Owner	Pose
Deadpool	Deadpool strode into the Fifty-Fifty Club like he was late for a very important date with a cheese plate. The neon lights flickered overhead, casting an eerie purple-and-pink glow that made everything look like it had been dipped in a bad high school art project. He scanned the room, noting the mismatched tables, broken-down booths, and the spectacle of twin stripper poles that seemed to be begging for attention. With a dramatic sweep of his arms, he announced to no one in particular, "Ah, just what I needed, an oasis of questionable decisions and regrettable life choices!" He wove through the cheap, square tables with the grace of someone who had just discovered that dancing on them was not a good idea. His red-and-black costume clashed spectacularly with the decor, making him look like a walking comic book ad in the midst of a horror movie. The DJ booth was tucked away in a corner like a forgotten relic from the '90s, pumping out beats that seemed to have a personal vendetta against musical harmony. Deadpool grinned and waved at the DJ. "Hey, buddy! I'm here to add some real rhythm to this place. Or at least confuse your baselines a little!" As he approached the bar, he gave the bartender, a skinny guy with eyes that suggested he was plotting world domination in between mixing drinks, a hearty slap on the back. "Hey, tall drink of water! I need something strong enough to make me forget I came here voluntarily." The bartender, looking more terrified than anything, nodded and started to mix a cocktail. Deadpool leaned on the bar, peering into the mirror behind it as if he was trying to see through to another dimension. "You know, they say you can tell a lot about a place by its mirror. And from the looks of it, this one's seen more drama than a soap opera marathon."
Skye Johnson	Skye was surprised at the call. Well, the text. For a long time now, Wade wasn't anywhere about. And, frankly, as much as she liked Wade, her life was quieter without him in it. Then again? It was too quiet of late. Maybe she could use a little more excitement in her life. Maybe. Of course, when she opened the doors, she was accosted with the noise, and.. good lord.. was that a stripper pole? What day was it?? Damn you, Wade! He chose this venue, and she had a sneaky suspicion that it was of purpose. Looking around, she wondered where she could find Wade.. Finally. At the bar. Striding over there, with a grimace on her face, she wondered, "Tell me you're not in trouble?" Wade and trouble were most frequently hand in hand. Not on purpose! But, still, hand in hand. Skye could hope, though.
Deadpool	Deadpool swiveled on his bar stool, almost toppling over as he turned to face Skye. His eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and faux innocence, clearly enjoying the dramatic entrance she had made. "Ah, Skye! Look who decided to join the party! I see you found my little slice of neon purgatory. Welcome to the Fifty-Fifty Club, where the drinks are as questionable as my life choices and the atmosphere is set to 'disaster chic.'" He waved a hand towards the ATM near the entrance with a flourish that seemed more theatrical than necessary. "You know, if you're gonna hang out here, you might want to hit up that cash dispenser by the door. It's not exactly the place where credit cards get all the love. We're talking singles, twenties, maybe even a few fifties if you're feeling wild. Just don't let the ATM see you without the green stuff, it gets cranky." Leaning in conspiratorially, he plucked a drink from the bar and nudged it toward her. "Now, grab yourself a drink, bartender's got a special on something called 'The Last Regret', and let loose a little. You might find it's not so bad to mix a little chaos with your quiet. Life's too short not to shake things up, right? Besides, you never know what kind of mischief we can get up to. I promise; it'll be just the right amount of trouble."
Skye Johnson	Worse. Wade was /making/ trouble. Oh.. god. "Look it.." Skye began. "I don't want a drink called The Last Regret. I have enough trouble on my plate as it is." Sorta? If you were counting Clint? Yes. She had enough trouble. The rest of her life was rather blase in comparison. "Besides, I've got work to do." Eventually. So she said a small fib. Fury wouldn't care if she took the weekend off. It wasn't like she goofed around on her work hours. And frankly, off work hours too. In short? Skye was your classical work-a-holic. She knew it. Her friends knew it. Her boss knew it. Sighing, she ordered a beer. "See? A drink. ONE drink. You have got until it's finished to talk with me."
Deadpool	Deadpool's face lit up with a grin that could only be described as the gleeful smirk of someone who'd just been told they could wreak havoc for an hour. He leaned back on his bar stool, placing his hands behind his head with a theatrical stretch. "Ah, the classic workaholic excuse! I knew you had a little rebel in you, Skye. And don't worry, I'm not about to drag you into anything too insane? yet." Somehow his masked eyes managed to sparkle with mischief, and did he just wink at her? Clearly, he was enjoying the challenge of making her smile despite her best efforts to be serious. As Skye ordered her beer, Deadpool's attention momentarily shifted to the bartender, who had a look of resigned familiarity. "You know, bartender," he called out, "you might want to start preparing for the inevitable storm of regret and chaos about to hit this place. And remember, when Skye here gets bored, she can be a real handful." He turned back to Skye, resting his chin on his gloved hand as if he were contemplating the mysteries of the universe. "So, tell me, what's the deal with this work you're so hell-bent on? World domination? Secret moon base? Or is it just that you have a very strict quota of hours you need to rack up?" He took a dramatic sip from his own drink, having to pull up his mask to do it. "In the meantime, how about we make a deal? I promise to be on my best behavior if you promise to stay for at least two more drinks. Think of it as a mini vacation from your workaholic routine. And if nothing else, you might get to see me attempt a few more ridiculous stunts that'll make your day? or at least give you a laugh. Deal?"
Skye Johnson	"Hey. A beer. Not that.. what have you. A beer." Sheesh! Telling the bartender should not have been so difficult. Skye turns to Wade. "You haven't changed." Was that a smile on her lips? ..And then it was gone. "You know me. I have always put work ahead of people." And more so now that the gang has split for various reasons around the globe. Though his mention of the moon base has her looking at him with a quizzical expression. "You don't know, do you?" As she mulls what bits she was wanting to spill, he counters three drinks, and he will be good. For some value of good. It was Wade after all. "I get to pick the drinks?"
Deadpool	"You're right. Some things never change. Like my ability to make even the most serious of people crack a smile; even if it's just a tiny one." He leaned in closer, eyes twinkling with exaggerated curiosity. "Oh, don't tell me, are you actually considering a secret moon base? Because if so, I've got some ideas for how to make it less 'mad scientist lair' and more 'luxury getaway.' Or maybe I'm just dreaming of my own moon base because, let's face it, Earth is way too full of stuff I'm not supposed to be involved in." He paused for a moment, his expression taking on a mock-serious tone. "But seriously, if there's something big going on that you're not telling me, don't worry. I've got a whole arsenal of distractions at my disposal." When she mentioned picking the drinks, Deadpool's eyes lit up with mischievous excitement. "Oh, absolutely! I'd be honored if you curated the evening's libations."
Skye Johnson	"Hey, you do .." And then Skye stopped. Wade never said no frou-frou beers. A stealthy smile crossed her lips. "Okay, you have got a deal." To make it all formal-like she holds out her hand. "Shake?" All the while giving him a good view of her bracers. Sitting more comfortably, taking a stool beside him. "I don't have plans with a moon base, but I have found out my people do.. did? do. Turns out I'm not 100 percent human. Who knew? Though my mother might have plans. I don't know. When did you deke out out here? I don't want to bore you with repeating stuff you know." Now? She takes a drink.
Deadpool	Deadpool's eyes widened comically at the sight of Skye's bracers as she extended her hand. "Oh, a handshake! I feel so official now." He grinned as he accepted the handshake with a flourish, twirling his wrist with exaggerated finesse. "You know, I might have to add 'formal handshake' to my list of favorite things. It's right up there with 'dramatic monologues' and 'impromptu dance parties.'" As Skye took a seat and began to explain her mysterious findings, Deadpool's face took on a mix of genuine interest and playful curiosity. "Not 100 percent human, huh? That's pretty wild. But hey, at least you're not part alien or something. I mean, if you were, we'd need to have a whole new conversation about intergalactic diplomacy." He leaned in closer, his expression shifting to mock seriousness. "And if your mom's got plans, well, that's a whole other level of family drama. I've seen enough soap operas to know that those are usually very convoluted. But hey, I'm here for it. Give me the gossip, spill the beans!" He paused, taking a sip of his own drink with a satisfied sigh. "As for me, well, you know me, I'm like a bad penny. I just keep turning up wherever there's trouble; or, in this case, a crummy nightclub with neon lights and a questionable reputation. You could say I'm here on a 'mission' of sorts, almost like a mission from God; though if you ask me, it's mostly about finding new ways to entertain myself. And now that you're here, it's like the universe finally decided to mix up the plot a bit. Cheers to that!" He raised his drink in a mock toast, eager to hear more about Skye's revelations and ready to add his own brand of chaos to the mix.
Skye Johnson	"Actually, I am. Alien. Inhuman." Skye shrugged. "Not that I care. Gee, actually I never thought of that before. I mean I grew up in orphanages, and ran away when I was too young. Mutants are human, right? I mean, the genome responsible can be found as a mutancy? Not mine. I mean, technically they are similar. ?Damn you, Wade. Youare hurting my head." Of course, she is laughing, so how serious is she? "Anyways. Long story short, Hydra was a bitch and forced the change on me. Yada, yada. I blew up an underwater lab during the transformation. Took several years to learn how to use my abilities. SHIELD uses my as a last resort, but sooner or later they will figure out how to counter me, and I'll be back to my regular old self." Bull. Fucking. Caca. To hear Skye say it, it's no big thing. "You know, Wade, I can never decide if I like you, or want to stay away." Again, that laugh. "You are okay, then? Haven't seen you for awhile." Skye hasn't seen most of the gang for awhile. Too long. To visit with Wade was actually nice. Not that she would admit to! Well, maybe a little bit. Un petit peu.
Deadpool	Deadpool's eyes widened with mock horror as Skye revealed her alien status. "Oh, so you're an alien! That explains the whole 'not quite human" vibe. I always thought you had that 'mysterious aura' about you, but I just figured it was the whole 'I'm way smarter than everyone else' thing." He leaned in closer, looking genuinely concerned but still with that trademark Deadpool charm. "Hydra, huh? Those guys are the worst. Nothing says 'good times' like an evil organization forcing mutations on people. Really makes you appreciate the simpler problems, like having to dodge exploding underwater labs." He took another dramatic sip of his drink, his tone shifting to something more sincere but still laced with his usual flair. "You know, Skye, hearing your story makes me appreciate how resilient you are. Seriously, blowing up a lab and learning to control new powers? That's some next-level superhero stuff. And yeah, sure, you might end up back to your old self someday, but if you ever need a break from the whole 'serious hero' gig, you can always count on me to provide some low-grade chaos and high-quality entertainment." Deadpool grinned widely, raising his glass in a heartfelt toast. "I'm glad to hang out with you, even if it's in this gloriously trashy club. And yeah, I'm doing alright. Got a few scrapes and bruises, but nothing that can't be fixed with a good dose of humor, and an outrageous amount of tacos. So here's to old friends, unexpected reunions, and a little bit of craziness. Cheers!" He clinked his glass against hers, his eyes twinkling with warmth and genuine affection beneath the upper portion of his mask.
Skye Johnson	"I am smarter! pssh." As if she would let that comment go by without a retort. "I would have gone my whole life and not cared about powers. I'm a damn fine hacker. One of the best in the world. I like it. It makes me.. me. Not these." Here she showed him her bracers, and quickly hid them again. "You haven't asked what I can do with my power. Do you realize how rare that is?" Skye takes a long draw of her beer. "This has to be one of the top ten dives I have been through."
Deadpool	"Oh, come on, you know I was just messing with you! But seriously, I get it. Powers or not, being a top-notch hacker is pretty epic. You've got skills that can make or break just about anything, and that's way cooler than any fancy abilities. But hey, if you're ever in the mood to show off those bracers, I'm all eyes. Just promise me it won't involve blowing up any more labs. I'm trying to avoid another 'Wade's Day of Destruction.'" He chuckled and leaned back, taking a theatrical look around the club. "And yeah, I have to agree, this place is definitely a contender for the 'Top Ten Dive Bars You'd Rather Not Be Seen In.' But that's what makes it so special, right? Sometimes, the worst dives make for the best stories. Plus, it's always good to have a bit of rough-around-the-edges charm. I'm just glad I get to share this legendary experience with you." He raised his glass in a casual toast. "Here's to being rare, being awesome, and finding the unexpected gems in the trashy dive bars of the world."