The Adeventures of DeadPool (and Young Justice)

Two stoic guards stood flanking the heavy doors of the underground auction house, their faces hidden beneath the iconic owl-shaped masks of the Court. Inside, Gotham's elite criminal underworld gathered, anticipating the night's forbidden auction.

A shadowed figure approached, walking with the kind of deliberate stride that demanded respect. The guards straightened as he neared. The suit was sharp, tailored perfectly to fit his frame. To the untrained eye, he looked like just another rich buyer. But the guards knew better.

"Welcome, Mr. Vincent 'Vince' Falcone," one of the guards said with a slight bow. "We've been expecting you."

Wade Wilson—disguised as Vincent 'Vince' Falcone, a distant cousin of the infamous Carmine Falcone—gave a subtle nod. The skin on his face pulled slightly from the stitches he'd done to Mario's corpse earlier that day, but it held up well enough. Vince was far from a household name in Gotham's crime scene, more of a forgotten relative who occasionally showed up to mingle with the family's darker dealings.

"Right on time, as always," Wade grunted, forcing his voice into the gravelly, disinterested tone that a man like Vince would use.

The guards remained composed, but one of them raised a gloved hand. "Your mask, sir? Surely you haven't forgotten."

Wade paused, feigning a search through his jacket. "Mask… right." He patted his pockets and shrugged casually. "Left it in the car. Been a long day. Family business, you know how it is~"

In the back of his mind, the ever-present voices chimed in. (Family business? Really? You wore a man's face for this! And now you just realize that it was fucking pointless. Great job~)

Wade mentally shrugged off the voice, keeping his expression neutral. "Sacrifices have to be made for the mission~" he talked back. "One dead Falcone..... Worth it!"

The guards exchanged a glance, and after a brief hesitation, one of them reached into a side pouch. "We have a spare mask, Mr. Falcone." He handed Wade a plain owl mask identical to theirs.

Wade accepted it with a nod. "Much appreciated," he muttered, slipping it on. The synthetic material was a snug fit, but it would do.

One of the guards gestured toward the interior. "Please proceed to your seat, Mr. Falcone. You'll find yourself at Seat 69."

"Lucky me," Wade replied with a smirk, and as he moved through the door, he felt the weight of the auction house's secrets pressing down on him.

The guards stepped aside. "Enjoy the evening, sir." They opened the door, offering him an entry into the decadent world inside..

Wade settled into his seat, casually adjusting the mask over his face. He leaned toward the woman beside him, his tone playful. "Hello, gorgeous. Is this your first time at one of these fancy gatherings?"

"It is, actually. Seems like you're a bit of a rookie too, huh?" she replied, her voice warm and inviting.

"I'm Vincent Falcone," Wade said smoothly, feigning sophistication.

"Elena," she responded. "So, Vincent, what brings you to this... wonderful event?"

Wade shrugged, keeping it light. "only for you~?"

"You're funny. But you should be careful; these parties can get dangerous if you aren't paying attention."

Just then, the fat man beside her leaned forward, his voice dripping with suspicion. "you literally broke our first rule!"

Wade chuckled, leaning back in his chair with feigned nonchalance. "Oh, come on! A little charm never hurt anyone. Besides, I'm just here to enjoy the show and, of course, to meet fascinating people like you and Elena."

Elena laughed, a sound that was almost musical. "You're quite the charmer, Vincent. Just remember, charm doesn't protect you from the darker side of Gotham."

"Good thing I'm not here to play the hero," Wade replied with a wink.

The fat man shifted, clearly not buying it. "Is that so? I'd hate to see someone like you get hurt because of a misunderstanding..."

Wade could feel the air tense up between them, but before he could drop another quip, a shadow moved in the corner of his eye. Silent as death, a Talon—a masked assassin of the Court of Owls—seemed to materialize from the darkness, stepping up to the fat man's side. His presence sent a cold chill through the room, unnoticed by the rest of the guests still engrossed in the auction.

A guard leaned down and whispered something into the fat man's ear, his voice a chilling rasp that sent shivers down Wade's spine. Whatever was said seemed to immediately shift the fat man's expression from mere suspicion to full-blown intrigue.

The fat man, his hand adjusting his mask slightly, turned back to Wade, his voice carrying a darker, more menacing tone. "Heard about the tragic death of Vincent Falcone. Such a pity—nobody saw it coming."

Wade's heart raced, but he kept his voice steady. "what Tragic?! Man, I swear these rumors ~"

(Wtf! That was two hours ago.....how fast does news travel!)

Just then, the auctioneer's voice rang out, cutting through the buzz of conversation. "Ladies and gentlemen! We are pleased to present the main dish of the evening—the Wabbajack!"

"Ladies and gentlemen! We are pleased to present the main dish of the evening—the Wabbajack!"

Wade's ears perked up, a mischievous grin spreading under his mask. He turned to Elena and the fat man, his voice dripping with playful excitement. "Oh, would you look at that? They're calling me!"