2010-05-27: Munchmunch

Players:

Deadpool_icon.jpg Domino_icon.jpg Sabretooth_icon.jpg

Summary: Deadpool botches a mission meeting, Sabretooth taunts Domino.

Date:May 27, 2010

Log Title Munchmunch

Rating: PG-13


NYC - Mutant Town

Mutant Town, also known as District X, has become a haven for mutants. This section of town doesn't care what you look like, accepting all mutants no matter what their appearance. Most of the businesses in this section of town are mutant run ranging from small convenience stores to clothing shops to restaurants to night clubs. The buildings here aren't the high rise buildings you might find in mid-town but most are about 5-6 stories high. Mutant Town might not be the most luxurious section of town, in fact it's fairly run down, but this section of where mutants are safe and welcomed regardless of race, religion and culture.


Rooftops, as one well knows, is the best place to prowl around when the night is as dark and bleak as this one. The wind passes through, the scents a huge variety beyond separation to most; Victor is at ease, rooftop, near the heart of Mutant Town. Not quite 'monitoring' that's not accurate, but taking a break from a tracker's hunt that he's not in a rush to complete. Scents and sounds carried to his large figure, currently lounging, like a bulky mountain lion, on the edge of a building, with his current distraction: 'prey' in hand…. a very mauled and shredded remains of a bag containing containers of buffalo wings, the sauce all over left hand and claws. Munchmunch.

Right now, Wade as he appeared was a man nearing thirty with a bald head, sun-glasses and dark brown eyes. Handsome enough features with a lengthy stride, his hands crammed into the pockets of tattered camo pants flipflops worn on nicely tanned feet. Over his torso was a Hawaiian style brightly orange, gold and red colored shirt that was opened at the collar, over one shoulder was a large 'murse' hanging down around his hip. A fine leather look to it, what was unseen however, veiled by the image inducer he had activated was the bulky package he carried; twin sub-machine guns, two swords of his shoulders and the very obvious red and black outfit of one mercenary named Deadpool. The sun was just beginning to fall down over the horizon, the city of being cast in a gloom. District-X still seemed to have some life to it though, apparently having some decent bit of night life. Seeming oblivious to the rooftop lurker.

Another night of idle sitting while her ward slumbered made her wary. She was not one to remain still when so much else could possibly be going on when nothing here was. Picking up from one rooftop to the next and finally landing within the alleys that wove their courses into Mutant Town her pace was silent as her ears were trained to listen for any signs of what she had come in on the other night. No gunfire, no shouting, no angelic glowing light of blinding proportions - a quiet night. The dull just kept getting duller. But there was always that chance. Sticking to the sidewalk and close to the nearing ramshackle building her eyes shifted up and then down in a sweep while one hand drew across her abdomen, the trench coat she wore hanging open leaving her abdomen bare of unnaturally pale flesh, torso and legs clad in a fabric reminiscent of latex, but if one knew Domino it was far more than simple rubberized fabric and her hand was readying if need be, despite the calm.

The gunfire draws all kinds; in the case of Victor, an interest in the potential bloody mess that could be offered. Or a masochistic desire to wander into a dangerous area, and up the ante? Any of the above. He stops his eating, feral eyes narrowing, drawing in slow, even breaths, lifting his head away from the potent reek of the meal, freezing. Familiar scents in the night. The question becomes more if they are good—- /interesting/ scents, or not. A city is a terrible place to track, so he remains dormant for the time being, preferring to be the predator, not the prey that wanders out blithely.

Although with a trio of stealth such as this, none of which interested in being seen or identified, perhaps any explosive encounter will remain unsparked. …Then again, Victor isn't particularly hiding out. He's making a mess with his food, and grumpily lets one of the empty containers drop down to the alley below. Sort of near a dumpster. ..but that was just luck, not intentional.

" Red. The sky is always red at these hours. " A man on the corner said quietly, yet loud enough it was audible. Wade paused, looked up and replied, " More of an orange if you ask me. " Quietly the form near the lamp-post turned and regarded the rather garishly obscured mercenary, " Amateur. " The 'contact' replied, a retort of " You think these stupid… " A quick catch and a meaningful hiss came from the hobo looking fellow and Deadpool's voice became a hushed, " You think these stupid Bond movie lines aren't amateur? " Grumbling he pulled out the murse, " Nice. " Came a snide reply from the man as they both paused, Deadpool issued a " Whutwhazat? " Quickly as the man frowned, " You been followed? " Bald head shook, " Nah, probably a R.O.U.S. " Both forms were silent several heartbeats before they drew closer talking in hushed tones.

Ever being on the alert Domino's wandering was not easing down, though each step was casual, as if this was a jaunt that got her out into the smoggy air of New York and filled her lungs with the satisfying [not-so]freshness of it all. The drop of the container hit a path just before her, her eyes registering the blur of falling wrappings before what exactly they were and her pace in the alley took from one side to the next with her back against the wall and her hand lodged beneath the lapel of the coat and on the ready. The focus of what it was came in soon enough and her eyes travelled up the wall of the crumbling building to see the…Man perched above, both brows rising slowly but her hand never moved from where it rested. It was the waiting game now.

Victor is about as interested in the strange conversation about the sky color as he is in the conversation to one side from an apartment that he can hear about who drank the last of the orange juice and put the container back into the fridge—or the one on the opposite side, some chat about the gunfire from the other night. Owait. Was that motion below? Victor's sharp eyes level down at the alley, indifferent, but watchful, sniffing twice, three times. No apparent weapons would be seen on Victor: …the remaining buffalo wings really don't count, but the sauce in an eye probably wouldn't exactly feel good either, what with the pepper. Still. Not exactly looking armed; just a dark, now unmoving, shape that very slowly does move, drawing legs in, should he have to leap away or move. …..and then crunching plastic again. Munch-rustle.

Deadpool aka the tacky tourist held out the satchel opening it up for review. " Not here! " Exclaimed the other fellow subject hobo, which got a chuckle from the other form. " Aw, what? You guys are so sketchy. Everyone KNOWS you're no good shadowy sorts yeesh just have some fun with it. " Over their conversation neither one heard the background noises of Sabertooth or Domino, or what little of them there was or wasn't.

Slowly her hand does fall, though nothing that she had managed to loose in that flash of a moment to grip, was reset to a "safe" standing. Her head tilted ever so slightly, the one eye ringed in the black mark narrowing as if a better focus would be gained upon the rooftop lurker. "Littering is bad for the environment." Mmkay? An utterance of simple [needless] fact before she turned as if to move off, not bothering to pick it up herself either. Not a rooftop shooter this time, just a slob. Rounding the edge of the building she hit the main course through Mutant Town, casting a side long glance up to that same building as she walked along its foundation.

Victor isn't quiet about his response. A beat of silence, and then a deep, rolling, rough laugh. It's not particularly LOUD, but if Domino is listening and trying to hear it, she will. A dry, darkened tone of a laugh that's just fine with pollution, and even thinks it's funny, evidently. He keeps an eye on her— and actually moves across the roof, quiet despite his bulk, to come along to the other edge of the roof so he can still see decently. The plastic from his food, brought along since there's still some, is the most noisy feature. His size is threatening, as is that he's above, but otherwise there's no real threat, no reason to shoot. She's just been picked as entertaining.

The muffled sounds from the alleyway caught ears, " See, you hear that you moron? We are being watched you were followed! " The man pushed away from the lamp-post and began to walk off quickly, " Hey wait! Our dates not over, come on it's just some street urchins! Man, what a… " Deadpool clamps the bag shut slinging it back over his shoulder turning as his fist shoved up into the air waving in a circle down the alleyway, " Way to go! Asssssholes, just ruined my uh thing. " The A.I.M. contact was right, he was being a tad unprofessional right now, what gives? Even worse he just ruined another job. Growling stomach added to some bit of despair at this, " AND NOW I'm HUNGRY TOO!!! " Should make them pay, go down there and pound on some noisy bum, make you feel better! They're so squishy.

She was acutely aware of his movements, once her was revealed at the other edge of the building in his voyeurism of her she turned to lean against another opposing building. She was not his dancing monkey and he was not about to seemingly stop watching so she could get the drop on him. Game over or at least a tie that needed a breaker. His laughter did not effect her it only brought one corner of her lips up into a rise, but at this vantage she also caught the motion of the duo's date now broken. What was going on between them was not her concern, nor was the large bulk above but this was a part of New York she could at least feel an affinity too. "I am sure you do not share either, I am lacking popcorn for this stare down." Sarcasm oozed but hell, at this point she must be poking for amusements sake.

Apparently the visitor from above can hear her sarcasm just fine. And the response isn't verbal. A small object drops, to land on the cement near her, if she doesn't bother to catch it. Oh. He did share. It isn't even chewed on or anything. All of this for Victor's amusement's sake, of course. He doesn't stare just at her, he monitors the movement across the way, to an extent, though mostly just listening. The wind isn't blowing their scents at him, he'd need to go down there to get a good read with that, but he isn't concerned particularly, at least for now. Mood isn't poor; the laugh was a good suggestion of that. He's mostly done eating anyway; there's some left in the box that gets set aside, but he's not one to over stuff himself. More the type to kill even when he's not hungry, but then let it rot.

The heavy sigh shoved past mangled lips under a mask that was concealed by another form of a mask. His hand rose up and drummed on the side of his head, curiosity piqued now but he had to make exit and perhaps lose anyone who may be following him, which wasn't hard to do when you can… teleport *fwip* gone in an instant, the collapsing of air filling a space once occupied by a body all that was heard before he faded from view. " Paranoid bastards. " Lingering behind as he vanished.

She did not have to do much more of a movement. If she would have had to play "fetch" for the drumstick she would not have bothered, but a slight shift in her side and a snap out of her hand and she had that morsel. Bringing it to dark stained lips after a pause she took a bite and shoved from the building with a roll of her shoulders. One bite taken from it and she lifted the partially eaten morsel in the air during her departure. "Good stuff, will need to ask where its from later." But something perhaps edged familiar about this, and her little internal deja vous had to be deciphered. At least she had a snack to go with.

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