2013.09.28 - Future Situation

The Ship.

Graymalkin.

By any other name, it's a wonder of technology that isn't even in the 'to be dreamed of' stage as far as humanity in the 21st century is concerned. A marriage of true sentience and technology, the space ship lives and breathes, as it were. Every function is part of its 'biologic' system.

And it is here that Cable feels the most 'at home'. He is 'one' with the ship, perhaps by virtue of his having brought it back through time, or perhaps due to the fact that he's keyed into its systems via the virus, or because of the telepathic link to the 'brain', the essence of the Ship. Regardless? It's as close to home as he'll get.

Now, Nathan Summers, Cable, is sitting at one of the consoles, his gaze fixed at a screen as he watches flashes of images that dance across the screen in seeming 'fast forward mode'. Happenings all around the world, as seen by network news, and live satellite feeds (not to mention co-opted streaming cameras..). And through each, he's got a silent, running commentary by Ship dancing in his head-

~ Watch for this.. it seems that a bombing of a mall will set it off... ~ and ~ That will resolve itself in three years with the natural death of the Foreign Minister... ~

Nate has 'invited' Domino to the Ship. (It IS a little more comfortable than the lab in the tunnels, and the apartment isn't quite set up with all the amenities.) But, there is a reason, a purpose to it all that will, eventually, be revealed.

Time. All in its time.

It's probably a good thing then that Domino's usual habit is to cut out and block off anything resembling a memory from her own mind. It could quickly become a bad thing for her if anyone found out that she was exposed to this level of technology. Her way of making sure no one gets anything from her? Make sure there's nothing there to give.

Of course, it has its drawbacks as well. Not to mention if someone knows where to look they can still gain access to her memories. Like Nate. Which is just another reason why she's still pissed off with the guy.

They're well in the running for 'most complicated relationship of the decade.'

He's got his monitors to stare at. She'd get bored to death filling in for such a position. Instead she sits not too far away, and by 'sit' it's really more her being slumped back into a chair with heavy boots crossed over the edge of the accompanying table, which is currently covered in weaponry so carefully organized that it's not unreasonable to say that no edge of any piece of ordnance is any less than two inches away from everything else around it. Kinda like an exploded Tetris board.

Of course, she's always got at least one in her hands at any given time. Her current choice is a six millimeter bullpup railgun, something which has so frequently been left out of her operational gear due to difficulty in acquiring ammo for it. Around here it's no longer as big of a concern.

"I'm right here, Nate," she calls out without looking away from the rifle. "Can we forgo the psychic network bullshit, already? If a bomb is what you need to make sure your next week is all hunky dory then I'll set the damned charge, myself."

As the news streams on, there are flashes of what could be considered 'familiar territory' in terms of geography, topography, and biograpy. More than once does the form and figure of Magneto grace the screen, and with each picture after, Nate sits a little straighter in his seat. There's no question that he hears Domino, however, as a smirk begins to crease his face.

"Next month, and we'll have to wait on that. After all, there's a sale on boots next week." comes in an amused tone.

Though now, Cable's attention seems divided, and finally, he rises from his seat, "Okay, Ship. Save and terminate program." Once that is done, the large man begins his pace, his stalking, only to end up next to the seated, slouched albino merc. He doesn't have to reach out to touch any of the guns; he's got telekenesis! And one of the guns spins around, only to leap into his hand. Once there, he spins it a couple of times, giving his own idle hand something to do.

"I have something to show you."

"And gods know how difficult it is trying to shop for those size twenty feet of yours," Domino offers back in a perfectly conversational tone while testing the follower spring on the compact weapon's magazine.

She doesn't move with Nate's approach. Where the heck else is she going to go around here? All of the fun toys are right here! And..in Cable's hand, apparently. There's a *shTIK* as she firmly snaps the mag back into the rifle's stock, her white outlined brow hooking upward as she stares up at the mountain of a man.

He's holding her gun. One of her ten millimeters. Everything else is just 'a' gun but those two are most definitely -her- guns. It's a bit of a monster in her smaller hands but a man like Nate makes it look like a toy. She doesn't intervene but there's a definite look about her now.

"You've just shown me something," she replies in a flat tone. She's not sure if he can pick up the energy and memories associated to that which is almost constantly with her, a device which has claimed more lives than she can keep track of, but that's his problem if he looks too closely into it.

A heavy sigh soon follows the albino's words before she swings her feet back to the floor, bracing the rifle back against her shoulder. "What's the bad news of the day?"

Right back into mission mode. More or less.

Not as if Nate ever shoots anyone in the back of the head! No worry about that, thank you, so no need to move at his approach. But, he knows that her attention will be gained by taking up one of those beloved tens. Too bad he's not a psychometric psi. The stories he could hear! But, the movement of an item, the touch of an item always brings up thoughts of its owner, and Cable isn't one of those telepaths that worries too much about 'privacy'. He's been given a gift for a reason, after all!

It's one more flip of the gun before he holds it out grip first to its proper owner. "Bad news, the sale is only 20% off."

But really! Cable exhales in a sigh and holds out a hand, in which his drover's coat flies across the room and is caught easily. A fedora of sorts also makes the same flight, along the same path, and eventually ends up upon that shock of white hair. "Gear up, Dom. I need to show you something before we really get to the good stuff. And all this is to start a war in order to avert one later."

That's really the core of the matter, too. Trust. Now Dom can trust Cable to not respect her personal space. Granted, she's perfectly aware that he did it just to get her attention, and it worked, but emotions aren't meant to be rational.

When it's offered back she hesitates only a second before reaching out for it, nonchalantly replying with "Those bastards."

With Cable getting his coat and hat in order she fits the first sidearm back into its holster, unable to completely hide the thin smirk from the edge of her lips. "Going out for some fresh air?"

It's followed up with another heavy sounding voice, "When isn't it. It'd be nice if, just once, we could avoid future catastrophe by running a red light or something."

She might take a little longer to gear up compared to Cable but she's by no means slow about it. One weapon after another finds its way back onto her person, followed with the heavy black trench to keep everything out of sight. Just in case.

"How do you know that we haven't?" Cable can't help it as he makes the final checks before departure. He needs his own firearms, which pretty much ends up being a souped up shotgun. Or two. Hanging from each side from a holster. "You know that mosquito you squished the other night?" is deadpanned.

Still, he's ready to go. Nate steps next to Dom again, and looks down, holding out his hand. "Neena?" is offered quietly at the same time. "Timeslide. Sixty.. on my mark."

Three.

Two.

One.

"Mark."

The moment the word is spoken, everything blurs, and only slowly coalesces around them again. (Why does he feel like the Ghost of Christmas from 'Christmas Carol'?)

Standing in a city that isn't remarkably different than any other, the distant shore can be discerned. All around them is the business of business. There is a feeling of prosperity all around; and the newspapers (Yes, even in the future, there are still newsstands and the printed word) hold promising headlines.

"Good point," Dom admits. "You never tell me anything. Why start now?" Pause. "See, I -knew- there was something shady about that damned mosquito. You're welcome."

There had been a time when she didn't mind her real name being used. By Nate, at least. That time may be living well in the past by now but if she's ever going to get to a point where it might be okay to hear it being spoken again? This would be the place to start.

Just the two of them.

"I really hate time travel."

One word and a blur later and they're in another time and another place. Dom automatically clenches her jaw, fighting back the flinch that follows from the jump. (Right... You know the drill, girl. No drinks for the first ten minutes.)

Swallowing down an urge to groan she pushes her attention away from her own discomfort to look at the world they've now dropped themselves into. She does so with a completely blank expression. Buildings still standing, sunlight still reaching the ground, no red-hued sky... "This one doesn't seem so bad. Or are we getting a drop on that boot sale?"

"They've long since sold out," Cable mutters darkly. "Shop closed down due to non-payment of taxes." Of course, he could be completely making all this up. "But the mall gave its all."

Now, Nate nods in a direction, down a back alley that appears to open out along the other side. He begins to move at the same time, though he's got to navigate around the random bits and pieces of stuff. Along the way, at least Nate offers up some bit of information. "Just after elections. Mutants have gained multiple seats, and two of the Presidential cabinet members are mutants." Familiar landmarks, after a fashion, creep up in the skyline, marking the city as Metropolis.

"But, there is that one catch."

Domino simply nods once, "Good for them."

Seriously. Not important. Fun to be sarcastic about, but that's all the good it serves.

As for the future, the timeline they're now invading, there's still something important left to be shared between the two. The reason proper why they're now here. As Nate starts walking she's right by his side, hands disappearing into trench pockets as she watches and listens to the world around them. Seems just fine so far, so...

What the hell is the catch? What's so horrible that they had to come here, that he has to show her directly?

There's probably another shoe joke to be had in here. Something about waiting for the other one to fall.

"What, did they outlaw coffee? This is the closest I've heard to Xavier's dream actually pulling through."

Cable nods his head, his gaze forward as they make their way towards the opening of the alley. "It is, actually. Things are good here, honestly good. Mutants are in office and there's no coercion, no holding anything over anyone's heads. The way it should have been once the bad parts of the Registration Act was struck back when."

Before boots hit that opening into the street, however, it's an order that comes from his lips. "Ship, side shift."

It's not a heartbeat later that as boots land upon the other side that the scene changes, and it doesn't appear that its all for the good. The pall over the area is almost palpable, and down the road there is a voice,

"Hey you! Stop right there!"

It causes Nate's head to spin around quickly at the sound, and reaching out to Domino, his pace quickens.

"Yeah, you!" sounds a little angrier, and now the command is taken up, "Call the cops! We got obvious muties!!"

"Same time, different results." As if Nate has to explain? "Down the road, we're headed to 101B on 7th."

Truth be told, Cable could easily teleport the pair, and he would normally. But there's a point to be made, and there is the potential that people will die to make that particular point. Just won't be them. Not today. Not then.

Another time, another shift. In time. Domino's head twists around as well, her first reaction to have a gun aimed at the exact point that she happens to be looking at only barely suppressed.

"Maybe later, we're late for the apocalypse!"

"And we're running," she adds in a mutter under her breath while sprinting along after Cable. "Not here two seconds and we're already fugitives. How romantic."

Playing around in the timestream is not Dom's usual area of expertise. Heck, she's only ever gone through these motions while at Nate's side. Each and every one is radically different from the last, as is how they're set to engage and what all they can and cannot do.

"We gonna destroy all of reality if we exchange fire this time around or am I free to fight for my life?" (Because I am -not-..dying..-here.-)

She can feel the weight of so many stares following them already. They do stand out, even amongst other mutants they have a presence all of their own. Singled out like they now are, they may as well be holding flashing lights over their heads.

"That your safehouse away from safehouse? This running thing's gonna get old real fast!"

Cable's own shotgun isn't far from his hand, and it's twitching as much as Domino's is. Knowing what he does, he's not above taking out a couple of Watchers or Hounds on the way.

"Something like that. There are some constants, after all. Something I picked up on over the years. First time, it was a surprise," and at the word, the shotgun -does- come out, aims and a sharp *BAM!* sounds a report. Just off to the side, making the attempt to flank, is another in some sort of law enforcement uniform.

The man crumples, a matte-black, mean looking weapon drops from his hand as he begins to bleed out all over the road.

"Oh, that should answer your question."

Say no more. (Or nothing at all!) As soon as the shotgun's brought out Dom's got a pistol in either hand. Opposition is anything aiming a weapon their way, she's not familiar with what they're packing but she's willing to bet they aren't friendly toward anyone packing an X-Gene.

The smaller woman jumps past the mouth of the next alley they pass by, arms sweeping around to pepper the windshield of an incoming squad car before catching a runner in the shoulder an instant before he could tackle either of them from the alley, itself. He hadn't been expecting her to be airborne at the time, either.

(At least the odds are still in my favor.)

"Constants, like people still hating on muties. I assume this isn't the war you were intending to start!"

Cable flattens himself against a wall and as Domino goes high, he goes low with another blast from his shotgun. One, two... and he's spinning around in order to catch that one more as the car careens around the corner.

Now, the response is a little quicker than even Cable expected, and he reaches out, "Time to take a quick spin!"

"Bodyslide by two!"

It's a hell of ride, to be sure, and landing in a room that has every hallmark of being Nate's, the mutant strides across the room to flick on the computers. As the come online, it's the same thing that comes across at least three monitors. News feeds in fast forward. A study in five-second visuals.

"If Genosha falls, they'll have taken out one of the main mutants that is making his stand. He's right. It's something of a war of survival, but it's more than that. If it falls, there'll be nowhere mutants can hide. I'll have Providence done by then, but even I can't hold out against the world." Nate doesn't relinquish his shotgun, mind. He's keeping it close. "The other world? Magneto keeps Genosha, and if you remember your history, it only takes a few years of reasonable thought and action before a terrorist organization finds respectability. The only variable there is Magneto will recognize the time when it's time to back off and be a real statesman."

Now they're leaving. "The party was just getting started, either we're staying or we're not!"

In another instant Domino has an answer to that matter, as well. Four walls, unknown location, but..no heat. She'll count that as an improvement. The hammers on both of her sidearms safely drop with a flick of her thumbs against the decockers, hands hanging loosely at her sides in case she finds something -else- to shoot at in short order. The screens aren't ignored when they're powered up but her focus is somewhat divided. Just how safe are they here?

"It all comes down to Magneto," she repeats without emotion. "Being in charge of a few hundred thousand people seems like a good motivator to clean up one's act," she agrees while walking closer and leaning forward to rest her hands, guns included, atop of the table. It gives her a good viewing angle from over the man's shoulder, too. "Still not sure why you felt I had to see this. So it's another future where mutant oppression runs high. We've not seen a Sentinel yet, just a bunch of xenophobes. It sucks, but who's to say this isn't how things are supposed to turn out?"

Cable rolls his head back as Domino takes her spot just over his shoulder, letting his attention linger for a second longer before he returns to the screen and the news at hand. "No. This is an alternate to our timestream. What 'could be'. They say that there are an infinite amount of breaks from a time stream, but that assumes there is one, major stream that is its basis, right? What doctors call 'baseline'. Everything that could happen is a branch. This, then, is a branch. There aren't any Sentinels because they've already done their job. We're it. Us, and maybe a few pockets. But at this point, there is no 'great man'. Our time is passing on this branch."

Nate exhales as he puts a hand back in search of her own. "For once, I wanted to be sure that you truly understood. Because we're going to have to go to Genosha, and it may mean that we'll be fighting other mutants with whom we .. don't have a quarrel with. That we understand and actually agree with. But this has to happen."

Now there's a feeling of another set of eyes staring at Domino. Just one set. One that carries with it a familiar weight. She tries to remain focused upon the screens but as Nate waits she eventually gives in, meeting his stare from above.

"So we've gone from 'common pest' to 'mostly extinct.' Alright, that's kind of a drag."

Then the hand is offered. At first she only looks at it, the palm catalogued as any anatomical portion normally would. Pressure points, joints, muscle placement, which bones are easiest to reach and break, assuming the hand isn't covered in metal at the time.

(C'mon, Dom. He's trying to reach out to you, here.)

Pale eyes look away as another long breath is held then released. Before her gaze can return a smaller, weaponless, hand reaches back for his.

"What the hell, Nate. It's just another job. We're not in this to make friends and share campfire stories. We're here because no one else wanted the job."

And because they also happen to be very good at it.

"You believe in this." Which means she does by proxy.

"Yes," Cable agrees. There's no mincing of words, really. 'Mostly extinct' works quite well in this case and happens to be true. For a moment, he lingers there, her small hand in his much larger paw, the natural, flesh and blood one. "Just another job. I just don't like having to pull a trigger on one of our own is all." More often than not, the man shows a remarkable benevolence to those mutants that perhaps are simply misguided, or lied to along the way, led astray.

Now, Nate lets her hand go as he swings around and rises to his feet. Taking a deep breath, he reaches out for her hand again and nods. "I do. And..." there is a pause before he looks up and narrows his eyes as if he's staring through the wall to that outside world.

"Let's go." If he was going to say anything else, it's lost for the current need to move. Retaking the shotgun (that never really left his possession), Cable heads through a door into another room. Lifting a section of floor that doesn't look too terribly moveable, there is a set of dark stairs. (Always dark stairs. Why light something that is supposed to be sekrit?)

"This way."

The stairs lead down to a long basement. A dozen or so people are gathered loosely there- mutants, one and all, it looks. A few are eating, or tending to simple chores such as cleaning weapons or preparing equipment. It has all the appearance of a guerilla fighting post. At the far end of the long basement, a long, simple table has been set up, surrounded by maps and computers, displaying all manner of tactical data. Five mutants stand around it, and with his back to the door, a shadowy figure stands with hands on the table, face concealed by the misshapen shadows cast around by the computers and dim, inadequate lighting.

A familiar, grating voice fills the room. "I want Gamma Strike to be on offensive. Delta will provide fire support. Don't move unless there's a good attack option available. I don't want anyone taking stupid risks." At the sound of Cable's heavy footsteps the shadowy figure turns. Backlit by the light, it's difficult to make out features. Thick shoulders and a featureless head make for a fearsome visage, a looming presence that dominates the room. "Cable. You've returned. And is that..." There's a long pause.

"DOMINO?!"

The shadow springs towards Domino and before she can so much as say boo to a goose, wraps her up in a giant bearhug. Lights flicker on, and Deadpool's red and black mask is beaming up at the pale albino he's holding up in the air. "I forgot how hot she was! You were! Are! Is this a dream? Is she real?" He buries his face in her cleavage mid-hug. "So soft and warm! She /is/ real, she /is/!"

There's a beat and he frowns. "Huh. No yellow text box. Guess this is a Cable/Domino scene, not a Deadpool scene. You guys can appear in my next scene and the other dude will be around."

There's another pause as if something funny was supposed to have been said. "Oh, white text box? He got killed in action a few years ago."

Deadpool drops Domino and clasps Cable's hand, turning his head to look at him and revealing an eyepatch over his left eye. "Glad you're back, Taternater. Do you like my Sekrit Room Dramatic Dark lighting?" he asks, gesturing at the dimmer switches that control the bright flourescents overhead. "How's the past? Did you bring me tacos? Or- no, tell me you got me chimichangas. TELL ME YOU HAVE CHIMICHANGAS," Deadpool demanands, clutching Cable's jacket. "THE SAVIOR OF MUTANTKIND DEMANDS HIS TRIBUTE OF DELICIOUS MEXICAN FOOD."

Bazinga.

"It's a Deadpool cameo!"

"We do what we have to," Domino replies with a familiar note of detachment. "If this were easy it wouldn't need us to do it."

When the big guy stands she reholsters her sidearms, already cleared and prepped to move before that hand comes out to her once more. Once she could understand, but twice..? Who does he feel needs the reassurance this time, her or himself? Not only that, does he have his head fully in the game today?

"Yeah," she agrees without emotion, turning to move onward without taking his hand a second time. He already knows she's there for him, he'll have to make do from there. Onward and downward, into..what. A bomb shelter? Another hidden lab? This guy's practically got everything at his fingertips.

Except one thing.

Maybe that's why he reached out to her that second time.

...

Make that two things. Their duo is now a trio, her place seemingly claimed as -Deadpool- takes Nate's hand. Before 'Taternater' can be said she's moved away from the pair, -both- of her pistols now drawn and aimed at Deadpool's head. "Just can't keep a good healing factor down, can you..."

Blink. Pale eyes start to widen.

"Did he just say 'savior of mutantkind'..?"

Chalk this up to yet another sekrit  that Cable keeps from Domino, but in this case he can't see the harm? And, it's a telling thing that he'd offered his hand, because, well...

She'll need it!

The moment the pair stride into 'view', such as it is, Wade's commands come as a familiar sound, sadly. He's more than aware of the difficulties, and even at times he's appreciative that the other man has been able to rise to the occasion. (Not that Nate thought he wasn't capable. Okay, it took a LOT- damn. Forgot the chimchangas!)

"Wade, how's it go-- hey, hey!" Yes, Domino is indeed warm, and in the flesh. "How could you forget-- never mind. I should shoot you just for thinking that. And forgetting it."

Nate is close now, and closes in on the table, giving the other man a clap on the back as well, ready and willing to get a progress report. "Tater-- the past sucks, but with any luck? You'll have your supply of chimis up there," and he points ceilingward. Though as the rant starts again, Nate takes a step and puts his hands up to make sure that his coat is released. "Calm down, and remember where you are."

Twisting about, Cable looks at Dom, and there's a level of sobriety in his tones, his voice set low, "If we don't succeed," and he points to Deadpool, "He's our man."

Deadpool promptly jams his fingertips into Domino's twin barrels. "Ah ah, don't be threatening the savior of the future," he scolds Domino. There's an awkward moment with him standing there with his fingers jamming the barrel of her twin ten-mils. "Hmm. Awkward Deadpool is Awkward."

With a *pop* he pulls his fingers free, casually swats a nut-tap at Cable with the back of his hand as he walks past, and fonzies at the two of them with a twirl before backing away. "Haaah! No, but seriously, this is great. I love it when Cable messes with the timestream. Not that I ever really notice the difference. I mean, from my subjective experience," Deadpool says, moving to a trashy little buffet table, "Taternater here just shows up periodically with, like, little differences. Like he doesn't remember Bob the Fish. Did we do Bob?" he asks, squinting at Cable through his left eye, turning the eyepatch on his right the other direction. "But we did the Tater thing. Oh man, Dom," Deadpool says through a mouth of very homemade and suspect looking churro. "There was this whole incident in Idaho with a truckload of potatoes. It was /hilarious/." He eats like he always has- messily and with no regard for propriety, leaning against the food dolly unconcernedly. "So like, what's the haps with the hottie with the autos?" he asks Cable, jerking a thumb in Domino's direction. "You tryin' to unscrew her timeline? Or wait, are you trying to get her to realize how /awesome/ the future is 'cause I'm in charge?"

He comically asides to Domino: "I mean, /my/ present is like, blorked beyond redemption, which sucks the big hairy, but Cable kicks in once in a while and helps out with things. So we let him party with the big kids." He throws up a mahalo and reaches for another churro.

It takes a lot to catch the albino off guard. Congratulations to Wade and Nate for creating one of these rare moments. Now Dom's grumpy, confused, quite well annoyed, and recovering from being molested by the Mouthy Merc.

It's a good thing she's got two guns ready. She's still debating on whether she's got two -targets- or not.

For the moment both of her guns stay leveled at Deadpool, though her attention is clearly torn. "You -knew- about this?!"

When Wade plugs the barrels with his fingers she replies by thumbing back the hammers. It's like playing chicken with bullets and regeneration.

"This whole damned situation is awkward, and if you don't keep your face to yourself next time then things are gonna get -real- awkward for you."

As Wade turns away Dom's left standing there, completely speechless, while pinning Nate once more with an utterly blank stare. She even loses the drive to keep the sights trained on the other merc, both of her arms wilting toward her sides. (What..?!)

"This is not happening," she mutters to no one in particular. It's more like trying to snap herself out of a twisted dream. It works, almost. Back to Cable she goes, carelessly stabbing in Deadpool's direction with the compensated barrel of one of her guns. "-He's- our man, are you -mental?- He can't find his way out of a plastic bag!" Again she pauses as that outstretched arm -drops- back to her side. "We had better succeed at whatever the hell we need to do."

It's a good thing she's not hungry, Wade never was all that beneficial to one's appetite.

Cable oofs at the nut-slap, and his hand automatically rises to shove at the man. "Watch it, Savior," is grumbled. "Don't push it."

He does give Wade the chance to explain, in his own inimitable fashion, which, frighteningly enough, is pretty much on target. "And I'm only messing with your time stream to make it easier on us all. Because I can only expect you to do so much." Nate offers a brief grin after saying it, however, and he cranes his neck to check out the table, what with all the sekrit plans of attack and countering the powers that be. "No, I don't know Bob the Fish. I do recall Fred the Rat. I also remember he'd eaten your chimis last time."

Cable glances back over his shoulder at Dom, and gives a lingering look. "What's the haps with the hottie?" Turning his regard back to Wade, his tones drop. "Not in any of your timelines, in your wildest dreams."

But!

"Actually, I was probably beating a dead horse in convincing her to do a job with me. Thank you for sending -that- particular message home."

Some things never change, and Nate turns his back on Wade to look at Domino, and takes a step forward, "You got that right." They have to succeed.

Deadpool immediately puts bunny ears up behind Cable's head and grabs a selfie of the two of them with a future looking cell phone, crossing his mask eyeholes and making a face- such as he can- just off Nate's shoulder.

"Oooh, awkward sexual tension is awkward!" Deadpool rubs his hands together gleefully. "Nate and Domino sittin' in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G," he sings, badly and out of tune, waving his fingers along to the music.

"And what do /you/ know about it?" he asks Nate, wagging an accusing finger at the guy and turning a baleful right eye on the cyborg, cocking the eyepatch on his left away. "Didn't anyone ever tell you? Domino and Deadpool, man, we're like, Gambit and Rogue. Scott and Jean. Star crossed lovaaaaahs!" he sings into his fist. "Why do you think she always hangs around me, and expresses her affection with bullets? Her guns are, like, the vessels of her /love/, man," he croons.

None of the mutants seem to be paying him any attention. They have learned that paying attention to Deadpool only encourages him. He pops up next to Domino. "It's ok, sweetheart. You missed your chance, what with you being all dead and stuff back in '13. Just a GIANT REMINDER- do /not/ eat the fish at the Jersey Benihana," he asides to Domino. "Also, Pats win the Superbowl, Knicks will take the pennant, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand Palin gets elected in 2016. So, y'know, feel free to vote however you want, I guess." He looks at Nate, then shrugs. "What? The fudge should I care about her timeline, she might as well make a few bucks betting the big games. I'm a /helper/."

Deadpool points at you. "Be a part of YOUR political process. Rock the vote 2016, kids!"

It doesn't take long for a pale white forehead to fall against the side of a matte black pistol, Domino standing alone and looking almost pained by all of this.

"Can we please just stick to the matter at hand, here?"

Wildest dreams, in a future that doesn't exist, with odds that not even her powers could hope to win at.

"As fascinating as my -entirely closed to discussion- personal life may be, we've got a bit of a crisis on our hands that involves us not needing this psychopath in order to save our own species--What?" Dead in '13? A white-marked brow hooks upward as she looks to Nate once more, confusion blending in with a 'tell me it's not true?' expression. He had better not be avoiding telling her -that- bit, as well..!

With all of the information that gets dumped onto her next she pinches her eyes shut and holds both of her guns ceilingward in a silent plea for silence, holding for a moment before turning and pacing around the bunker. "You just mixed LSD with a few too many Lambics again, Dom, it'll pass..." (Oh please let it pass.)

Nate stares as Deadpool sets up the selfie, and makes to push at the man again. "Wade.." comes out as a warning, low and slow. "You can't lie to a telepath." Does he need to say more?

Shaking his head, he starts again. "Don't pretend you know stuff. Just stick with the business at hand." Nate waves a hand in front of those eyeholes and he intones, "Focus. Focus."

Now, have the pair seen enough?

Hell yes.

Though, truth be told, yes, Cable has dropped in more than once on Deadpool to give him a hand, and though he doesn't want to give the man credit. If it happens, it's well outside of ear shot. And only after a requisite number of days have passed so he can conveniently forget all those other ideosyncracies.

Shaking his head at Dom in that inquiring look, Nate looks dead serious for that response. "At least the Cubs don't win the Series. And, the Pats already won. They're not due for another--" Oh yeah. 60 years.

Heh.

"Okay, Wade. Show me what you got, then Dom and I can leave. We've got a war to start."

Wade taps his chin judiciously and reviews the maps with his good left eye, scratching the eyepatch on his right. "Well, we're doing pretty goooooood considering that we lost Omega Cell last week," he says. He snags another chalupa and grabs a few messy bites. "Liek, obliterated. The Purists busted 'em outside of Scottsdale and set off a gravibomb. Was messy," he comments. One of the nearby mutants retches. Deadpool nods sympathetically at the guy, them offers him a chalupa. The guy turns and hurls into a bucket.

"Like I said, messy. Ummm.... I think we lost Providence, too," he says, gesturing at the island that looks like Genosha on the world map. "I mean, I don't have it concrete, but they put her head on a spike outside of the Imperator's Folly, and so, yeah."

He waggles the chalupa at another screen. "So, between that, the last of the Guardian sweeper robots hitting Liberated New Egypt, we're down to about a thousand worldwide." He taps the screen with some refried bean finger, then frowns and wipes it on his Deadpool Costume(tm). "I've had everyone broken down into independent cells, like you suggested. I'm the only one who has all of the data at any given time, which is boring, and stupid, but, like you said." Deadpool sighs heavily. "Soooo boooooring being in charge."

He reaches for the side of the monitor and rips off what looks like a piece of cybernetic technology, and jams it into his left arm, where his accelerated healing factor subsumes it under his skin. The monitors all go dead.

"See, this is why I'm in charge," he explains to Domino. "I'm the only one they can't kill. Can't torture me. All of it's stored up here," he says, tapping the side of his skull. "I get shot, it all comes back. They killed me five times and I bounced back every time. Tortured me for a year straight once when I got caught outside the Madripoor Crater. That's when White Text Box bit it," he says, almost sadly. "He wasn't funny, but damnit, some of us need a straight man for an internal monologue!"

"See, right there! He would have said something funny right there!"

"Excuse me, I have something in my eye."

It doesn't take Dom long to wrinkle her nose, as well. Not because of the fate of Omega Cell so much as the other guy's reaction in the bucket. It passes quickly enough, fortunately without needing a bucket of her own.

'Providence?' But..isn't that Genosha? Actually, hold that thought. "Only a thousand?" she repeats, rejoining the two while quietly putting her weapons away. Again. "Damn. What happened to the heavy hitters, did they get taken out or are they also underground?"

'Madripoor Crater.' (Well, that's one improvement in this future.)

True enough, he is hard to kill. She's tried to put him down a couple of times, herself. It's almost become a hobby. "Are you sure you know what you're doing with that info, Wade?" (Or anything, for that matter?)

The part about a White Text Box is met with a puzzled look that's quickly followed by one of the smartest things a woman in her position could do when dealing with a man like Wilson.

She ignores him.

"It's called an eyepatch," she helpfully points out while grabbing a spare seat for herself. Sitting backwards, naturally. With chin propped upon folded forearms. This whole situation really is a mess, and to fix it they get to start themselves a war? Truly the fun never ends.

It's a lot of data to process. She can't even figure out where to start in calculating the odds. The only one here that might have the slightest idea of where to go from here?

Pale blue eyes turn back to Cable.

"What's our first move?"

Cable's got an iron (enough) stomach to deal with Wade, though the news of Omega Cell isn't very welcome. "How did they--" Oh. "Think their movements were leaked?" Because that could mean some real problems. Which, in turn, gives credence to the recommendation that Wade be the ONLY one who knows what the hell is going on at any given time. For the most part.

"You lost Prov-- Wade! How in the hell--" Great. "So, exactly how far forward have we gotten?" We?

Running a hand through his short, cropped, white hair, Nate looks back at Domino. "A thousand," is repeated slowly and quietly. "Wade," and while his voice rises to address his compatriot, his gaze is still upon the albino merc. "I'm going to regret this, but you're going to have to regroup in Providence. It's under water, and her access is coded. But, before I go, I'm going to give you LIMITED access. That means you're still a guest. No rats. Clean up after yourself."

Nate's words come back around to Domino, and he remains silent for a long moment before, "We give him Providence and we go to Genosha to have a chat with the Imperator."

Deadpool gleeclaps. "Oooh yay! Rhode Island had a WAY crappier Providence. Well, now, I mean, now that it's, y'know, a pool of radiation." He turns around and bellows, entirely un-necessarily, "HAI GUYS WE'RE GONNA GO TO PROVIDENCE!"

He is met with blank stares.

"THE ISLAND, NOT THE BLASTED HEATH THAT WAS IN RHODE ISLAND!"

The mutants surge to their feet and start grabbing their gear. Deadpool twirls towards Cable. "Yay for WadeLand!" he says, throwing his hands into the air.

"Oh, you're gonna drop in on the Imperator?" he asks, squinting at Cable. "You... you sure that's wise? He, uh. Kind of, y'know. The last guy." He makes a little gesture, knocking his fists together, then makes a splodey noise.

"If you can make it past the Prudence Barrier, that's great, but man, he is /pissy/," Deadpool asides to Cable. "I mean, no one goes on Genosha anymore. /No one/. Bad juju, broheim. He killed /me/ last time I went, and I showed up with /two/ banana cream pies. They're calling him the Bone King, now," he says. Deadpool actually sounds a little... scared. "Y'know. King of a dead nation, and all. I'm pretty sure if it weren't for the Purity guys, he'd... well, I mean, he kind of went cuckoo for cocoa puffs after they hit Hammer Bay."

"Man, I miss cocoa puffs. Thanks, outdated pop culture reference!"

(I've heard that name before... Providence. Isn't that--)

With Nate's sudden outburst at the loss of the place in question Domino makes the connection.

(Oh yeah. Nate's mutant utopia project.)

"I don't understand, why is it so important what Deadpool does here right now? If we go back and fix things then anything he does now is wasted effort, isn't it?" Or is it possible to change just a certain piece of the timeline without having it completely rewrite everything else along with it?

Thank goodness this isn't her area of expertise. She might have to shoot herself if it was.

Once again that ghostly look of concern returns. "That doesn't sound like a very good idea, Nate." If it has any bearing on this future once they've done what they need to do in the past, her present, that is.

When Wade himself starts asking if this is a wise course of action Dom's concerns are really given some proper backing. The -crazy- guy thinks it's a bad idea, this means something! Talking about Magneto, though? She draws a long breath in through her nose then lets it all out.

(Oh sure, -now- the odds are coming to me.)

"I can do it," she flatly offers. Silence follows from her end as she glances between the two before explaining a bit further. "Talking to Magneto. I've worked alongside him before. He'd recognize me. If we need an in, I'll take point."

As if that isn't enough she glances back to Wade and remarks "I always pictured you as more of a Froot Loops sorta guy."

"The island, yes," and even now Cable sounds as if he's regretting it. "It's off the power grid, so don't you dare touch a thing there." Lifting his bionic arm, the forearm begins to morph into something resembling a controller.. and it's a quick set of inputs with a moment of, "Wade, come here," and pointing to his arm, he continues, "Look here." Nothing like a retinal scan! Of course, Dom's comment regarding Froot Loops does give Nate that push as to a passkey for the man.

"I'm not talking about the Magneto here. Last thing I want to do is to talk to a nutcase Omega." That could turn his body essentially inside out. "I mean our Magneto. Back home." 'Home' being a relative term, of course.

"Wade, start your bugging out. Pull everything you have, and find a teep that'll scan. I don't like the idea that you were hit hard twice. And I don't mean scan brains, I mean, scan for real mutants. Sometimes drugs bring things out, and it's just temporary."

"Roger wilco," Deadpool says, giving Cable his best boy scout salute. "And I'm glad you aren't going to see Magneto. Our Magneto, I mean. He really is nuts. The Pru-barrier dropped last month for five minutes. He took the power offline."

"...Everywhere. Whole planet. I mean, I'm almost glad the Purity guys have him chained down. I have a feeling he'd do very bad things if they didn't."

In less than ten minutes, Deadpool's got the team together, each one with a hand on the one on the end of the chain, forming a mutant circle. "We're using some of the stolen Genosha tech and doing bioscans now. Had a few false positives, but it's working if we get a marrow sample. The Simulex Agent doesn't sit in the bones right."

"So, y'know, later, Domino. Or, whatever. Man, I'm getting a bit misty eyed, knowing I'm never gonna see that ass again. ...again." He shakes his head. "Time travel grammar is haaaaard," he whines at Cable.

Deadpool stands at the end of the chain, holding his teleporter. "Also, you guys both /suck/. Neither of you asked about my eyepatch." He rips it off and throws it on the floor in disgust.

"It was supposed to make me look more roguish!"

BBBZZZZRT.

And the room is suddenly full only of dead monitors, Cable, and Domino.

"Yeah, if I'm going to stand on Magneto's front door I'd like to think that there's a chance of something useful coming out of it," Domino seconds. What good would it do to talk to the future one? It's the one from where she comes from that needs to live and succeed! "Besides, back home he's still attempting to be all political. He'll listen, even if he's already decided that we should get torn apart just for showing up to his party."

Hopefully.

Aaand Deadpool's on her case again. "Funny, my ass isn't going to miss you at all."

A comment about an eyepatch later and they're gone. She blinks once in silence then slowly rolls her shoulders. "Guy's got an insane healing factor. We all knew he didn't need the patch."

(At least it's quiet now.)

"I know I'm gonna regret this, but let's jump on back."

"At least the one that we have to talk to might be open to reason. Either that, or it's going to be a very painful discussion," Cable smiles a little wanly. Of course, he doesn't mention who will suffer the pain, but it's more than likely both of them at one point. If he can get his hits in, that is.

"And you're right. He's trying." Sort of. But Nate is still willing to give him the benefit of being reasonably lucid.

"Wade-- enough with--" and the man is gone.

"Okay, I don't need to see him for at least another couple of years." Small doses. "And honestly, I think the eyepatch was a pretty good touch. But I wasn't going to tell HIM that." Think of what he'd have to put up with!

Though now, it's time to return, and Nate offers a nod to the suggestion. "My thought exactly." Reaching out now, Cable's ready to go; they're ready to go.

"Timeslide 60, Ship."