Clubbing with Shillelaghs

January 31, 2015: Deadpool abducts Terry so they can go dancing

Club deVile

Also known as the Midtown Nightclub, Club deVile looks and operates just like a typical higher end club. Unlike most others, this one happens to have a secret which many never come to realize. For those fortunate enough to have 'back room access,' deVile is also a functioning safehouse for some of the city's villain figures.

In order to maintain this secret there are very strict rules regarding conflict within the club proper, the last thing the owners want here is attention.



Mood Music:

Most people use the Tri-City Corridor's public transportation to go between as far flung places as New York and Metropolis, but Deadpool isn't most people. He has a teleporter, and he loves to use it. So when he surprised Terry at the gym, she had no idea he planned to take her so far from home, but now they appear, inside the nightclub, as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

Between the strobe lights, few would notice them, but one minute there was empty space, and the next, they were inside the club. And Deadpool, without missing a beat, begins dancing to the music, keeping his movements subtle, hands not too far out. He's not a great dancer, but by keeping his movements simple and subtle, he tries not to make himself look too badly.

Looking at Terry, who didn't even get to shower, he smirks through the mask, "welcome to Metropolis, first time in the Big Apricot?"

One second all sweaty after a heavy workout. The next in a nightclub full of sweaty people. At least there is a link… albeit a sweaty one. "I'm where?" she asks, wide eyed as she looks around. "For fooks sake, Wade, 'ave you seen how I'm dressed!" Her runners, tight emerald yoga pants and yellow t-shirt may look good in the gym but on a fancy nightclub dance floor they look a bit lacking. She's unsure what to do but… loud music… thumping beat… masked man dancing in front of her. Or at least doing some kind of subtle epileptic fit. "Fine" she sighs before offering him a smile as she starts to dance. At least she's a bit better at it. "Wade… one day I will kick ya arse for this kind of thing" she smirks, and her voice is perfectly audible to him despite all the noise of a nightclub. "Metropolis? Aye, first time."

At the invitation to look at how she's dressed, Wade takes a good look, dancing around her so he can get it from all angles. "Yeah, I have, and you're the best dressed one here." Curiously, he's not the only person in costume. Maybe this place is having a fancy dress night, or it caters to the suerpowered element.

He really is bad at this, he's not even dancing to the correct music. It's like he can hear his own beat in his head, and he's dancing to that. "You may have to get in linfe for that, Terry. I think there's a waiting list of people wanting to do that from here to Timbuktu. Okay, it doesn't reach Timbuktu, but I just like saying Timbuktu, don't you? Timbuktu." Yeah, he says it one last time for no reason other than he likes it.

"I prefer akimbo" Siryn laughs, throwing in a little grind once he's behind her. Sure it's naughty but there's music and she has a thing for sound. "Best dressed? I doubt anyone who spent hundreds of dollars on their dress will agree with ya there." She has a look around at all the wealthy folk in their wealthy clothes… or masks and spandex. "A momentary look of apprehension crosses her face. "Is this one of them BDSM clubs, Wade?" It's only a half-serious question but with Deadpool it needs to be asked. But then it's back to the music and just having a great time. At least her pants let her move pretty well… and show off everything as it does so.

"Akimbo?" Wade asks sarcastically, "you mean the martial art?" He actually does know what it means, but it's more fun to act confused. In fact, he starts singing, "everybody was Kung Fu fighting," and he'll roll his index fingers against her as if he were playing a xylophone or whatever instrument is in that song.

The grinding puts a pause to that though, and he pretends to fan himself, saying in a faux southern accent, "why Terry, I do perspire." He will continue dancing, but they both know what she felt there, and it wasn't sweat. "Why didn’t you say so Terry? I would've taken you shopping. Let's start with lingerie?"

He's teasing, but then there's the comment about the club, "oh no, this is my knitting club. It's the Knitters and Supervillains club, or, Knitters and guys who want to be supervillains club. Hank Scorpio is my all-time favourite Simpsons character."

"Who da fuck is Hank Scorpio?" replies Siryn with all the delicacy of her Irish criminal upbringing. Oh well… just keep dancing, Terry. Just keep dancing. So she does. Though there is also a glare about the lingerie. "And I suppose you'll be in the fitting room trying to…" A glance back at the bulge she encountered when grinding. "… fit me?" A wicked giggle and a wink before back to the dancing.

"I love this song!" Siryn yells out, though to Wade it may just sound like a bunch of beeps and bops being played in a random fashion by a deaf monkey. "Wait… supervillains?" She looks around again with slight more apprehension. "You'd better be teasing, Wade Wilson." Uh-oh, she used both names. "Any chance of a drink?"

You can't expect Deadpool to overlook an opportunity like that. Of course he begins to sing the theme song, "Scorpio! He'll sting you with his dreams of power and wealth. Beware of… Scorpio! His twisted twin obsessions are his plot to rule the world and his employees' health. He'll welcome you into his lair, like the nobleman welcomes his guest, with free dental care and a stock plan that helps you invest! But beware of his generous pensions, plus three weeks paid vacation each year, and on Fridays, the lunchroom serves hot dogs and burgers and beer! He loves German beer! Scorpio!" And before he can get too far into a second course, she probably shuts him up with a laugh, a jab, a poke, or hand to the mask, where his lips are.

"All right, all right, first we drink, then I'll try and fit you with the clothes, or whatever it was you said." No comment is made about the supervillains thing, but he'll lead her towards the back room. You have to be a card carrying villain to get in there, or with one, and Wade's got the creds. They'll find a booth there, and soon a waitress will swing by.

Does a glare work as a song stopper? If Siryn's green eyes of silence don't work then she discretely creates a sound bubble around his head so that nothing he says can be heard by anyone but him. So, while Deadpool thinks he is entertaining the world, the world doesn't have to put up with it. When it seems he has finished then it disappears as quickly as it appeared.

Off to the back room it is then! "Wade? Why do ya want to get into me pants so much?" She is a strange mix of innocent and forthright. Once settled at the booth she asks the waitress for a Guinness… and keep 'em coming. Whiskey chaser too if'n she doesn't mind. "So what ya been up to lately, Deadpool? Do I have to call ya Deadpool in here?"

That sound bubble thing would be torture for Deadpool if he ever found out she could do it. He's nothing if not a man who likes an audience. But the darn thing about it is that Deadpool knows who he is, who he really is, and that somebody can heard every word he speaks, every thought he thinks, and every sound he makes. Even when he farts, someone knows about it. So there. Smooth, Deadpool, very smooth.

To Terry's question, he answers, "because I think I have the legs for them? And Terry, you can call me anything you want, even Mr. Bigglesworth," which is another reference that's probably almost as old as she is. "Except I'm not a cat, or hairless, or am I, I forget?"

"I have a hairless pussy" Siryn offers nonchalantly. If he wants to try and shock his date, he shouldn't be stepping out with an Irish girl. "Mr Bigglesworth is an odd name to choose though" she adds before shrugging and downing half a pint of beer. "Well if'n you want my pants then ya just have to ask. But I can't be taking them off here… might get embarrassing for folk if'n ya know what I mean." A pause. "And ya still haven't told me what ya been up to. I haven't seen ya for a week or something."

Wow, Siryn can not only keep up with Deadpool, but even surprise him. That's pretty damn rare. He nearly chokes at that nonchalant admission, though who knows it there's any truth to it, or just her trying to get a rise out of him.

He was having such a good time, he forgot to order a drink for himself, but when the waitress passes by, he'll ask for a Caffrey's Irish Ale, which earns him a blank stare, "all right, fine, I'll have a Guinness too." Shaking his head, he says, "I miss that beer. How come they don't sell it in the US anymore?"

As for her pants, and the talk about where he's been, he shrugs, "I was in Moscow. Dirty city. Terrible language. Good Vodka though. And…" he whispers something in her ear.

"Do I look like I can speak French?" Siryn snorts to his whisper. "For all I know ya just told me you spend three days doing laundry." She looks over his costumed form. "Actually. Do you ever take that off?" Another sip of her beer.

"They stopped selling Caffrey's because Americans can only drink beer that has negative percent alcohol in it" Siryn surmises. "Moscow? For good reasons I hope. Though it mustn't be very exciting for ya, all this teleporting. Where is the excitement of going to tha airport? The looking down at interesting countries as you travel over them? Actually seems a bit sad. The trip is as important as the destination."

"Yes," he says defensively, and then "no," he says sadly, before, "it depends. I have like fifty of them, so when I do my laundry, it takes three days, but I only do it once every two months."

Then he stares at her, blankly, sounding and looking sincere, or as sincere as a guy in a mask can look. "Air-port? I'm not familiar with this term." He's pretending to be ignorant. Of course he knows what an airport is. Snakes on a Plane is one of his favourite movies.

"Okay, next place we go, we'll take the airport. Besides, I've heard of this exclusive club I want to join. Sky Mall Club? Wait, no, that went out of business. Mile High City? No, that's Denver. I'm sure I'll remember it eventually. Just give me a minute here."

"It's called the 'Try Anything and You Get Kicked Out of the Plane Club'" Siryn explains, "But since it's such a mouthful it never really took off." She laughs, "Get it. Took off?" Siryn can make as bad a joke as anyone. "Oh? Are we going somewhere? And will we be paying for da tickets with honestly earned money? Do ya know what honestly earned money is?" She drains her first beer and grabs a whiskey chaser. That's downed in one go. "Ya not a bad person, Waldo… Wade.. .oh… should I say ya not a bad person in this place?"

Wacky Wade got her joke, and he even chuckles, "hehe, took off, hehe," It wasn't that funny, but for some reason it tickled him in just the right way, or maybe it was that Guinness. But beer doesn't affect him except in large quantities. He's probably just humouring her.

"We could, where do you want to go?" He's willing to pay for tickets for her, but he doesn't know why. He has a teleporter, but she seems to think sitting in coach, between two babies, will be fun. She's weird. "And yeah, of course I know what honestly earned money is. I take it from people all the time. But sometimes I make it myself, I mean, you know, I earn it, or whatever you kids are calling it these days."

"In this place, I'm positively heroic. Look at that table, there's a guy who tried to destroy the ozone layer, a guy who hijacked a plane, and eww, is that Dick Cheney? He scares the bejeebers out of me."

Siryn spots the Dick Cheney look alike and stands, leaning over the table to get more oomph to her yelling. "Cheney! Yer a bum!! Why don't ya see what it's like on minimum wage, ya fucker!!" She could have vocalized her opinion in a lot more damaging way but thankfully it was just words this time.

Sitting herself back down she sighs and looks to Wade. "If this place is filled with that kind of people then I'm not sure I want to stay. I… well… me an supervillains have got a history I don't want revisited." Though there is another beer and chaser sitting there and she wouldn't want to waste it. "As soon as I 'ave this drink… both of them… we leave. Okay?"

Deadpool is pretty sure it's just a bald old guy, but it's neat that Siryn got into the spirit alongside him. She's surprisingly cool. Most people don't seem to enjoy his company like this, and even fewer get in on the fun. "Terry, have I ever told you how great you are?"

And he means it. She can drink with the best of them, never seems to get upset at anything he does. "Okily dokily, once you finish them, we're off to see the wizard, or anyone else you wanna see."

Siryn shrugs at his question, even blushing a bit. "Oh… every now and then" she admits, "But not sure why. And ya alright too, Wade. Ya'd be better if ya didn't hang around places like this and did horrible things for money but… ya got a good heart." A pause. "Just don't make me have to rip it out one day to remind you by showing it to ya" she smirks before more beer is downed. "You can walk me home when we're done. Walk!" Her eyes narrow. "Except we're in da wrong fookin city."

That can easily be rectified. Wade had paid for their drinks as they were served, so there was no bill to take care of. But he did leave a tip, tossing some money onto the table for the waitress. He then grabbed Siryn around the waist, and hit the switch on his belt. In a flash of light, they disappeared, just as the Dick Cheney look-a-like was about to give them a piece of his former vice presidential mind.

When the light dims, they're positioned exactly as they were before, except here there's no table, so of course they fall backwards, onto their butts. Wade pulls Siryn in, helping to cushion her fall with his own body, "Not anymore," he says meaning they're in the right city now, or was it the good heart thing he was responding to? One can never tell with Deadpool.

"I hadn't finished me chaser" Siryn points out as she slowly gets to her feet. "Warnings are good, Wade" she laughs as she brushes her yoga pant clad backside clean. Then she is pointing to the north. "That way. Couple of blocks. Think ya can be a gentleman for a couple of blocks" she teases before offering her arm.

"If you want, we could go back," Wade offers, "or, I'm sure there's a liquor store around here, somewhere." He rises to his own feet, but does take a moment to watch her dust herself off. Taking her arm in his, he leans in, bending so his head briefly brushes against hers, before saying, "I tried being a lady, but I don't have the right equipment for it, and people kept asking me, no, please stop. Of course, I was waving my katanas at the time, so that might have said something to do with it. But I can be a gentleman, if that's what you want, Terry." He'll walk with her, heading north.

"Wade. The only proof I have that you're a man is yer name… and that ain't much proof. Everything else could have been faked" Siryn smiles as they wander casually up the street. She purses her lips in thought before nodding. "I could probably do with another bottle at home. I go through them quickly lately." There is a liquor store on the way and purchases are made. The neighbourhood is quite poor and there are numerous people on the sidewalk… sleeping rather than walking. Occasionally Siryn will stop to tell them where the nearest shelter is. Unfortunately there is not room for all of them so only the worst are helped in this way.

Siryn is definitely not a cheap date. First he's got to pay for the teleportation, that takes power, and it's not free. Then there's the booze at the nightclub, and the booze at the liquor store, and now there are homeless people, sleeping on the street. The ones that Terry doesn't direct to a shelter, Wade will give enough money for a hotel. He's not usually the generous type, but Terry, she seems to bring it out of him. "There you homeless Joe," he says after giving two hundreds to one of the guys sleeping. That should be more than enough for a room at most places. Soon, they'll reach Terry's place.

Siryn is always torn when Deadpool hands out money like that. She knows his heart is in the right place so doesn't want to overreact but the hard fact is that most of those people will take that money and drink or drug themselves into an even worse state. But she says nothing tonight. After about twenty minutes they reach a cheap block of apartments and Siryn stops in front of the door. "Here we are. Home sweet home" she smiles before adding, "Oh… thank ya for the bear. It was very cute. It sleeps with me every night." She takes a deep breath, looking shy and bashful. "So thank ye for an unusual night."

Deadpool's that kind of a guy. He does good things, sometimes, but in bad ways, or with bad results. It's only when he does bad things that good things seem to happen, at least most of the time. There was that one time at band camp, wait, no, it was in Antarctica, on Antarctica, whatever, he did a job, and nearly irradiated a hemisphere. So he saved them, and nobody bothered to give him credit for saving half the world from the danger he accidentally put them in. Go figure.

Leaning in, Wade will give her a gentle peck on the cheek, like a gentleman, and besides, it's through a mask. "You're welcome. It was fun. We gotta do it again sometime. And awe, you sleep with my bear? Lucky bear. I'm jealous of the little guy. I wonder if it's alive, you know, like Ted. That was a good movie. I wish I had a talking teddy bear who I could do cocaine with." Not that he does drugs, mind, but he jokes about it.

Siryn listens… and then sighs. "No, Wade, no ya don't" she smiles with the patience of a saint. She also gives him a kiss on his masked cheek before glancing back at the complex door. "Give me a call later?" she asks sweetly before releasing his hands and heading inside. One last look from the doorway before she disappears inside - she really needs to catch up on what she needs to catch up on!

Of course he doesn't, and it's nice that she knows that about him. She can already cut straight through his bullshit. That probably doesn't bode well for him long term. If it's this easy, this early on, she may get bored of him. But for now, she seems to like him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. He'll briefly take her hand in his, but he'll let her go, letting the teenage girl go with the booze he bought for her. What's up with that? Once she disappears inside, he'll take another long look at the building, and engage the teleporter.

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