8446/Not exclusively horrible

Not exclusively horrible
Date of Scene:	22 July 2019
Location:	Steve's Room - Avengers Mansion
Synopsis:	Steve is visted by Wade. There's Legos and nudity.
Cast of Characters:	Deadpool, Captain America

---

Deadpool has posed:
On the floor is strewn a strange arrangement of colored things. They aren't quite caltrops but they may as well be, if someone enters barefoot.

They're Legos.

Mostly in blue and red primary colors. It's like a child was allowed to come in with a bucket of them and just meandered through. A few clumps of them are attached together, but mostly they're just loose: and there's no sign of anybody: though there is a glow of light out of the bathroom, and a humming voice...

And a Wade, in relaxed attire of a yellow and black Xavier hoodie, jeans, sneakers.

Captain America has posed:
"What the..."

The quietly-confused voice proceeds Steve into his bedroom as he lifts his foot. Beneath it, the object stepped upon proves to be a Lego piece. Thank god for his sneakers. Having just returned from his morning run around the city's side streets, he blows a sigh and closes the door behind himself.

"Wade, is that you?" It's a wild guess, prompted by the oddity of the room's state as well as the presence of the potential stranger in his bathroom, of all places. If his toothbrush is being used again... Steve keeps half his attention on the cracked bathroom door as he walks over to the closet wherein the washer and dryer machines are stored. Atop the dryer, folded towels. He takes one up and wipes at his temples, the back of his neck, and along his arms. Sweat has darkened his t-shirt in a vee down his front and back; it was a wise decision to wear the loose running shorts in the summer's burgeoning heat.

Deadpool has posed:
"Yep! Howdy, Steverino," Wade greets, tone flippant but warm. At first encounter, Wade seems upbeat but not manic. It could be one of his more even-keeled moods, but it's always hard to tell with the mercurial merc.

"I found a Captain America Lego set!" The proclamation is announced while Wade goes to the sink to wash his hands, and lifts one foot to angle the toe of his sneaker to flush the toilet. The balance is stunningly remarkable, considering he does it while washing his hands. Wade's a bendy acrobat, although he's no Spider-Man. Alas.

Wade looks for a place to dry his hands as he turns around. "I get bored with instructions, though. So."

Captain America has posed:
Having finished drying his skin off, Steve flicks the hand-towel over his shoulder and meanders back over to peer down at the Legos scattered around his bedroom floor. With hands on his hips, he purses his lips thoughtfully and then glances up towards the bathroom.

"Sometimes, you gotta work beyond the rules. Isn't there a line from a pirate movie? Something about 'guidelines, anyways'," he says, attempting to mimic Barbossa's accent from Pirates of the Caribbean. The broad-shouldered man squats down and picks up a clumping of pieces, turning it about to look it over. "The color scheme's accurate enough. What's the finished piece supposed to look like?" He scans the floor around him for what he assumes to be as a small folded piece of paper, as one might find in any kit involving instructions.

Deadpool has posed:
"Keep to the code, yes. The pirate code, leave people behind. And then they violate their own code, so it doesn't really count as a code. Honor among thieves, which just means SOME thieves have honor. Some don't care. Others don't remember. It varies with -" Wade orients on the question, watching Steve look at his work. He then approaches and attempts to dry his hands on the towel Steve is wearing on his neck.

"Like you," Wade says, as if Steve was asking if the Hulk was green.

Captain America has posed:
"Guess that's why they talk about 'guidelines', since folks break the codes whenever they feel like it." The white hand-towel is offered up to Wade after the first few passes of his fingers on it. Steve does this without appearance of much thought, given he's still considering the islands of half-completed ideas in Lego pieces.

"Like me. Huh. I wonder what I'd look like," he says as he sees what appears to be the corner of a piece of paper poking out from the bed. Reaching out in his crouch, he snags it and rises to his feet. Turning it over, he sees the proposed finished product. His wheat-gold eyebrows flick up and glances over at Wade. "Not half-bad. I've seen more interesting depictions."

Deadpool has posed:
Wade wipes his hands, and then sniffs at the towel. He loses interest - maybe not enough Steve sweat - and approaches to hang it back over Steve's neck like he was placing a cloak on an exhausted fighter in a boxing ring. It's almost tender, but certainly kind.

"'Interesting' sounds bad with that tone," Wade chuckles. "We can also make this 'bad', really easily. That's one of my special skills." Making things worse. Or interesting. Or bad.

Wade moves over to look at the paper upside-down, and then squats amid the Legos. He has managed not to step on any, yet be surrounded. He stirs some around.

Captain America has posed:
"Oh, I meant 'interesting' in the vein of artistically," the Captain explains as he looks over the Lego instructions now. "Someone did a variant of one of the old USO posters in a Salvador Dali style. Turned out visually pretty interesting. It's an mind workout to consider how my left shoulder could bend like a Gumby doll."

Steve then walks to the fringes of the spread of Lego pieces and patiently, he begins collecting them up in order to return them to a centralized pile. "I figured I would shower after my run if you want to keep playing around with 'em."

Deadpool has posed:
"Just break it in a few places," Wade says in an upbeat way from the floor. "I've done that to escape confinement before. More than once. There was a time I had to cut it off entirely, and without a sharp object that's a bear," Wade chatters. He seems to notice the pile-creation, and stops stirring them to allow Steve to do some semblance of cleanup.

"I'm not going to offer to wash your back. Don't get excited." Wade rocks on his heels a little, then flexes to stand evenly. "Not that I'd decline being invited. Because I'm not a horrible person. Well. Not exclusively."

Captain America has posed:
The Captain's lips thin at Wade's gory story. "Can't...say that I've ever had to do that," he murmurs mostly to himself as he delivers another handful of Legos along with the instructions to the centralized pile in the room. The roll of one shoulder is sympathetic reaction to the idea as a whole.

"I've got a scrub brush with a handle, so no worries about the middle of my shoulderblades. Thanks though." If he's aware of any implications of the line of thought, he apparently ignores them by his even tone and small smile. "You're not a horrible person, Wade. You're different. Be out in a shake of a lamb's tail. I'll help you build it." With that, Steve disappears into the bathroom.

Deadpool has posed:
"I can be horrible, and sometimes it's on purpose," Wade answers with a sing-songy manner that's proud, and perhaps teasing, in a manner. He does manage not to brag about murder efficiency in front of Steve though, perhaps because he picks up the instructions and flips to the end page, as if that might be better.

When Steve re-emerges, he'll find Wade did play with the Legos. It's not Captain America, but some kind of mutant half-car, half-dinosaur. The ends of the star for the Captain America shield are the t-rex teeth, and the blue lower body looks sort of like a dump truck that was sat on.
de has since moved to the couch and is browsing channels. He also doesn't have his hoodie on anymore, but a My Little Pony t-shirt with some horrific old bloodstains on it.

Captain America has posed:
It is, in fact, about a shake of a lamb's tail before Steve emerges, relatively speaking. Old military habits of a brisk soaping and rinse-off are hard to ignore. He emerges in a pair of sweatpants and clean t-shirt and walks his armful of workout clothing over to his hamper. On the way, he pauses to observe the creation and nods approvingly.

The bloodstains on Wade's t-shirt aren't to be missed, given they clash rather splendidly with the sunshiney color of the My Little Pony motif. A quiet 'hmm' is followed by the polite offer of, "Want to borrow one of my shirts, Wade? They don't have any..." He peters off and instead, gestures at his own chest as if to implicate the stains as his reasoning.

Deadpool has posed:
"Always yes," Wade answers, without even waiting for the reason why about borrowing it. Wade looks down at his shirt, then. He plucks at the front of fluttershy's pony face with two fingers. There's some bullet holes there too. "What? Not a bro-ny? I'm not either. I couldn't tell you more than a few names, which keeps me from being an official card-carrier," explains Wade.

Wade looks at the sculpture of the lump of legos, then Steve. "I think I needed you here as a reference. I didn't quite capture your essence."

Captain America has posed:
"The Lego sculpture doesn't look half-bad." Steve's voice is somewhat muffled due to him rifling around inside his shirt drawer. "Art's in the eye of the beholder -- wait, no, //beauty// is in the eye of the beholder -- that's the quote, but still. It applies to art. Who knows? To some people, I could have huge sharp teeth," he says with a small smirk as he delivers a t-shirt to Wade. It's a fairly simple shirt, drab olive-green with the U.S. Army logo on it, something which wouldn't stand out terribly on the street or call unnecessary attention to the Merc with the Mouth.

"Sorry if it's too big in the shoulders," Steve adds with a little wince. "Kind of...par for the course with my shirts. I've got no Pony shirts for you to borrow 'nd I couldn't tell you any of their names either, so no club card for me."

Deadpool has posed:
Wade promptly lifts and removes the pony shirt off over his head. Wade's torso is hard to look at, even for the seasoned. It reminds that it isn't just his head or his hands, it's ALL of him that is a twisted, horror-flick perversion of melting wax and torn, reformed muscle and distorted skin. Wade's haunting, though there are the rare few that overlook it from sheer will and kindness. Or they're that jaded.

"I stick mostly to red and black. Sometimes brown. Situationally," Wade says, pulling on the shirt. It isn't terrible at all, Wade's a muscular guy, though he's no Cap. There's no worry of tearing the shirt from muscle flex: just from other activities.

Wade flexes heroically. "Do I pass approval of your sensitive sensibilities now?" Wade asks wryly.

Captain America has posed:
Wade is indeed haunting. Steve doesn't flinch, however, disinclined to linger on contemplating the vision on display.

Pulling his lips to one side against a smirk, Steve snorts and holds out a hand specifically for the My Little Pony t-shirt. "Wade, we're soldiers. We've seen enough blood to last us for years. It's not about sensitivity or sensibility. It's about being comfortable. Want me to try and get the stains out? Could use some Borax or peroxide, but it might weaken the fabric," he warns the Merc.

Deadpool has posed:
"I washed it, it isn't /fresh/ blood. That would be entirely disrespectful of me, and I'm doing a respectful Deadpool upon visiting. I didn't leap on you either. MAXIMUM EFFORT best behavior," Wade says, but wads up the shirt and tosses it towards Steve with an indifferent shrug. "That isn't my holy grail, give it a shot, sure."

"I'm not a soldier. I giggle when orders are barked at me," Wade giggles.

"Also, if I do leap /anyway/, well, I did try. I want you to know that. And knowing is half the battle."

Captain America has posed:
"It is half the battle." The agreement floats over Steve's shoulder as he tosses the My Little Pony shirt into what appears to be a smaller, separate hamper set in the interior flooring of the washer and dryer space. This must be the biohazard pile, wherein clothing falls when it's spattered with mucus, blood, bile, or any number of questionable terran or non-terran substances. At least there aren't a good number of pieces of clothing in it right now.

"'nd you have been very respectful so far, Wade, thank you." The Captain won't bring up the aspect of finding the Merc in his room unexpectedly, but he's accepted it is par for the course with the man. It's a bit like having a cat -- a big, squirrely, unpredictable, muscley, foul-mouthed, red-and-black cat. He lingers by the end of the couch and checks what's on the TV without fully acknowledging it. "Figured I'd eat some lunch, you want anything?" Fingers comb through his damp hair on their way back to rub beneath his ear in passing.

Deadpool has posed:
"Yeah! To lunch!" Wade says suddenly, tossing the TV remote to the couch cushion and lunging to his feet. "FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK," Wade yells abruptly as he lands on some Legos. He bounces off to the door. "FUCK," Wade adds, pulling the lego stuck in his foot out, and tossing it back to the pile.

Then, in a small, guilty voice, he looks at Steve. Oh.

"...fuck," Wade says, in a small little guilty voice. Oopsy. Language. In spades.

"When I fuck up I don't really go for second place, I go for the gold," Wade remarks, lifting a finger to tap his lips, as if trying to quiet himself. It fails, obviously.

"To lunch!" He trots towards the door.

Captain America has posed:
A slow, patient sigh leaves the stoic Captain as he watches poor Wade dance across the floor. He has been victim to literal caltrops before, Steve has, and even if these are not bent nails laced with something god-awful, he can still imagine the amount of momentary agony they inflict. His headshake is remonstrating, but in a pale manner.

"Yep, to lunch," he concurs as he makes his way across the way to the door in his bare feet. The Merc with the Mouth demonstrated ample reason to watch his placement of step and near the door, he stoops to fish up a tiny lost piece, one single tall rectangle with a button-circle atop it. This gets pocketed. "There's leftover pizza in the fridge, we can reheat it. Cold pizza is a travesty."

By the tiniest impish curl at the corners of his lips, this must be a favored argument around the mansion: to eat cold pizza or no?

Deadpool has posed:
"Cold pizza, hot pizza, I'm easy," Wade says, going out into the hallway after snaring his hoodie off of the floor by the door where he'd flung it. "For you, that is. Easy about that, and maybe other things. I won't give examples. ...Or will I."

Wink wink.