16552/Red in the Ledger

Red in the Ledger
Date of Scene:	28 September 2024
Location:	The Continental Gotham, East Park Side
Synopsis:	Find out if the worst of messes become successes.
Cast of Characters:	Deadpool, Black Widow (Romanoff)

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Deadpool has posed:
Deadpool strolled into The Continental Gotham with an exaggerated flair, the red and black of his mask stark against the gray stone facade. His tuxedo fit like a glove, well, like a glove over a super suit, complete with a bow tie that looked almost dapper. He tilted his head at the doorman, who remained stoically silent, and replied with a wink, "I know, I know. I look better than you. It's tough being this fabulous!"

Inside, the hotel buzzed with an understated elegance. Patrons in tailored suits and sleek dresses whispered conspiratorially, sipping on dark liquors. Deadpool sauntered toward the bar, where a sleek bartender polished glasses with the precision of a surgeon. "Hey there, mixologist extraordinaire! What's the secret ingredient in your death-defying martini?" he asked, leaning on the counter with a grin.

The bartender raised an eyebrow, not missing a beat. "It's called 'not getting shot while you drink.' A popular choice around here." Her tone was flat, but Deadpool could sense the faintest hint of amusement in her eyes. "And you're going to want to check your weapons first, if you haven't already."

"Check my weapons? Please! I'd never disarm myself in front of such a handsome face." Deadpool flashed a wink of his emotive mask, tapping his own temple. "I'm all about keeping things safe and sound. Besides, I wouldn't want to ruin my tux, though I hear it's hard to get blood out of Barathea wool." He gestured to his getup, letting the tuxedo jacket flow as he swayed like a model on a runway.

The bartender snorted, pouring a drink with practiced ease. "I'm sure you have a lot of experience with stains." She slid the drink over, a vivid green concoction that sparkled under the dim lights. "Here's your 'safety drink.' Just don't break any rules while you enjoy it. Last guy who tried got a one-way ticket to the afterlife."

Deadpool raised the glass and clinked it against the bar. "Cheers to living dangerously! But I promise, I'll keep the chaos outside. For now." He took a sip, savoring the flavor. "Now, where's the nearest hitman I can charm?"

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
There were very strict rules on Continental grounds. While most everyone was armed, since none of them ever checked their weapons despite the manager of this particular locale asking them to do so voluntarily, there was no violence tolerated. To do so was to ask to be excommunicado. And that was indeed a death sentence. The level of violence didn't really matter. To attack another on Continental grounds was enough on its own.

There were a few people in the lounge at that time. A couple of pairs here or there, a solitary person at a few different tables. All were actually dressed impeccably in semi to formal attire. A booth in the back was home to a brunette who took particular interest in the figure at the bar. She watched him openly as he chatted with the bartender. When he saked about a hitman he could charm, she went back to focusing on her bourbon neat.

Though, if one paid close enough attention, they might recognize the woman. Her face had been in the press enough but a lot of people never picked up on little things like that. Natasha was here on an information finding job and, considering her skillset and reputation, she was known among by a few in these circles who had been around when she wasn't on the side of the angels. Yet, she was welcome like any other, as long as she didn't start any violence on their grounds and kept their secrets to herself. Course, SHIELD already knew their secrets and honestly didn't care as long as it didn't bubble over into areas it shouldn't.

Thus her mission here to get information, to be certain that the whispers they were hearing were false.

Deadpool has posed:
Deadpool leaned against the bar, the cool glass of his drink clutched in one hand, while he absently hummed the theme from the Pink Panther. The tune fit his mood perfectly, sneaky, playful, and a bit mischievous. He pulled his mask up just enough to sip his drink, exposing his scarred skin. "Ah, the sweet taste of danger and questionable hygiene," he muttered, savoring the vibrant green concoction. His eyes roamed the room, scanning for potential fun... or trouble.

As he surveyed the lounge, a sharply dressed man entered, glancing around with a cautious air. Deadpool raised an eyebrow through his mask, noting the subtle shift in the guy's posture when he was spotted. The man's expression shifted from curiosity to panic as he turned on his heel and slipped out, clearly trying to avoid drawing attention. "Oh, come on, buddy! I'm not that scary!" Deadpool called after him, chuckling. "I mean, look at me! I'm fabulous!"

Then he noticed a familiar face across the room. His grin widened, and he raised his gloved hand in a wave, though at this distance it could've been directed at anyone. "Hey, Red! Over here! You know you wanna join the party!" He winked through his mask, knowing she'd probably roll her eyes, but appreciating her presence nonetheless. He took another sip, eyeing the bourbon she was nursing, wondering if she could hope to match his level of chaos... or at least tolerate it.

"Y'know," he continued to himself, leaning closer to the bar, "I didn't come here just to sip martinis and admire my own reflection. I'm on a mission! A hitman to charm, or a hitwoman to annoy, what's the difference?" He glanced around, spotting a few shady characters in the corners. "Maybe I'll just flirt with trouble instead! It's all in a day's work for your friendly neighborhood merc." With a wink and another sip, he was ready for whatever absurdity the night had in store.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Red. When she was wearing a black wig. But Deadpool wasn't known for the art of nuance or subtelty. Natasha resisted the urge to roll her eyes, an urge that was indeed present. Then she rose to her feet and moved his direction. She was dressed in a lovely cocktail dress, black because it was sort of a signature color for her after all. Not too short but above the knee, form fitting, sleeveless with narrow straps at the shoulders holding it in place. Absolutely no place to hide weapons in that fit. Which if course meant she was armed to the teeth, it just wasn't visible to anyone. No, there wasn't a shotgun or an uzi in there but it didn't mean she had no weapons whatsoever.

She settled into a barstool next to Deadpool, having brought her glass with her. She motioned to it for a refill from the bartender then turned her full attention to Wade.

"What sort of mission are you actually on? Or just bored and decided this was the place for your form of mania tonight?"

Deadpool has posed:
As Natasha approached, Deadpool's mind flicked to the chorus of 'Back in Black' by AC/DC . o O ( Back in black, I hit the sack? ) He couldn't help but smile at the irony; she looked ready for a night out, but he knew better. He began counting concealed weapons in his head, convinced he'd hit thirteen by the time she reached him. "Bourbon? Pistol? Grappling hook? Definitely a few throwing stars in there somewhere," he mused quietly, admiring her elegant appearance while knowing she could kick his ass without breaking a sweat.

When she settled into the barstool next to him, he turned to face her, finally giving her his full attention. "What sort of mission am I on?" he repeated, feigning a look of deep thought. "Oh, you know, the usual. A mission from Gawd," he declared dramatically, throwing his arms wide as if delivering a grand speech. "But let's be honest - I'd switch sides at the drop of a hat; especially if that hat was on a lovely head like yours."

He raised his glass in a mock toast, the playful glint in his masked eyes undeniable. "But really, I'm just here to stir up some chaos, charm a hitperson or two, and probably get thrown out on my ass. You know, typical night that ends in 'Y'." He took a long sip, enjoying the drink while gauging her reaction. "What about you, Nat... alie? Gathering Intel, or just looking to keep me in line? I promise I can be quite charming, even when I'm plotting mayhem."

Deadpool leaned in closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Honestly, I could use a partner in crime, someone to help me navigate this den of formalities. You know, keep me from embarrassing myself too much while I'm here." He shot her a wink with that incredibly emotive mask, his grin widening. "And believe me, I'm very good at that kind of thing. Just ask the last person who tried to mix business with pleasure."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"You don't look like Jake nor Elwood."

She was old enough to get that reference. After all, she'd been alive and seen the movie in the theaters at the time. Thinking back to that time, she was pretending to be a grad student and working on getting access to the secret work of one of the professors at the school. It had been a cakewalk but did require about a month in the role. And that required her to keep up appearances thus parties and going to movies with friends.

"Just catching up with some acquaintances I haven't seen in a few years." Truth yet not giving away the full details of that intel gathering which was happening. At his mention of needing help, she paused before answering as the barkeep topped off her bourbon. Once they were out of earshot again, she spoke.

"The main formality you need to worry about is no violence on Continental grounds. If you feel the need to even punch someone in the face, ask them outside to do so. Otherwise, they will be testing that healing factor of yours to the nth degree." She sipped the bourbon, looking to him again with those blue contacts. "Is the last person able to even answer questions, I have to ask."

Deadpool has posed:
Deadpool chuckled, leaning back on his barstool. "You're right, I'm definitely more 'merc with a mouth' than 'Blues Brothers.' But hey, who needs a fedora when you can rock a mask like this?" He gestured to his face with a flourish, reveling in the ridiculousness of it all. "And you, looking all classy in that dress... like a walking Rita Hayworth movie come to life."

He watched her as the bartender refilled her bourbon, his interest piqued by her casual mention of catching up with acquaintances. "Sounds thrilling... I assume these 'acquaintances' have some juicy info? You know, like who's been naughty or nice in Gotham? Wait, are you after Santa Clause, because I've heard he has an extensive list." He smirked, trying to keep the mood light. When she warned him about the no-violence rule, he feigned shock. "What? No punching? You mean to tell me I can't go full-on superhero here? What a bummer! I was all set for some slapstick mayhem!"

Wade leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a playful whisper. "But really, I'll keep my fists to myself. Can't risk losing my healing factor on a silly little scuffle. Plus, I hear the last guy who tried to mix it up in here was scattered on the Hudson." He raised his glass to toast her again. "And speaking of questions, if the last guy can't answer them, I'll just have to charm the info out of someone else, right? Maybe even you, if you feel like spilling some secrets. First time for everything, right?"

With a grin, he leaned back, his eyes glinting with mischief. "So, what's it gonna be, Natalie? Join forces for a night of lighthearted espionage, or are you too busy playing the role of the sophisticated lady?" He couldn't help but add, "Because, honestly, you're making it hard for a guy like me to resist the urge to team up."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"Playing at being a lady? Are you saying I'm not one?" There was a hint of steel in her tone as she asked that question. Yet, she was actually teasing. Only, with Natasha, it was really hard to ever tell that fact. Unless someone knew her very well or she wanted them to know. She tended to play like she was serious though, as it amused her more to see the reactions.

Of course, this was Wade. He wasn't really someone who would have a normal reaction to anything. She wasn't sure if it was the cancer that racked his body, only to be kept alive anyway thanks to his healing factor, or if it was perhaps too many brain injuries and they couldn't all heal perfectly. He was in a world of his own most of the time.

"I don't have any secrets to spill." No lightning strike despite the audacity of that lie. "I'm just here saying hi to old friends. And getting a little information. Though, speaking of which, you do fall in that category so perhaps you can help me out here. You are still in the mercenary business or keeping it more on the hero side these days? Do you hear about potential jobs?"

Deadpool has posed:
Deadpool's grin widened at her teasing tone, though he caught the hint of steel in her words. "Oh, come on. You're as much of a lady as they come... just a lady who can snap a neck without breaking a nail." He leaned back, feigning mock seriousness. "I mean, I'd say you're the gold standard of femininity, complete with killer instincts!"

When she claimed she had no secrets, he couldn't help but look around the bar theatrically, as if expecting a lightning bolt to strike. "No secrets? In a place like this? I'm shocked! What's next? You'll tell me you don't have an underground lair filled with high-tech gadgets and minions?" He scratched his head, putting on a look of exaggerated confusion. "Seriously, I'm whatever you need, whenever you need it. Just say the word. Need backup? A distraction? I'm your guy!" And unspoken, he thought . o O ( Even when you have another one. )

Wade shifted gears, leaning in closer again, curiosity sparking in his eye lenses. "So, if you're gathering info, what kind of jobs are we talking about? Because I've got a whole smorgasbord of options. You want a classic caper, like stealing an unhappy couple's cat? Or maybe something darker, like retrieving a stolen artifact from a well-armed villain's lair, complete with '80s style shootout? The choices are practically endless!"

He took another sip of his drink, genuinely intrigued by her interest in potential jobs. "You know I'm always in the market for some fun... er, I mean work. So if you're looking to pick my brain about what's out there, I'm all ears. Or whatever it is that's left of my sanity. Trust me, I've got the inside scoop!" He winked, enjoying the banter and the chance to reconnect.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"There is someone wanting to steal a person's cat? What is wrong with people?!"

Then Natasha realizes he went a little off tangent there and quickly tried to put the train back on the right tracks. Even while thinking of the cat that was totally not her cat that she fed.

"There are rumors about a job involving a businessman, Rudolph Vasceni, who supposedly has been working with the CIA on a case. Allegedly, he has been singing pretty loudly and the people he's sharing info on don't appreciate it. I haven't been able to find out, thus far, if there is an actual hit or if it's just a rumor started to try to scare him into silence. Would you look into it for me with your contacts at the Hellhouse? I try to avoid going in there as T-Ray keeps trying to start a fight with me and I really don't want to have to hurt him."

Deadpool has posed:
Deadpool raised an eyebrow, feigning disbelief. "Oh, that's just Warren and Grace Adler. They're going through a nasty divorce, total War of the Roses kind of thing, but he has their cat, Howard, and she's putting up a lot of money for anyone that can get him back." But then he caught himself, realizing he'd gone off on a tangent again. "Anyway, back on track."

When she mentioned Rudolph Vasceni, his interest piqued. "Sounds like a real winner." He leaned in closer, soaking up the details. "And if he's singing too loudly, you can bet someone's put a target on his back. I can definitely poke around... for you. Trust me..." He chuckled at the thought of their past run-ins. "Besides, I know a thing or two about messy situations... Maybe I should suggest the Adler's split custody of their cat instead."

"Rudy Vasceni, Hellhouse, got it," he said suddenly, already starting to rise from his seat with a flourish. "You asked for help, and I'm on it. Just keep your phone on, and I'll send you any info I can dig up." He gave her a confident bow. "Just try to keep out of trouble while I'm gone. I'd hate to have to rescue you from one of your old 'acquaintances'." With that, he was off, ready to dive headfirst into whatever chaos awaited him.