Bus Stops and Burgers

June 07, 2015:

Zoe arrives in NYC and Psylocke shows up to drive her home, strangeness ensues

Bus station

A bus station in New York

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

Betsy loves her car. It gave her no end of pleasure to find that it'd been carefully stored in her absence (read: death) in a garage in Westchester. A genuine Aston Martin, a graduation gift from the executors of her family trust. Horsepower to spare, sleek lines, it's precisely the sort of vehicle one would expect a model-slash-aristocrat on 'vacation' in America to drive. Representing Britain abroad, and such.

Betsy tears down the highway going probably a bit too fast, making it to New York in record time. She finds a parking garage not far from the bus terminal and parks, paying the extortionate hourly rates, and starts legging it to the bus station. It's about a half-mile of quick-stepping through New York, and while she catches an admiring eye or two, no one seems to have the audacity to leer or whistle at her. It might have something to do with the towering model's angry, stone-set face, a harsh combination of Asiatic features and British stoicism. She opens the bus station door and walks in, looking for Zoe with a pan of her head.

Zoe stood up and had a bit of a sheepish expression on her face when she saw Psylocke. She didn't really know who else to call and figured her and the rest of the staff was probably a little ticked off she didn't return with the rest of the field trip that went to a scientific conference for the day in Gotham. But here she was in one piece wearing a black button up shirt with some jeans and sneakers. "Hey Ms. Braddock. Look I can totally explain why I didn't come home yesterday like I was supposed to. I was kinda helping to stop an alien invasion!" She said and then lowered her voice a little as she got weird looks from the late night crowd.

It was lonely work waiting for a mark to appear, but that's what Deadpool was doing. He was currently wearing one of his world famous disguises, dressed as a bum who was sleeping on a bench. A black leather coat, torn and ratty, was draped over his front, and below, he used several newspapers for a blanket. Sticking out from the newspaper, hmm, the dollar went up against the Canadian. That must suck for Canada. Oh well, peeking out from under the newspaper blanket were two mismatched shoes. One was an old Adidas sneaker in white with red trim, and the other looked like an army boot. Tucked into them was what looked like rain pants. Further up, he had one gloves, also mismatched. One was leather with holes. Interesting. Red fingertips. It was almost as if he wore a glove underneath his glove. The other one was a work glove, the kind you might wear when using a table saw or something similar. It held onto the handle of a large case, like the kind you'd store a musical instrument in. As for his face, it was hidden from view. The hat he wore covered it, but there was trails of a beard, grey, white, and black, kind of halphazardly strewn together. And he smelt. Oh god did he smell. Was he even alive? Yeah, waiting for a mark to appear was a lonely job, but somebody had to do it.

Betsy holds a hand up imperiously to forestall Zoe's comments. "It's fine, Zoe. I don't accept many excuses for missing training, but, genuine hero-working is what you're /training/ to master. So. Don't make a habit of it, but no extra laps today." She shifts her weight in her $400 wasp-yellow shoes, her left arm hooked into the strap of her tidy little purse. "Have you found food yet? Or do you need to eat before we drive back?" Even with Betsy freewheeling in the Aston, it's a good ninety minute drive back to Westchester.

Zoe was a little surprised she didn't get a scolding. Her expression was that of someone who was ready to let loose a torrent of excuses and reasons why it was a good thing but that almost sounded like Betsy was happy with her. "Oh maybe we could get some tacos or a slice.. I saw there's a few places still open when I was riding in on the bus." She said with a half smile and leaned forward and suddenly hugged her briefly. "Thanks for being cool about it Ms. Braddock." She said before letting go and looking at her with perhaps even more adoration. "Anything happen at the school today while I was gone?"

The man called Deadpool shifts on his bench. There is the sound of a rattling beer can, empty as it hits the floor, and he grunts, moaning, and rubbing at his mask under that hat of his. It's a good disguise. Most people would avert their eyes. Most people wouldn't notice that there is some colour underneath the props. But then he squints, and gasps, he's actually quiet, not talking at all, and then he lets loose with some very PG profanity, saying things like 'mother hugger', 'fudge', 'cramp', and some other colourful euphemisms, but his meaning is clear. "This is the 42nd street station, not the 24th street station. I've been waiting here for a week." Who's he talking to? It's not clear, but he begins to rip away the disguise in disgust at his own mistake, "dan nab it, what was I thinking?" And then he sets his eyes on Psylocke, and he says in his best voice, like he could charm looking like a half drunk, homeless bum, "where did you come from?"

Betsy grimaces and doesn't return Zoe's hug. "Manners, Zoe, manners," she says, crisply, attempting to back her up with a level stare from her brilliant amethyst eyes. Betsy has some strong notions about propriety around her students. Hugging does not fall under the category of 'things one does', at least, not for the leggy Brit.

Maybe Logan's a hugger.

Betsy starts walking with a business-like pace, not checking to see if Zoe can keep up. "Come along, Zoe. But not tacos. You can have a low-carb burrito."

Normally, she'd blow past Deadpool without even acknowledging the man, but she glances at him sidelong. Rather primly, she says, "Around the corner. Do pay more attention," in her crispest of accents, without breaking stride.

Zoe expected her to turn into the hug police but didn't seem to care obviously thinking the instructors kindness tonight was deserving of it. She seemed a little confused about the comment of tacos though. "Whats wrong with a taco and why a 'low carb burrito' better? How the heck do you even make a low carb burrito?" She said perplexed and then looked towards Deadpool and then back to Betsy, then once more at Deadpool. "Uhh Ms.Braddock is that homeless guy wearing red spandex? I think I might've gotten knocked around more than I thought."

"I gotta see for myself this 'Around the Corner' place," and he continues disrobing, well, removing the costume. Soon, he's back in his classic black and red threads. One person even says, "hey, it's Spider-Man," which Deadpool corrects, "No, no, no, it's Man-Spider. In fact, if you see me again, remind me of it, will ya? Thanks, you're a pal. Man-Spider's Pal." Heblows past Psylocke and Zoe, peeking around the corner, "hey, nothing's here. It's just a big empty space. Though it does have potential. A nice throw pillow there, a bear skin rug over here, I could put the fireplace over there, yeah, this could work." And then he remembers something. He slaps the top of his head, "I forgot my gun. Wait a second," and he'll head back over to where he left the musical instrument case.

Betsy is just starting to give Zoe a perplexed frown (which doesn't look much different from her angry or indifferent frown, to be honest) when Deadpool starts sauntering back and forth. Rambling, at that, and mostly incoherently. She follows his path around them and one eyebrow ticks up. One of the few, few advantages of their industry is that color schemes read like personal heraldry- and a giant, heavily-armed man in black and red with a penchant for personal narrative certainly stands out.

She grabs Zoe's upper arm in a firm grip, frog-marching her along. 'His name is Deadpool,' Betsy explains, pushing her thoughts to Zoe. 'He's an assassin and a mercenary. Unutterably gifted and completely mad. Don't antagonize him and you should be fine.' She keeps walking with that brisk pace, as if hoping Deadpool will find something shiny and just… wander off.

Zoe blinked as Psylocke spoke directly into her mind, that always felt weird especially considering thanks to her own mutation she always kept her body so well ordered so something outside of her control always made her itch a little. Nodding her head as she looked back at Deadpool as if trying to get an idea what was so dangerous and actually laughs a little at his comment. "Aww c'mon Ms.Braddock that was kinda funny. You know this is the second time in two days I've been gah, man handled by an older woman." She said stumbling almost as she's nearly dragged. "Got to meet SHIELD agent May she did the same thing."

Deadpool isn't really completely mad. Nobody is completely mad. In fact, he can be downright affable at times. He's rescued his fair share of kittens out of trees, and if it weren't for his heal-o-factor 5000, he'd have the scars to prove it. But he's definitely not the kind of person you want to get on the bad side. Treat him with respect, don't steal from him, hurt him, doublecross him, or antagonise him as Betsy put it, and you're probably all right. Offer him something shiny and he might even help you. Folded money is shiny to him, no matter what other people might think. Finding his gun in the musical instrument case, he puts it into some holster on his thigh and he chases after the pair, calling out, "they're not older women, they're just Asians in the middle category. Asians are a funny people, especially women. They have three ages. The first one is the teenage girl. Usually flat chested, sometimes wearing glasses, long hair, dressing fairly plain. That's how they start out. I think they come out of the womb that way. Next, you have the hotness phase. That's clearly where this purple haired lady is, and so is Agent May if I've been keeping up with my Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. That can last for thirty, even forty-years. Just look at Lucy Liu. But eventually, they get to the third phase. They shrink down to about 4'8", their hair goes grey, and they all start looking like a grandmother."

Betsy rolls her eyes at Zoe's persistent flirting. Well, she rolls her eyes internally. Her face remains almost inscrutable. Mostly. With a steady click-click-click of her bright yellow heels, she keeps trucking along. A wary look crosses her face when Deadpool pulls up, listening to his tirade despite herself.

Betsy makes a sound that /almost/ sounds like an aborted, choked laugh. Almost. But nothing about her face or body language changes, nor her stride. Maybe she's just gassy. But she absolutely wasn't laughing at Deadpool's antics.

Zoe get dragged along still as it felt like Betsy was moving even faster and her grip on that arm of hers getting tighter. Like any good high-school teenager she got a bit of a snicker out of one of her instructors being teased a little as she looked up at Betsy. "Do you know Agent May? It was her and Huntress and then like some guy with a ton of wolves that I met the first day. But you wouldn't believe what happened the second day I even got to ride on a jet. It was like freaking awesome, I mean I only got a taste of the world the JLA people live in, but wow."

Deadpool, like a curious dog, seems to follow Zoe and Betsy. He's not getting much out of the purpled haired assassin, but the high school girl seems fairly normal. "Leaving on a jet plane? Why does that sound so familiar? No, don't tell me, it's better if I figure it out on my own." Scratching his chin through his mask, "it would be nice to fly. I'll have to get Weasel to make me a jet pack. I just hope it doesn't burn off my legs. That hurts like hell, and it takes like ten whole minutes for them to grow back. Talk about a pain in the butt, right? So, what's your name, and who's the angry Asian chick?"

"We've met," Betsy nods at Zoe, finally releasing that death-grip on Zoe's upper arm once Deadpool proves out to not be on the warpath. At least he's not bothering her as much. "May and Huntress are both excellent professionals. I'd not advise irritating either one."

She frowns minutely, head panning around as if looking for someone she's expecting- up and down the street, then of all things, she checks the rooftops with a quick flicker of her eyes. Coming up on the door to the authentic cafeterie, she stops immediately outside it, Zoe next to her. The door gets a look. Then Wade gets a very pointed look. If there was ever a chance for Wade to impress Betsy with any semblance of manners, this might be it.

Zoe give Deadpool a little wave as shes finally freed as they arrive at the place of getting food. "Oh I'm Zoe and this is one of my teachers who might torture me physically if I give her name away." She said with a little laugh and then looked back to Psylocke. "You never did answer about the low-carb burrito thing, don't think I forgot about it. I mean what is it just like lettuce instead of a tortilla or something?" She looked to Deadpool and then back to Psylocke. "Oh don't worry I made friends they even let me help out with a problem they were having.. But I think I kinda got on Hawkeyes bad side a little by running off during a mission.. But it wasn't totally my fault. The rest of them couldn't see it but I had to hurry."

The glances upwards are somewhat rewarded as distantly a black silhouette might be noticed or perhaps even 'heard' by those with particular gifts. Landing upon the lip of the apartment building that overlooks the eatery, Agent Venom is little more than an extension of shadow upon the edge of that building. For a moment, two, he considers the situation and then perhaps Elizabeth might hear a slight thought tha t is hurled into the ether with great effort.
« Testing. Testing… is this thing on? Elizabeth if you can hear me. Is that Deadpool? »
From his position high above, the Agent frowns to himself and then curiously, for some reason… he starts to unsling each of his firearms, placing them against the wall of the roof and then covering them with a /thwip/'s worth of webbing.

"Might is suggest you partake of the awesome gastronomical perfection that is the chimichanga? They really are a magical meal." Little known fact that Deadpool isn't particularly fond of Chimichangas, he just likes to say the word. He likes it so much that he's learned how to say it in seventeen different languages. Now that'd dedication. "And Zoe, if your teacher's are torturing you, you gotta torture them right back, or you know, call someone, like the Ghostbusters, or maybe the Men in Black. I loved Tom and Will in that."

"That's very true, dear. I would torture you," Betsy informs Zoe with an affirming nod. When Deadpool doesn't hop-to and open the door, Betsy exhales testily and steps behind Zoe, opening the door for the girl and shooing her inside. She walks through with her head up and back stiff, propelling Zoe along and physically intercedeing between her ward and the mercenary.

'Good god above, Flash, you have wonderful timing. It is indeed Deadpool. Don't come down here if your ego is easily bruised- he's the sort to strumpet about just to hear his voice'.

"A low-carb burrito means we get it on a /flour/ tortilla instead of a corn one," she tells Zoe. "No chips, no beans, no rice. Just fresh vegetables. You can have all the meat and cheese you want, though," she advises the girl. "We need to up your protein intake if you want to start building more muscle."

Zoe shrugged a little. "But I mean I can just focus and make more muscle. Why would I work to get more by eating so much meat? I like carbs!" She said almost with a bit of a pout. "Ohh Isn't a chimichanga like a deep fried burrito?" She looked to Psylocke with passion in her eyes. "That kinda sounds amazing, can we get one? With like sour cream and hot sauce and stuff? Ohmygosh I'm so hungry I didn't realize I haven't been eating at like all since I was in Gotham. I guess it was all just too exciting." She said still a little giddy from her recent adventure. "I mean you were right Ms. Braddock being wild and adventurous is way more fun then studying."

« Yah we kinda have met before, » There's a pause as the black figure rises up to his full height and then he presses his thoughts and memories hard to the surface as he says, « He can be a decent guy. Just go with the flow. »
And then he makes his descent. Stepping off into the void and bending into a smooth flip, his body turns and he lashes out with one arm to fire a webline. The black ichor tightens, slowing his descent and then he lands with a light thip-thap upon ground some distance behind the trio of them.
Gaining his feet and smiling behind that black balaclava, Venom lifts his voice, "Mr. Deadpool. Hey, it's been a dog's age."

If Deadpool remembers Agent Venom, he doesn't show it. He greets the guy like any celebrity greeting a fan, "right back at'cha." He even offers a wink and a thumbs up. "Nice costume, does Man-Spider know you're infringing on his copyrights?" Man-Spider? It's an in-joke. You had to be there. "Keep hanging in there, you'll get it down eventually kid. Now, Zoe, let's see about getting you a low carb, deep fried something or other." He seems to have forgotten the ice princess for the moment.

"You have to learn how to be healthy without using your talents to shortcut," Betsy tells Zoe. "Long term, we don't know what your gifts will do to you- if they'll have side effects or problems or fade away or turn into something else entirely. It's been known to happen. If you make a practice of building a foundation of health, everything else you do becomes that much more efficient."

Does she have that speech memorized? She might. When Venom lands and Deadpool turns away, Betsy catches Flash's eye and grins at him. It's a short expression, but real, with genuine affection in it. Meant only for him, it's gone before anyone else can notice, lingering only in her amethyst eyes and his memory.

"Mister Deadpool," Betsy says, looking to Pooly again. "I…" she considers something. "I actually need your help," she says blandly. Okay, so she's not a /great/ liar. "I'm trying to show Zoe here that heroes require a healthy, balanced diet. If you could order an appropriate menu item so she can… follow your /sterling/ example, I'd personally be /very/ grateful." Her attempt to flirt a little comes across with about as much sex appeal as a robot.

Zoe took a moment to order her food as she looked to Deadpool. "So you're like a Mercenary right? How come you do that instead of being a hero or just going full bad guy and like robbing banks or whatever? Seems like a weird middle-ground." She stopped a moment. "Is it just so you have an equal chance to hit on heroines and villains? Cause that comment about my teachers bod kinda gave away your extra-hetero status." But what came next kinda stopped her in her tracks as Betsy addressed Deadpool and actually asked him to be a good role model. Her expression something along the lines of a mother attempting to talk to their teens friends about safe sex kinda teenage reaction.

Straightening up fully and then taking a few steps for. "You like it? I was thinking of adding some red to it." Venom offers that as he casually touches the center of the combat harness he's wearing. He steps towards Elizabeth and Deadpool, standing near them and somewhat in between as he looks to them. "I met him some time ago, it was a fight amongst some maggia bosses if I recall correctly."
Flash turns to look towards Deadpool and gives a nod, "He was pretty smooth, I learned a few techniques." He steps towards Deadpool, "I can understand if you don't remember, though. For me it was probably a great moment in my life. But for you, well… it was probably just Tuesday."

Psylocke comes across as a robot. But Deadpool chooses to think of the robot called Valerie from that episode of the Outer Limits, the one where she seduced a much younger William Sadler. But anyway, a request was made, and a wish was granted. "All right, healthy meal?" He's not actually a hero, in fact, he's kind of the opposite. There's not a lot of a heroism in the assassination business. But life needs all types. "I'm not bad, I'm just drawn that way." Funny, when Jessica Rabbit said it, she made it sound sexy. Deadpool just makes it sound funny. "Besides, I'm definitely in that cushy, rent controlled grey area. I'm no saint, but I'm really good at killing people. Most of the time they deserve it, but as they say, you can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs. But yeah, in future, I think I'm gonna use that line about the equal chance thing. Now, a healthy meal. Does it have to be a healthy meal for everyone, or can it be a healthy meal for those of us with the healing factor. I could probably eat pure lard for a month and still survive… Tuesday? Oh, were you the kid sidekick I signed an autograph for after saving your life?"

Betsy swears at herself silently. "Just for my student, Mr. Deadpool," she says crisply. "If you pick out something suitably healthy for her, I'll happily buy you lunch."

'Zoe, I hope you're taking notes. When facing some opponents, discretion is the better part of valor. No one will ever say you died valiantly if you were only guarding your ego from bruising.'

She drifts away from the two of them, leaving Zoe to engage with Deadpool as best she is able. As if by utter coincidence, she ends up standing next to Flash, studiously avoiding staring at him- though if looks could kill, her peripheral vision could probably knock a man on his ass at twenty-paces.

Zoe seemed to be having a moment giggling a bit as she said to herself. "Man-Spider." Then laughed a little again apparently the old joke hitting her again. In that moment Zoe absorbs another word of wisdom from Psylocke as she sighed. "H..hey I had to hurry I told ya! If I didn't the guy was gonna die…Even though he did explode anyways after I saved him.. But i did get the sample we needed to save Gotham!" She said in some attempt to get the last word before resigning herself. "Yes i understand Ms. Braddock." Looking back to Deadpool. "Are you actually gonna play this game with my teacher and make me eat right?" She said staring him down a moment head tilted back as if a tumbleweed could roll by and some music from a spaghetti western could start playing.

"That's so great that you remembered." Flash again smiles easily, openly. He opens his hand towards Deadpool and glances towards the woman who is now standing beside him. "It was a crazy fight, but he had it in control the whole time. To be honest, there are worse role models." Like say, Hydra. Flash gives a small nod and then looks towards Psylocke. "Here, let me pay for his lunch."
He looks towards Deadpool and says levelly, "If I may, sir." And at that he reaches for his wallet. A few moments later he looks towards Psylocke and tells her in that same calm tone, "He's excellent at what he does, but he can be a good guy."

And, of course, that's the moment when Psylocke would get a few images of the conflict that had occured around Venom and Deadpool. They had fought, sure. But it was more the maggia that suffered. It ended up with a pretty sweet autograph too.

Only Deadpool could shoot a guy, draw blood, and end with the guy smiling appreciatively for the autographed 8 x 10 Wade had signed earlier. Good guy, bad guy, he's the guy with the guns. "A guy could get used to this sir business. Sir Deadpool. Has a nice, Ian McKellen-ey ring to it, wouldn't you agree?" Siryn's been trying to convert him, to turn him to the light side, but so far, there's been no luck. Wade is an agent of chaos, and chaos doesn't pick sides. And on that note, he announces, "you know what, I'm in the mood for a good old fashioned, American cheeseburger. And as everyone knows, the best place to get one of those is at Red Robin." When your stomach growls, like Deadpool's stomach growls, you just have to feed it. With a flick of a switch on his belt, he disappears in a flash of light. And was that the Star Trek transporter sound playing? It sounded like it. He's gone, for a while. Long enough for them to wonder if he was coming back, but then it begins to rain. And no ordinary rain. It rains burgers, wrapped in Red Robin wrappers, and fries. Okay, so he didn't think the fries part through. But Deadpool's been teleporting into the sky, releasing the goodies, and then teleporting away, to repeat it again. When the rain finally stops, he seems to be gone. No wonder people think he's nuts.

Betsy touches her fingers to her brow. No psychic powers. Just an incipient migraine. She spreads her fingers and rolls her eyes, hand flicking skywards in a 'to hell with it' gesture. "Eat whatever you want, Zoe. Do what you think is best," she says, hauling out the Ultimate Guilt Hammer.

She looks over at the man next to her, then lifts a hand up and slips her fingers into his grasp, giving his hand a firm squeeze. "Flash, what does a girl have to do to get a boy to ask her out?" Betsy says a bit more imperiously, giving Flash a pointed and direct look. "Because I'm rather sure I'm doing this correctly."

Zoe stood there a moment confused when he poofed into nothing and then moments later when it started to rain burgers she walked to the window and just watched the burgers and fries flying down from the sky as she reached out and grabbed one in wrapped and walked over next to Psylocke and Venom. She gave Betsy a kinda of 'you did this' look before opening it up and taking a bite. She took a few moments to chew before speaking up. "Your name isn't actually man-spider is it?" Her tone rather dead pan when surrounded by such recent absurdities. Then tilting her head to the side. "You're gonna ask out Ms. Braddock?" She sighed softly. "Its been a weird couple of days but at least theres not anymore Parademons those guys sucked."

Giving her hand a squeeze back, Flash sort of grins sidelong at her, even as the first of the hamburger and fry rainfall starts albeit distantly. He looks upwards and takes a deep breath to let loose a small sigh, then turns those white eyelets down towards Zoe and he lifts a hand in a small greeting, "Nope. It's Charlie to some, Contingency C to others." His eyebrow lifts as if to commiserate with the young woman about how that's a pretty crummy answer.
Then he looks towards Betsy and lifts his chin, "Hey, I totally planned to ask you when those Atlantis people showed up…" But he leans towards her, giving her a bit of a bump shoulder to shoulder, "But…" He shifts his weight to the other foot, rubbing at the back of his neck a touch awkwardly, "Would you like to grab some dinner later this week?"

"Yes," Betsy says. "Italian. Between six and eight PM. Somewhere where ties are required," she says in those imperiously controlled tones. But she squeezes his hand warmly, the little gesture somewhat at odds with her haughty demeanour and stand-offish body language.

She looks at Zoe with a rueful expression flickering across her face. "You'll find life as a hero is often 'weird', dear," she tells Zoe. "But if you put your life on hold until things are normal, you'll die having never done the things you wanted to do."

Zoe chewed as she looked between them in that somewhat awkward exchange. The backdrop instead of a romantic thunderstorm was instead amricana in fried food form falling from the sky as one of Betsy's students stood there watching on as Venom asked her out. She didn't even have words for all of what was happening right now and instead just took another bite seeming to enjoy her meal amidst the chaos and strange-love that surrounded her. Then finally sighed a little. "Nice to meet'cha, this has just been a really strange welcome home..Ms. Braddock can we drive home and pass out now?"

A grin, a final squeeze of one hand, and then Flash steps back from the two of them. He walks backwards for a time, lifting a hand to offer them a wave. "Right, be on the look out for a six foot eight italian guy in a necktie." The man in the black combat harness glances over at Zoe, but then offers a small shrug towards Elizabeth as if to express his reluctance to depart but duty calls.
His thoughts are sent towards Psylocke, tinged with the subtle warmth of a smile that would reach his eyes if they could be seen. « You pull off the whole school marm thing pretty well… »
At that, Flash knows it's best to beat a hasty retreat. With only a casual, "See you soon," tossed over his shoulder… he lifts a hand to fire a webline upwards with a short /THWIP!/ The line tigthens and snaps him up into the air where he quickly flips out of view.

"Yes, of course." Betsy releases Flash's hand, Zoe's words a goad to return to duty. In an instant, that vague softening of her features fades and becomes something resolute again- and an annoyed flash is shot at Flash's departing back.

"Arse," she mutters, almost inaudibly. But she glances at where he vanishes into the rooftops. "Come along, dear," Betsy says, shooing Zoe ahead and taking long steps on those ponderously narrow heels. "Let's get back to the mansion and get some rest. An early day tomorrow, for both of us."

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