2012-09-29 Natural Acting

" |This is roast /duck/. I want roast /chicken/.| " Deadpool is having an argument with a Stereotypical Chinatown Lady, who is wearing a gaudy mandarin style dress and her hair done up in a tight bun. Despite being about seventy years old and maybe five feet tall, she's squawking furiously and gesticulating angrily up at Deadpool. " |No you didn't! You said you wanted duck, so, I give you duck!| " They are, apparently, both fluent in Mandarin Chinese. For anyone who doesn't understand Mandarin, it's a hilarious scene anyway as the two jabber on at one another.

Starfire had just landed in Chinatown and was slowly making her way her through the narrow streets. She drew quite a few looks. Whether it's because her skin is orange, she has glowing green eyes or obscenely long red hair. Or maybe it's the tight white and purple leather outfit. Perhaps a combination of all the above. Or maybe it's the fact that she looks completely lost and in absolute awe of, well, everything!

There's someone else in the area that happens to know Chinese. Fluently. Which would make sense, as the woman that speaks it is, in fact, Chinese. Long, straight black hair done up in the back with a pair of artistically painted chopsticks, formal business attire, small briefcase in hand, and cosmetic touches that look like they were laser-etched right upon her face, she's all about having a presentation which commands attention. It might seem kind of a surprise then when she stops walking right beside where Deadpool is arguing away, cutting in as politely as possible when she says " |I would highly recommend the duck, it possesses a level of flavor which chicken could never hope to achieve. You will not be disappointed.| " Who invited this chick? She invited herself, thank you.

Hel-LO, Nurse! If Deadpool could do the cartoon wolf thing, he'd be google-eyed and stamping on the ground. As it is, he gives her a thorough once over, then turns back to the old lady. " |I /will/ keep the duck, then, on the recommendation of the incredibly hot lady with the excellent advice.| " He tucks the duck back under his left arm, then turns to look at the interloper. " |Hi, hot stuff. What brings you down to Market Street? You like duck? I have here on excellent authority that this duck is /fantastic/.| " he croons, waggling the baggy in front of her.

The argument, of course, draws Starfire's attention. Slowly, she makes her way over to the group. She watches it all from a few steps away for several moments before her head tilts off to one side. She has absolutely no idea what's being said and it's both confusing and frustrating.

She can solve this problem though! Quite easily. With a determination, she closes the few steps to the groups and taps Deadpool on the shoulder. When he turns, she reaches out and lifts the mask just enough that she can lean in and kiss him properly.

What? It solves the language barrier issue...

Dear PlayHouse Forums: I never thought it would happen to me.

That was easy. She knew from reading this man's profile that his mind worked in peculiar ways. Now she has a chance to study it in person. She's just starting offer a formal greeting, introducing herself as "Lin Daiy--u..." Alright, now who is this oddly colored woman that stepped into the conversation and kissed the masked one? This isn't part of the plan! Fortunately, she can roll with the punches. " |Ah--my apologies, I did not realize that you were here with another!| " Her attention then promptly turns to Starfire, offering that same formal meeting to her next. She switches back to English, call it a hunch. "My apologies, Miss, I did not mean to interrupt." Granted she was kind of here first, but it's no matter. All part of the plan!

Deadpool is a kissed. He is, despite being batshit insane, incredibly awesome, SUPER sexy, and the darling of Marvel Comics, is a guy who appreciates a good kiss. He grabs Starfire back and kisses her enthusiastically, like a man who hasn't been properly smooched in a few years, or whatever. When she breaks, he breaks too, but doesn't disengage the embrace too quickly. "Well, damn, and hello to you too!" he informs the red-headed babe. He turns back to Mystique, remembering the Hot Asian Chick, letting Starfire occupy whatever proximity she likes to his *ahem* hard, muscled bod. "Her? Never met her before in my life. But man, whatever country she's from, I need to /buy a summer home/." He eyes Lin Daiyu, or makes his mask-holes aim at her, anyway. "So, uh, what were you saying there?" he asks, his nimble brain leaping back on track.

Starfire grins when the kiss is broken. He had a much more pleasant reaction than the one she kissed to learn English! In fact, she's rather fond of that reaction! She even decides, for now, to stay rather close to him. He's so much more fun!

Her eyes lift to Lin as she tosses a piece of that long hair back over her shoulder. |Oh, you didn't so no need to apologize,| she says in perfect Mandarin.

And then she turns a teasing smile to Deadpool. "It is impossible for you to buy a home where I am from, actually."

Hmm, a choice of languages. Seems as though things are shifting over to English, Lin follows suit. When Starfire assures her that she isn't interrupting she smiles first at the oddly colored woman, then at the oddly dressed man. "If you would both forgive me for saying, but you do not look like the others do. Your appearances have been drawing attention. If I may be bold and ask, are you both what they are calling mutants..? I have been hearing so much about it in the news." It's a pointless question, she already knows that Deadpool is. Proper set-up is important, and with this Starfire wildcard tossed into the mix she has to change up her gameplan to match.

Hah, shows what SHE knows. Deadpool's not a mutant at all!

"Me, mutant? Hell no," Deadpool declares proudly. "They call me Deadpool. Also, Wade, sometimes, but only to my friends. I'm genetically modified to be one hundred percent /awesome/. I am legen-wait for it- /dary/," he says, with emphasis. "Got bored with the, uh, professional modelling thing, so I decided to go get filthy rich by working the stock market. So now I'm, uh, a rich... race car driver?" Deadpool considers that. "Yeah, we'll go with that. Why do you ask, anyway?" he says, turning his focus on Lin. He tosses an arm over Starfire's shoulders and just enjoys the hell out of the scantily-clad alien hanging out next to him. "What, you guys don't have an immigration process, or something?" he mutters to Starfire, as an aside. "Green cards? Work visas? Modelling contracts?"

Starfire arches a brow at Lin. "A wha?" Her head tilts off to one side, ever so slightly, in an expression of curiosity. "I am not... whatever it is you just said. I am not from this planet."

She blinks as Wade's arm goes around her but says nothing on it. She, obviously, doesn't have the personal space issues that most people seem to. "No," she answers him before thinking for a moment. "I do not know what a modeling contract is. I am from a planet called Tamaran."

One's playing hard to get (in a sense,) the other's an alien. An -alien?!- Mysti--err Lin doesn't know what to make of that one! Granted that means the other woman isn't human, but at the same time she believes that -mutants- should rule this planet. What's up with the foreign exchange students, now!

Ahem.

"I ask as a concerned citizen," Lin cuts right back in with fingertips resting against her sternum. Her expression, tone, and demeanor never falter for a second. Even when Deadpool outright says 'we'll go with that.' If it had been only the two of them she could have cut right through all of this like a razor. "I hear conflicting stories, many for what they are calling this registration act and many more against it. I was hoping to hear the opinions of one whom it would affect directly if the act carries through. I apologize for troubling you both, it seems as though I was in error." One more look is passed back to Starfire, asking "Tamaran..is this far away from here?" Unfortunately, she would not end up hooking two mutants today if there is only one to hook.

"A hot... alien...?" Squee! Deadpool doesn't seem to realize he said that bit out loud. "Woah, well, hey now, you know- you don't have to be a mutant to have concerns. You know, this registration thing- it effects everyone equally, you know? I mean, where do they draw the line? Does that yutz Tony Stark need to register? Does Captain America? He's not a mutant. Or Thor, despite how incredibly dreamy and good looking he is?" Deadpool coughs into his hand. "For example, you are just /incredibly hot/. Should you register your good looks? Just because you're super awesome, or cool, or smart, does /that/ mean you should have to register?" He looks skyward, fists on hips, and letting Starfire lean against him. "Registration is /control/. And, as a law-abi- I mean, a good ma-, er... as a /person/, I /oppose this bill/." He surrepitously clicks the 'play' button on his sPod, and patriotic theme music starts playing. Man, I wish I had, like, a waving flag and a few jets overhead right now.

Starfire blinks a moment and looks at Deadpool curiously. "Hot?" She frowns a moment. "I do not feel as though my body temperature is running particularly high at the moment." Of course, considering she has absolutely no idea what they're talking about, she doesn't really have anything to say on the matter. Instead, she contents herself with looking around at the wares of Chinatown.

Lin presents an almost embarrassed smile back to Deadpool, then clarifies for his companion of the hour: "He means to say that he finds you very attractive." Which you are, honey, but still. Aliens, guh! You'd think they could at least learn something about the natives before crashing the party. Wade has an awful lot to say, however. This is good, it puts him back into his element and it gives her a lot more to work with. Then there's music playing, as if this whole thing had been rehearsed and he was looking for an opportunity to show the world how he spends his free time. So to recap: One is clinically insane, the other is from another world and is apparently pretty clueless about things. Excellent.

"You seem very passionate about opposing this idea," Lin says as if to keep nudging Wade in the right direction. "I hear what you are saying, though equally strong arguments are being made in favor of it. Some of its supporters are quite wealthy, pushing their resources toward seeing that it is passed. Do you have a plan to counter their momentum?"

"Extremely attractive," Deadpool affirms towards Star. He turns back to Lin. "I... that is, you might... one might say, that there are, indeed, some um... plans in place that may... provide a degree of bilateral support to... the issue." Deadpool is not a good liar. Deadpool is also incredibly nuts. So, it breaks about even. "Why do you ask? Are you planning to possibly support one side or the other?" Deadpool considers this. "If you weren't, we wouldn't be having this conversation," he says, ticking off on his fingers. "You'd instead be telling me how incredibly hot a huge, well-armed man is. And you have said nothing about my guns. Which means you're used to them. Which means..." He pauses, four fingers up on his fist. "...means..."

The explaination causes Star to look over at Wade and smiles, almost preening. "Good to know." She may not know exactly what they're talking about but she understands the tone. And she understands enough of what Deadpool and Lin said that she's starting to become somewhat uncomfortable. "It means she's either fishing for information, pushing her agenda or trying to recruit for whichever side she supports would be my guess." What? No one ever said Kori was tactful.

Those darkened eyes of Lin's momentarily glance back to the alien standing there, a smile etched upon her pristine face. Very well, then... It would seem like it's now or never. With a deft touch she snaps open her briefcase and reaches inside, those intense eyes leaping back to Deadpool and locking on. Just like that she's switched to speaking Russian, every detail from the motions of her body to her words being expertly executed. " |There is a man here in town who is becoming a problem for us all, he is well guarded and resourceful. His financial involvement with seeing the act get passed cannot go unpunished.| " A plain folder is brought forward, held out to Deadpool " |Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to eliminate the target and clear his overseas account so they cannot rely upon his support any longer. These funds will become your payment. Good luck, Agent.| "

Dun dun- dun dun dun-dun dun dun NANANANAAAA NANNAANAAAAA NANANAAA NA-NA. Deadpool is rather obnoxiously humming the Mission: Impossible theme music. Which is oddly appropriate, because he kind of resembles the guy, except for being like a foot and a half taller. | "Eliminate, eh?" | Wade considers the contract information, then stuffs it casually into one his multitude of belt pouches. | "I can do that. Now, who are you, really? I don't recognize you and I don't like working for strangers, even incredibly hot chicks. Well, except for that one time. ...several times." |

That's a word Starfire knows all too well. Green eyes narrow as she takes a step away from both of them and she begins to list herself into the air. "No, you really can't." She sounds almost sad that it's coming to this. There's even a little sigh to back the tone in her voice. "There are, undoubtedly, proper channels to go through if you don't like what's happening but I'm afraid I really can't allow something like what you're planning."

The alien understood Russian. Well crud. Lin suddenly snaps upright and calls out "Cut! That's a wrap everyone, nicely done!" She even drops the super professional act, pulling the sticks out of her hair and shaking it out behind her with a relieved sounding sigh, "That was perfect! I think we got it this time. Miss, I don't know your name but you did wonderfully back there," she says with a smile and a hand in greeting being offered to Starfire. "You can levitate, too? Stellar! Come on back to the ground, honey. Seriously you two, fantastic work! Wade, the music? -Perfect.- Who wants coffee?"

Hell, it's worth a shot.

Wade knows a fight when someone's spoiling for one. Levitating flying chick (super HOT levitating flying chick) who he doesn't know, but apparently speaks at least three languages and comes out of nowhere and starts pronouncing 'I can't let you do that?'. Yeah, pass. "Right? Man, I love being a professional actor, who is also doing a 'street scene'," he announces to everyone nearby. "I am /all about the coffee/," Wade agrees. "Hey! Hey Bob! Wrap, Bob!" he shouts at some guy across the street who has a cell camera. 'Bob' waves back, then walks off. "Wow, that was a great scene. Can we send an agent her way, or something, to get her some reaction shots?" Deadpool stretches. "And where's my agent and my set assistant? Get Mike on the line," he says, imperiously. He reaches for a cell phone and starts yelling into it. It's mostly incoherent. "...and ONLY GREEN M&Ms in my DRESSING ROOM!" he concludes, snapping it shut. "So what, lunch? Sardi's?" Deadpool asks, brushing his hands together rapidly.
 * OOC| Mystique giggles madly!

Starfire's eyes narrow further. They mistake her naivete(sp?) for stupidity. Her green eyes flicker back and forth between the two. "I find that rather insulting." Her eyes linger on Wade a moment. "Such a shame..." She lifts herself higher into the air, well out of reach of either. "Would be more convincing if my eyesight less keen than it is." She can see, perfectly, for 35 miles in any direction. No cameras. And a street of very confused looking people. What of them speak English. "It'd be in your best interest not to do anything." And then she's turning to take off. Time to talk to a few friends.

Damned aliens... Lin now knows where her stance is on extraterrestrial life. They can burn right along with homosapiens! Fortunately, this one's choosing to extract herself from the situation. One of these mutants can teleport and the other can assume any persona that she chooses, so..! Her plan isn't yet ruined, trying to prevent this from happening is not going to be easy, and luckily for Lin she kept all of the mission specifics inside of the folder rather than saying what they are out loud. Now, hands on hips, she watches Starfire fly away with a slight scowl upon her face. "Prude." Back to Deadpool, she continues with "To cut past all of the BS, the offer stands. Off this guy and you will make me happy. Do a good enough job and there may be more work for you down the road."

"...wow." Deadpool shakes his head. "She is /right/ up there on the crazy/hot scale. Is it weird that I still kind of think she's hot? What does that say about me?" He considers it. "That she is /super freaking hot/. I mean, damn. Those /legs/," he groans. "Ehh. Oh well. Maybe I can set that right down the road. Who knows, maybe she's into bad boys." He considers her offer again. "Yeah, that rates about right. What kind of timeframe didja want? I am, like, /crazy/ busy with this MASH rerun on cable."

"Yeah, not too bad," Lin seconds while watching that departing form as long as she's still visible. "Not too into the squealing foreigners though, even if they are the sexy sort." Sigh. Right. "Details are in the file, he's set to be in town for the next five days. Anywhere within that timeframe will suffice, the act won't get passed that quickly. The sooner the better, though," she finishes while turning to look back your way, the intensity back to her gaze. "What you do with our eavesdropping friend I leave to your discretion." With any luck she can come to count on you to see these little side jobs through. It could very well be that they're fighting for the same cause, but she's not going to admit to it. Not yet. Be a good minion, get a treat. The Brotherhood's always looking for new talent, after all.

"That ditz?" Deadpool jerks a thumb at the departing girl. "She'll probably get back to the clubhouse and realize she's got a date or something. If not-" he mimes an explodey gesture. "Not terribly worried about it. So, more about you. What evil organization do you represent, and how'd you find me in Chinatown?" he asks, giving her a shrewd once-over. Twice over. He checks her out.

"One can hope," Lin sourly replies. "Last thing I need is some wannabe hero type trying to 'prevent disaster.'" Oooh, how much information to part with... "I represent myself, Deadpool. My actions benefit a group as well, true, but for now this business is strictly between you and I. As for finding you..." she momentarily trails off, working her hair back into those two sticks. "You don't keep the smallest of profiles, do you? Harassing a poor, elderly woman over which bird you plan on eating," she adds with a somewhat wicked smirk. "You have a reputation, which is why I sought you out and knew how to find you." The way it's said implies a bit of 'duh,' like how else would she have gotten to this point? She's good at what she does, everyone should know this.

"I wanted /chicken/. She gave me /duck/." He looks down at his baggie. "...I don't even /like/ duck. You /mislead/ me," he says with an accustaory finger gesture. "You came on to me like a super hot stranger, and then that redhead kissed me, and now you're being all mercenary and the /hot redhead is gone/." Deadpool is /very/ put out. "This day is not turning out like I wanted it to. All because I just wanted some GORRAM CHICKEN WITH MY RICE A RONI FOR DINNER!" he howls at no one in particular.

Lin releases a slow breath, nonchalantly stating "Case in point." Go, Captain Subtlety! Part of her is sorely tempted to shift into the alien's form and steal her voice, but that card's best kept close to the chest. You didn't need to know about her particular gifts. "Spend this idiot's vast amounts of money on a life's supply of chicken for all I care, what -I- need from -you- is confirmation that you can complete this task for me. Can I trust you to handle it? If not then tell me now so I can stop wasting my time here and track down my secondary pick."

"Oh... hmmph." Deadpool grumps like a twelve yeard old. "Fine. I'll do it. But /under protest/. And /next/ time your organization sends a recruiter, they can send someone who's a little bit nicer and not so stuck up." He grouses and ties off his lunch, makes sure he's still got the contract wadded up in his pocket, and then sulks off down the road. "And if she's a hot redhead, I might be a little bit more pleasant about the whole thing!" he calls back over his shoulder.