ARARR
OLD LOG. Deadpool meets a Spider-Man.
The high winds of the day have died down somewhat towards evening, but they do make high sky acrobatics a bit more challenging. Spider-Man is taking a breather, around the 30th story of an office building, facing away from the wall, his hands and feet on the window behind him. A janitor cleaning after hours is getting a very unusual view of Spider-Man, at the moment.
Spider-Man(#1395PXce)
The mask may be familiar to some. It completely covers the head, made of black elastoester. On either side, two large, somewhat teardrop shaped mirrors serve as eyes. The mask, and most of the rest of the costume, is criss crossed with an almost regular pattern of strong, silver webbing.
Spider-Man is tall, easily over six feet, and the black leather of the torso is molded to chest and muscles. The shoulders blend into blue elastoester on the upper arms, with a red band running down the outside. The blue is consigned to the underhalf of the lower arms, with black on the top half, and the red band continuing down and encircling the wrist. The black gloves on the hand have the same silver webbing as the rest of the body.
The black leather of chest is broken up by a stylized spider emblem on the center, the eight legs spreading out to wrap around the front of the chest. Under the arms, running down either side are strips of blue, underscoring the black. Encircling the waist is a belt of red material.
The legs are all black, with the scored silver webbing etched all over them. Halfway up the shins, the black turns into red, making for a cute little pair of booties. With tough manly webbing of course.
The evening's relative stillness is pierced a bit by the sound of a semi-sputtering mini-rocket engine in the sky a few hundred yards away... which emits from a small one-man glider unit, atop which rides a red-and-black clad man doing some serious booty-shaking. "COME on shake your BODY baby, do the CONGA! NO, you can't CONTROL yourself any LONGAH!"
"Merciful Zeus," Spider-Man mutters to himself, snapped out of a rather pleasant revelry involving leather and webbing. A decision is made. Spider-Man must find out more about this guy. A webline arcs to a building in the path between him and Deadpool, and he pushes off, swinging towards him. He'll think of a reason why along the way.
Deadpool spins his glider around and brings it to a bit of an awkward stop, facing the direction he came from.... and he keeps that groove thang shakin'. "Feel the rhythm OF the music getting STRONGAH! Um..." He pauses... scratching his head... "Zooby dabba zooby dabba... do the conga BEAT!" On the last word, he does a punctuating pelvic thrust - and at the apex of that thrust, there's a big BOOOOM! suddenly echoing from one of the top floors of a skyscraper below him... sending a jet of flame firing from its windows, not to mention glass, papers, and a dude careening out as well.
Spider-Man can't help noticing how it's odd, that his spider-sense is starting to tingle. The guy's just singing, he doesn't seem dangero--The explosion cuts off his line of thought, and his grip on his webline, and he starts to plummet. Spinning and trying to figure out which way happens to be up, he shoots another webline, high and long, that swings him in a big arc to the building next to the one that just blew up. He yells up at Deadpool, "HEY!"
Deadpool nods his head and does a little celebratory "whoot whoot!" "HOT damn! Nothin' like a good ol'-fashioned earth-shattering kaboom to put the zestfully back into a fella's clean." He then takes note of a swingy-dude... wearing black, blue and pansy red booties (in direct contrast to Wade's manly red BOOTS). "Well, frost my shorts and call me Mysterio... is that my friendly neighborhood wall-pawer shouting indignantly at me? Well, land sakes!"
Hey, these booties are cool. "Oh. You've, heard of me," Spider-Man says, immediately placated by this, distracted. "Though usually it's wall-crawler, but--that's not the point!" Spider-Man starts climbing higher, to get on a more equal height with the tastefully dressed man in red and black.
Deadpool cocks an eyebrow beneath his mask... "Nope... the point would seem to be that you're not making any sort of effort to save that dude what's streaking down to his death right now... although to be perfectly honest, I'm gonna bet the The Big Kablooie's what did him in anyway. C4 does that ta people." He shrugs it off. "So, Spider-Ham, what brings you 'round these parts? We ain't get to many webheads in this neck o' the woods..."
"What?!" Spider-Man looks down, an arm all raised to save...nothing that he can see. "Oh, I get it. Yeah, I used to play Monkeys always look back in grade school. Well, I was just in the neighborhood when some nicely costumed guy on a sky scooter decided to 'blewed that thar buildin' up'."
Deadpool grins a bit at the costume comment. "Oh, you like it?" he asks, spreading his arms and showing off his outfit. "That is SUCH a relief - I've just been SO worried that all this time you'd have some sort of hissy fit tantrum about it, since SO many people have said it was a cheap knockoff, which I REALLY don't see... I mean, there's no BLUE anywhere... these philistines just can't really detect subtlety these days... it's such a tragedy, really... I..." He stops short. "Hey... you've got a different look about you... what happened to the classic togs?" Then a light goes off. "DING! I get it, you're one of those fancy 'alternate dimension' Spider-Dorks, right? The kind that wears leather and doesn't bother checking burning buildings to see if anyone else is in danger... Gotta love THAT." He winks and grins, giving the ol' thumbs up.
"Hey hey hey, I am native, born and bred," Spider-Man bites back indignantly. "To the dimension, if not the city," he amends. "Besides. I'd...look if someone was in there I'd just know okay!" Dammit dammit dammit. He didn't even think to look. Mental note: Look for survivors first, then persue, or at least shout at perpetrator. He does, however, start edging over, stealing looks in the direction of the exploded building. He's new at this. "Spider-Man wears blue?"
Deadpool nods to him. "Ahhhhh, yes. The much-ballyhooed 'Spider-Sense.' I've been meaning to ask - it's on ALL the Mad Bombers' minds - just what exactly does 'Spider-Sense' entail? Is it like hemorrhoids or is it more of an itchy sort of crotch crabs kind of feeling?" He grins slightly at the question. "Well... he wears a bit of blue here, a huge splash of RED all over it - it's really quite sporting... and then he's got these exQUISite black etchings all over the place, creating this edgy web effect that's just to DIE for..." Yes, his voice even gets swishier...
"It's more like a tingling, you know, like climbing the rope in gym class? But in your other head." IT's such a shame the guy is evil. Spider-Man kinda thinks he's funny. "So, closer on the second. Now, you got a name, or should I just go with soon to be punching bag?"
Deadpool smirks slightly at this. "Oh, now, hold the phone, Chuck E. Cheese... I thought we were bonding here! You know, a windswept mid-air conversation, the skin-tight outfits, the breathtaking view of the city in front of an open flame... I mean, I've read signals wrong before, Big Boy, believe me, but I was totally gonna let you get to third base later... but now, with your abusive language... *sob*... I think I'm gonna have to just give you the gift I got you and go home to my Haagen Dasz and Meg Ryan flicks..." He tosses a dark object wrapped in a pink ribbon towards him... and then suddenly ROCKETS away from him, but not without giving a little hand-phone signal and yelling "CAALLL MEEEEE!" Oh yeah, the object is a grenade, with a note that says "Love, Deadpool."
There is, sadly, an honest moment where Spider-Man thinks, oooo, present. He catches it irritably with one hand, and pulls off the note, looking at the grenade. "That would explain the tingling sensation I thought was love," Spider-Man mutters before throwing the grenade up as high as he can, and trying to dive down. It still isn't pleasant, the force ripping the soft part of the costume's arms, bits of shrapnel being caught in the leather on his chest, a few going a bit deeper, as he tumbles out of control. Heartbroken.
Deadpool watches the kaboom heartily, not figuring the simple trick is enough to really take out the Spider-Man, Spider-Man, Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man... but then again, he seemed a little green. He watches the little goof start tumbling... seeing the costume start tearing off... and he suddenly notices he's swooping down. "Patrick Swayze on a pogo stick..." he mutters to himself. "You're gonna RESCUE the little dork, aren't you, Wade?" Razzum frazzum good-influence hero-complex conscience-giving girlfriend crap. CRAP. CRAPPITY CRAP CRAP...
Find something, anything, to snag onto, Spider-Man's dizzy mind yells at him. A flash of something in the corner of his eye, and Spider-Man acts without thinking. He actually does much better, that way, and a webline streaks towards the glider.
And it tags the glider rather well, considering the circumstances. Of course, this leads to a goblin glider towing the groggy Spidey through the air like it's straight out of a comic book cover. Totally bitchin'. But before Spidey can really regain his senses, Deadpool arcs the glider over a rooftop and then, with a fancy swoop of a sword, cuts the webline off, letting him drop down onto the roof rather than plummeting to his doom. Then, he does some funky swooping with the glider, shakes his fist down at the wall crawler and bellows "WE'LL MEET AGAIN, SPIDER-MAAAAAN! AAH-HAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAAHA!" as he starts to spin away. So THAT'S what it's like to do the supervillain cackle. He ALWAYS wanted to do that.
Spider-Man's legs kick as he falls, and tumbles on to the roof, sliding with the momentum on his side. When he comes to a stop, he sits up a bit, just enough to see Deadpool do his villainous exit, then flops back down. "Oh god I hope not."
The high winds of the day have died down somewhat towards evening, but they do make high sky acrobatics a bit more challenging. Spider-Man is taking a breather, around the 30th story of an office building, facing away from the wall, his hands and feet on the window behind him. A janitor cleaning after hours is getting a very unusual view of Spider-Man, at the moment.
Spider-Man(#1395PXce)
The mask may be familiar to some. It completely covers the head, made of black elastoester. On either side, two large, somewhat teardrop shaped mirrors serve as eyes. The mask, and most of the rest of the costume, is criss crossed with an almost regular pattern of strong, silver webbing.
Spider-Man is tall, easily over six feet, and the black leather of the torso is molded to chest and muscles. The shoulders blend into blue elastoester on the upper arms, with a red band running down the outside. The blue is consigned to the underhalf of the lower arms, with black on the top half, and the red band continuing down and encircling the wrist. The black gloves on the hand have the same silver webbing as the rest of the body.
The black leather of chest is broken up by a stylized spider emblem on the center, the eight legs spreading out to wrap around the front of the chest. Under the arms, running down either side are strips of blue, underscoring the black. Encircling the waist is a belt of red material.
The legs are all black, with the scored silver webbing etched all over them. Halfway up the shins, the black turns into red, making for a cute little pair of booties. With tough manly webbing of course.
The evening's relative stillness is pierced a bit by the sound of a semi-sputtering mini-rocket engine in the sky a few hundred yards away... which emits from a small one-man glider unit, atop which rides a red-and-black clad man doing some serious booty-shaking. "COME on shake your BODY baby, do the CONGA! NO, you can't CONTROL yourself any LONGAH!"
"Merciful Zeus," Spider-Man mutters to himself, snapped out of a rather pleasant revelry involving leather and webbing. A decision is made. Spider-Man must find out more about this guy. A webline arcs to a building in the path between him and Deadpool, and he pushes off, swinging towards him. He'll think of a reason why along the way.
Deadpool spins his glider around and brings it to a bit of an awkward stop, facing the direction he came from.... and he keeps that groove thang shakin'. "Feel the rhythm OF the music getting STRONGAH! Um..." He pauses... scratching his head... "Zooby dabba zooby dabba... do the conga BEAT!" On the last word, he does a punctuating pelvic thrust - and at the apex of that thrust, there's a big BOOOOM! suddenly echoing from one of the top floors of a skyscraper below him... sending a jet of flame firing from its windows, not to mention glass, papers, and a dude careening out as well.
Spider-Man can't help noticing how it's odd, that his spider-sense is starting to tingle. The guy's just singing, he doesn't seem dangero--The explosion cuts off his line of thought, and his grip on his webline, and he starts to plummet. Spinning and trying to figure out which way happens to be up, he shoots another webline, high and long, that swings him in a big arc to the building next to the one that just blew up. He yells up at Deadpool, "HEY!"
Deadpool nods his head and does a little celebratory "whoot whoot!" "HOT damn! Nothin' like a good ol'-fashioned earth-shattering kaboom to put the zestfully back into a fella's clean." He then takes note of a swingy-dude... wearing black, blue and pansy red booties (in direct contrast to Wade's manly red BOOTS). "Well, frost my shorts and call me Mysterio... is that my friendly neighborhood wall-pawer shouting indignantly at me? Well, land sakes!"
Hey, these booties are cool. "Oh. You've, heard of me," Spider-Man says, immediately placated by this, distracted. "Though usually it's wall-crawler, but--that's not the point!" Spider-Man starts climbing higher, to get on a more equal height with the tastefully dressed man in red and black.
Deadpool cocks an eyebrow beneath his mask... "Nope... the point would seem to be that you're not making any sort of effort to save that dude what's streaking down to his death right now... although to be perfectly honest, I'm gonna bet the The Big Kablooie's what did him in anyway. C4 does that ta people." He shrugs it off. "So, Spider-Ham, what brings you 'round these parts? We ain't get to many webheads in this neck o' the woods..."
"What?!" Spider-Man looks down, an arm all raised to save...nothing that he can see. "Oh, I get it. Yeah, I used to play Monkeys always look back in grade school. Well, I was just in the neighborhood when some nicely costumed guy on a sky scooter decided to 'blewed that thar buildin' up'."
Deadpool grins a bit at the costume comment. "Oh, you like it?" he asks, spreading his arms and showing off his outfit. "That is SUCH a relief - I've just been SO worried that all this time you'd have some sort of hissy fit tantrum about it, since SO many people have said it was a cheap knockoff, which I REALLY don't see... I mean, there's no BLUE anywhere... these philistines just can't really detect subtlety these days... it's such a tragedy, really... I..." He stops short. "Hey... you've got a different look about you... what happened to the classic togs?" Then a light goes off. "DING! I get it, you're one of those fancy 'alternate dimension' Spider-Dorks, right? The kind that wears leather and doesn't bother checking burning buildings to see if anyone else is in danger... Gotta love THAT." He winks and grins, giving the ol' thumbs up.
"Hey hey hey, I am native, born and bred," Spider-Man bites back indignantly. "To the dimension, if not the city," he amends. "Besides. I'd...look if someone was in there I'd just know okay!" Dammit dammit dammit. He didn't even think to look. Mental note: Look for survivors first, then persue, or at least shout at perpetrator. He does, however, start edging over, stealing looks in the direction of the exploded building. He's new at this. "Spider-Man wears blue?"
Deadpool nods to him. "Ahhhhh, yes. The much-ballyhooed 'Spider-Sense.' I've been meaning to ask - it's on ALL the Mad Bombers' minds - just what exactly does 'Spider-Sense' entail? Is it like hemorrhoids or is it more of an itchy sort of crotch crabs kind of feeling?" He grins slightly at the question. "Well... he wears a bit of blue here, a huge splash of RED all over it - it's really quite sporting... and then he's got these exQUISite black etchings all over the place, creating this edgy web effect that's just to DIE for..." Yes, his voice even gets swishier...
"It's more like a tingling, you know, like climbing the rope in gym class? But in your other head." IT's such a shame the guy is evil. Spider-Man kinda thinks he's funny. "So, closer on the second. Now, you got a name, or should I just go with soon to be punching bag?"
Deadpool smirks slightly at this. "Oh, now, hold the phone, Chuck E. Cheese... I thought we were bonding here! You know, a windswept mid-air conversation, the skin-tight outfits, the breathtaking view of the city in front of an open flame... I mean, I've read signals wrong before, Big Boy, believe me, but I was totally gonna let you get to third base later... but now, with your abusive language... *sob*... I think I'm gonna have to just give you the gift I got you and go home to my Haagen Dasz and Meg Ryan flicks..." He tosses a dark object wrapped in a pink ribbon towards him... and then suddenly ROCKETS away from him, but not without giving a little hand-phone signal and yelling "CAALLL MEEEEE!" Oh yeah, the object is a grenade, with a note that says "Love, Deadpool."
There is, sadly, an honest moment where Spider-Man thinks, oooo, present. He catches it irritably with one hand, and pulls off the note, looking at the grenade. "That would explain the tingling sensation I thought was love," Spider-Man mutters before throwing the grenade up as high as he can, and trying to dive down. It still isn't pleasant, the force ripping the soft part of the costume's arms, bits of shrapnel being caught in the leather on his chest, a few going a bit deeper, as he tumbles out of control. Heartbroken.
Deadpool watches the kaboom heartily, not figuring the simple trick is enough to really take out the Spider-Man, Spider-Man, Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man... but then again, he seemed a little green. He watches the little goof start tumbling... seeing the costume start tearing off... and he suddenly notices he's swooping down. "Patrick Swayze on a pogo stick..." he mutters to himself. "You're gonna RESCUE the little dork, aren't you, Wade?" Razzum frazzum good-influence hero-complex conscience-giving girlfriend crap. CRAP. CRAPPITY CRAP CRAP...
Find something, anything, to snag onto, Spider-Man's dizzy mind yells at him. A flash of something in the corner of his eye, and Spider-Man acts without thinking. He actually does much better, that way, and a webline streaks towards the glider.
And it tags the glider rather well, considering the circumstances. Of course, this leads to a goblin glider towing the groggy Spidey through the air like it's straight out of a comic book cover. Totally bitchin'. But before Spidey can really regain his senses, Deadpool arcs the glider over a rooftop and then, with a fancy swoop of a sword, cuts the webline off, letting him drop down onto the roof rather than plummeting to his doom. Then, he does some funky swooping with the glider, shakes his fist down at the wall crawler and bellows "WE'LL MEET AGAIN, SPIDER-MAAAAAN! AAH-HAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAAHA!" as he starts to spin away. So THAT'S what it's like to do the supervillain cackle. He ALWAYS wanted to do that.
Spider-Man's legs kick as he falls, and tumbles on to the roof, sliding with the momentum on his side. When he comes to a stop, he sits up a bit, just enough to see Deadpool do his villainous exit, then flops back down. "Oh god I hope not."