Wade scrambled to take cover behind Cable’s shield. He was going to lose the money he paid on these suits for sure, god-fucking-damn-it. Why couldn’t they just be investigating an actual crime? Why did it have to be a made up threat that lured them into a trap? Is that why the food was so shitty? He would never know.
“Keep me covered a second here. I had to tell you to do that because you can’t read my mind. This next part is gonna be mighty interestin’ for you, because you can’t read my mind.” Wade fumbled with the zipper at his crotch and pulled it down quick. He reached his palm in and pressed his tongue out against his top lip while he struggled with something in his pants. “I promise I’m not cranking my hog.” A moment later, Wade had produced his Deadpool mask from his underwear and pulled it over his head.
Zipper: zipped. Mask: on. Attitude: up.
“Man, that’s better. I could barely breathe without this. Now then, what kind of piss-dribble flavored goons are we gonna have to fuck up here?” Deadpool peered through the shield at the hail of gunfire and muzzle flashes. They were going to be flanked in less than twenty seconds by the enemy making their way up the stairs.
“Obviously the heavily armed, recently sprung from prison types,” he pried a fire extinguisher from its wall fixings and hefted it, testing the weight, “this will be fun.” Deadpool shot a masked grin back to Cable and risked the bullets as he dashed to head off the three criminals on the staircase to their right.
They raised their submachine guns at the sight of the red mask, but Deadpool swung the fire extinguisher in a wide arc and smacked all three of them across the chest. They fell backwards, clattering loudly back to the bottom of the stairs with a number of cuss words.
It wouldn’t take them long to recover and be back on the offensive. Wade stood with his back to Cable and voiced what might have been the only sensible thing he had said all evening.
“We might wanna fall back, set up somewhere a little less open, take a few by surprise, steal some of their guns, then go to fuckin’ town. What do you think? Relaying the idea of a plan vocally because you can’t read my mind!”
Christ, he was regretting telling the mouthy jackass. He does cover the man, shield remaining up as his head craned enough to see the shifting man out of the corner of his eye. At the added comment about his dick, Nathan rolled his eyes. Though, he wished he hadn’t when he yanked out his mask from his fucking briefs.
“The vendetta types, I assume,” he grunted in annoyance. He looked around, trying to find the best weapon now that they were mostly focused on Deadpool. He backed up from the bannister, eyes finally landing on the pair of large chandeliers over the open room below.
“Your turn to keep ‘em busy, hot shot!” He yelled over the hail of bullets coming up their way. He could hear a litany of shouts, but understanding them was nigh-on impossible, and he hoped that they were screaming about Deadpool.
He moved as close to he bannister as he could without risking being too in the line of fire, and reached both hands out. There was a chance it’d piss off the virus that ate at him, but at this point it was that or just accept he’d be fodder for criminals that had, admittedly, gotten the better of them for a moment.
The ceiling rumbled, crystalline affects dropping down under the stress of the telekinetic pull. Cracks snapped out from the chandelier, metal groaning and lights flickering as more and more of the dangling art pieces became dislodged. He could hear screaming from below, attempts to warn each other of the precarious decorations.
Finally, they broke loose with a shriek of metal. Lights continued their frantic flickering until they died as cords ripped and tore out from the combination of the chandeliers’ weights and telekinetic pressure. With screams from below and the sound of shattering glass, the chandeliers fell onto those below that weren’t fast enough to get out of the way. He stepped back, breathing labored as he recovered from the effort.
“That surprising enough?” He asked after a moment. “Let’s move, jackass.”