2013.08.30 - Take It To Go

Pizza. It's the one thing that Cable has missed. It's the world's most perfect food, and there isn't anywhere else in the world, in time, that makes it half as good as New York City.

It's been a rough time, and the only thing that Nate can even contemplate is a beer. But at one point in time, even he needs to eat, and he's no chef. Never has been. So, the beheamoth of a man steps into the pizzaria, and he ducks his head instinctively through the doorway, even if he does have some clearance. Immediately, he receives stares, but he seems to ignore them easily enough. First stop is the bar, where he stands to be served; a glass of the dark stuff is good enough before he waits for a waitress to find a spot for him in the ever increasingly busy joint. It may not be big, or pretty, but it seems to be popular enough.

And shortly after, looking at a piece of paper in hand, comes Lunair. She likes pizza, and a friend of hers would like one brought home. Why not? It's been somewhat quiet for her of late. And if she must do something, she will do it well. Which means New York Pizza. She might get an odd look because she dresses like the Victorian age got her in a suplex, did a double lariat and flung her off into a frilly shirt. She has a slightly distant stare - the ole thousand yard stare - but seems fairly normal, aside from a fashion sense that would get her tazed into oblivion by the fashion police.

Then there's Cable. The dude is tall. Is he related to a tree? Mental images of a plant diagram with a sequoia pointing to him. Hmm. Blink. Well. She'll wait for her turn, too. Though, she is just near the bar, rather than at. No one wants a federal issued party van, after all. "Oh." She looks apologetic towards Cable. "Sorry." She was staring. "... your hair is really cool." Yup. Way to go, Captain Creeper.

After awhile, Nate has learned not to stare. But, this is a time period where jeans and a t-shirt is pretty much the norm. Anything outside that does gain a look, and in Lunair's case, a second one. Particularly in that she seems to be glancing back at him. Normally, he'd ignore it, but there doesn't seem to be anyone with the girl. The fact that she notices that she's been noticed, well... that gains something of a shrugged smile. Nate takes a deep breath, and holds his beer down; he'll drink it when he gets to a table. "Thanks," and it sounds genuine enough, if not a touch on the distracted side. "Decided to pass on the peacock look. Draws too much attention."

Lunair seems to be a little out of step with fashion, it's true. She blinks back owlishly. She smiles back over, not seeming to mind. Or she's used to it. Hard to say. She seems quietly curious. Alas, no beer for Lunair. She does however, end up asking politely for a soda. She nods at his thank you. "You're welcome. And oh. Hmm. I could see that being tough to deal with," She considers it. "That, and I don't know if you ever wear hats." The mental image of the guy wearing a hat over peacock style hair, well. She steps aside from someone passing her, who blinks at her as if she were on fire or something. She shrugs it off and looks over to Nate. "I apologize if that was rude. I don't even know your name," She admits. She looks to be thinking a moment. "... but I think you're the tallest person I have ever met. My name's Lunair, by the way. Pleased to meet you." Carefully, she offers a hand. Something seems a little off. She's well mannered, but ill socialized.

Evening is falling, and with everything in the world that seems to be going wrong, pizza in this time, in this city, could be part of making it all right. (Well, the thought was beer first, but pizza to wash it down.) It's a reasonably busy evening, even for a Wednesday night. The bar is almost full, the seating area is also reasonably full. To the point where perhaps it might be better off to order it to 'go'.

With said beer in hand, then, Nathan Dayspring looks conspicuously out of place, even dressed as he is in 'civilian' clothes. He stands in 'line' and is finding himself in conversation with a young woman; one of those casual, 'I'm passing the time while waiting by being friendly' sort of talks.

Shaking his head in response to one of her seeming muses, Nate offers an answer. "No, not really a 'hat' wearer. Even in winter." None of those silly stocking caps!

A chuckle exits the man, and there's some indulgence offered. "I haven't seen too many taller. I'm sure there are, though. And I'm pretty sure they get stared at too." Nate looks at the proffered hand, and extends his own, one that pretty much looks like flesh and blood. Warm, too. "Nate. A pleasure." Yes, there is something a little off, and as he retrieves his hand, the questions begin- all the better to gain a little more information in a surface scan. Not polite, but after awhile? Incredibly useful.

"This is going to sound stupid, but do you come here a lot? That pretty much would be a giveaway to how good the place is. It's been a little while since I've been here, and you know how places can go downhill..."

Is it luck? Is it recently reacquired memories? Maybe it's just that she instinctively knows where to find the time-displaced man. Regardless, there's now an albino circulating through the crowd. A guy like Nate stands out most anywhere he goes and, granted, so does she, but she's also remarkably smaller and very good at being sneaky when merited, and often lucky enough to simply pass by unnoticed.

Like right now.

Out of the crowd, simply appearing in line beside Cable is the patch-eyed mercenary going by that goofy name of Domino. Nothing is said. Eye contact isn't made. One hand stays on her hip. The other reaches out and plucks the beer cleanly out of Nate's hand. With just as little warning as her appearance she takes a drink. Her expression might be completely neutral if not for a challenging edge to it, letting the flavor of the brew roll around her tongue.

When the bottle gets set back down in front of its owner it does so with an audible Thunk over the sounds of the crowd, the smaller woman still looking like she's got a serious fight to get out of her system.

Not that she's completely rude, mind.

"Hello, Lunair."

Lunair is here, likely to pick her boss and friend up some pizza. But even ordering it to go is a good wait. So here she is, looking like one of the Fashion Police's top 10 most wanted (Lady Gaga and her meat dress are up there, too). She has a soda in hand, being she can't drink legally. She's standing near Nate, going along with the polite conversation. Practice makes perfect. She seems to be making some progress. She smiles at the chuckle and tilts her head. "Well, I don't think it's polite to stare... I thought it was nifty, actually." All that reach! Fabrics with intricate designs that squish up on shorter people! So many perks. "And oh." She considers it. She quite likes hats, it seems. She smiles as he introduces himself.

If Lunair notices or is bothered, it doesn't register. "That's not stupid. Um, now and then. I usually order in," She admits. "But I like it well enough. The same folks still work here as a year or so ago," She taps her chin, thoughtfully.

And then suddenly, a wild Domino appears! She blinks owlishly, then smiles and waves. Wait. Oh snap. Beersnatch'd. Her eyes widen a bit. "Hi, Miss Domino. How are you?" She asks. She's responding a little better, at the very least and seems happy enough to see her.

It's true. Anywhere he goes, Nate does stand out, even when he's not trying to. The stares that he gains at any given time are something that comes along with the territory.

There's something to be said about the abino merc being able to 'sneak' up on the man, however. Nate's attention is somewhere else, which easily works in Domino's favour. Call it luck, call it what one will, but the beer is filched like a pro by a pro.

Looking down, the large man looks briefly surprised, the light scan from the conversational question is interrupted, and Nate opens his mouth to give argument, but all that comes out is a statement, "You made your decision." Money and guns over booze! He makes a point to take the beer back, even if there is a little less in the glass. (Hell of a greeting!) "I still have your stuff, by the way." Just in case.

Now, Nate looks between the pair, and brows rise. The 'come here often' line is dropped; same people for the last year or so, which means consistent. Which means good. "You know each other?"

"And you made yours."

Poor Lunair's about to be shut out, at least for a moment of time, as Domino's attention remains riveted upon Nathan. He would know exactly what she's referring to.

Just like she's aware that he's still in possession of some personal effects of hers from last night. "I know." This time the tone implies that the whole point of her happenstance visit is to get those belongings back (HK's arent cheap, nor is a bag full of money!)

Curtness out of the way (again, for the moment,) she adjusts her attention back to Lunair with a somewhat more traditional smirk. "We do." Okay, so a little more curtness. "Never better. In fact, I feel like a whole new woman."

Or a previous one that had gotten paved over at some point down the line.

"This idiot's not giving you any trouble, is he?"

Hmm. She looks confused by the decision talk, briefly shut out for a moment. Lunair wears the same expression as a dog who suddenly finds the screen door shut. Leaving stuff behind? Was that something naughty? Explosives? Guns? She hasn't the foggiest what to make of this or do about it, so she looks as confused as a giraffe in a clothing store. What's going on? She just goes quiet a moment. So far, this time line does seem stable indeedy! Unless you count those whacky peeps dropping in from portals.

She nods at Nate's question. "A bit." She seems uncertain. She /does/ but - she's /odd/ and some people might not wanna be connect to that and - oh geez. Well, she was doing well.

"I'm glad to hear that. And um, he seems pretty smart. And is friendly. So no trouble at all," Handwave. She seems surprised by that, actually.

"Yes, I did."

(How many times have I apologized again? Three? Four?)

Taking his beer up protectively, Nate takes another swallow of beer, though there's only a couple of those left in the glass. Good thing he didn't have the top shelf stuff!

"I'll be getting the pepperoni and sausage with mushrooms."

Turning back to Lunair, Nate catches Dom's words tossed back so easily; it's one of those maddening things about her. "See?" The large man looks between the two girls, and he doesn't seem to notice that Lunair is flagging in her social-ability at all. That either says a lot about him? Or her?

"Smart. Friendly. See? All that comes shining through."

This visit is more than Dom trying to get her stuff back. It's her means of putting everything on the line. Long forgotten memories, unlocked by the very man now standing between the two. He had taken something away from her then decided to give it back, only a matter of hours ago.

This is her way of verifying these memories.

The flavor of the beer that he ordered for himself, that triggers something. What toppings he orders on his pizza, that triggers something. It's like a giant puzzle where all of the pieces remain floating weightlessly in the air, gently bumping into one another until a match is randomly found and a little more of that picture starts to take shape.

If he thinks that four apologies is going to be enough he's going to have to learn to count a whole lot higher.

"Yep, he's real good at looking out for everyone. Always knowing what's best for them. Sometimes it's almost like he's psychic." The remark is finished with a white outlined brow arching upward, as though challenging Nate to argue her point.

But, as much fun as it is to verbally slam the bigger guy, there's someone else involved. Dom's still going to get her low shots in but even she's not so self-centered as to leave Lunair in the dust. "How are you hangin' in there, kiddo? Glad to see Wade's giving you a chance to have your own life now and then."

Because that's important. Being able to have a life of your own.

Lunair has no idea. She looks between the two. She waits her turn after Nate, and that'll be a few minutes at the least. She sort of watches, a little blank stared, but duly attentive. She just looks faintly amused. At Domino's retort, she looks confused and glances between them again. She's smart enough to figure there's /something/ going on, but she just hasn't the foggiest on what or any sort of context. ... bad karaoke night gone horribly awry? "I see." She doesn't make any attempt to pry, perhaps being perceptive enough to figure out that that would be like going into a mine field while clog dancing. And she's terrible at clog dancing.

Lunair smiles at Domino's question. She seems concerned but there's that whole 'better not go poke the wombat' thing. And the wombat is a social metaphor. "I'm well enough. I keep busy and study when I can. They have a botany class. I did well until I got to the exploding trees," She nods. "I was getting Wade some pizza too. He's pretty nice to me." Lunair is - odd. She seems fond of her friend. "It's different." It baffles the ever living heck out of her. But she seems to like it well enough. "I hope you're doing well and not working too hard. Balance is important," Nod. But she doesn't want to leave the tall fellow out. She looks thoughtful. Conversation is give and take, and it's a slow work in progress. "I can get your pizza if you'd like," A handwave. She's being deliberately vague. "Um. Did you two want to talk alone awhile?"

Rebuilding a life.

Rediscovering a life.

It's as she'd said, but why does it sound so -bad- when she says it like that? Nate does look out for everyone he can. There are things that should happen, things that shouldn't, and things that it just doesn't matter one way or the other. Even in those moments, the man steps in. Because it's right.

And to his dying day, Dom may not accept it, may not understand it, but Nate believes, still believes, that it was the right thing to do at the time.

Looking between the girls again, Nate looks confused. "Wade?"

"Wade?" Beat. "Not. Wade-Wade."

He studies Lunair for a long moment, his voice rising, "Wade?"

(And a girl?)

"No.." Now Nate sounds distracted, if not a little distressed? "No, thank you. I'll get it. It's not much."

The suggestion that perhaps the pair want to talk alone for awhile brings Nate around, and he shakes his head perhaps a little too quickly. "We'll do that later. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, I'm sorry."

"Botany..?" Domino repeats, a bit curious as to what purpose that might serve with someone like Lunair. "Exploding tree--nevermind. Glad to see things are working out between you two." Lest she forget this is the girl that can conjure fully operational rocket launchers out of thin air, and that she's apparently Deadpool's current sidekick. And Lunair's not gone any more insane because of it. Some things are better left not questioned.

Probably much like Luna's next question as to whether they needed some time to talk.

"No need," she casually brushes off the inquiry. "Definitely something for later. If I remember it." And another twist of the knife...

"Yes. Wade Wade. Say hello to his latest walking armory, she's real good at pulling things out of nowhere in ways that don't make any sense. You two oughta get along just fine."

Probably because Lunair's loopier than a bunch of roller coasters in a mattress spring factory. She's just odd, and half the time doesn't really know any better. One of her great weaknesses. She looks to Nate at that, tilting her head. "Wade-Wade. He likes chimichangas, Bea Arthur and umm..." She taps her chin. "Sometimes tacos." Yes. Being a sidekick means remembering lunch sometimes! Or dinner, as the case may be. She blnks owlishly, surprised. She peers at Nate, as if he just sprouted tentacles. That's most curious! When she's intrigued, her poker face goes out the window. "If you're sure. And oh, that's okay! I just didn't want to intrude," Lunair responds to Nate's comment. "No need to be sorry." Smile.

Lunair is still confused as heck. She seems surprised by Nate's reaction to Wade, too. A nod at Domino. "I like it well enough. I didn't go to a public school, so it's something I can catch up on easily. And yeah, there's several species. One spreads its seeds through a grenadelike explosion." Yikes. But Lunair smiles again. "Thanks!" She seems happy enough. And weirdly, she's never really pushed her weapons powers. Maybe someday. She nods. "I see. I'm sorry. Well, I'll get you pizza then and - uhm. In a non-creepy manner." Wait. Crap. Manner snag! Manner spinny wheel cursor of death! Oh no! She was doing /so well/. "It's pizza." Right. She looks amused by Domino's description, turning a little red and nods. "That'd be nice." She seems to like having friends. Waitaminute... Hey! "Oh. Um." Well, that's hawkward. "Should we get a table and chat?"

Nate stares at Domino, and it's true. It really is. She is tearing him to shreds, and he simply does't have the wherewithal to fight back. Not in public. The velvet covered claws are doing a job on him, and the one pathetic attempt was flipped back at him so handily that he's stuck.

Give him a gun. A wrong to be righted. Bad men to take down and put in their place a force for good. Or at least, take them down and see how the vacuum fills.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll remember now. In case you forget, just text me. I'll remind you."

Now...

Wade?

"I know Wade." Nate looks at Domino as she makes with the explanation, and back to Lunair, his head canting as he takes in this new bit of information. "Huh." How's that for an intelligent reply? Particularly in the face of the next little jab. "Are you proposing a swap then, Domino? Walking mini-arsenal sounds pretty much right on both counts. Hard to improve on a perfect concept."

It's just as good as anything else he's attempted this evening!

Finally, Nate empties the glass and leans to put it on the bar, holding up two fingers before he puts a hand out. Decision sounds like it's been made, and a gesture is made towards a table, whether the hostess wants them there or not.

"Table sounds fine. Then, I'd love to hear what Wade's been up to. It's been a little while."

"You're the last one here that'd be intruding."

It's really no wonder those two get along so well... Luna and Wade. Not Domino and Cable. Insanity is a pretty big patch of common ground to share with another. If things aren't meshing between the two just give it five seconds or the appearance of a squirrel and things will right themselves sooner or later.

Seeds that explode like grenades. "Huh. I wonder if you can use those in cooking." Because who wouldn't love to give a special someone in their lives a Brownie Surprise?

Botanical Weaponization, tonight on the Discovery Channel.

When Lunair suggests the three of them grabbing a table Dom looks ready to dismiss that offer as well. "It's alright. I've still got a lot of things left to sort through."

Nate's retort about sending her a text brings a thoughtful frown to a monochromatic face. "You know..I don't seem to have your number. Must be a problem with caller ID."

She's still not going to give the poor guy any ground. "You just go right ahead and have at it. I'm sure you'll find her mind to be a most fascinating place. Don't let me get in the way, apparently I have a habit of doing that."

(Idiot wouldn't know perfection if it came up and kicked him in the groin.)

Lunair might be a little sympathetic, if she could figure out ... She looks baffled. She nods. She looks owlish, eyebrows lifted. Well, then. Not much she can do with texting. She smiles faintly. She'll quietly request a table then, while Nate gets his beer on. She hms softly. What Wade is up to. "Jobs now and then. We got to beat up a zombie pirate ship," Yes indeedy. Their adventures are weird and whacky still. "He's kinda busy sometimes, but. We did try to help a witness and -" Yup. Wadestuff!

Lunair pauses at Domino's words. Lunair is definitely - off. But she looks puzzled. At the grenade seed, she hms. "It's possible, I think." She tilts her head at Domino's polite refusal. "That's okay. Another day. Or something. Maybe not. Er-" She didn't want to assume. Sigh. "Well, it would be fun to have you by sometime then." Yes. Lunair's on a surprisingly even keel today. Even if even keel is still really, really odd. She glances between them worriedly at talk of her mind being a fascinating place. She might also be making a note never to get on their bad sides. Still, she looks ... puzzled.

Nate looks at Domino again, and exhales in a sigh. Absolute no quarter given. Though in all fairness, she hasn't blown his head of yet, instead preferring the death of a thousand cuts.

(Well, at least I know I won't be invited to any of her dinners, so I'll survive that one!)

The gesture towards the table falls as Dom offers yet more in the way of verbal shots. "Maybe tonight may not be the best time." It's time, however, to pick up the pizza. "Lunair, please tell Wade that Cable says 'hi' and that I'm back in town?" He'd like to make some sort of contact.

He nods at the news that work is still something of an interest to Deadpool. Not a bad thing, really. "He should know where--" and looking back at the albino, he lets his words end there before he exhales.

"Let me get my pizza." And stop for a six pack (no, a case!) on the way home.

Digging out his wallet, he's looking around for the particular counter person who'd taken his initial order.

Lunair's suggestion/offer is responded to with a true, decent-natured smile from Domino. "Yeah, another day." (Or something.) Truth is that she's not yet ready to be around Cable for any length of time. Last night he had asked her what she wanted him to do in order to be forgiven. She's still giving it some thought.

She's also got a few of her belongings to collect.

The pale skinned woman gives the pair a brisk wave then turns and starts to walk for the door. She gets a few steps out before turning to say over her shoulder "Don't worry, I'll take care of getting my things," with a jingle of keys coming from the palm of her hand.

Nate's keys.

Turns out she remembers where he likes to keep those on his person. Fancy that.

Hmm. Lunair looks quietly concerned. "Sure thing. I can give you my number if you want," She nods. So at least if she gets shot or set on fire, she can send one last text or something before then. Maybe. "Where?" Headtilt. She just sort of blinks owlishly. "Okie dokey." She'll go with that. Even if she feels like she's missing something here. An elephant in the room. A really big one in a hat with sparklers stuck into it with Miley Cyrus flailing on its back. And that's just /awkward/.

Either way, Lunair smiles politely and will place her order in turn, then quietly away.

Nate had also asked that she say something. Anything. At least that's what he'd yelled at the air once Domino had departed.

Be careful what you wish for, big guy. There was lots of 'saying things' and not a damned single one of them gave the man any hope. But, he's got to believe that because he doesn't have a hole in his head, there's still a chance. Somewhere.

What's the point of having all that time before him?

Paying for the pizza, finally, is taken care of, and he's got his hands full of pizza box. "That would be great, thank you." Now comes the awkward manipulation of box and in a growl, Nate simply ... changes his left arm to a quick recording device so he can play back the number later.

Spinning around at the sound of his keys jangling in Domino's hands, however, Nate begins to move quickly towards the door and towards the key-bearer. Who dares get in his way when he's on the move, and with such determination?

Nope. Nobody.

"Dom...! Dammit!"