Dipping your toes in the pool

June 29, 2015:

Red Phoenix and Vorpal find out what it's like to cross Deadpool, or was that other way around?

Guggenheim Museum

A famous art museum located at 5th Avenue and 89th street. It's cylindrical profile is quite distinct. Originally established as a place to display non objective art, the collection later transformed into the one renowned today under a series of distinguished curators.


NPCs: A blonde girl, some monsters, and a reject from the Matrix films


Mood Music: ''William Tell Overture'' by Gioachino Rossini

Fade In…

It was the squeaks that drew the attention. Someone had the gall to wear sneakers, wet sneakers, on the beautiful tile flooring. He could have wiped his shoes on the carpet when he came in. He could have put the majority of his weight on his heels as he walked. Or he could have been very careful with his steps to avoid dragging his feet. But he didn't. He was thoughtless like that.

The man wore a loud Hawaiian shirt, with little yellow pineapples over the sky blue background. Below that, he had on some black jean shorts, one a little longer than the other, and the edges were frayed.

Moving over to one of the exhibits, the man looked up, commenting to a nice elderly couple, "I don't know art, but that is one ugly mother-" and then it was broken up by the sound of a woman running through the Museum.

She was in her early twenties, petit, blonde hair, and seemed to be carrying a crossbow, but that was slung over her back, and she was running from a pair of monsters. Yep, bonafide monsters. These things were humanoid, but lizard-like with these weird sword-like appendages coming out of where their hands should have been.

And behind them, there was Deadpool, running, but not as fast as the girl, or the monsters, "hey, wait up, I saw her first!"

Go to the museum. Go to the museum. Look at some art. Get exposed to some great art, Gar had said. Get the hell out of the Castle and stop pampering me while I heal, Gar had said.

And because Keith realized he didn't really want to sleep on the couch, he decided to comply. And so here he was, at the museum, looking at beautiful art in his human fo-

"What the fu-"

A girl. Monsters. And then-

"Fuck you, chaos matrix." Because, of course, this had to happen. Being made out of chaos magic meant that you would end up attracting all sorts of luck… in Keith's case, it often was that of the 'bad' category.

The redhead ducks behind a corner as he whips out a small handheld mirror and says the Magic Words for his transformation. The result is that, a few seconds later, the hero known as Vorpal is now running after Deadpool, because it seems like the natural thing to do at this point (perpetuating the chain.) It's, at least, a way he can tell what the hell is going on and who is the good, who is the bad, and who is the ugly (five gives you ten that that one is Wade.)

Rachel had been at the museum, meeting with a contact before her trip to Bahrain when the commotion broke out. After her last encounter with Deadpool, she had no doubt he was to blame; maybe she wouldn't go so easy on the ninja assassin with a power level over 9000 this time around.

Slipping behind an exhibit, Rachel focused for a moment her clothing changing into a red bodysuit and a green hooded cloak before she joined the pursuit against Deadpool.

Reaching out with her telepathy she attempted to probe at the minds of those involved (incluring Vorpal, ouch) to see what their motives and intents were.

The petit blonde with the crossbow pushes past a throng of patrons, accidentally knocking over one of the old ladies, who landed with a thud. She cries out in pain, "M y hip!" That was no ordinary exclamation, the poor old dear was due for a hip replacement two weeks from today.

The guy in the Hawaiian shirt just laughed at her, thinking that it was funny, but the anguished look on the woman's face, and the concern from her partner, made him reconsider. His laughter stopped abruptly, and he said, "s-sorry, would somebody get a doctor?" A museum full of people and not a single doctor stepped forward? What is the world coming to?

The monsters continue their hurried chase, splitting up to go around one large display. Divide and conquer seemed to be the girl's plan, as she turned a corner, then doubled back and shot one of them with her crossbow. She was an excellent shot too. It cried out in pain, before dissolving into a weird goo. She even finished it off with a pun, "here today, goo tomorrow."

Shaking his head as he panted, "girl, somebody's got to talk to you, puff, about your dialogue. Have you tried Aaron, huff, Sorkin? I hear he's the bomb." And yes, Wade is trying to bring that phrase back. How's it working so far?

The monsters, make that monster, was thinking about food. But no ordinary food. Apparently it liked to eat Dodo eggs, and it was of the belief that they were still available for the right price?

The girl thought of a nice handbag she saw a patron with, wondering if it would go with her shoes, and how she was going to deal with all the things that were chasing her. And Deadpool, well, we're going to let him explain that one to you himself.

The Merc with the Mouth thought . o ( I was born one hot summer day, and almost four decades later, I wound up part of some stupid game to hunt a girl I never heard of, for a whole lot of money. By the way, have you tried Nando's Deli on East 33rd Street? The hero sandwich is to die for. Literally. I tried it, and I lost my little VC sticker. )

To Rachel, Vorpal's mind might feel like the psychic version of a landscape painted by Salvador Dali and laid out by M. C. Escher. It's like three different consciousness layers that are in constant dialogue with each other, one of them being the epitome of impulsiveness, the other one being careful and observant (even timid sometimes), and then there's the ancient one.

The general gist, for what can be gleaned from the interactions, is a general sense of curiosity and a desire to find out who is in the wrong, who is in the right, and a way to stop the first without stopping the second.

And, randomly enough, a craving for sushi of all things.

Okay so the woman was attacking the monsters, which probably put her in the camp of 'the good guys'- or at least that was a safe bet. The red-and-black guy chasing her must be in league with the monsters, then, and so his Titan duty was to stop him.

And that's when the marbles appeared. Hundreds of little, glowing, purple marbles appearing on the floor in front of Wade, eager to meet his running feet like Penelope waiting for Ulysses to return. Vorpal's hope is that it will slow the man down enough for him to confirm that, indeed, this is the man he needs to stop and that the woman with the crossbow is not, in fact, some sort of crazed serial murderer…

Rachel was not prepared for Vorpal's brain and the triple threat of it sends her reeling. Leaning against a near-by exhibit she grabs her head and moans just a little bit as the chaos magic messed with her.

"Uhhh My head." She mutters, out of the pursuit for now.

The surviving monster had caught up with the blonde woman, and was using its knife-like appendages to hack and slash at her, but she was too quick, deeking, diving, and evading. She even did the splits at one point, and punched it in what is usually a sensitive area for humanoids of the male persuasion, but this didn't seem to faze it. "I guess you guys don't have anything down there. Sucks to be you."

She then laid back, sort of doing a somersault-handstand like thing to kick it in the face, and roll to her feet, before she leapt up, grabbing onto some kind of spherical piece of artwork with built in handholds, though it was never intended for that usage. "I'm up here, catch me if you can."

Meanwhile, Deadpool was ill-prepared for the appearance of marbles beneath his feet. Sure, he could use his teleporter to just bypass them, or he could do some kind of fancy acrobatic stunt like that girl, but instead, he just moved his feet, back and forth, as if he were on some kind of elliptical machine. His arms went out flailing, "oh, this is going to hurt."

He crashed into the spherical object, sending the girl flying, but in mid air, she used her crossbow to hit the monster, or more precisely, a jewel on its forehead, barely noticeable, but that seemed to trigger its transformation into a pile of goo… goo that Deadpool found himself laying in. "Eww, I don't know where this guy has been."

She tried to hit him with the crossbow bolt, sending one right between his legs, but he got up just in time. His eyes bug out, "careful there, that almost hit me!" Pulling out his twin guns, he began firing, hitting tile flooring, walls, but managing to avoid the artwork, and following after the girl as she moved to evade them. His gunfire even made the outline of a bunny rabbit. "Stand still, will ya? I need the money."

A purple wall goes up just in time to save Vorpal from a hail of bullets - and any bystander too stupid not to have made a hasty retreat by now. But once the Red-and-black wonder was off once again chasing the woman, the wall went away.

"Yyyep, that's the crazy nutter I need to stop, obviously."

Not goofind around anymore, Vorpal opens a series of Rabbit Holes in order to gather momentum through the air and launch himself towards Deadpool from behind, "Didn't your mama tell you it's rood to shoot your mouth around on the first date?"

"Have you met me? I'm Deadpool, the Merc with the Mouth." He catches Vorpal, and tries to spit him off. "I never stop talking, except when I'm asleep, though I've been told sometimes I forget to stop talking then, but why am I talking to you about that? It's more a third date topic of conversation."

The blonde uses that opening to reload her crossbow, and fires off a few bolts into the melee, as if she were a high level Dungeons and Dragons character, or just didn't care if she hit Vorpal.

But soon enough, she'll have other things to deal with, as a man steps out of the crowd wearing a black coat that almost reaches the floor. He has black sunglasses on. His hair is black. He's kind of pale, almost as if he were right out of the Matrix. But he moves with surprising grace, and is obviously a well trained fighter.

They battle each other, and when Deadpool notices, he cries out, "hey man, like I told the freaks with the blades, the girl's mine, so," and he tries to forcibly shove Vorpal off of him, "lay off!"

The arrows are one thing - fortunately, not out of Vorpal's area of expertise, nothing that some barriers couldn't fix -

But then Neo shows up and the fight becomes one confused mess. Next thing he knows, he's getting shoved off the Merc with the Mouth and rolling back until he manages to regain his balance.

And he crouches low on the ground, his patience getting dangerously low.

~This dude is bonkers~
++We're all mad here.++
~~HAH! I see what you did there!~~
~Oh shut up both of you~
~~Aw. Poor widdlekins~~
++Do not understimate this one. He's aware. He's very aware.++
~Even if he's nuttier than Squirrel Girl~

Because, to be truthful, the kind of meta-awareness that Deadpool exhibits is not unlike what it feels like to be one of the Fae. Of course, in a mortal body, that awareness is no longer there… But it doesn't mean one can't tell the signs. Even if only the Fae side of Keith knows this, and at the moment is choosing not to share with the rest of the class. Because, at the end of the day, the Fae are bastards. And so is Wade.

Vorpal remains crouched for a second or two, trying to catch his breath before he sees what direction the battle will take. If Deadpool takes on Neo, then…

Rachel managed to recover, unsure what had come over her; maybe it wasn't just Vorpal but a combination of Deadpool's nearly fourth wall breaking thoughts, she would never wonder what a VC Sticker was again for fear of reality coming apart.

If any two people could break reality, it was Deadpool and Vorpal.

Rather than risk an incident, Rachel goes on clean-up duty and begins the careful procedure of wiping and replacing the memories of anyone who witnessed what just occurred.

She replaces the images of Vorpal, Deadpool and the others with a highly dysfunctional redneck family chasing each other; for kicks she makes Deadpool the overweight mom with clown makeup.

When that's done, she decides to have a bit more fun and then sends Vorpal and the other baddies? (if they are) an image of Deadpool crying after she broke his swords.

Deadpool may have some competition for the craziest person in the room, and that's not nothing. Does that mean it's something, or not something. Oh, who can tell anymore with the double and triple negatives. But there's a fight going on, and considering Wade's a Canadian, there's a good chance it could end up in a hockey game.

He even grabs a piece of one of the displays, a stick like object, not curved like a hockey stick, more like a golf club, and says, "batter up!" and takes a swing at Vorpal's head. So he's a multisport athlete. You should see his rhythmic gymnastics performance.

Neo, as we seem to be calling him, seems to have the upper hand, landing some good blows on the girl. But she can take one hell of a beating. At one point, he grabs her by the neck, tosses something on the ground, and it explodes into a reddish black haze.

"Ooh, I gotta get me some of those. Then I can be all mysterious, like what's his name, the one voiced by Orsen Welles, Darkling Duck? No, Darkwing Dude? Was it Darkwing Duck? Yeah, that one rolls off the tongue and into the mask."

Without the blonde, he decides to take out his frustration on poor little Vorpal. "Catra, you let the girl go, and who knows what that reject from the Matrix is going to do with the money I was gonna earn? Do you think he'd share it if I asked really, really nicely? I would, but that's because I'm a nice guy at heart."

As he talks, distracting as he does, he's reloading his guns because somebody took away his swords, and begins firing at Vorpal. "Say hello to my little friends." And yes, he does say that in a fake Latino accent.

The Mouth is definitely the worst element of this mercenary - it is something that is incredibly distracting, the incessant verborrhea, something that is quite capable of causing a lot of distractions for his opponents.

A purple croquet mallet shaped like a flamingo, glowing and purple, meets Deadpool's impromptu stick as he swings it towards Vorpal's head, "Have you played croquet with the queen yet?" the Cheshire meets the blow with his own odd weapon and attempts to swing it away as he jumps back, "I hear she's the kind of hostess you just die for!"

The incessant yakking would be a major obstacle for most people. But then again, most people did not have a woman who grew up among the fae as part of their headquarters' cleaning crew. A woman whoneverstoppedtalkingandcouldsayvirtualparagraphswithouthavingtotakeasinglebreathnorapauseandhervoicesimplydrilleditselfintoyourears… without knowing it, it had been the kind of training that someone who would face the Mouth would need.

The woman disappears, and that is one huge bummer. But the Cheshire does grin at the image that has just hit his mind.

~That looks like fun~
++I do love it when grown men cry++

"Oh no. You shot me full of holes!" the Cheshire cries as Deadpool begins to fire. But this is not truly accurate. It's just two holes. One that opens in front of Vorpal as the guns fire… and one that opens behind Wade. The gunfire goes in one way and… well, anyone who has seen cartoons can imagine where they're going to come out, right?

At this point, Rachel had a flight to be catching in only a few hours and she couldn't afford to be wasting any time with further distractions; as entertaining as it would have been to also claim Deadpool's guns.

Even as she's leaving the museum, she's doing what she can to maintain the illusion from a distance because she really didn't want to see Vorpal or Deadpool dealing with the police; for the sake of the police.

A thought is sent out to Vorpal, ~Good luck and breaking his toys is the best way to get to him or compare him to Wolverine.~

Deadpool has accidentally shot himself before. He's been around guns almost all his life, and with his healing factor, sometimes he just doesn't care where he's shooting. But he's never shot himself in the ass before, and now he can say he has. A great yelp in pain comes from those lips. "Woah, that's kind of tripy."

He rubs his backside, with the business end of one of his guns, and already his healing factor is working to push the bullet out. "Okay, I'm putting the guns away." He does so, putting up his fists, looking like he's adopting an old school boxer stance. "Put up your dukes," he invites.

But he's tricky, this one. Kicking out at the goo, he tries to splash some of the former monster into Vorpal's eyes, or at least mess with his fur. "How do you like them apples?"

A face full of goo is not something anyone likes, especially not cats, fastidious as they are with their fur. As he sputters and steps back, the psychic message to him makes very little sense…

Who is Wolverine? Sure, Vorpal killed demons in Greenland with Logan, but he wasn't going by any codename then, so it is unlikely that the Cheshire cat would link the Canadian ball of rage with that name.

When he flicks the offending material out of his eyes, he looks at his arms. And chest. And face.

And then he looks up at Wade, his eyes positively made of absolute murder.

"Do… do you know how long it takes to get… this… shit… out… of my fur?"

The voice sounds like someone in the control booth is messing with the Dolby effects package. And they just found the 'Carrie' setting.

It's clearly just a trick of the light that his eyes are also red. Totally.

It's not funny. Nope. This is serious. But the look on Vorpal, the seriousness in those ruby red eyes, it just tickles Wade's funny bone. He begins to laugh, it comes in a short blurb at first, "heh." But it grows, "hehe," and builds, "haha," until he's not just giggling, but laughing. It gets so bad that he has to put his right hand over his stomach, "oh Odin, hehe, I gotta stop, haha, please, hehehe, no more."

But it doesn't stop. It just gets worse. It's so funny, he can't help himself. Worse, Vorpal hasn't seemed to realise that he's going to spend about five hours getting the remains of some dead monster out of his fur. And that's just gross.

"Hang on, let me see if I can help you out, there must be someone who I could borrow a bucket of feathers from. Where's the giant chicken from Family Guy when you need him?"

This isn't the look of the cat who ate the canary. This is the look of the cat who ate the canary and then got food poisoning.

"Well, then," Vorpal says in a tone that is terribly reminiscent of Joan Crawford very dangerously close to remarking about certain closet utensils, "I am rather cross."

A wave of sheer reality-breaking something expands from the Cheshire, and that's when things start going completely upside-down.

Tiles from the floor start having ideas as to what their true position in life is, and that seems to be everywhere and nowhere, causing the floor to become a veritable caterpillar of moving parts. Similarly, ancient statues and armour have decided to elope, running all over the floor in random directions, and great pieces of art have lost all sense of decency, depth and perception, which results in a rather lovely marble horse jumping out of his pedestal and careening down the hall towards the Merc, while the merchant from Padua to whom the horse belongs is cursing his luck at losing such a stead.

There's also five different Vorpals, all with goo on their fur, positioned in different parts of the floor as it shifts and turns around.

"Very… very cross…"

For most people, this would be terribly disorienting. They'd be curled up in the foetal position, crying for their mommy. But Deadpool is not most people. He's barely even people. He's a cartoon character, or so he thinks, and he embraces the madness.

Jumping up, he uses the tiles as if they were a staircase, and leaps onto the charging horse, landing on its back, and he begins to hum the William Tell Overture. "Ba bada bada-babadaba…" He even seems to have managed to snag a cowboy hat from some stature, or was it a patron, whoever he took it from, it suits him.

"Hi-yo silver!" he calls out from atop his mount, and begins firing, forgetting his earlier mistake. He wants to hit the Vorpals, and suddenly, he realises he didn't catch the other guy's name. "Just so I know for my resume, who am I trying to kill anyway? Most people know me, but in case you don't watch the news, read the newspaper, yeah, they still exist, I checked, the blogosphere, comics, the movie, and my own personal favourite, the line of plush children's toys, I'm the Merc with the Mouth, Deadpool."

And there's bullets again, but Vorpal doesn't deflect those because Deadpool is riding upon a priceless work of art. Yeah, that was not his best bit of thinking there. A bullet hits him in the shoulder, and it's only his feline reflexes that saves him from worse as he rolls away and then gets used to the rhythm of the tiles to seek cover.

This was bad. This was getting pretty terrible and he was wounded, and the man seemed to have some preternatural ability.
~I'm going to die here, geez~
++Silly, silly.++
++You're being too – human -, so cautious, so thoughtful++
~Yeah, it's not a good thing to give you the reins!~
++I'm afraid you'll have to++

He looks up from his cover as Deadpool does his long-winded introduction.

++If you want to live, embrace me++

The last time the Cait Sidhe had his reins cut, he turned Gotham into a place of chaos and mayhem. Granted, it was under the influence of the Circle of Oroboros, but there is still enough chaos in the true essence of the Fae to make the decision to surrender to that particular side a desperate one.

~… alright.~

A rabbit hole opens under Vorpal, and drops him on the ground, right behind Wade after the horse has passed. "I'm Spartacus!" the Cheshire shouts and, because a horse is a horse (of course, of course) there is the illusion of a marble snake rearing up to meet the marble horse.

When the horse rears up because of the snake, Deadpool loses his spot. And he waited all day in line for a ride on the horsey. Rolling back, he falls off the horse, but fortunately there was a gooey feline to cushion his fall.

"Oofh, excuse me," and he tries to get up, but that goo, the stuff that used to be a monster, is pretty sticky. Maybe five hours was a cautious estimate on how long it'll take to get that stuff out of the fur.

"Get off of me kid, you bother me," he says, and this is where a katana would have come in handy. But no, he's been without his ever since Rachel destroyed them. At least he was able to let the Japanese authorities know that she had destroyed two of their national treasures. Of course, they were pretty upset to learn that he had been borrowing them all this time, and without asking.

"Oh wait, I have a cheat code," and he turns some dials built into his belt buckle, and he disappears only to re-appear on one of the floating tiles, "how come you're fighting me when you could back home watching Jon Stewart's Month of Zen?" And that's his cue to start firing more bullets. Shouldn't he have had to reload by now?

"Wa-hey-GET OFF ME-no!" That stuff was horribly sticky, and having another man glued to him wasn't something he enjoyed in the lea-

SHUT UP. Stop sniggering. It's true. Your own boyfriend doesn't count, okay?

The hail of bullets is met by a purple wall. Goodness knows why he's not opening the Rabbit Hole - the Cait is in control right now, and that makes him extremely unpredictable.

"Dude, HOLD YOUR FIRE! There's something important I've got to tell you!" he shouts as he gets up to a standing position, finally unsticking himself from the floor.

"You're right, Mr. Bojangles. I'm not getting paid for this, and my meal ticket left with another guy. I'm gonna go see if I can find her." He begins toying with the controls on that teleporter again.

But the cat said he had something important to tell him. Will the Merc with the Mouth stick around for the punch line? Stay with this station for the exciting conclusion after these messages…

Wade turns to the patrons who still seem to be of the belief that Wade is an overweight hillbilly in a mumu, and that Vorpal is one of her nephew-sons. "Cletus, you know I gots ta get me some new teeth, and that flousy went off and nabbed my block of widdlin' teeth. I ain't got the time to widdle another set."

And as the teleporter makes that usual sound, the Star Trek sound, Wade waves his hand, and says with a noticeable lisp, "th-th-th-that's all, folks!"

Yes. That belt. "Bon voyage," Vorpal says as he releases another chaos wave when Wade starts toying with the teleporter controls. It won't break that device, that's not how the chaos magic works, but it's going to make the next jump or so very unpredictable if the wave reaches Deadpool before teleporting away.

It was the least he could do to repay the 'Merc with the Mouth' for the bullet in the shoulder. Because Deadpool didn't have to look at Raven's dead eyes and Abyss Of Hell expression when he went to her for healing.

Yes, it could be said for certain that Vorpal sort of kind of hated the Merc something fierce. Enough to suggest to John Constantine that maybe he should hunt him down and make an acquaintance. It was misery mutually deserved.

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