|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Tue Mar 11, 2008 7:33 pm
 Just a normal day, the sun was shining, people were places, and Wade was ploped on a chair, mask pulled up so that his maw could be seen, drinking a beer. He was going to spend some time with his son today. Ok, so maybe it wasn't such a normal day. It wasn't that often that the Merc With A Mouth hung out with his kids. He saw them everyday, was there if they needed him, but there weren't all that many 'father and kid' moments when the day was done. Really it was about time that he spent a little more time with his kids, or rather his son as he had no clue where 'Little Penelope' (which he still called Pestilence dispite her objections to the name) had gone off to. Which ment that he'd be spending some time with Famine. Some good father/son bonding.
Sounded good to him.
"She has an allowance now? -What IS the world coming to." the merc uttered in response to a TV that was on in the corner. "That's like Mary Ann getting arrested, what will Gilligan do without her. --And how does someone get arrested on an uninhabited island? Better yet, why is Jessica Alba so hot? She gives the real Invisible Woman a run for her money." He blinked, before tossing a chicken popper in his mouth. At least the pop culture news hadn't started talking about those crap singers.
Wait. He was supposed to be doing something.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Mar 12, 2008 1:56 pm
 Famine had been hovering placidly behind his father's couch for the past several minutes. They had been supposed to meet to go out and do, mmm, something or other, but the young male hadn't minded waiting. Watching Deadpool scarf down processed food and watch incomprehensible human shows was moderately amusing, if only because Famine was still trying to puzzle out what his father got from the activity. No one was exploding anything, and surely tea would have tasted better than fermented grain.
"Why is that human 'hot'?" Famine questioned, breaking the silence. He hoped that Dad didn't expect him to sit down. Touching Deadpool's filthy furniture upholstery was out of the question. Those grease spots wouldn't be any good for his boots.
"Those human femmes... mmm, they look like they have tumors on their chests. It's very strange."
And wouldn't they get in the way? How was one supposed to tell if a potential mate was well-built with all that jiggling fat in the way? Famine wasn't the sort of male to get very worked up about his sexual identity, but he did understand that kitsu had certain biological needs, and felt himself qualified to make aesthetic judgments. Those human breasts were hideous.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Mar 12, 2008 6:04 pm
Wade tilted his head back at the voice of another, his son's voice to be precise. His ears raised, as he simply stared at Famine. Why was she hot? What kind of question was- Ok well Famine had been born four-legged and furry, so his perception of 'hot' might have been a bit different. Didn't he have rather blunted emotions as well? Such things were certainly good for mercenary work, also when it came to breaking hearts.
"Figure, size. Just genrally hot." the merc nodded, opening his maw to say something more when Famine made his comment.
Oh the comment of comments. Had Wade been chuging down his beer at that moment, it would have been spat right back out. Tumors? On their chests? He really couldn't help but let out a laugh. "That's what makes them so much hotter. -And it's like they say, the bigg-" Another pause. The male quickly frowned at what had fliped onto the TV. Picking up the remote he switched it off.
Finishing the last of his beer, he turned around, hopping off the back of the chair and landing next to Famine. "Right! Where was I? -Spatulas? -Enchiladas? -Big chested women? --To the bar!" They were supposed to be doing something, so why not hang out at the bar, have a few drinks, do some of that father and son chatting.
Flicking the crumbs off his gloved paws he gave Famine's back a gentle push towards the door.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Mar 12, 2008 9:31 pm
Famine tumbled out the door, floating head-over tails. The motion didn't bother him. It took less effort than pushing himself, and twisting and turning in space were natural parts of living life at zero gravity.
"Is there tea at the bar?" He wondered, as he flipped weightlessly over the porch. Inertia could keep Famine going for hours in the same direction, unless he gathered the will to stop himself. Mmm, what an interesting feeling it was, when the blood rushed to his head.
"What about books?"
Since his father was involved, the likelihood of either of those things was very low, but Famine still had to ask.
"What about a fight?"
He hoped he wouldn't be bored.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Mar 13, 2008 12:39 am
The merc followed behind his son, watching him float and tumble. He certainly did float a lot, of course Bryna floated a lot to. He'd never gotten around to asking why, and he probably never world. Asking about random things to do with floating, maybe. Random things that would one way or another lead to talk of ninjas, dinosaurs, women, guns, or interdimensional space aliens from the planet Krypton Kosmos.
Tea at a bar? "People drink tea at bars? -People drink tea?" he was simply teasing, he very well knew that Famine enjoyed drinking tea, and lots of it. "They might, but I'm sure it'd be old and dusty. -Of course tea gets better with age right, so I'm sure you have nothing to worry about."
Books? Had he ever been to a bar with books? Better yet, had he ever looked for a book when in a bar? "No books. Unless you call the hard to make out writings on the wall a book. -But think of it this way. Nothing to distract you from the beer, the women, and those little peanuts they keep in a jar. --Those poor little nuts, never to be together." They were tasty though. So very tasty.
Now a fight when Wade was around, well there were some pretty good chances for that. He had gotten into many bar fights. "Why? You planing on picking a fight with someone? In need of backup? Should I have brought my bazooka? -I should have. Blow off some zombie heads. Kick the crap out of those undercover ninjas. The unwanted sidekicks! And punch in a few teeth. --And make sure I don't get shrunken down and forced to ride a urinal cake." The chances of that happening a second time were slim to none after all. It's not like Pym Particles were just floating around in this world.
It wouldn't take them long to reach where they were going, which also ment that Deadpool was going to be talking a whole lot more, very, very soon.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Mar 14, 2008 10:05 am
Famine idly toyed with the leather bracers that circled his forepaws. He had grown so used to them that he usually barely noticed they were there, but every once in a while they were good for occupying his paws when he wasn't sure what else to do with himself.
Famine supposed he must have some sort of attachment for Deadpool, as Deadpool was the one who'd sired him, but- mmm. They had very different outlooks on life. Famine didn't know what he was supposed to say to his father Conversation wasn't one of his talents.
"In the human world, what's the purpose of 'bars'?" Famine asked.
Their own 'bar' was really the kitchen of the worn old HQ cabin, scuffed and dirty from the passing of dozens of kitsu before them. Famine floated some beverages out of the refrigerator and resolved to not even think about touching the ground.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Mar 14, 2008 11:59 pm
Deadpool's outlook on life tended to change with his moods, however his mood had been his usual crazy since he had come to this world. There wasn't much to change his mood, as there certainly wasn't as much chaos compared to the universe he happened to be from. And as long as his mood remained as it was, he'd keep blabbing on and on whether Famine spoke or not.
Covered ears perked, didn't bars everywhere have the same purpose? Then again Kitsusagi were odd, and different, not to mention the 'bar' was really more of a part of the kitchen in the large HQ. "Having a drink, watching the game, getting drunk, picking up the ladies. That kind of stuff. People eat there occasionally too...I think. Just think, beer, women and some sports game."
That was a decent enough explination of a bar, wasn't it? Really he usually just went for the beer and the women, or to meet people about some mercenary work.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Mar 15, 2008 7:30 pm
Famine felt a strange sensation in his chest. It was a funny sort of swiftness, frail and jumbled, like the spindly legs of a colt tangling during its first long gallop. He supposed that this emotion must be panic.
Dad was talking about femmes. Famine was well aware of the sorts of things that Dad got up to with Mom, considering their loud and active love-life, but even he had limits. If Dad started talking about her... ugh. Famine would be forced to float him out a window. He wasn't cold-blooded enough to handle those kinds of details.
"Is that what you did for courtship, before? As a human?" Famine tried to steer the subject away from any danger zones, while floated some bowls out of the chipped old cupboards. "Thinking and... sports games. I'm good at thinking. I don't think I'd be good at sports games."
Mmmm. Not that he'd paid much attention to how courting functioned for kitsu. Famine was aware of his... incapacity. Whatever went on between the couples in his household was unlikely to happen for him or his sister. Physically, he supposed that there might some interesting avenues to explore, but love affairs were so messy.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Mar 16, 2008 3:18 am
Panic. Now why was it that Deadpool seemed to posess the power to instill that emotion in just about anyone? Both panic and embarrassment seemed to follow when the merc was around. Along with quite a few more emotions, but his insanity certainly had its effects on people.
His insanity and his mouth. Or was that the same thing?
Now floating his father out a window certainly would stop the merc from talking, if just for five seconds. When Wade started talking, it was rather hard to get him to stop. Getting him to change the topic was slightly easier, but it did not guarantee that he'd start talking about a better subject. It was all up to chance...or luck.
Courtship, not a word Wade heard too often, but Famine did spend a lot of time reading, and his vocabulary certainly showed it. "Going to bars, buying drinks, and picking up ladies? Well that was one way. -But I have the moves. Well equiped and the ladies love me." That wasn't entirely true, as some women didn't quite like the fact that under his clothes he was rather extreamly scarred. He did however have quite a few close female friends (more then one would really imagine). Perhaps it was the fact that he was quite loyal, and could be rather protective when times called for it.
"You'd be great at sports games. --Well, if you stood on the ground. Unless it was an all powers sports game, then I'm still sure you'd give everyone a run for their money with your telekinetic mind powers." A powers sports game. Now that would be something to see. Something with very little respect for the rules. A sports game in complete and utter chaos.
Sounded fun.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Mar 17, 2008 4:42 pm
Moves? Like dances? Mmmm... Famine needed to start reading books that weren't about wars if he wanted to understand his father's cultural references. Mom liked to dance, but he couldn't imagine Dad engaged in an extended mating display.
Maybe that was what the singing girls in those music videos Dad watched were doing. They must have many children!
"A sports game...?"
Famine poured his father a bowl full of some unidentifiable alcohol, then hovered up to the cupboards to try to find some tea.
"Teach me."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Mar 17, 2008 8:59 pm
If anyone ever fully understood everything that Deadpool spoke about it would have driven them insane, or at least instilled mass horror into the poor being. With Famine's blunted emotions and adding in the fact that he was the son of the bizarre merc, understanding his father might not end with the usual results.
Wade sat back on his haunches, tails flicking slowly as Famine poured out some alcohol. What kind he wasn't so sure, but as long as it wasn't light or anything like that, it really didn't matter. Alcohol was alcohol, it was nice to have every now and then, even if just a bowl or even a whole bottle wouldn't get him drunk. Not that the merc wanted to get drunk, but alcohol sort of did loose some of the fun, when you had a healing factor that made it so the drink did nothing to him at all.
'When WAS the last time I was drunk? Something about Teletubbies? -No, but I'm sure it was something like that. --Or wait. Didn't I-? Yeah I'm sure I did. What did I do, go swimming in a pool filled with beer? -Hm. That sounds almost as good as that one time in the hot tub with-- Yeah.'
After taking a sip of whatever the drink was, he returned his attention to Famine. He seemed to be looking for something in the cupboards, probably tea or something of the sort. Why exactly Famine wouldn't drink any beer or other alcoholic drink was beyond Wade. It wasn't like he had been through a terrible drunken ordeal. Or had he?
"Teach you?" he repeated, arching a brow. "Teach you what exactly? Basketball- baseball- soccer- hockey -football -luge? Cheerleading?" There were so many options.
[ Famine made me think of crazy dance number Wade. D; -goes to weep for Tasky's loss of dignity- ]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Mar 18, 2008 6:30 pm
Famine was moderately taken aback. Not so much that he was forced to frown, wobble in the air, flick his tails, or otherwise visibly indicate his displeasure, but enough that an invisible little crease appeared in his brow. He had opened cupboards, disturbed dust, and rolled bottles, all to no avail. There was no tea in this so-called headquarters.
Could it really be true that most of his peers did not enjoy tea? Why shouldn't a sentient canid creature find pleasure in the combination of tannins, hot water, and bitter herbal flavor? Perhaps poor beverage choices were the reason why so many of his fellow kitsu were lamentably excitable. Famine was certain that a calming cup of earl grey could enlighten them as to the pleasures of a more detached perspective.
No matter. Famine would have water. His father, he knew, would not touch tea, and while Famine had no particular objection to alcohol, he feared that drinking some himself would impair his ability to float. The thought of walking through the dirt all the way back home was... not pleasant.
"A sporting game. That I would be good at." Famine looked down at his painfully thin wrists and barely-muscled arms. All the floating had taken a toll on his fitness. Did being so slim make him appear weak?
"Pestilence... mmm, she feels I float too often."
((*dies laughing* Reading that in conjunction with Famine's comments makes me think of Wade doing a mating dance for Tasky. XDDD))
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Mar 18, 2008 9:24 pm
Tea, something of which Deadpool wouldn't normally drink. Mostly it was beer or pop, sometimes coffee or something else that simply continued to prove that he didn't exactly eat healthy. Of course he didn't really need to eat healthy due to his healing factor. Perhaps once in a blue moon he'd drink tea, but given the choice, he'd rather drink something else.
The thought of a game that Famine would be good at caused for the merc, to lean back a bit. Famine's build and attitude would make it a tad hard to figure out something he'd be good at. Basketball seemed like it would be a no, having to run back and forth, and there was also the fact that he could simply float the ball into the basket time and time again. Soccer seemed out, since there was all that dirt.
Wade really had to wonder where Famine got this dislike of getting dirty from.
Baseball? Too much sand. Football? Dirt. Hockey? Hmmm, hockey might not be too bad, it was just cold, and you could get a little wet, but for the most part it wouldn't be as dirty. Until you added in the other players. Then there was the whole smacking each other into the side...But he didn't need to know about that.
Maybe he should go with the less physical sports. Like poker, or pool. Those sounded good, and a good game of poker was always fun. Infact Famine's blunted emotions would probably give him a decent enough poker face.
"Well there's always hockey, or poker."
[ XDD -dies- Tasky is not pleased by this. ]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Mar 20, 2008 5:33 am
Famine swiveled towards Deadpool without so much as a flick of his tails. Eerily still floating was one of the many creepy traits he had inherited from his maternal grandparents.
Wade hadn't seen his son's eyes since the day he was born. But if he could somehow have peered beneath Famine's thick curtain of silver hair, he might have noticed a small flicker of amusement in the younger male's golden eyes. The fact that Famine sort of enjoyed disturbing people, as much as he enjoyed anything in this world... that was pure Wilson blood.
"Floating will help me play poker? Mmmm... please explain."
Famine was still searching for that tea. A half-dozen steak knives bobbed behind him, as he sorted through a half-empty drawer.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Mar 20, 2008 12:42 pm
If anyone ever asked Wade of he'd ever seen his son's eyes chances were the merc would not know what to answer. While he had never seen them, if he had he would have quickly forgotten. The boy's hairstyle continually covering his eyes was about the same thing as his mask, it just happened to cover less. Had he ever gotten a glimpse and seen that flicker in his eyes, he would have been proud. Not that he already wasn't.
Floating in a poker game. Uses for such a thing in a game like that might have been decidedly hard for someone to come up with, but seeing as this was the Merc With a Mouth that Famine was talking to it was pretty clear that there would be many answers for such a question. Most annoying, or utterly useless.
"Oviously. You could peek at your opponents cards when they aren't paying attention. Or you could have things float around everyone's heads too keep them off their game. -Only those trained in the arts of the samurai attention span will be able to survive. --Then you can just go in with your katana and FWOOSH, chop the poker table in half." What did that last thing have to do with playing poker? Absolutly nothing, unless you lost the game and wanted to vent out some anger.
Wade blinked, watching Famine continue to shift though the cupboards and drawers, steak knives floating behind him. That was unquestionably new. He took another sip of his unidentifiable alcohol before wandering over to his son and leaning up against some of the unopened drawers. "Find any spatulas? --You know Lucifer, you might want to find something else to drink."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
