Where in the world is Carmen Sandiego?

January 16, 2015: Santa Pool delivered wads of cash to the homeless and a date broke out.


A homeless shelter in Mutant Town, USA; the Buggered Goat in Dublin, Ireland; and Case del Pulpo in New York.



Mood Music:

With a city as large as New York there's always a use for money. Almost everyone wants it, though most remain unable to secure it. This is especially true in the run-down section not so lovingly referred to as Mutant Town, where like-gened creatures band together to try and look out for their own. Poverty is a way of life, made all the worse being in the dead of a harsh Winter.

Fortunately, the more desperate tend to be quite resourceful in other ways. As it turns out information is always useful as well, with some pieces being worth considerable coin to the right people. This is what brought Domino to a hole in the wall homeless shelter, little more than a dirty and poorly lit basement which tries its very best to help the local community.

One way to help out involves making a cash offering. For the right info, of course. A heavy black leather trench keeps all of her far from legal hardware out of sight, searching the shelter for the man of the hour.

It had better be worth it for her to run around in the middle of Manhattan again.

"Just put the clothes on!" yells out an Irish accented voice from a side room where they pile up the donated clothes. "Aye… it's very flattering but no one wants to see it. Clothes. On. Don't make me yell!" Even though she seems to be yelling anyway. A redhead teenager in simple jeans and hoodie steps out of that room and quickly scans the basement. It's easy to pick out Domino. "Welcome" the teen smiles to the other woman as she approaches, "I'm Terri. Are you hungry? We have some clothes if ya need them but ya coat looks… looks good. So it be food and a place to sleep yer after?"

Now see..this isn't what Dom's expecting to hear upon showing up at the shelter. It's cold out, who needs to be -told- to put clothes on? Then again..Mutant Town. Who the heck knows.

"Yeah, you've got company!" she calls back just for the sake of being a brat.

The albino woman might not know exactly who it is that she's looking for but she's preeeetty sure this redheaded girl isn't her informant. Maybe they didn't make it here, yet..? With the offers that are being passed her way she holds an empty hand up. "Thanks, kiddo. I'm fine, just looking for someone."

Someone which she isn't seeing. Eh, what does she have to lose?

"You hear of a guy named Pebble? Guess he's got grey skin, no hair?" (I suddenly feel like such an idiot.)

Wouldn't life be worth the living, wouldn't dreams come true, if we kept the Christmas spirit, all the whole year through? It's a nice sentiment around the holidays, but often forgotten come January. But not by one very special little boy. And we mean special as in the type that rides the short bus. Still, for all his faults, and they are considerable, you should never underestimate Wade Wilson's desire to do good when he thinks it'll help him score.

The current object of his affections just so happens to work at a homeless shelter in mutant town. He's put on a Santa Claus costumed and filled his bag with goodies. Walking down the street, he passes three women, each of them in heels, stockings, and heavy winter coats. He smiles through his mask, saying, "ho, ho, ho" to each of them in turn, "sorry girls, but you're on Santa Pool's naughty list. Buuuuut, I can't just leave you empty handed." With a quick movement, he'll toss a wad of cash to each of them. As he sets off again, the sounds of their screams and hair pulling will lift his spirits. He'll have to check back later to see how they ended up dividing the money. From there, he'll make his way to the shelter, singing a merry tune as he enters, "Jingle bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg, the batmobile lost its wheel, and the Joker got away!"

"Pebble?" Siryn asks with a surprised look on her face. "I don't know anyone by that name but people don't really give out their names around here. Especially if they're called Pebble. You'd think he'd choose Granite or something." A shrug at that but before she can continue she is interrupted by the late arrival of Father XXX-Mas. "Fook me" she whispers to herself, complete with roll of her eyes, before turning to look over at Santa. "If Batman hears you singing that you'll end up with a gearstick where you don't want it. Or maybe where you do want it. You know he ain't got a sense of humour. Except when it comes to dressing up Robin. And speaking of bad red costumes, who the fook are you dressed as?" Siryn has no doubt who is under that mask.

"Of course not," Domino mutters with a subtle, but tired, sigh. "That's the problem with nicknames, only the bad ones tend to st..ick…"

Someone's… singing. Getting closer, too. Domino's monochromed features shift into a frown, muttering a "What the hell…?" as she turns to look over a shoulder at some weirdo who seems to have missed the twenty-fifth of last month. By about three weeks.

Correction: Some weird Wade. "The Hell, Deadpool? What are you supposed to be, the after-party Santa?" (Coming to us live with mangled tunes from more than two decades ago.)

Turning ever so slightly back to Terri, she asks "Are you familiar with this guy?" If 'yes,' it should explain things a little better. If 'no,' she'll take the opportunity to get some distance and cover her ears before the screaming starts.

Santa Pool exclaims, "Terry! How are you, did you do something with your hair, I'm sure it was another colour the last time I was here." As he walks over, he's greeting people, "Mack, still dribbling, I like that," he'll ruffle someone's hair, and address Siryn again, "ooh, you've got a dirty mind. Do you kiss your dead mother with that mouth? Probably not, that would be gross, even by my standards, well, there was that one time… but I brought presents!"

Standing there, Wade wears his regular Deadpool costume, but over that he has a red Santa Claus coat, a fake beard, and a Santa hat. He's also got on Santa boots, but no Santa pants. His own work well enough. Setting the big bag on a nearby table, he starts pulling out stacks of cash. "All right, who asked Santa for cash this year? Sorry about the delay, but Rudolph had a nasty infection this year. I think he's been spending too much time with Dasher and Blitzen. They're a bad influence on him, I tell ya!"

Upon seeing Domino, Wade's eyes will go wide as his mask, "Domino, I haven't played you in forever. Fancy a game?" That mask of his is ever so expressive. One of these days, he's going to have to get that patented and mass produce it. Since she was so 'good' this year, he'll hand Domino some cash, "here you go, I know you've been a bad girl, but I won't hold it against you, unless you're gonna let me?"

"The only thing I did with my hair was take out the gum you stuck in it last time" Siryn glares at Deadpool before offering a lighter look to Domino. "Oh, aye, I know him. Whether that is a good thing or…" And then the masked man is handing out cash and Siryn's eyes go wide with horror. "What are you doing!?" She tries to grab the cash and stuff it back in the bag. "Is this stolen? Are you handing out stolen fookin' money?" A glance between the two of them as Wade shows he has a friend in the room… or an acquaintance at least. "You two know each other? Maybe this is Pebble" she offers Domino about Deadpool. "If it is referring to brain size."

"I'll take that as a yes," Domino answers her own question when FauxClaus greets Terri by name. It's quickly becoming another one of the kinds of situations where she's not entirely certain what to do, which seems to be the norm where the Mouthy Merc is concerned. She's just..going to take the moment to pinch the bridge of her nose. Don't mind her. Migraine. It's that time of year.

She's all set to respond to Wade's question when he just up and hands her a wad of cash. Pale blue eyes quickly widen in turn, staring at the stack of bills for a generous half a second before she reaches out to claim them. Because why the hell not? Free money is free money!

"So long as 'the game' involves some manner of job and not some manner of subject only you might be dreaming about," she replies.

To Terri next, her expression falling rather blank, she offers "It's definitely a thing." 'Good' or 'bad' seems to depend on the day. Though as Terri protests to being handed the money, Dom offers "I'll take it off your hands for ya." It's followed with a pause, turning back to Deadpool with one blackened brow notably higher than the other. The brow not covered in a large black spot. That one isn't as easy to see.

"Did you recently paint yourself grey and run around without your mask on..?"

"Gum," Deadpool repeats, wondering where he got that gum, since he doesn't even chew gum. Probably best not to mention that out loud. Though that glare isn't appreciated. What's he done this time? "I thought everyone loved me? I'm the loveable rogue, the merc with the mouth!" Most of the homeless people he's been giving money to seem to like him, but that'd to be expected. Each one has gotten around five thousand dollars, and they're in non-consecutive denominations, mostly small bills.

When Siryn tries to catch one of the wads of cash, presumably to stuff it back into his bag, he'll assure her that "no, no, this isn't stolen. I earned this, fair and square. Can't I give to charity? My accountant said it'd be a tax write off. I'm seriously thinking about paying tax this year." He looks genuinely sad at her reaction. He was trying to do good. How come it always ends so badly for him?

But Domino's question confused him, "Grey Deadpool, Deadpool Grey, the Grey Pool, no, that doesn't sound right, and besides, I've been working on my tan. Can't you tell by my reddish complexion?" And he'll roll up a coat sleeve to show his costume covered arm. "See?"

"You canna just hand out cash, Wade" Siryn tries to plead with him.

"Okay… yes… you're doing good but now I've got a bunch of people who are gonna go out and blow their wads on… never mind… forget I said that. What they do with their wad is their business." She offers Deadpool a sweet smile, a consoling pat of the arm and a quick peck to his masked cheek. "And it's from Santa, right?" Earned 'fair and square' is something she won't get into at the moment. Terri looks to the pair. "I'll let you have your chat about yer business then." Her attention is caught by a guest throwing up against the wall. "I think I'm needed." She darts off… completely able to hear anything that is being said anyway.

When Dom gets her answer she slowly releases her breath. Okay, -not- Pebble. Awesome. She'll still have to find the guy, but hey! She seems to have a knack for picking the needle out of the haystack. And getting free money, apparently… She'll count it out later.

Is it sad that this Middle of January Present is the only thing that she had been given out of the season? Well, that and a USB drive with the name and info of a guy that had hired someone else to kill her, but those kinds of gifts come around during any time of the year.

"Glad to see business is booming," she says in a somewhat flat tone. Since this money had been earned properly, and all. (And just what is proper, given some of the people in this room?) "And your tan."

Then Terri goes and says something which Dom feels the sudden urge to counter. You can't hand out cash? Really? "Why the heck not?" she asks with another blank, wide-eyed look at the redhead before she takes off to deal with spontaneous Upchuck. This is one way to sour her expression in a hurry.

"That reminds me, I have to go drinking tonight."

Frowning through his mask, Deadpool asks, "how come I can't?" If he were given a wad of cash from a perfect strange, he'd have a lot of fun with it, and then it'd be gone. Why can't these good folks have the same joy? But if Terry says no, then Deadpool will think about yoinking the cash out of the grubby little hands of the one's already given to. That would probably be bad. But not giving out to the others would be too. Fortunately, Terry seems resigned to the fact that they'll spend it how they want.

After she gives him the pat on the arm and the kiss on his masked cheek, he'll exclaim, "she kissed me, she kissed me," grabbing a homeless guy by the arms, "did you see, she kissed me!" And then he'll go back to delivering the Christmas cheer by giving out a wad to the rest of the people before sealing what's left over in the bag.

He'll keep a hold of the bag for now, but say, "the rest is for you, Terry. Just let me know where to put it, will ya, 'cause this thing's heavy. How about we use some of this to go drinking together? I know a place that'll let you in, and Dom, I'm sure they'll card you if I pay them enough." Now that's a cheap shot.

Why would Terri want to go drinking when she can have the fun of wiping up vomit all night? And not her own too! "I don't need any money, Wade, but thank ye for the thought." Most of her guests are now heading outside with their gifts. There will be some bars doing well tonight. Even the one that was just showing the world what they ate for lunch has grabbed some cash and is dashing off. As Terri surveys the empty basement, a bowl even spinning from how quickly the eater left, she shrugs at the offer of drinking. "Don't have anything else to do. Sure. Why not?"

She missed it. Right here in front of the albino, and she completely missed it. Fortunately, Deadpool's quick to make sure that everyone in the place knows what just happened. The redhead just kissed the guy on the cheek…! "Guess it's still the time for miracles after all," Domino mutters to herself.

Just how much money is he carrying around in that bag, anyway? If she didn't know that he would recover from whatever kind of injury she could inflict on him right here and now, and very likely hold one -hell- of a grudge later…

Then… card… "Ouch?" she blankly replies while looking back to Wade. "Hey, don't be bitter because my scars happen to look better than yours."

It takes a moment but curiosity does get the better of her, particularly now that Terri's distanced herself. Glancing at the bag, she asks "So where -did- you get all of that?"

As a room-clearing strategy it certainly worked well. Costly! But effective.

Wade is so pleased with himself. He set a supervillain free, he got paid, and he brought smiles to some needy faces. He's also probably helped out some prostitutes outside. No doubt, the bars, liquor stores, drug dealers, and motel owners will all be happy as well.

He even got a peck on the cheek from Theresa! So all in all, a good time was had. He didn't even have to get shot, so that's a first, though it has left him feeling suspicious. He's probably in for a bit of pain. His luck is never this good.

"Scars, I don't have any scars? At least I don't think I have any. My healing factor is too good. I wish I had scars, chicks dig scars." Of course, he has other issues with his complexion, but scars aren't one of them.

"Woah, this place cleared out faster than the John at the Hellhouse after C.F.'s had his two-for-one chimichanga Tuesday." He waves his hand, pretending to hold his nose, suggesting that the smell is toxic after C.F.'s had that much Mexican food.

And to Terry, he says, "fine, whatever, give it to charity, the homeless shelter, whatever you want babe." He'll toss the bag onto a nearby table, "oh, and there's a present in there, just for you."

"A present?" When Wade is involved that usually causes more concern than excitement. "How about I open it later?" she suggests, since Domino is in the room and it's probably something that requires batteries or clothes you wear while using something that requires batteries. Wade is not known for his subtlety. As for the bag itself she hefts it from the table and looks a bit surprised at how much is still in there. "Let me lock this up for now" she tells the others before carrying it out back. Will it still be there tomorrow? Who knows? Domino does look like she's fond of money. Grabbing a green jacket, Siryn wanders back out after a few minutes. "I'm not overly fond of scars" she offers but she seems to be with the wrong audience for that. These two look like scars are a way of life. "So… which cheap pub are we able to get me into tonight?"

Damn healing factors. Sometimes they're just not fun for everyone else. Until you come to realize that a person who heals from mortal injuries within minutes can be -fantastic- for stress relief. Domino's considering helping Deadpool out with his dilemma of having not been shot yet, she's got bullets to spare.

On second thought, she still hasn't found Pebble and now she's got an evening's worth of getting utterly trashed already comped. And this place still smells like vomit. The night may not be a complete wash, local air quality aside.

"Surprised someone hasn't burned that place to the ground yet," she says to Wade in regards to the Hellhouse. Already it seems like a lifetime ago since she's set foot in the place.

With the other two gearing up to head out she shifts the weight of her trench around her shoulders, passing Wade one more cautious glance. He sure seems to be in a good mood tonight… Maybe it'll be okay turning her back on him long enough to head back to street level. "Yeah, you kids have fun. I need to track down another mutant who has problems with directions."

"Your call, red," he says. Wade would have liked her to open it in front of him, but he doesn't want to push Terry. She seems to like, or at least tolerate him, and that's pretty rare in this big bad world of his. The present was in the bag she locked up, so hopefully it will still be there tomorrow. Maybe Deadpool will steal it first, just to make sure it doesn't go missing. That's logical, ain't it?

When Terry returns with the green jacket, he asks, "is that a new jacket? It looks good on you. Like broccoli, and who doesn't like broccoli?" Wade probably does like broccoli, he's just crazy enough to, and Brussels sprouts too.

"Have fun," he says to Domino, before asking "you're not coming with? Awe, but Dommy, please, pretty please with sugar on top? You gotta come." But the mutant will not be dissuaded, and is soon gone. Looking to Siryn, he says, "looks like it's just the two of us. So, where in the world are we gonna find Carmen Sandiego?"

Siryn waves a goodbye to Domino. "Nice to meet you" she calls out… did she get a name? Then it's a sigh and a roll of her eyes at Deadpool. "Did you just say I looked like a vegetable? For fooks sake, Wade, have you not had any practice with wooing?" A shake of her head as she laughs. "Yer okay, Wade. Honest. But my uncle always used to say, 'If a man in a mask is trying to ask you out then he obviously has a lot to hide.' He also used to talk a lot about leprechauns."

Siryn purses her lips in thought as she considers where Carmen may be. "Probably next to Waldo" she offers, "But wherever it is there'd better be some Irish whiskey." A quirk of a brow towards him. "This is a date, right? So you're paying?"

Wade looks genuinely surprised by that, "But I like broccoli, especially when you lather it with butter, put some cheese on top, and sprinkle it with bacon bits, mmm mmm, eating healthy never tasted so good!" But then he stops abruptly before going onto some more nonsense, "Wait a minute, did you say wooing? You're wooable? I can woo you?" Is he joking, or being serious? Maybe it's a shock that she'd think of him that way.

"Hmm, I ain't got nothing to hide. Just… under this mask, it's not a pretty sight. I'm no Ryan Reynolds, though I hear he's gonna play me in the movie." Yeah, like they'd ever make a movie about Deadpool. What a kidder. And then, without warning, he'll reach for her waist, pulling her in close, and suddenly they disappear in a sparkle of light and smoke.

When the light dims and the smoke clears, the sky is a different colour. They aren't where they were. It now looks like they're standing in some European town. And does that say… it can't be? Can it? They're standing in front of the St. James's Gate Brewery, where Guinness is made. They're in Dublin, but they were just in New York. How'd he do that? "Now, it's just a matter of finding some place that's open…"

"If a man… and I assume yer a man… keeps on taking a woman out for drinks then I'm thinking it's a wooing. The nuns at Saint Cuthberts would have said it was fornication but they thought that of holding hands too." Siryn shrugs to herself. "I ain't got anyone and you're okay… for all yer bluster. And if it ain't pretty under the mask then just keep it on." Seems logical to her.

But then she is grabbed towards him and he's about to get a mouthful for presuming too much when she suddenly discovers she is in another country. "Holy fookin Saint Cecil… how… what… when." She tries to pull away. "Now how the fook did ya do that, Wade, and ya better not be playing with me 'ead."

Deadpool, who's still dressed as Santa, takes off the coat, and the beard, but keeps the Santa hat on. He'll toss the other pieces to the ground, just planning on leaving them there. He's sure someone will deal with them. Especially since he still had a wad of cash in one of the pockets.

Appearing to point with both hands, index fingers only, to his groin, he gyrates his hips for her, but he's actually pointing to the belt, "Weasel made this teleportation belt for me. They're so much fun. Everyone should have one!" And as he leans a shoulder against a brick wall fence, he responds to her, seemingly twisting the meaning of her words, "wanna fornicate?" But he really means holding hands. If she's got a dirty mind, then that's her problem. He'll push off from the wall and try to take her hand in his, if she'll let him. "You should have someone, someone suave, sophisticated, someone nice. But until that guy comes along, why not hang with a guy who can make you laugh?"

The question about fornicating actually gets Deadpool a slap to his cheek. Nothing too hard and she does look apologetic after she realises what she meant. "I just want ya to remember I'm a good girl" she explains before allowing him to take her hand. "And I don't know if you can make me laugh, Wade, ain't seen you naked" she teases before quickly adding, "And that weren't no invitation!!" That needs to be said around Wade. She breathes in the damp night air and then points over to a bar. "That'll do" she decides, "'The Buggered Goat'. That sounds like a family establishment."

Hand in hand they make their way towards the pub, Siryn occasionally offering a smile to her 'date'. "So ya knew that girl at the shelter? Old girlfriend? Not that it's any of my business or nothing."

"Owe," Deadpool lets out a moan when he's slapped across the cheek, "that really hurt!" It wasn't too bad, but he's playing it up, trying to look sympathetic, which just goes to show how messed up he can be. When she looks sorry and allows him take her hand, he adds, "then I should probably let you in on a secret. I'm a bad boy." Is he serious, or just fooling himself, one never can tell with Deadpool.

The line about him naked scares him a little. How would she react, he wonders, and how come she brough it up, even in jest? Normally, the women in his life are as messed up as he is, but Siryn seems normal, and he thinks she likes him. What gives?

"You know, a guy could get the wrong idea here with all this talk about fornicating, nakedness, and family." But he walks with her towards the Buggered Goat, which is still open. He'll even hold the door open for her. Most guys forget the fundamentals, but he doesn't. "Yeah, and nah, her name's Domino," he replies. "Her taste in men are bad, way worse than me. 'sides, she's not pale enough for me. I prefer the Irish. Do you think I'd have a shot with Conan O'Brien? He's so dreamy."

"If ya offered him the Late Show again ya might just have a chance" Siryn smiles as she enters the pub and takes a deep breath of stale beer, sweat, smoke and wasted lives. "Good ta be home again. Who is Weasel?" She makes her way over to a booth in the corner, thankfully free. "And what would be the /wrong/ idea when we talk about fornication and other sins of da flesh? I'll have a Guiness and a packet of pork scratchings." She wriggles out of her jacket and places it on the seat next to her.

"Did you mean the Tonight Show? Letterman's the Late Show, though Colbert's taking over in a few months. I can't wait." Deadpool hasn't spent as much time in Ireland as Siryn has, so he doesn't pick up on the cues, but it seems nice. "Home, oh, you're from Ireland? I never knew," he kids, before adding, "Weasel's my guy, he makes with the gadgets and I make with the money."

He'll slip into the seat next to her in the booth. Isn't he supposed to sit on the other side, like across from her? Well, who made up that stupid rule anyway? But before he can rest up too long, he's heading to the bar, where he'll get some stares, some funny looks, and a one guy will say, "awlrwite Maggie, av'e had enuff," slurring his words as he staggers out of his seat and heads for the door after seeing Deadpool.

When Wade's gotten two pints of Guinness and a packet of pork scratching, he'll slip back into his seat beside Terry. "Now, what were you saying about fornication and fleshy sin-ness?"

"Tonight Show? Late Show? Who gives a fook" is Siryn's assessment of American late night television. She does seem surprised that Wade is sitting next to her but he's not one for rules. Sometimes he's not even one for personal hygiene. "Yes…Irish" she smirks with a roll of her eyes. "What gave it away."

Ahhh… real beer. No more of that American 'having sex in a canoe' beer - fooking close to water. This is the real deal and she savours the taste as she takes a sip. "Perfect" she sighs before offering him a 'look'. "I believe I was saying that I was a good girl" she notes, "And that fornication is the Devil's work." A shrug. "Though it's nice work if you can get it. Don't you have a girlfriend, Wade? A charming rogue like you."

"The good people at NBC and CBS," Wade answers back quickly. He made her smirk. It makes him smile. He likes when she smirks. "Oh, not much, just the accent, and the skin tone, and the hair colour, eyes too, and the fact you can out drink me, and I have a healing factor that prevents me from getting drunk."

"Good girl, bad girl, in-between girl, actually, I like that last one, it sounds like fun, but they're all good choices. And no, no girlfriend for me. I gave that up. I always see the potential of failure." Honesty and humour make for one hell of a one two punch.

"Now why do I think that by in-between girl ya mean ya after a threesome" Siryn snorts in amusement. A shake of the head to accompany her list of stereotypes before she gasps, "You can't get drunk? What's the fookin point of that? Ya don't drink beer for the taste, Wade. Ya drink it for the oblivion." A few more mouthfuls of beer. "Though if ya had a girlfriend I'd be mighty pissed if ya were trying to woo me." A pause. "Not that I'm sure why I got so lucky to be wooed by a hero." Another pause. "You /are/ a hero, right?" She's remembering all that money gain.

Deadpool hasn't touched his beer yet, nor has he pulled his mask up. Those two concepts might be related. Or he might just be more interested in the conversation, "a threesome you say? I hadn't thought of that, but if you insist, sure, why not. You twisted my rubber arm."

He laughs alongside her, but nods when drinking is mentioned. "My healing factor works too fast. I can get drunk, but it takes kegs, and I still gotta drain that liquid, so, yeah, I don't get drunk much." Then she has to mention the hero bit, and he stammers, tugging at the hem of his mask, a little bit.

"Hero, um, yeah, I'm a hero. I'm the Amazing Deadpool, haven't you heard of me?" Oh crap, she's going to find out, so he might as well get it over with. "I'm what you call an anti-hero, or anti-villain, definitely somewhere between them, so yeah, I'm a hero-villain. I've got issues. But I don't let them hold me back. I live my life the way I want to." After a pause, he'll add, "it's not the most popular of decisions."

"So you're an 'in-between hero'" Siryn teases… though the froth on the end of her nose may detract from her wit. "Fookin men. It's bad enough ya can't wait to get one woman in bed but then you want to drag another man in as well." Yeah…she went with the MMF threesome.

A frown though as Deadpool admits his moral dilemmas. "Live as thou wilt" she nods, "That's what Satanists believe. But I don't think ya that bad, Wade. I think a lot of this bluster is just for the cameras, you know?" She reaches out and gives his arm a squeeze. "I think ya can be better than that. Selfish people don't hand out money. /Villains/ don't hand out money."

"You… could say that," though it'd probably be more accurate to call him an villain with a heart of gold, not that he's going to admit to it. That froth is so cute on the end of her nose that he briefly thought about leaning in to taste it, but there's the mask and the whole, they're not dating thing.

"At this point I'd be lucky to drag my dog into bed, if I had a dog, I should get a dog. Girls like dogs, right?" But then the conversation turns to Satanists, and he gives her a blank look through his mask, "Satanists? WTH, I'm not a Satanist! I don't even like that guy."

The squeeze is warmly accepted, and the belief she seems to show in him brings a smile to his masked lips. "Well, it was laying around, collecting dust, and it was easier than depositing it in the bank… I hate waiting in line."

"I'm sure some girls like dogs" Siryn nods, "But I live in a one room shoebox with a no dogs policy. Rats… everyone has rats… but no dogs. I think the rats would eat the dogs. And I'm glad ya don't like Satan. He's a real fookin piece of sh… umm… excuse my French." It looks like one pint of beer is about to disappear. "I think the real reason ya don't drink is that ya never take ya mask off. I understand all that secret identity stuff but ya make it hard to have a meal with." She offers the open packet of pork scratchings. "And you have money lying around?"

"I live in one of Doctor Octopus's old hideouts. At least, I think it used to belong to him. It has a giant freakin' statue of him in the foyer." But then he realises he may come across as showing off. He'll casually take her empty pint of beer and slides his own over to her as a replacement.

"If you really want to see, maybe we could do that, but it might be good to have a few more of those in ya first." He seems very nervous about that, sensitive too. "Why, did you want some?" He's not sure why she brought up money. He makes a lot of money doing what he does, sometimes, so it's not usually an issue. After all, he has a home in three different cities.

Siryn shakes her head to the offer of money. "No, I don't need any money" she smiles, "Though I will take ya beer." A wink for him before she is starting on another pint. "I thought ya looked like Ryan Reynolds or something" she offers with a wry smile. "That's no reason to hide behind a mask but I won't be pushing ya into anything. I've heard of Doctor Octopus. How by the sainted angels did you end up in that place?" A frown appears for a moment. "Ya not going to eat anything either? I guess it makes dates cheaper" she giggles.

Deadpool smiles, "that's good, leaves more for me!" He loves money, he loves the feel of it in his hands, the smell of it against his nose, the way it sounds as he counts it… he may need to get a room with his own thoughts. "It's yours," he says about the beer. For now, the Ryan Reynolds thing is ignored.

"Oh, I had to pay extra for it. It's pretty sweet. I even have a bowling alley. You should see it sometime. Just say the word." When she giggles about the dates being cheaper, he looks around, noting that they seem to have a bit of privacy, he asks, "you sure you want to see the freak show?"

And if she gives him a nod or other gesture in the affirmative, he'll pull up his mask, giving her a glance at his face before he quickly pulls it back down, his efforts being more frantic than he expected.

Siryn frowns at talk of freak shows. "Seriously, Wade, how horrible can it be? Fine…show me." She takes a deep breath and turns to face him better before nodding to the unveiling. Siryn stares. It was a quick flash but it was enough. And then there is a faint smile on her face before she shakes her head and returns to her beer. "Just as I thought. Handsome. But I guess you want to be more handsome than you are?" She drains the next pint and now has a peak of froth on the tip of her nose. "Another Guinness please." As he makes his way off to get the beer she adds softly…and for his ears only… "Ryan Reynolds has got nothing on you."

Wade is so very sensitive about such things, but he shows himself off to her anyway. He expected that to be the end to their friendship. He even was beginning to get up, but then she surprised him by calling him handsome, and not in a sarcastic tone. "R-really?" he asks in disbelief. Then he looks at her, waving a finger in front of her face, moving it left to right, trying to check if her vision is okay. "How many fingers am I holding up?" He's holding up three. But she seems to be genuine, and she could use another pint, so he'll go get her one.

As he's pulling out of the booth, he hears the last thing she said and smiles, walking with a bit of a bounce to his step. He even jumps up to click his heels together. A few minutes later he returns with another pint and a bag of those crisps she liked so much, "here you go, red." And he slides back down beside her.

"Thanks" Siryn smiles as he returns… and she's still cross-eyed from the finger test. She shakes her head clear before ripping open the plastic bag of scratchings which results in half of them spilling onto the table. "Mother of God" she mutters under her breath before offering him a warm smile. "You have a good heart, Wade" she notes softly, "And that beauty inside is far stronger than any ugliness outside." Siryn leans over to whisper. "But ya not ugly either." After a few more scratchings and sips of beer she asks, "If this date don't work out and ya tell me to get home myself…how do I do that?"

She's so cute as she tries to clear her head and stop looking cross-eyed. She's cute all the time. Such a friendly smile and a warm, welcoming personality. Even opening a bag of pork scratchings looks adorable on her. He tries to push them into a pile on the table, cleaning up the mess. He'll even pull up his mask to munch on a few of them, though the mask is up for only a brief time.

"Oh, that ain't going to happen. I wouldn't do that to you, and if you wanted to do that to me, I'd still get you home first. Is that what you want? Just in case? We can go back anytime."

Siryn shrugs casually. "I think I can manage a few more hours with ya" she smiles sweetly, picking her way through the pile of scratchings. "Did ya want to get an actual meal? I'm a bit peckish if'n ya don't mind. We can just get something here. They do meals out the back. But ya have to promise me ya'll eat something. And have a pop if ya don't want a beer." She looks over at the clock on the wall. "I think they even have a band in an hour so we can do some dancing."

Now that she mentions it, his stomach is growling a bit. "Sure, why not, let's see what's on the menu," and he'll get up to grab a menu. He was offered two by the bartender, but he says he only needs one, perplexing her. When he gets back to the table, he says, "sorry, they would only give me one, so we gotta share." Crafty Wade, crafty.

He'll cosy up to her, opening the menu for both of them. "Awe, no happy meals, but I so wanted to play with the little toy." It would be more surprising to see someone like Deadpool here, but since he programmed the teleportation belt for this location, he's been here a few times and they've learned to expect that strange yank, even though he's technically a Canadian. He should really sew a maple leaf into his costume.

Siryn doesn't seem to mind the close menu reading. It's all perfectly innocent since they only gave him one! "We can pick up a Happy Meal on the way home for ya" she suggests without much conviction. "Hmm… roast lamb and chips for me. Mint sauce of course. Shall we go grab a table round the back?" It is while asking this question and attempts to turn her head to look at him that she realises how packed together they are. Her face almost touching his. A red blush to her cheeks for a moment. "Umm… what are you having?"

The place isn't quite empty, but it's certainly not busy. There are quite a few tables available, and they'd probably have more room at their booth if one of them sat on the other side, but so far, neither of them has suggested it. "Oh, goodie, I love happy meals." He really does. He likes them so much he almost bought a McDonald's franchise, but he figured they'd have a problem with him calling it McDeadpool's.

"If you want, though I kind of liked… sitting here." He'll slide out of the booth, and offer his gloved hand to her. All thoughts on what he's going to get will have to wait until they're sitting a table in the back and he can look at that menu again.

If nothing else they probably won't get served their meals if they stay at the booth so they have to go out the back. Siryn happily takes the offered hand with a nod of thanks and they head out to the 'garden area' - complete with the view of disused factories. So romantic. There is a candle in the middle of the table but Siryn has no matches - not a smoker. A drinker… sure… but not a smoker. "And I'm thinking we should have a whiskey for dinner. A bottle. Each."

Deadpool may not be much of a smoker either, but he's got something in his belt that'll light the candle. In fact, it's a miniature flame thrower! But it gets the job done, and ends up lighting the candle on another table nearby. "Oops," he says, "sorry about that." He goes over and blows out the extra candle, or tries to, but the mask gets in the way, so he just puts it out with a clap of his gloved hands.

Once they're seated, he'll look at the menu. When the waitress comes over, she'll give him a bit of an odd look, obviously she's new here, but he orders a bacon cheeseburger with Monterrey jack cheese, barbecue sauce, mayonnaise, and a side order of fries, plus a bottle of whiskey for each of them. He went for the expensive stuff. He must really want to get her drunk.

Siryn just stares as a flamethrower shoots across the table in front of her and onto the next one. "O. K." she states slowly, eyes moving back and forth as she makes sure she is not in danger. Watching Deadpool attempt to put it out she winces at the attempt through the mask and is about to offer a suggestion when it is clapped out. "You do not know ya own strength" she teases. Siryn will be getting the lamb and will be drinking down a lot of whiskey both before and after. If he wants her drunk, he may get his wish. Though she is Irish and so it may take a lot more than he expects. "Wade…when we first met at the shelter. Ya said you were there to see someone but ya never saw anyone. Why were ya there?"

It was a miniature flamethrower, not a full scale one. Small enough to fit inside one of the pockets in his belt. She's in no danger, not when he's around, at least not from intended danger. Coincidental danger is another story. "I don't? But I took the test at Coney Island. It called me a stud." He grins through his mask.

He'll drink some of his whiskey, drowning about half the bottle, which is impressive. Even more impressive, he doesn't seem to show any effects, and that stuff was expensive. "Smooth," he says as his throat burns with the fire of a thousand suns.

But then things turn serious. "Oh, er, if you gotta know… I kinda saw you on the street, and wanted to meet ya."

Okay… she wasn't expecting that admission. After a moment's surprise it actually makes her smile. "That's… that's very sweet of you" she finally replies before glancing down at her clothes. "But I wasn't even dressed to impress" she laughs before studying the masked man across the table from her. "I like you, Wade" she offers softly, "But I'm only eighteen and my experiences with… some things… have not been very prolific. So… umm… maybe we should take it a bit slower than what ya might be used to? I mean… if there is somewhere ya'd be wanting to move to."

That's how Deadpool rolls. He can be brutally honest. There isn't much he fears. Having his face seen sans mask is one of them. What he'd do to the guys behind Weapon X are another. Cows are a third… but that's it, well, mostly it.

"You don't need clothes to impress me," he says, then hears it in his own head, "that came out worse than I meant it to." He's frequently said worse, but this time he didn't mean it, honest.

He didn't think she was that young. She seems so much more mature, maybe not in her look, but in her bearing. "Are you sure there's nothing wrong with you?" Yeah, smooth Wade, smooth. "I mean, you don't sound like you're yanking my chain, and I can't figure out why. What would a girl like you want with a guy like me?"

The clothes comment gets a raised eyebrow but it's not as if he meant much by it… probably. A faint smile and a shrug shows 'apology' is accepted. She has to laugh at the question of what is wrong with her though. "There is plenty wrong with me" she admits, "But I don't think seeing the good in a man who isn't sure what he wants to be is 'wrong'. Ya've done nothing to make me think yer a freak or anything. I mean, sure, ya a smartarse but that I can handle. I ain't talking about marriage, Wade, I'm just talking about seeing where this can lead us… if anywhere. Not every girl gets an international trip on a first date."

"Crap, I did too much. How am I ever gonna top this on the second date, if I get a second date." He begins pondering this by raising a hand and ticking things off on his fingertips, "Disney World, Paris, Benidorm, Venice, Universal Studios, the Riviera, wait, no, I look terrible in a bathing suit, I wonder if my teleporter can reach the international space station? That'd be fun. I'll have to check with Weasel and get back to you on that one."

"I guess we can decide on a second date after we finish this one" Siryn suggests with a smile as the food arrives. "I'm starving" she sighs before getting stuck in! "How long have you been doing this?" she asks before immediately realising she should clarify. "The anti-villain thing… not the taking women out to dinner thing." There is a danger, of course, that Deadpool may know of her past… even if he doesn't know it is her.

Deadpool had to roll up his mask to drink the whiskey, and he's kept it at nose level, meaning the bottom half of his face, as well as a bit of neck is on display. Sexy, isn't it? He begins by taking a bite out of his burger, and speaks while chewing. Such manners, "I've been doing this for a few years now, ever since I got out of Weapon X." He doesn't care who knows his back story. He's not even sure if he remembers it correctly.

"When I found out about the cancer, oh, I have cancer. You should know that. So when I found out about it, they promised to cure me. It worked, kind of. I have a healing factor that's constantly fighting the cancer and keeping me alive. Isn't that funny?"

There is a bit of tragedy about Deadpool. The comedy masks it, but underneath, he's a tragic figure. "I didn't like the facilities at Weapon X, no bowling alley, no pool table, and they liked to use me as a human guinea pig, so I left. Ever since," he has some barbecue sauce dripping down his left cheek, "I've been doing the merc thing, using the skills I have to make a living. And then I met you."

"Weapon X? Ya quite free with ya 'secrets' there, Wade. I mean, you wear a mask but are happy to tell everyone your name and ya history. And I know ya don't look bad so why the mask." Though Siryn can't help but frown, and lose her appetite a bit, when talk turns to cancer. "I'm sorry to hear that but I'm glad it's under control. Not sure if it's funny though."

Siryn nods at the reasons for leaving. Perfectly reasonable! "Oh…ya have…" She half-heartedly points at the sauce on the cheek before biting the bullet and scooping it off his flesh. "Some sauce" she adds with a smile before sucking her finger clean. "Nice sauce."

"They're really protective of their secrets in Weapon X, which is part of the Weapon Plus program. X as in the Roman numeral, you know, ten, not as in the letter. But they screwed me, so I'm happy to tell everyone I meet about them. I'd put it on a billboard if I could. Hey, that's not a bad idea."

When she points at his face, he'll move to wipe it away, but she reaches for it first, and surprises him. She even tastes it. He nearly chokes on his burger when he sees her suck the barbecue sauce off of her slim finger. He decides to hold out the burger to her, "want a bite?" This chick is cool, really cool. What's wrong with her?

Siryn holds up a hand to decline the offer of half-eaten hamburgers. "That's sweet of ya but I have my own meal" she smiles warmly before tucking back in. There may be a slight slur in her voice after three pints and half a bottle of whiskey. Pushing her plate away she peers over at the pub proper behind Deadpool. "Sounds like the band are almost ready. Ya seem like the kind of guy who ain't afraid of dancing."

Deadpool takes another very large bite of his burger, gulping it down and not really chewing it as much as he should, before he gets up to walk with her towards the dance floor, "I ain't afraid of no ghosts, even if they are the ghosts of Christmas past." Yep, he's still wearing the Santa hat over his mask, which he pulls down over his lips, since he's not eating anymore.

This being Ireland… and in this neighbourhood… the band is pumping out pub rock - early U2, Stones, that kind of thing. So it's not full on dance music by any means but that's not going to stop Siryn bouncing up and down and shaking her teenage hips in a lewd fashion. She has some moves… must be all that sneaking around in the middle of the night robbing houses that helped make her so limber. But being a good Oirish girl she only grinds her butt against Deadpool on the third verse of songs only.

"Oh, yeah, I love U2!" Deadpool exclaims, and he dances to the music. He's probably not as good as he thinks he is, but he's got some moves. The healing factor helps. He's incredibly agile, athletic, and of course, flexible. But this song doesn't take advantage of that. It's 'with or without you'. Though as much as he's enjoying the song, he struggles to deal with Terry's grinding. He doesn't want to mess this up, but damn, she seems really into him. Again, what in Wakanda is wrong with this girl? She seems normal enough. He dances close to her, running his hands over her body during the appropriate parts, keeping his distance at others, but enjoying himself throughout.

Bulge! Bulges are flattering… right? No need to feel insulted or harassed. Though she can imagine the nuns having heart attacks at the sight… which is another good thing! But she doesn't overdo it. Though whether she would know if she was is another thing… she's actually a lot more innocent than she seems. At least in some things. A song like 'With or Without You' brings on the slow grind. The sensual gyrations… though she has more of an innocent smile than a seductive one. She's still working on that. But dancing is fun and Siryn is having a blast… with a masked man under a Santa hat.

It's a good thing that Wade wears a mask, or else he might have been blushing right now. As such, no one, besides Siryn, would have any idea what he was feeling right now. Innocent or not, she doesn't dance that way. The way she dances would suggest that she knows exactly what she's doing, and the speed of the song only seems to emphasise that. During the song, while she's facing away from him, he'll whisper, "best… date… ever…"

Siryn smiles at the whisper… though still looking away from him. She even blushes at those words. But quickly she recovers and when she turns back to face him she is all 'butter wouldn't melt in her mouth'. Though other parts of her seem to be melting… which is a sensation she hasn't really experienced in public before. "I guess we should get going" she whispers in return, her hands lightly on his hips. "Before we ruin it."

They've had a good time in Dublin, some nice food, good drink, and a lot of fun, but when Siryn suggests they get going, get going they will. With her hands still on his hips, he'll reach down between her hands to flick at his belt, which causes them to be enveloped in a teleportation field. Where they had stood inside the Buggered Goat, now they are back in New York. The teleporter had been set for Deadpool's home since he hadn't programmed in the coordinates of the shelter in mutant town. "So, where to next?" He doesn't know where she wants to go, but they're currently in a foyer of a larger room, with a huge freakkin' statue of Doctor Octopus looming over them. There seems to be several doors, some open, others not.

That's going to take some getting used to. One minute inside the Buggered Goat, the next inside a maniac's lair… which was formerly another maniac's lair. She's a bit wobbly on her feet after the trip but manages to steady herself without too much embarrassment. "I go home and you stay here" she replies before looking around them. "Not that I know where here is. Can I get a cab called here?" She stares up at the giant statue. "Wow… that's… that's quite an ego that man has."

"I know, isn't it great?" says Deadpool, evidentially quite pleased with the place. He doesn't actually know if it was Doc Ock's base, but that's what he was told when he bought it, and the stature seems legitimate. Then again, it could have been a realtor trick to get him to pay more. "Where's home, I can program it into the teleporter." That thing is a wonder of our age, and for some reason, Weasel didn't sell it to Hewlett Packard or Google, he let Deadpool use it. What's up with that?

"I'll get a cab" Siryn assures Deadpool. "I wouldn't want ya prowling around my house or anything." That teleportation is dangerous! He could just appear in her bedroom and start watching her sleep…or watch her do worse. "Thank you for a wonderful night, Wade. I hope we can see each other soon." She looks around. "How do I get out of here?"

When she won't let him take her home, Wade does the next best thing, and calls a cab on the phone in one of the pockets on his belt, "yeah, hello, I need a cab," and he'll give the address of one of the exits, "fifteen minutes, great." Then he reaches for the bag, remembering that he left in the shelter. He'll pat his pockets, "crap, I left all my money in the homeless shelter," and then, with a poof, he disappears. He's gone for about 2 minutes, leaving Siryn alone in Casa del Pulpo, or the Octopus House.

When he reappears, he's holding the bag, "you should probably take this home with you. I had to break the lock on the locker. Sorry about that. Besides, your present is in here." And he'll make a point of taking some of the money to give to her for the cab, and crap, that man, he disappears again.

Another minute later, he reappears, "I forgot to pay in Ireland, so I fixed it."

One day Siryn will kill him… in a nice way. "You broke the…" Then he's gone again. And when back. "And you didn't pay the bill." Standing there with a bag of money she sighs, "I guess I'll be paying for a new lock. So how do I get to the cab?" She offers him a warm smile before placing a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you again." Siryn starts heading off with a sway to her teenage hips and toned ass. "This one?" she asks, pointing to a tunnel. "Or another one?"

Deadpool says, "I'm sure you can afford it. There's gotta be enough to build a couple of new shelter in that bag." And he'll walk with her, leading her out to the address he suggested to the cab company, and low and behold, the cab will be waiting when they get up there. Along the way, she kisses him on the cheek, which makes him blush through his mask, "a guy could get used to this feeling."

"Not /too/ used to it" Siryn smirks, "I'd like it to always cause a little tingle." She gets into the cab and winds down the window to give him a proper wave. "Take care, Wade. And thank you for the present." She has no idea what it is but it's always polite to thank anyway. A finger wave to Deadpool before she leans over to whisper the destination to the cabbie…and only the cabbie has any chance of hearing it. The taxi pulls away.

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