Owner	Pose
Deadpool	Seated in a lawn chair dragged out of the side of one of the garages sits someone that doesn't belong.     One of these things doesn't match the location. But at least this time it's not Harry Potter. It's Spider-Man! Really! Mostly. Sort of. Not really. It's more like a halloween knock-off look than an official one. But there he is, in the chair, with a roll of borrowed duct tape from the garage, trying to find the end of it. Just rotating the thing slowly in his hands, trying to find where the end is.     "For fuck sake, WHERE is your ass." He's gone around it four times. He slowly checks again, bent way over, to look super close. Stupid tape.
Jubilee	"You make a really BAD Spidey, dude." Jubilee is celebrating Halloween a little early, with her hair pulled up into pigtail knots with shiny mylar streamers of orange, green, black, and purple. She's wearing jeans and a little tee shirt bearing an arched black cat that reads "I'll Be Your Boo." Jubilee pauses and tilts her head. "Even if you find it you're never gonna peel it up with gloves on, y'know. Gimme that, I'll find it for ya. Who are we kidnapping?" she asks, trying to swipe the roll.
Deadpool	"THAT.... would ruin the surprise. It's not you, though. So don't start anticipating," Deadpool says, cheery, and not minding that she knew who he was. "I'm clearly the spidey-est spidey. I mean, I don't shit webbing, but I consider that an improvement on the real model. What gave me away?" Deadpool asks, chatty. He gives up the tape, and stretches in the chair with a small wiggle of ass, lifting hands to stretch them behind his head, reclined. The mask is very similar to his own mask, so the grin against the fabric still shows in high relief.
Jubilee	"You were arguing with a roll of tape," Jubilee replies, as if that in itself explains everything. Her look is one of focused concentration and determination, as she turns the tape roll at least two times in her own hands, squinting. "Besides, I think if Spidey said the word 'ass' he'd probably burst into flames. AHA!" She has found the end of the tape and is trying to peel it in various directions before getting it right. Then, pulling out a strip of it, she looks at Spiderpool with a mock-menacing look. She fails, miserably.
Deadpool	"Burst into flames? Naw, the flames are saved for the 'fucks' and variations on fuck," Deadpool provides with a finger waggling. "Ass is really not even worth a grimace, unless maybe you're Captain America. I haven't seen him in AGES, not since a party. There were good snacks. Not enough violence." He pats his thighs with his hands in a fidgety way, but she has since solved the tape.    "You want the honors then? Really? Yeah! Let's do this," Deadpool says, perky, as she 'menaces' him with the tape. All the bluffs called, obviously. "Let me boop boop."     With a 'boop boop' on inducer, he cuts the image, and spreads his thighs open where he's sitting, before dropping one hand to pull up the left leg a little.     Wrapped around left thigh is a band of duct tape that has mostly come off. It is clearly attempting to hold up the leg on that side, but didn't stick well, since the leather is soaked with semi-dried blood. It looks like someone possibly successfully cut almost through his leg on that side, and the fabric tore more, such that the leg fell down. He attempted a repair. And is attempting to repair his repair, now. The flesh underneath looks like it was hit with a weedwhacker, and is bloody, but isn't actively leaking. He starts to rip off the old duct tape off the horror show, with no flinches at all.     "A benefit to no leg hair: no waxing," Deadpool announces.
Jubilee	Jubilee stands staring at the leg in abject horror. "Holy shit, are you undead?!" she asks, probably in earnest. "Is this how you fix stuff?" She pilfers with one hand in a messenger bag slung across her chest as the tape roll swings freely from the other hand. She mutters to herself as she rifles through the bag, apparently finding what she needed. She pulls it out victoriously: a travel-sized spray can. "I have Bactine!" she announces heroically.
Deadpool	"Undead? No, I..." Deadpool stops talking. Don't worry, only for a beat while he listens to himself. "Actually sometimes I wonder about it. Maybe I am. I should be pretty dead, but I walk around all the time. But headshots also don't work on me. So I'm a special type of undead that breathes and doesn't eat brains or blood. I'd be okay with sparkling, the shit deal I have now is not sparkly."     Focuuuuus. "I do like to kill things though." FOCUS. "I'm trying to just keep my pant leg on; if I spread disease that's more a bonus than a hindrance."
Jubilee	"BUT THERE'S BLOOD EVERYWHERE HOW IS IT STILL A LEG." Jubilee appears to be near hyperventilation as she stares at the pant leg, holding out the tape as though showing it to the injury might be enough. "Okay...here."She starts taping the pant leg and looks up at him. "How does this feel?" she asks, taping the leg. "Better, or worse?"
Deadpool	Deadpool suddenly screams bloody murder as she impacts his leg with the tape, lurching at her, both hands flung out to grab at her shoulders. It then explodes into a cheeky laugh and he attempts to pat-pat her. The pant leg also falls down some. Not far: the leather's pretty stiff, so it stays up around his knee, leaving just a few inches of bloody gap. Looks like he's skinned, due to the blood. "Really it's fine, don't vomit ON me, k."
Jubilee	When Wade screams, Jubilee does too, almost as if she thinks the leg is coming off instead of just the pant leg. Because for one, it sort of looks like it. And two, the power of suggestion. As such, she begins to dry heave. "I think it's okay. This is all okay," she manages between heaves.
Deadpool	"Yeah. Since it's so okay, let's go ahead and let me have that back," Deadpool says, waggling one gloved hand for the duct tape, watching her critically, head cocked a little to the side. "Put your head between my knees or something, to feel better," Deadpool suggests/offers.
Jubilee	Jubilee we gives over custody of the roll to him. "Yeah you're probably better at this than I am," she explains and slowly moves to place her head between his knees. She is nothing if not obedient when life or death of limbs is concerned.
Deadpool	"Just, yeah, breathe or something. Or if you want to do anything else while you're there, I mean. Feel free to experiment with the space," Deadpool says, reclining in his chair a little bit. And then realizing the duct tape hanging off the roll might be in her hair. Err. He considers what to do, then just rips that part off, leaves that with her. That's fine.
Jubilee	Jubilee pauses, distracted from the blood by the suggestion, and she looks at his mask face. "Dude. Are you suggesting that I um..." She is getting woozy again, now.
Deadpool	"Yes. I'm really suggestive. But I don't actually want vomit in my pants that isn't my own." Skillfully, Deadpool finally wraps his leg. Well, 'skillfully' is really pushing it, but he does wrap his leg a lot with duct tape, so much so that it pretty much isn't going anywhere for a while. "OKay. Love to stay more, but I do have to go cut pieces off of the dude that did this. Use my chair, feel better, huh?" Deadpool says, directing her to sit in his chair, and then, some boop-boops later, he... teleports.     Yes, the guy teleports. Yet also takes a taxi. Because that way, you appreciate teleporting. Also sometimes it doesn't go to the right place. Reliability isn't a strong point with Deadpool or his possessions. Except the guns. But --- okay, that's enough.