooey slice held in his hand currently while waving down at the late night bowling crowd who have come to the alley for the purpose of engaging in recreational balls and pins action.

"Don't mind me guys. There's been an upswing in bowling alley related hijinx in the area." Circling a finger in the air to indicate, if not the whole block, at least the building upon which he's sitting. "I'm definitely not here for the sole purpose of eating pizza whi-" A pepperoni drops down on the spider symbol on his chest, "Dangit, I just washed this.." So man cellphone pictures. "Don't put that on your social media!" They can see his grin! Kinda because he's on the roof! "I'm kidding, do what you want, Trump isn't president anymore, we're in a free state again."

Deadpool has posed:
The social media is a problem. Because some people, some excited, fanboy like people (That aren't Wade) stalk people like Spider-Man. Wade's just interested in him in a casual way.

It is a casual way that involves spotting Spider-Man's current location above the big sign of the Pizza-Alley, and knowing EXACTLY where that is. He can murder/liberate Mr. Jonston later, after he's gotten some Spidey-time.

Tapping at his image inducer, he fiddles between appearances while ambling along part of a roof. He's not going back to the damn sidewalk, there was some effort into climbing up some fire escapes to get up here. *bip bip bip* goes his image inducer. He settles on something, and then comes to the edge of his tall building.

Peering down, that's quite a fall to get to the top of the bowling alley roof. Hmmmmm. He stands there dynamically there for a minute, posed, in all his image-induced Spidey-clone glory, while deciding if he'll go a more sane way, or just jump. "Roll at the bottom, break fewer bones," he suggests to himself, and gets a running start. It's only important to break fewer bones if Spidey runs, and Wade has to /chase/.

Black Cat has posed:
Sometimes, a lady gets bored. Sometimes, boredom doesn't lead to stealing things. It leads to some good old social media stalking -- and just look who decided to drop pepperoni on himself over at the bowling alley! Felicia simply can't help herself. It'll be like old times, she thinks to herself, as she swings in via her own grappling lines. Her platinum-blonde hair banners behind her loosely as she arrows down towards the bowling alley and --

Holy shit, that's Spidey free-falling from the building nextdoor, what the hell?!

"WHAT THE HELL?!" It surely announces Felicia even as she makes a wild grab at one of the falling Spiderman's ankles. Fingers lock strongly around it and she holds tightly as they continue through the arc of descent.

But wait a second. Spiderman's not...this heavy. Grimacing, the Black Cat's sure to let go of the ankle within easy landing distance of the rooftop --

-- for //Spiderman//.

She then slides down onto the roof itself with barely a hair out of place.

Spider-Man has posed:
Spidey's head perks when he thinks he hears the distinct ayeeeeee of a Wily Coyote fall-yell, "What was that noise?" Right before he's about to take a bite of pizza. He deoposits it into the box beside him and pushes it away with one hand while pulling his mask down into place with the other. A little hop later and he's standing on the edge of the roof that will give him a first rate view of the greatest fall in history: "Oh wow, it's me..."

He says distantly, arms crossed over his chest and one hip jut out to the side. At first he's just a little disappointed that Felicia seems unaware it's him... but then she drops the other him and... it's... "Okay this is spooky." His hands unfold and cup around his mouth, "Alright, all these spider-themed heroes was getting out of hand when it was just my gimmick, but that's my costume! If your webslinger says thwp, I'm contacting my lawyer."

Deadpool has posed:
"That's /my/ foot, I was using it, it is not for the sharing," Wade says to whoever grabbed him, bending with some painful whiplash as he's jerked suddenly in the air. He had been doing a really (okay, barely) heroic leaping thing, and now he's gotten flipped around, and has no ability to fix any of this (insert gesture to all of himself) that is going on.

So it is that he failed to grab at the hand that grabbied his foot, but reacted enough to twist up towards her... and get dropped again. Lacking any help, he lands on the roof.

On his back.

/Hard/. WHAM.

And not a good kind of hard that is enjoyable, but the kind that knocks every bit of air out of him and breaks some bones, from landing on concrete and having swords on his back. Crunch. Lacking air means he lays there on his back, staring upwards, choking to pull some tasty breath back in.

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia straightens from her baseball-like skid across the roof's surface with a delicate grace. She flicks a length of hair behind one shoulder and eyebrows at Peter from across the distance between them. Her domino mask does afford some semblance of anonymity even if it does accent her jade-green eyes.

"Look, I thought it was you, okay, Spidey? Clearly, it's not. He weighs too much." She eyes the imposter-Spidey with a vague interest and meanders a few steps closer, her arms loosely folded across her chest. "Think we should call EMTs?"

Spider-Man has posed:
It's been a while.

Spidey stands, half turned towards Felicia, staring from behind his mask at the platinum blonde. "You look well rested." That's legit the best compliment he can come up with. Maybe he can be forgiven that there's a duplicate him laying on the roof between them.

A duplicate him that's gasping for air like a dying guppy fish.

Pete makes his way over to nudge Dead-Spider. Spider-Pool?

He nudges Spider-Pool with the toes of his boot, "CPR." Motioning down at the other him, "First you nudge the person to see if they're conscious or able to respond to simple questions: Why are you dressed like me?" First part to Felicia, second part to Spider-Pool.

Deadpool has posed:
"Behold, a response, as the fallen Spider recovers from the impact, and prepares to defend itself from those who would mate and chew off his head," Spider-Pool gaspingly announces, pulling both guns off his sides -- guns that made his image inducer go all wonky for a moment when he reached for them, as it tried to deal with covering them-- but not? --and they snapped into appearance. He drags in a deeper breath, gagging, aiming both guns from his position on his back on the roof.

"Is that pizza?" gags Wade, next. He still looks broken, his back has to be a mess, based on the impact.

Black Cat has posed:
"Thanks, Spidey." Felicia tilts her head and shoots the young Avenger a fetching grin, red lips and all, for his compliment. He gets a wink to boot. "Beauty rest does have its merits." The sudden voice issuing from the unsteadily-moving mess of imposter-Spidey has her redirecting her attention. She sidles in hip-rolling steps slowly around towards Peter, keeping a ready distance between herself and Spider-Wade.

"I think you might want to take his guns away, Spidey, he's talking some serious nonsense. I'm not interested in getting shot this evening," she explains airily as she takes up a hip-akilter stance near to where Peter once stood, idly checking the nails of her gloves as if she could inspect her French manicure through them.

Spider-Man has posed:
"Rest." Spidey says the word dreamily as if speaking of some long lost lover what has abandoned him in the arms of another. There may have been a dramatic head swirl, but Spider-Pool whips guns out of nowhere and points them, presumably, at his pizza. "Hey, that cost me twenty five bucks!" It's a bowling alley, everything is inflated.

A pair of weblines fire from his wrists to attach to the barrel of the guns and he yanks, literally dragging the mess of Pool (buhdumtiss) of imposter towards him, "le'go..."

When that doesn't work, a pair of gobs of webbing thwp at Deadpool's wrists to tangle him against the roof. Kneeling down once he's certain it's safeish, "You don't sound like me, so this clearly isn't some Spiderverse cross over event..." Reaching out for the underside of the other him's mask as if he might reveal to the world the person beneath! He stops short though, "Is this okay? Are you an actual hero who's identity I'm about to reveal will compromise you in some way? I feel like you kind of waved your right to secrecy when you pretend to be me without written consent from my agent, but I'm still a FRIENDLY neighborhood spiderman, despite my better instincts."

Head jerky glance up at Felicia, "Want to weigh in here? Where's the morality li- you know what, nevermind, forget I asked.." It's Felicia, he can almost guess her answer.

Deadpool has posed:
"Mine mine mine miiiine," Wade says in rapidfire when he's dragged around by his guns. "Nooooooouuuuuu," complains Wade in a proper high-pitched whiny way. "Will you hang me upside-down next? I hear it's a quality kiss method, if you're going to pull my mask up anyway," Wade chatterboxes. It really doesn't matter what image he's wearing: his voice? It's really specific.

Some people might say it's Pikachu-like, in some circles.

"....This stuff is /really/ sticky," Deadpool observes as he tries to figure out the best way to untangle the problem. He rolls his body upwards, feet coming up towards the issue, but he ends up in a worse position than he was in to begin with. It's embarrassing. A LOT of Spidey-pool ass, now. "You know, I'm not sure what face you'll see when you lift the mask either. Let's discover it together," suggests Wade.

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia allows herself a smile both amused and disturbed, given the wrinkle of her pert nose.

"I kind of want to see what's under that mask now, Spidey. He did a great job of impersonating you until he hit the roof. You tend to have a better sense of athletic prowess," she demures with a purr of appreciation in her tone.

The Spidey-Pool ass on display is given another tilt of her head and eyebrow. "He does work on his glutes, apparently. Tight." Lifting her hand, she mimes pinching at the muscles on display before smirking to herself and sliding her hand away once more beneath her folded arms. The night breeze stirs the fur lining along her suit's vee-cut collar.

Spider-Man has posed:
All Spidey needed was to hear Deadpool to talk more to put the peices together. Their costumes are different color and Peter is notably smaller than Wade, but they're similar enough that once DP starts properly whining and showing his well maintained buttocks (mention of which has Spidey glancing up at Felicia with narrowing mask eyes because he cant' not look at Deadpool's ass now), basically paints a vivid picture.

Pete sighs dramatically from his crouched position, arms dangling on his knees, "No need, I know who it is... Have you met Deadpool?" Half glancing back at Felicia while watching said merc apprehensively. "Why did you jump off a roof looking like me, Deadpool? You realize my costume isn't what makes me defy gravity, right? That's not how it works and I can't believe I have to explain that to you."

Deadpool has posed:
"I'm seriously okay with my mask being lifted. I'm pretty sure I'd look like Topanga, but it's really an unknown to me too. You thwipp'd my hands so I can't do it," gripes Deadpool unhappily. "Not that I'm upset at a thwipping. RELEASE MEEEE," Deadpool says, in a deeper voice. "Also I'll shut the image thingie bip-bipper off. I was gonna do a fun picture for instagram, wherein I had pizza with my /buddy/...."

And then there's questions about his plan. "I'm not an idiot, I understand gravity SO well, it's beat the shit out me super often. I was going to land in a roll with only some minor pain, until someone grabbed me and spun me around to break my /spine/ and right shoulderblade." Deadpool diverts his gaze to Black Cat.

"Feel better'n they look. Promise," he encourages, with a tip of his head from her to Spidey. Go squeeze.

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia slowly shakes her head, her red-red lips pursed as she continues to consider Spidey-Pool and his awkward situation. "Nope. I have no idea who Deadpool is," she replies to Peter before she begins meandering over regardless of the air of rueful caution about the true Spiderman. She pauses beside Peter and continues eyebrowing down at Wade as he explains the logic in his madness (or just madness in his madness, like some Escher staircase of insanity).

"As tempting as it is to pinch anyone's perky little cheeks, Mister Not-Spidey, I'll behave myself. However, since you're more resilient than I originally expected, I //am// going to see who you are under that mask. Call it idle curiosity."

With a careful pinch of her glove's claws, she attempts to peel back the material induced to display as Spiderman's mask hem.

Spider-Man has posed:
There's a moment where Peter considers stopping Felicia, if only for his own sanity, but then he remembers the moment he first saw Wade's face beneath the mask and... as horrible as it is... there's a genuine childlike glee thinking about seeing the Great Unflappable Black Cat flapped by the nightmare that is Deadpool's true vissage.

There's hints that he knows this is going to be bad too:

He cranes his head forward like a little kid looking at christmas presents beneath the tree after Santa has finally left and morning has come. There might even be a distinct giggle, but it could be the sound of some drunks down infront of the bowling alley... There is, just so he can swear that he tried, a hand reached out towards Felicia who is right beside him. The reach is short, he is not actually trying to stop her at all, and the whisper of "no don't do it, you don-...." Something something something trailing off into murmurs.

Deadpool has posed:
Horrible? HOW DARE.

HOW DARE, PETER.

It's a gorgeous face! Dramatic. Lustrous dark hair, somewhat touseled from the mask removal. Manly brows. Et-cetera! It's Keanu Reeves! "Ah! I was joking; you have CALLED my bluff. Tell no one if you want to live," Wade says dramatically, his voice fluxing smoothly as he descends into being in character. Sort of, anyway.

"Now untie me, for I am the One, and I must meet with Bill to go back in time to write my history report about a speeding bus with a bomb." There's a whole lot of crazy in a rather handsome package. "You must remember to be excellent to each other."

Keanu registers Felicia a little more specifically, now. Meaning, he looks into her cleavage when she bends over him. "How you doin'?" Keanu 'Joeys' at her flirtatiously, while drawing in one leg to bend it, the other leg out straight, somehow making his position, even while webbed, into a relaxed, sexy one. Paint him like a french girl, go ahead.

Spider-Man has posed:
"THIS IS BULLSHIT!" Spidey shouts because it cannot wait.

"That's not his real face!"

Deadpool has posed:
"YOU'RE NOT MY REAL DAD," shouts Deadpool immediately, sobbing. SOBBING.

Black Cat has posed:
There is a moment where the Cat glances over at Peter's murmuring, but her curiosity won't be denied. The revelation has her smiling while making a quiet sustained sound of confusion.

"Uhhhhhhhh -- wait, you're the guy from -- " She rises to her feet in a cautious rolling step backwards at his flirtatious alignment of limbs and body. White teeth bite at her bottom lip and she can't help the giggle that escapes her. It is a nice pose when all's --

And then there's yelling. Lots of yelling. Felicia dances back another step, the mask material clutched to her chest, and looks wide-eyed between the two Spidermen-folk.

"...what the hell...?" she whispers to herself, taken aback.

Spider-Man has posed:
Spidey double hand motions at Deadpool, "You show her your real face right this instance!" He demands, far removed from his earlier reverence to secrecy of identities, "I've been haunted by that face for months.. you're literally the reason children have nightmares. You're the reason that children get skin graphs after major burns. You're the reason they have six different medications for nausea." Did you know you can use Haldol as an antiemetic? If a man can't wake he can't puke or something.

"Seriously." Now talking to Felicia, still motioning at Deadpool with an accusatory point, "That is not him. That's Ted Theodore Logan... or more resently John Wick and if you saw his real face you'd understand why nobody wants to kill his puppy." Breathing, "Aside from the fact Puppies are absolutely adorable and you have to be an inhuman monster to even consider harming them even as a contrived plot device, even though they subtly hint that it was never about the puppy, let's be honest with ourselves, the internet doesn't give a crap."

STILL POINTING, MORE ACCUSATION.

"He looks like the inside of a hotpocket spread on a turd."

Deadpool has posed:
"I once," begins Keanu from his spot on the ground, "Had a vest made of puppies. Not dead puppies. Living ones. Nobody wanted to fight me. Because of the puppies." While all of that is entirely honest and true, considering Deadpool's track record with honest and true statements, they might not believe him.

"I ended up selling it for, I think, a hundred K? People will buy weird things. I never underestimate the weirdness of what people will pay for," chatters the mercenary. "But for fuck sake, Spidey -- shit, almost typed your other name, and I don't even know it--- you gotta free my hands for me to shut it off to properly haunt her nightmares. As you free me, you have my permission to straddle my midsection for a good angle."

"...Also, you describe me as I describe myself. I feel like we've had a moment. Except that it was a threesome. Which are often acceptable. I thought you were a hero, though, and it is really not heroic to inflict my visage on the poor girl. Have I corrupted you? I can only hope for yes."

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia's eyes just get wider and wider as she listens to Peter's tirade. The Deadpool mask, having regained its natural state away from the image inducer, has not yet been noticed where it's being wrung to death slowly before her chest. Very rarely has she seen Spiderman raise his voice -- this faker must really be yanking his chain -- and those descriptions are disturbing. She reveals the very tip of her tongue between her lips in nose-wrinkled disgust yet again.

"...you know, if it's that bad, you don't //have// to show me," she offers from where she stands a few feet away, still perturbed and yet unavoidably curious.

Maybe it'll be like looking at roadkill. Not all possums make it across the street anyways.

Spider-Man has posed:
Spidey just stands there staring at Deadpool. It's a long time where the usually verbose webslinger is abysmal quiet and then he sighs dramatically and drops his head. A hand fishes something off his belt and pops the cap as he drags his feet over to where Wade is trying to pull himself free, "Hold still." He grumbles and pours out the contents on the webbing lashing the merc to the rooftop. "It'll desolve in a few seconds."

All the emotion is drained from his voice. No joy, no inherent laughter, no nothing. The empty container is slipped back into a small pouch, Spidey turning to face Felicia with narrow mask eyes, "He's having preformance anxiety." Thumbing back at Poolio. "Just have to take my word for it." Deadpan, ambling towards the edge of the roof where he left his pizza to retrieve the discarded, cooling, slice.

Deadpool has posed:
Keanu holds nicely still for Spidey. Only a little bit of eyelash batting is involved, in the poor, frustrated Spidey's view. Keanu/Wade/whoever is fully healed by now, clearly. He scrapes off the stuff still on his guns, rubbing them on the edge of the concrete near his own blood-smear, like you would try to rub dog mess off of the edge of a shoe. Scrape scrape.

"Yay, freeee," Keanu cheers in a playful, innocent little tone: just joy. He then puts the guns away, while his image inducer warps and struggles to deal with it, and then faces Felicity dramatically.

Keanu just smoulders at her for a minute, as if testing her resolve. "Are you taking his word for it, Miss Cat?" asks Keanu in a husky tone. "Or is it skunk? The black and white makes it unclear to me." He's asking, he really isn't sure, and sounds like he's trying to be tactful.

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia's eyes slide over to Peter and his attained piece of pizza. They linger as if silently asking him for help and then slide back over to Keanu-Pool. She slowly extends the Deadpool mask outwards in one hand where it was kept warmed against her chest. It might smell just a little like her perfume now, unfortunately(?), notes of vanilla and caramel.

"It's Black Cat," she replies uncertainly. "The white's for...wait a second." She's realized that the mask she's holding certainly isn't a Spiderman mask. Her attention flicks back to Wade again and she squints. The mask is offered out more firmly to him now. "Here, if you want it back."

Spider-Man has posed:
"He isn't a Spider-Man imposter, in the same way that Elvis has." Spidey says over his shoulder, rolling his mask up to just above his top lip so he can take a big bite off the side of his slice of pizza. His eyes adjust despite the change where they lay against his face, but it's a little more sluggish now that the neural-mesh isn't properly aleigned.

"I had no idea he could do that though." Pointing with the pizza extended out towards Deadpool. "It looks like it's some kind of image inducer." All of the X-Men basically carry them now. At least the unattractive (figuratively speaking) ones. "Now he'll probably kidnap you after you get hit by a Prius and force you to hangout at his house in Canada. Netflix and chill isn't the same at gunpoint."

Deadpool has posed:
"I do," Keanu agrees, accepting the mask back from Felicia. "Black Kittycat, love it. I'm just glad your weapon isn't spraying me with a reeking scent, we do not need a skunk-girl." He just tucks it into his belt, though, because Peter made such a big deal out of his face. He mischieviously holds up one finger to her, and then slinks his way cheekily over towards Peter.

He gets up nice and close, and then pauses. "Yanno," Keanu says suddenly, "It strikes me how much I /really/ must have bothered you, and I do want us to be friends." Wade pulls the mask from his belt, and pulls it on over his head. He then flips the inducer back off, revealing his full Deadpool attire. He's a parade of black and red leather, weapons, and so forth; heavier built than Spidey, which explains the weight: as does the crazy amount of gear. Swords, guns, knives, grenades, 'other', etc.

Deadpool attempts to climb on down and sit by Spidey. "You really dream about me?" Wade asks. "Nightmare or otherwise?" His voice through his mask suggests he's unsure if he's sad or touched. Maybe both. He also attempts to touch Spidey's leg. "I never held a gun on you at my house, don't be like that. I just held your hair when you puked into my bucket."

Black Cat has posed:
Spidey's warnings about kidnapping and Canadian Netflix are more than enough to stop the Cat from lingering, even despite the cursory finger upheld to insinuate 'one moment' from the not-Keanu.

Peering in mild concern at the conversation now occurring over cold pizza and spandex suits, she grimaces and slowly shakes her head to herself. "I think I just remembered that my stove is on. I'll...see you around, Spidey...?" There's a questioning lilt there, as if she isn't certain that she's flubbed up in turn somehow. "And...nice to meet you...not-Spidey."

With just as much quick and fleeting grace as a feline, she turns on the spot and shoots out a grappling line from the cuff of her glove. Off Felicia goes into the night, probably to cause nothing more than trouble -- or maybe get ice cream, who knows?

Spider-Man has posed:
"Metaphorically speaking." Spidey reaches down slowly to gingerly move DP's hand from his thigh onto his own thigh with the tips of his index finger and thumb. It is released from a few inches so that he can put his own hand where Wade's hand nolonger is. Glancing back then at Felicia's fare-thee-well, hand up in a wave with pizza dangling over his thumb, "We should catch up like the old times. I try to stop some crime, you complicate things by getting me flustered. Memories..." He says dreamily and half watches her swing away on a grapple.

His jaw works from side to side thoughtfully and the remaining few bites of pizza is tossed back into the box so he can lower his mask. "You can have the rest of the pizza. I don't know what kind of dough they're using, but it's terrible once it's cold... just an ef why eye." Patting Deadpool's shoulder, which he uses to push himself up from his seat.

"I would tell you it's okay to swoop in whenever, but it's not okay, and you wouldn't care if I gave you permission or not." Pat pat. Open palm at the crown of Wade's head.

"Keanu Reeves..." Whimsy, shaking his head. "I was hoping for Topanga... or Ryan Reynolds."

Deadpool has posed:
"By-eeeeeeeee," Wade calls to Black Cat as she goes, ephasis on the 'ie'.

"I /care/. I just often forget, or ignore that you might not like it at first because I have such confidence that you're /wrong/, and we'll have a great time," Wade explains; he is fine, it appears, with being patted both on shoulder and then on the head. Comforted, maybe.

"You know you love me. Are you an Avenger yet? I make shit happen, and ask for no repayment other than friendship. That's what friends /do/. You SHOULD call me to help out. Then maybe I wouldn't have to /guess/ about when to show, huh?"

Deadpool chuckles, and accepts the pizza leftovers. "Reynolds? Hey. We can make that happen. If you want to 'do' Ryan Reynolds," Wade jokes towards the clearly departing Spidey. He finger-guns at him playfully.

Spider-Man has posed:
Deadpool makes a good point and Spidey hangs his head backwards like a child prepared to throw a dramatic temper tantrum. "Ugh, you're right... Yes, I'm an Avenger and YES, TECHNICALLY, I guess I have you to thank for that, even if I had to crawl into a cave with a very angry Hulk earlier today //and// brave the mean streets of Baltimore..." Spidey whips around with his hands out wide, "You realize that of all the American Cities, that one is the least redeemable? It's like Satan left a skid mark on the topography of the United States..."

Another groan, flailing his arms in noodle fashion, "Okay, sure, you can hang out or stop in... and if you send me a friend request on my official facebook I'll accept... I'll even toss you a mention on twitter..." Which reminds him, "You know... we should get Captain America Twitter account, right? Or just run one for him. We just randomly put old inspirational quotes or weird messages like he thinks it's text messages."

Random.

Sidey shakes his head, "Nevermind. You're right. Here..." He fishes something out of his pocket and flips it to Wade, "It's a simchip. Put it in a burner phone and you can get intouch with me... or visa versa." His eyes narrow, "I'm calling it the Spider-web."

Deadpool has posed:
"Spider-Web. Yeah. No jokes. None. Otherwise I'd be predictable, and that's against everything I stand for," Deadpool answers, accepting the sim chip. He looks in his pouches, squinting downwards. "All I have for you is a potato chip," complains Wade. He pulls it out. It IS a oblong tan thing. "No, that's an unwrapped condom," Wade says. He pauses, as if considering offering it, but instead puts it back. Maybe he thinks he'll need it.

"Probably don't call me for Hulk problems. I'm more of what you would call an escalator, not a de-escalator," Wade says, turning some, more to face where Spidey is going.

"...But I could bring a puppy vest."

Spider-Man has posed:
There are several moments in life where a decision is made that the person immediately regrets it.

Spidey stares at Deadpool and knows, without a shadow of doubt, this is one of those moments. His chin works to the side like someone pushing their tongue into their cheek and, rather than answering any of the things that were just said, turns sharply and shoots off a pair of webs to swing him away from the rooftop.

It's easier that way. Safer on the brain, what little remains after visiting for prolonged time with Deadpool, and towards saner locales. Maybe Baltimore. There's always Baltimore.