quipsandthwips | Deerington Inbox

Are you SERIOUS right now?
Come on dude I came all the way out here!

It's December, it's cold!

you're being totally unreasonable here

[A decent walk and some huffing later, and he's knocking at your front door.]

[ Peter's probably lucky Wade is the one to answer his front door and not Cable. He doesn't open it all the way either. Just enough to poke his head out and squint through his mask at Peter. ]

Why and how do you know where I live? And stop blowing my phone up or I'm literally going to blow it up.

[ Oh, and hey he has x6 more weapons strapped to his body than he did last time. Yes, those are swords. ]

Go away.

... I asked people on the street which way the red guy loudly muttering at himself and flailing his arms around went.

[He crosses his arms, squinting fearlessly.

Also jesus, are you some kind of ninja? Potentially of the weeb variety?]

You're the one who asked me to go do these trial runs.

Isn't it kind of important?

That sounds incredibly, incredibly fake.

[ Hope Peter wasn't expecting to be let in, because Wade's just standing there... squint glaring at him.

And yes. Yes he is a ninja. ]

And then I changed my mind. So why are you on my front door step. You can huff and puff all you like.

[ Yes it is important, but he's feeling sore right now. Might have something to do with the whole being a weird multiverse clone of his favourite teenager in Deerington. ]

Changed your—

I waited a good twenty minutes by a bunch of bald trees in the middle of winter!

[He puts his hands on his hips, and plays by Deadpool's rules.]

Why are you being such a massive ass-hat?

[ Wade's expression changes to something less hostile, almost like he's staring blankly at Peter from behind his mask. Then he turns, leaving the door open to dig in the coat closet by the door.

What he returns with is a pretty fucking ugly red flannel coat. Oh, he does have "normal" clothes. But Pete doesn't get any warning before Wade's opening the door all the way and moving into Pete's space to drape the coat over his shoulders. It's probably a size too big and smells like Weasel's bar and Wade but at least he's trying to be nice.

When he lets Peter have his personal space back it's so Wade can pull his front door closed.] I'm so proud of you. Was that your first profanity? By the end of the month you'll be saying your one and only fuck. Better save it for an important moment.

[He, not for the first time, is completely thrown a curveball here. Is this just what he's gonna expect from this guy every time they cross paths, accidentally or in a huff? He stares for a moment in confusion, said (ugly) flannel coat hanging off his shoulders. Like, sure, he was kinda chilly from all the stationary waiting, but.

........]

Like I said: 23-years-old.

I say a lot of bad words.

[He's also said plenty at age fifteen, but mentioning it in that way will only make him try to... chug bleach or something all over again, so he thinks better of it, even if it's a smug thought. Instead he elects for broadcasting the immediate next one:]

... What lumberjack did you murder to get this thing.

Edited 2018-12-04 22:47 (UTC)

[ Ah, yes another reminder that he's an adult and a-okay to flirt with. At this point Wade's starting to wonder if Peter actually liked the flirting. ]

You just said "ass-hat" like it's a real bad word combination.

[ Once Wade's front door is shut securely, Wade lifts a hand to turn Peter around and inspire him to start walking away from the house. ] His name was Paul. You would think someone named Paul wouldn't be that terrifying, but you bring in the blue ox - Babe. I barely escaped with my life and that coat. [ Does it ever seem like Wade's just trying to amuse himself with his stupid jokes? ]

Bold judgement from the guy who was clearly rooting through Ellen Page's closet for an outfit.

[He just doesn't want you to associate him with a teenager and scrub your face with bleach--wait a minute there buster.]

Hey! I'm fashionable. I'm hip.

[He says, dressed in an old T-Shirt, thrift store jeans, and an ugly lumberjack flannel.

Which to be fair, is a good hip-ster aesthetic. Or maybe he's just a Niravana mega-fan.

Also he's ignoring your terrible joke.]

Also, are we gonna go actually do the needle thing, or am I gonna go make sure nobody falls on their ass at the skating rink? [Which is a pretty low-key Spider-Man thing, but whatever, he can do it as Peter Parker.] Or, you know, warn people if I see evil lake monsters. Either/or.

Edited 2018-12-05 19:55 (UTC)

Eeesh, you sound like you're straight out of the middle of a mid-life crisis. Are you okay? Do we need to talk about this? I'm here to listen about how you want to buy a motorcycle and get a tramp stamp. Please take me with you when you get the tramp stamp.

[ Right... ANYWAY. ]

Do you want to make sure no one falls on their ass at the skating rink -- wait -- are you inviting me to go skating? [ It's easy to see his nonexistent eyebrows raise behind the black part of his mask. ] We don't have to do the needle thing. [ Really, he just wanted to hang out... He's allowed to be lonely okay. Cable hardly counts as company half the time. ]

[He scoffs, rolling his eyes to the heavens.]

I’ve been having a mid-life crisis since high school.

And we’re doing the needle thing. That’s the whole point of this — and wouldn’t you like to know how far you can be from someone before accidentally stab them by proxy? [Wade’s a questionable person sometimes, but he’s got a good heart. Peter has an eye for these things, even if said good hearts can also go rotten with other fatalistic flaws — thanks, Doc. Anyway, he just knows Wade would give himself a hell of a hard time if he accidentally got someone hurt just because they were nearby.] You ready or what?

Edited 2018-12-15 06:12 (UTC)

I've got you beat- eighth grade. [ Is that a smile in his voice, yes, yes it is. ]

Here? Now? Wow, you're so forward, I would have never taken you for an exhibitionist. [ But then there's a pause in his bravado... He seems to contemplate something before bringing a gloved hand up to his mouth and tugging off one of his gloves with his teeth.

And that certainly is the hand of a burn victim right there. Don't stare!!! He doesn't like when people stare!!! He shoves the glove halfway into one of his pouches and digs around in another for a small Hello Kitty measuring tape, that clearly was made with kids in mind. He holds it out to Peter to take the beginning to start it. At least he's seemed to think this through to some extent. ]

[S C O F F

But don't think he doesn't notice the burned-looking hand. Because he definitely noticed it. And he is very goddamn careful to mask a visible reaction to that; alright. That would explain something, potentially. Or a... lot of things. Jesus.

... He pinches the end of the tape measure between his index and thumb, and takes (1) step backward.]

You clearly have me all figured out.

Go ahead, give it a whirl.

['Stab you with a needle to stab me, I can take it, champ.']

Try not to bleed on my coat.

[ His scarred hand reaches into yet another pouch and - ] Ow! FuFred Savage! [ Returns with a sewing needle sticking out of his index finger. He looks up from it to Peter. Even behind his mask there's an expression that's hard to miss. He could just leave that in and run away before Peter gets too much of an eyeful of horrible cancer skin.

No. This is important. He tips his finger towards his palm and pulls the needle out with his thumb and middle finger. Enjoy that little ouchie. ] Are we having fun yet?

Hey, don't use Fred Savage's name as a curse. That's rude.

[He winces, though, at that finger. Look, just because he has a good pain tolerance doesn't mean he wants to deal with things like paper cuts. Those are almost as bad as getting shot (no they're not).

But oh, there it goes! And Peter looks down with a frown at the blood welling up on his finger, trickling down.]

Okay, so predictably — not at arm's length.

[... This is gonna take some time, huh. Man.

He takes another step back.]

Spoiler alert: I am rude.

[ Also he does what he wants ok.

Wade watches him closely before letting out a sigh. ] Wait, wait, I know it works from at least... [ He takes about three steps back from Peter. ] Here. This is about how far away those kids were when they tried to kill me. [ He takes one more step back and glances at Peter, wanting confirmation before he jabs again. ]

[Ow. Okay, well. It feels like a bee keeps growing a new tail to box with him. No biggie, though. As he watches another drop of blood well up on his finger, he looks to the measuring tape with cool mathematical thoughtfulness.]

Aaaalrighty.

Six feet, still bounces.

... Wait, what?

What's this about murderous kids?

[ Wade is pretty sure he'd pay money to see Peter work if he made that problem solving face. And he's distracted now - oh wait what? Oh. ]

A couple months back, I went into this corn maze thing and a bunch of anklebiters wielding sickles attacked me. Then little you found me and helped and then we both got attacked. We made it out alive though. He looked pretty scared - strong kid too. Helped me walk when my healing factor was on the fritz. I thought he was gonna pass out when I got stabbed and pulled it out though.

[ Sir, take a step back. ]

I offer free magical boo-boo kisses bee tee dubs.

... You literally just described Children of the Corn.

[A pause.]

But I bet he was pretty freaked out — luckily for us, we got a lot tougher going into high school. It's good that you two were around for each other; heee's gonna need all the parental eyes on him we've got, if he's anything like I was at his age...

[He takes another step back.]

Eight feet now. Give it another shot.

Trust me, I'm aware. I was making Children of the Corn jokes left and right. The kiddo didn't appreciate them though. Oh, youths.

[ It's Wade's turn to pause and just stare. ]

I'm not usually the type people want babysitting. Actually, I'm pretty much the complete opposite.

[ Parental. What a word. He jabs his finger again, not looking away from Peter ]

I'm so sorry they did that to you. Nobody deserves to have a joke go unnoticed.

[He winces as another blood droplet grows.

(He's suddenly concerned that this lasts ten football fields).]

... Ten feet.

And I mean — true, you're a little... unorthodox.

But you're a hero, right? And you obviously care.

Thank you, your condolences really make me feel a lot better about it.

[ If he's being a little overly snarky it's because he's starting to feel bad about all those winces and ouchie faces Peter keeps pulling. Yuck, he doesn't like feeling guilt, that's an icky one, someone take it back. ]

Hey, we don't have to do this. I can definitely just figure it out some other way. [ Er... With someone else. Like Cable. Or Logan....

He's not jabbing himself again, he's looking at Peter a bit like a kid waiting to be told to go to the corner and think about what he did. ]

And about the whole... hero thing. I'm more of like. A kinda hero. Like... more hero than bad guy, definitely!

[ Ah, yes. This conversation. ]

[He wags his hand as if he'd burned it instead of it being pin-cushioned, wrinkling his nose.]

I told you, I'm good. Let's keep it moving — how about twelve feet?

[He steps back, not particularly offering an ounce of slack in the answer. If he said he's gonna do something, then... he's gonna do it. No if, ands, or buts. That's just how Parkers operate. But, uh. He is admittedly shifting his attention a little to the admission.]

... I mean. I didn't really coin you as one of those shiny, holier-than-thou heroes with plastic hair and magically sparkling biceps and long-winded catch-phrases. [It was a joke, but also - let's be real, there are assholes like that.] Define 'more hero than bad guy' for me.

[ Peter is definitely going to be the death of him. He waits a moment before jabbing himself again, pouring behind the mask. Yes, that is a bottom lip poking forward. ]

What, you don't think my biceps sparkle? I'll have you know my biceps are sparklier than a strip club dressing room. [ He's just trying to fill the void of that demand with words... ugh. ] Definitions are so definite... I'd be doing us both a disservice if I even tried. I'm more like a guy that you hire to deal with the worse guys. Actually, that's pretty much exactly what I am.

Do I stop bad guys from doing bad things? Yes. Do I maim and sometimes kill the very bad guys doing bad things - also yes. But only the ones that deserve it. [ His next sentence is a little rushed like he's afraid Peter will be afraid of him. ] I wouldn't hurt someone like you - I wouldn't hurt you - I'm feeling bad enough as it is about this. I mean unless you come out as like - a child abuser or something. You don't punch kittens right?

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