Shooting Star | |||||
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What: Deadpool has a lovely housewarming party for his new digs. |
Deadpool's got a chummy little fire going in the middle of the newly christened DeadQuarters! Technically it's not called that- the city says it's Condemned Structure #12-89, and the /government/ says it's Federal Property- Hazardous Material Contained Within. Some joker put up 'DANGER: EXPLOSIVES' right under a crude spray tag that says 'Matt's Mother Does Cincinatti'.
But anyway, fire! Deadpool's dragged a pony keg and a lawn chair and an umbrella to the spot that's at the mostly gravitational center of the warehouse. It's far enough away from the trailers and modified cargovans that it doesn't bother anyone unless Pool starts singing Irish lullabies and then shooting at things. It looks like he's doing some kind of weird s'more, but with sausage instead of chocolate. And it looks like it might be a rat impaled on a stick. The marshmallows are totally normal though.
Kwabena had gotten his motorcycle back from the NYPD impound, but it wasn't exactly the conventional way of reclaiming property. He didn't exactly go to the impound lot during business hours, and usually one does not climb over the barbed wire fence, claim the property, then blow one's way out of the locked gate by way of a double barreled shotgun purchased at a pawn shop in East Brooklyn.
Such is life for a rogue mutant who still lives pretty well under the radar.
This is precisely why he did /not/ go back to the studio apartment he'd rented in Brooklyn. Instead, he went to the only place that seemed to make sense; the address on the business card given to him by Deadpool. As the bike rolls up toward the gate, he removes the helmet and tucks it under one arm, staring at the graffiti and random postings with a half-cocked smirk on his face.
Lunair adores Deadpool. No one's sure why. A lot of things she does don't seem to have an obvious answer. It's as if she unwittingly perfected the art of zen explosives. Either way, she has brought something with her. Some BBQ and... a bean bag. She's dragging a bean bag. Things went from sweet and normal to vaguely surreal. What kind of person gives someone brisket and a bean bag? Seriously. What the heck. She has real estate pamphlets shoved into her pocket. Lunair struggles towards normalcy, but normalcy slips away much like a greased ferret and leaves Lunair in the dust. Actually, she does spot Kwabena first and smiles faintly. She will however, let him enter first. Just in case someone inside gets startled and starts shooting.
Somewhere in the distance is a soft sound, sort of a 'foom' that is obscured somewhat by the ambient noise given off by any city. Not long after this, there is a beautiful golden shooting star in the sky. Or, possibly, a meteorite, because it is not fading out at all. In fact, it seems to be getting closer. It arcs down, smashes a hole right through the top of a condemned building, then lands in a rubbish-filled lot not far away. A splash of debris is sent up from the impact crater, and the ground trembles slightly, although it is little more than a 2.2 on the Richter scale. There is a thap-thap-thap of junk lightly raining down and then a dog starts barking. Just as the dust settles, a figure climbs up out of the small crater, looking slightly dazed but unscuffed. "Aw, nuts," says Booster Gold, looking around as he tries to pinpoint just where he landed, this time.
"I think I heard a 'foom'," Deadpool announces to no one in particular. "Followed by a 'thump' and possibly a 'sqlortch'." He carefully rotates his rat-on-a-spit, ignoring the trick-sized doors that are opened and closed by the intimidatingly large and /very/ cheap guard that stands there specifically to scare away bums panhandling and to open and close said large door for people like Lunair, who Deadpool has assured the guard he /will shoot you for if you don't let her in/, and Kwabena, because anyone who rides a motorcycle is inherently sexy and awesome.
/Stolen/ motorcycle. One that was originally legally purchased (with cash from selling a drug lord's heroin in Grennwich Village), but still, legally purchased, and now stolen from NYPD lockup.
It's probably best if the motorcycle remains behind closed doors.
Kwabena eyes the seemingly meteorite as it falls nearby, some of the debris landing in the street not far from him. He reaches back to scratch at the back of his head, then begins to murmur quietly to himself. "Why do I get myself into these-"
Then, he spots Luna, and nearly leaps out of his skin. Startled, he stares at her for a moment, unable to help thinking, /Is she FOLLOWING me!?/ Stubbornly he spins back around, revs his bike, and rolls into the compound a bit faster than he probably should have. Some gravel and dirt gets kicked up behind him as he curls around and comes to a stop near the central warehouse, where he props the bike up on its kickstand and pockets the keys. "Nice place you have here," he calls out to Deadpool.
It's a good thing Lunair doesn't have ribbons in her hair or a lacey dress, or the dude might wet his pants. The meteorite(?) makes Lunair blink. Her mouth falls open a little. "Um. Wow. I wonder if that's good luck, bad luck or I'm so about to get set on fire..." This is a dilemma to contemplate. Frankly, Lunair figures if it comes to it, most things come undone with appropriate application of poison and/or explosive. And then there's Kawbena. She smiles, hearing the bike rev - and there he goes. She looks faintly concerned, but heads in towards the central warehouse herself, thus validating his fears and becoming a prominent figure in his nightmares. SWEET DREAMS. Either way, she's following in.
"Skeets?" Booster calls out plaintively, hands cupped around his mouth.
"Shut up!" suggests an angry male voice in the distance.
In a quieter voice, Booster puts his hand over his ear and tries again. "Skeets? Where are you?" After a pause, he says, "What do you mean, you're still in Tierra del Fuego? No, I don't know where I am, you -know- what happens when I try to find anything with MapQuest!" He floats up into the air, turning a bit and looking around. He must detect something near or in that warehouse, because he flies towards the DeadQuarters. "Hey, hello!" he shouts, and then adds to whomever he is speaking to on his communicator, "No, I was--what, Tuatara took him down? Crap!"
Without looking, Deadpool produces a ridiculously oversized automatic pistol out of nowhere and puts a 10mm round right between Kwabena's eyes. He turns and looks down the sights, then brightens. At least, his mask brightens. Look, it's complicated. "Hey, Smokey! I thought that was you. Where's Bandit?" He howls at his own joke and pounds his knee with the gun a few times. A round goes off and buries itself in the wall, probably landing somewhere in the river. Hopefully. "Whoops. Safety first!" He puts the safety on, then casually throws the loaded gun onto the cooler next to him. "So what's up, honky tonk? You hanging out here with us? Going to throw your lot in with the downtrodden refuse of mercenary society?" He holds up his rat s'more, which is now on fire. "We got rat s'mooooores," he croons, waving it enticingly back and forth at Kwabena.
Outside, as Booster Gold approaches in the air, a low klaxon starts to sound. Panels in the walls open up. Sheds collapse. The sound of motorized machinery clicks and whirls as an entire defensive firing system arms itself.
A guy gets on top of the building with a megaphone. "Warnin-" He stops and hits a switch. <WARNING>, he says again, his voice now robotic. <UNAUTHORIZED AIRSPACE APPROACH. LAND AND WALK IN, OR BE SHOT DOWN.>
Several of the turrets, on closer inspection, are just large PVC pipes spraypainted black and labelled 'Gunz'.
A large sign announces 'Warning. Automated turrets.' Another says 'A Future Project of Gunzerk Automated Turrets Inc.' <PLEASE DISREGARD THE SECOND SIGN.>
When the bullet strikes Kwabena's forehead, the /oddest/ of things happens, at least for those who haven't seen it. His entire head just bursts into black smoke, and the bullet whizzes right through. A second or two later, the smoke curls back together into the man's head again, only he's left blinking his eyes for a moment, as if disoriented. "God damnit," he curses, which sounds altogether humorous with his thick, Ghanaian accent.
After hopping off the bike, Kwabena strolls into the warehouse proper, doing his best to hide a scowl from his face. "The bandit is right there," he offers, and jerks a thumb toward Luna. "Let's just say I needed a few days away from New York." His scowl morphs into a bit of a smirk, which sticks in spite of the 'food' Deadpool offers up. "That's alright, I just ate, like four hours ago."
A klaxon. Lunair's left eye twitches a little. She's clearly not a fan of that noise. Either way, she shifts the beanbag over to hide that side of her face. And the whole bullets at Kwa? Take cover! Pause. "Um." Right. But she does enter after a bit, gifts and all. There's a pause as Kwabena jerks his thumb towards her. "..." What's this about a bandit? She eyes Kwabena warily. She takes a deep breath. "I have barbeque from a restaurant if you're not um, a s'mores person, I guess..." She offers, peering at the waving rat. Words fail her. She looks over her shoulder, still uncertain of that whole klaxon thing. She is her quiet, usual self. "Also, a beanbag. But please don't eat that."
"Whoah." Booster lifts his hands as if to show his unarmed status, but since his weapons are built into his costume this is a fairly hollow gesture. The weaponry might look odd, but it could just be cunning 21st century technology. Anyway, he did hear some gunshots. "It's cool, I just needed directions!" He floats to the ground, and after landing he furrows his brow a little bit as if a thought has struck him. "Hey, is this a -lair-?" Leaning aside, he tries to peer inside. "Hi! Is this someone's lair? I'm not trying to like... bust anything up, or anything. I just wanted to know where I am."
<THIS IS NOT A LAIR. UNLESS YOU ARE A MERCENARY LOOKING FOR WORK. IN WHICH CASE, WELCOME TO DEADQUARTERS.> There's a pause. <IF YOU ARE NOT A MERCENARY, DISREGARD MY LAST STATEMENT.>
"Will SOMEONE tell Bill to stop faking the robot accent?" Deadpool yells skywards. He shakes his head, then waves at Kwabena and Lunair to come on over. "Sweet, baby ribs!" He yanks the bag from Lunair's hand, dropping his rat in the fire, and starts gnawing down without a 'thanks' or 'napkins?' or anything. Jerk. "In fact, I'll go do it myself. Here- you guys mind the fire just in case some dude walks in here looking for directions or something. Like that guy." He points at Booster's head peeking around the door, which the guard is completely not bothering to guard. "He looks like he needs directions. Or a hug. I'd let the chick do the hug. Unless he's into guys. Then it's all you, Smokey." Deadpool waves and walks off into his special little room. He leans out the door just long enough to put four rounds through the ceiling (and into Bill, who makes a squishy sound), then slams the door.
Strange noises come from inside the room. Gross, sweat sounds. Like the midnight movings of a Cincinatti man's mother. Best not to disturb the Merc.
With all of Deadpool's commotion, Kwabena just turns around and eyes the incoming stranger. Strangely... dressed... stranger. He squints his eyes for a moment, then mock gasps a little. "You know, I think this is my first /real/ superhero sight-"
Then, four shots ring out. Kwabena doesn't flinch, for gunshots stopped making him flinch a long time ago. He does, however, look up and notice Bill hunching over into the megaphone, which rings out with momentary feedback before falling to the ground, clattering. Shaking his head, Kwabena smirks slightly and mutters, "Humans."
Remembering the strangely dressed stranger, Kwabena turns back around and watches for a moment. "You're in Metropolis!" he calls out. "Better come in or leave, before he shoots you too!"
"..." Lunair looks a little lost. She does giggle a little at all of this and smiles faintly. She doesn't seem ruffled as Deadpool yanks the bag from her hand. "Sure..." She nods. Then she looks over her shoulder, to see just who Deadpool is pointing at. Her eyes widen at the horrible noises, Bill squishing and - she's going to get used to this at some point or quietly go insane trying. "Um." Well. She does seem fond of Deadpool. Just ... maybe getting used to the routine. Twitch. "Um. I'm not sure he wants a hug..." She rubs the back of her head. She's trying not to bolt for cover and it shows. A little inch over... Okay, maybe she'll get CLOSER to cover. "... see, that's why I avoid getting shot." Sigh. But still, Booster gets a sympathetic glance. "I'm terrible at greetings, but you can come in. I won't shoot. And I'm pretty sure he won't." Hmm. His clothes - wait. She just catches what Kwa said. "Oh... really?" Ohmy. She looks backover. "I think we can help maybe..." She's not sure.
"Wh..." Booster is now trying to figure out if he is actually a mercenary; 21st century English is not his first language, and he knows the word 'mercenary' is someone who gets paid; he likes getting paid. However, he has an inkling that this is not exactly what he is going for. The shooting forestalls a real answer, though. "He shot that guy!" he reports, pointing upwards, so his hero name might be Captain Obvious. "I... no, I'm bullet-proof, it's okay." Booster still has his arm up in the air, pointing towards poor Bill. "I'm in -Metropolis-? Son of a..." He turns away slightly and puts his hand over his ear. "Skeets, I landed in Metropolis. ... Yes! ... No, I don't think it's very funny or ironic. No, I'm not going to fly all the way back to Tierra del Fuego to get you. ... Well, FedEx yourself back here, then, it's faster. He turns back to the others with a slight, apologetic smile. "Heh, I'm sorry I interrupted your ... party... thing. I'm Booster Gold, and I..." He glances up, again, his goggles glowing faintly. "I think I'm kind of obligated to take that guy to the hospital."
"You too, huh?" answers Kwabena, specifically when Booster mentions being bullet proof. "Let me take one wild guess - they bounce off you. See, they go /through/ me!" Oh, he's finding humor in this, to be sure. He glances over toward Luna, noticing the way she seems to be inching away, looking for cover. "I think he's harmless," he whispers her way, before looking back at Booster.
The gold hero does have a point.
Kwabena turns back toward Bill, and frowns. "Kind of or not, I'm not getting in the way. I do not want to make him angry." He jerks a thumb toward Deadpool's, ahem, 'lair' of sorts. "He may find something to use that /won't/ go right through me. I hope you understand what I mean."
Lunair furrows her brows. "Um. It's okay. It didn't seem like you could help it." She pouts. "Aaah, I'm the only one here NOT bulletproof? That hardly seems fair." Poor Lunair. The universe took a big lemon and just nailed her upside the head with it there. She looks thoughtful. Actually, that stiff oddness never seems to go away. At the whisper, she blushes. "S-sorry... I tend to dive for cover at loud noises. I'm not sure why that is." Hmm. She looks towards Bill. "I think we can get Bill out while he's busy. Less for him to clean up and Bill gets to go to the hospital." And despite the odd tic and inching towards cover, she manages another peaceful smile. "Here, I'll carry him over. Do you know where the hospitals are here...?" A peer over to the Gold fellow. There's a long pause. She's not responding in the proper order. "I also... apologize. You may call me Lunair. Pleased to meet you." Normalcy evades her ever still. But there's an /attempt/ and a faint smile towards Kwabena, too. "I can imagine worse things than being shot," Is all she offers and meanders over to go pick poor Bill up. If she -can- anyway, without disturbing the Deadpool. He did seem pretty happy for the BBQ.
"Oh, you're powered beings!" Booster Gold smiles brightly at this, clearly delighted with this news, pointing dual finger-gun gestures at Lunair and Kwabena. "That is -awesome-. I'm trying to do the, you know, the superhero thing. It's going okay. Mostly. I mean..." He waves one hand in a vague manner. "Mostly." Apparently he does not want to explain why or how he made that impact crater just down the street. "Look, if it's going to cause problems for you guys, I'm -totally- okay with taking this dude to the hospital myself. I can fly him over." The blond man glances up as if he were focusing on something invisible in the middle distance, then says, "Metropolis City Hospital is east of here, across Centennial Park."
Remembering his manners, Kwabena looks back at Booster and smiles. "I am Kwabena, Kwabena Odame." And then, they are all offering to help poor Bill. He sighs, reluctantly, but won't be the one left behind. "Well, come on then, let's get him down." As he makes way for the building where Bill is hunched and, well, gurgling, Kwabena looks back over his shoulder and slows. "Wait, wait, wait a minute. If you're going to fly him to the hospital, are you also going to land like you just did?" He shakes his head. "That won't work, man, that will kill him for good!"
Hmm. Lunair looks over her shoulder and smiles faintly. "It's okay. He's not that heavy..." She's not frail, despite the whole lack of bullet proofness thing. At the powered beings comment, she looks -uneasy- would be putting it politely. "Yeah... I don't know about it sometimes." But it is what it is. She seems somewhere between trained to think nothing of it and resigned. "... but I've made a friend or two, so I guess it's alright." Troubled. Definitely not a happy set of powers. Nevertheless, she shakes it off. Deep breath, "I'm glad to hear it's working out mostly." Smile. That distant stare again. "I'm... sure it happens is all." Then a nod. She looks concerned to Kwabena as she starts to help lift and make sure Bill is safe to move. "... wouldn't landing like that all the time be bad for Mr. Gold too...?" She isn't sure what to think. But it's hard to pin her or her thought processes down. Like shifting sands, ever strange.
"Oh, you saw that, huh?" Booster grimaces faintly. "No, I don't usually land that way. I wasn't flying under my own power, that... uh, I was fighting this dude called Planet Master. Down in Tierra del Fuego. He hit me so hard, I ended up here." He pauses for a beat, then adds, "I actually live in Metropolis, so he kind of saved me the trip, but... I mean, I didn't get to be there at the end of the fight." Booster looks disappointed about this, lifting and dropping his hands, before snapping his fingers and perking up instantaneously. "It's okay, though. Are you guys coming along? I think I can fly you with me. I've never tried it, but I'm pretty sure it'll work."
"Hey, he's bullet proof," notes Kwabena to Lunair. "And did you see that landing? I mean, I didn't see it up close, but 'wham'." He helps Bill down with Lunair's help. "Easy buddy, we're going to get you to a hospital."
Bill gurgles.
"You know, I think I am going to stay here. It's been a long trip, and I'm sure I can find somewhere to catch some sleep." He looks between Lunair and Booster again, lips curling into a half-cocked grin. "But enjoy your trip to the hospital, okay?"
Once he's sure that Bill is secure, he turns and stalks off.
She tilts her head, looking concerned for Kwabena a moment. She squints a moment. "Okay... but don't hesitate to ask if you like, need a decent hotel room. Don't worry... I wouldn't be in it." That may have been to reassure him. Hard to tell with Lunair, sometimes. Either way, she'll help with Bill, falling silent. She nods at Booster, "It's okay. I can stay here so I don't scare anyone." There's a sad, stiff smile. "... I think I'm going to go ... read." Yes. The shift is like an unsteady reaction. Normally, she seems just fine with her existence, but now and then - a flicker of awareness. It too, passes and she sincerely, will read once Bill is off on his way, fear falling away like leaves dying from a withered vine and slipping away from its wall.
"No problem, I'll make sure he gets help!" Booster scoops up Bill as carefully as he can manage, and floats up into the air. "Oh, and it was cool meeting you guys. If your... boss or whatever he is gives you trouble about this, tell him it was my fault." He smiles brilliantly again and manages to give a thumbs-up gesture while still holding the bleeding guard, and then he flies off into the night, a golden shooting star once again that manages -not- to crash to earth this time around.