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August 15, 2014: Deadpool decides to drop in on Domino. What a dolt. (Language/violence warning.)

West Side of Midtown, Manhattan

Out on the streets of NYC.



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Mood Music:

It's looking like a pleasant afternoon around the city. Clouds dot the sky, a cool wind occasionally washes through the city streets, even the temperature is generally in agreement with the rest of the atmosphere. It's all quite fortunate for Domino, as she's recently lost her motorcycle -and- her BMW. Granted she already scored another bike but there are times where she just wants a -car,- and the security that a trunk full of ordnance can provide.

Which means that she's had to fall back to her blacked out 1969 Stingray convertible. With the top down, naturally. Hunkered within the black leather interior is a blacked out albino, the only color upon her person coming from the deep purple tinted sunglasses which hide her eyes, but not the patch around the left side of her face.

The radio's on, and much to her annoyance -all of her stations- are currently on break for commercials and idle chatter.

"..Destruction of an oil rig yesterday, I mean..the..the last I heard you were supposed to drill for oil, not blast for it, right? It's been a while since we've all had a proper ecological disaster to fret about, so Green Peace is going to be losing some sleep over the coming weeks-"

Stuck at a traffic light Domino snorts and flicks the radio volume down, impatiently drumming pale fingertips across the wheel. "I can feel my face -cooking- out here, guys… Get a damn move on."


Deadpool's been a busy mercenary. You don't get paid by sitting around watching TV all day. Well sometimes you do, but that job sucks. Really. It does. Having been left on the coast of South Carolina, ol' DP needed a way to get back to his home in New York City. There are lots of ways to do this. Stealing a bi-plane and holding the pilot at point blank is one good way.

After having gotten to New York, there still remained one issue. He was in an airplane and not on the ground. Air Traffic Control can't search him, that'd be bad for publicity. Not to mention, this is SHIELD's city. They can't know he's back in town. So he does what any reasonable adult would do. He opens the door and steps on out with his parachute.

After falling for a few thousand feet, the white parachute 'floof!'s out and he drifts over the city skyline parallel to the highway. Oh yes. He'll land on the sidewalk. Perfect execution. Until his chute gets stuck on a flagpole over the highway. "Aww dang. Ain't this justa barrel full a suck?" He hangs there for a bit, looking down at the passing cars. He isn't… No.. No he wouldn't dare.


*KERKRASH* Something heavy falls right into the passenger seat of Domino's car. The car's suspension bottoms out and the floorboard bends inwards a little bit from the impact as a body just lands right in the seat. The obvious sound of bones breaking is followed by sounds not far from the sound of cracking knuckles and bones as the black and red suited Wade sits up. "OoooowwAaahahahaha! That was AWESOME!"


The FUCK-?!

Domino's usually on edge, regardless of the situation. The albino -jumps,- and not just because her car's rebounding off of the street from the impact. The clutch snaps, causing the car to momentarily lurch forward with a chirping of tires before the engine cuts out and dies.

Then she's got a pistol trained on Deadpool, having backed herself into the very corner where her seat and the car door meet. Head hunkered down in case of crossfire or witnesses for positive identification. The usual 'duck and cover' routine. "-Jeezus,- Wade..! You aren't Captain fucking America, the Hell?!"

(Dammit, I've gotta get out of here…)

With one hell of a scowl on her pasty white features she reaches for the ignition and kicks the engine over, just in time for the light to change back to green. With a skittering of tires across cracked and worn pavement she ducks through, cutting off two other lanes in order to make a left turn. Three horns are quick to sound out, and a quick spray of sparks are quick to fly out from beneath her damaged car as it bottoms out once more over a ridge in the street.

"This is -nine- kinds of bullshit, you -colossal- idiot!"


Wade doesn't even react to the pistol trained on him. The harness is still around his body from the parachute he clipped off, and the parachute is still hanging from the flagpole off the side of the building he dropped from. Reaching up, he cracks his neck back into place. "Are those poprocks you're eating?"

He looks over, confused. "No.. No. That's the sound of my spine snapping back together." Smacking the side of his head a couple times pops the final vertebrae back in place. That is some gross shit right there. "Captain America? Look, I'm the original -loose cannon-. I'm /Deadpool/."

Then the car's off. It's a little surprising the thing can still move with the thing as fucked up as it is. You don't -drop- nearly a hundred feet into a car without doing a little damage to it. "Yeah? Well, you're a turd blossom. I'm rubber you're glue." Insulted! Shots fired!

Reaching forward, he turns the radio up a bit, " responders are still working around the clock.." News blaring like that hiphop insecure white people blast to look cool. He points to the radio and leans back in his seat, propping his arm on the bent door. "Back in action, baby."


"Loose thought process, anyway," Domino growls as she looks for the first place she can find to park that's secluded enough to assess the situation properly.

Good old fashioned Detroit steel. They just don't make cars like this anymore. Thank goodness she didn't get stuck driving a Prius or some sort of plastic shit.

"Shut up, Wade," she mutters darkly while ducking into an underground parking garage, complete with a few more scrapes as the steep incline shaves a little more metal off of the undercarriage beneath Deadpool's general area.

The insulted 'Vette slides into an open space with an echo of tires sliding across smooth concrete, the albino -snapping- the handbrake up with one hand and whipping the shades clear of her face with the other. Before she can dive back into the whole 'what the hell' topic she gets to listen to the radio, followed with 'back in action.'

Blue eyes widen, never breaking her attention off of Deadpool as she points to the radio with her shades still in hand. "-You?- -You're- responsible for that mess?" Destroying an oil rig, that's..probably a good paying job, right there… "Then you can afford to repair my fucking car."

She's going to have to figure out where to go from here before she can go anywhere at all. She reaches over and kills the ignition, the 9mm sidearm still resting in her lap. Just in case she feels the need to shoot someone through the temples. "When I told you to get your life back in order I didn't mean to do so at the expense of mine, Wade."


Deadpool leans back into the seat. That kind of smug look about him that just answers Domino's question for her. Yeah. Yeah, he was responsible for that mess and pissing off SHIELD like few had done before him. "What? Don't I even get a dinner date first?" He says in a joking voice. "Yeah."

"I'll be the first to admit when I've gone too far." Wade laughs a bit. Accusatorily, he points his finger to Domino while leaning forward. "I didn't jump out of an airplane and guide my landing by the reflection of your skin off the sun though, Patchy." He pokes Domino a couple times annoyingly while talking to make it clear he's talking about /you/, before sitting back in the seat.

If ever there were a time to blast a hole through his head, now would probably be the time. Sitting up, he vaults over the side of the car door, easily bottoming out his side of the car against the pavement as he lands standing next to the car. He's missing quite a few guns, but still pretty well armed.


"Do I -look- like I'm ready to make a reservation at the Le Bernardin?" she challenges before hanging her head with a heavy sigh, scratching at her temple with the front sight of her pistol. (No, that would just be sheer dumb luck that led you into my proximity.) "I can't help it if I have a magnetic fucking personality," she grumbles while shoving the sidearm back into its holster beneath her arm.

Shooting Wade is tempting. It usually is. But, not only would she then have blood and brain matter potentially staining her car but she'd have to get moving -again,- and she needs to figure out where she's running to before she starts running blind.

That's why she frees her hands up, sunglasses tossed onto the dashboard as she pulls out her phone and starts jabbing ghostly fingertips at the screen. "I'm -serious- about you paying for repairs, Deadpool. I haven't been quite so lucky with transportation lately."


Deadpool turns, putting both hands on the windowsill of the car door before turning with a wide mouthed-smile behind his mask. He leans in, "Magnetic?! That's hilarious!" He laughs, "THIS IS A REAL LAUGH." Sitting back up straight, he drums his fingers over the cardoor. "You're out of luck! I'm broke."

He shrugs. Hasn't been paid yet. "The cost of repairing this car is too damn high." Stepping back and turning away, he reaches up to scratch at his bald-ass head. Thinking, thinking. He turns around, "I've got it. I'll team up with you. We'll be partners. It'll be AWESOME. I have a costume for you and everything." He pauses.

.. An awkward pause. "Not that I had one premade in your size or anything. .. Look, a guy gets lonely, okay?"


He's broke… Fantastic.

Domino tries her very best to ignore the words which are coming out of his mouth though not even experience can help her in achieving her moment of Zen.

Here's a promising looking shop. Not too far away, either. She makes note of the address then tucks her phone back into hiding, right around when he starts talking about partnering up and that he's already got a costume ready for her. She turns back to look his way, feigning surprise. "Hey Deadpool, you know what I just realized? You've got your healing factor back!"

An alabaster hand darts out like a bolt of lightning, pulling her nine millimeter free, leveling it at Wade's head, and squeezing the trigger in one swift motion.


The click and ting of a spent shell casing echoes off to the side, rolling across the concrete.

"Lucky you."


Deadpool watches Domino as she taps away on her phone. "We could do bounties like Batman and Robin. Or America and Canada, except you'll be Canada because I'm obviously America." Then Domino reacts, looking surprised. Which makes him look surprised, "You'll do it?!" He responds to Domino's realization.

"SWEE-Wait." *Kablaam!* The hole forms nicely through his skull, splattering brains and blood out behind him. The sheer force of the bullet impacting him and that moment of stun causes him to fall onto his back against the pavement. It only takes a few seconds for the bullet to push out of his scrambled brain through the impact hole, the metal clinging against the pavement as it rolls off his face.

The hole clears up soon after and he sits back up, "I -really- have a craving for pancakes, now."


(Cripes, he's talking -already?- Pancakes, huh. Alright, it's a date.)

The large eight cylinder engine fires up with a deafening roar, Domino not wasting any time both from pulling the trigger and because Wade's still not quite out of the picture. Leaving is in her best interest. The faster, the better.

If she happens to run right over the downed merc on her way to the exit, well that would just be a shame.


"Fucking speedbumps."


"Hey, you aren't leaving without me are you, partner?" Deadpool says while still sitting on the pavement. Then the car rear-ends him right in the face, smacking him back down as the rear tire rolls over his body. "Ow! Hrrrkfoow!" That'll leave him on the pavement long enough for Domino to speed away, and there's not a thing he can do about it.

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