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✖ THE CARNIVAL
Ⅰ. ARRIVAL & THE TEMPLE
You can read all about your character's arrival in the game lore.
You can see the lights of the Ferris wheel from the water, and by the time you pull into port you can smell popcorn, cotton candy, grease, sawdust. Music drifts on the air, interspersed with screams from the rides.
The carnival is in town.
Not just any carnival, either - the carnival. The one to end all others. Every circus you ever read about or saw in a movie, with striped tents filled with acrobats and sideshows, midway games complete with carnival barkers in straw boater hats. But it's also every shitty fair that ever rolled through your hometown, with unreliable looking men with greasy mullets smoking as they jockey the Wild Mouse, the Gravitron, the Zipper, the Corkscrew. There's a constant stream of 80s hair metal playing underneath the roar of the rollercoaster tracks, blending somehow with the traditional piping organ of the carousel.
Experienced Travelers will know by now that every island has its own temple, and this one is no exception. It’s not in the carnival proper, though; if you step away from the lights of the midway and tents, you’ll notice dozens of old wooden circus trailers, arranged in a circle, growing tighter together the closer to the center you walk. The trailers are functional living places, with built in beds - sometimes one, sometimes two - and a small table and an old wood burning stove with a cooking top just big enough to boil a kettle on. There’s a toilet, but if you want a shower you’ll have to go outside and find a tent set up at the outskirts of the makeshift trailer park where there are tent showers set up, locker room style.
The clearing in the middle of the parked caravan is completely empty except for a solitary midway game: a towering high striker. It must be at least twenty feet tall, surmounted by a round, red bell. A wooden mallet is leaned against a sign next to the game that reads, predictably, TEST YOUR STRENGTH.
Step right up.
Ⅱ. HALL OF MIRRORS
When it comes to amusements, the Hall of Mirrors has always been second-fiddle to the Haunted House. But the line for the former was shorter, so here you are. The guy working the door has weasel eyes and is smoking. He gestures for you and whoever is behind you to enter together; "No singles. For safety."
The lights are a dull neon, cycling from deep blue to cyan to purple and back again. You find that your outstretched fingers will bump against smooth, clear glass as often as not. The mirrors reflect the maze back into itself over and over, disorienting and strange.
Some of the mirrors are convex, some concave, and as you pass them your reflection warps and bends alongside that of whoever you're stuck inside the maze with.
At some point you will realise that the reflection looking back at you isn't quite right. It's still you, sure, but it's not how you really look, not on the outside.
Looking back at you from the cold glass is how you perceive yourself. Perhaps that's stronger, perhaps uglier, perhaps as a sniveling child or an ancient hag. And this reflection is going to follow you from mirror to mirror as you desperately try to find your way out.
One of you spots an exit sign, bleeding red light. Only catch is that it's behind a pane of glass. And another. And another. You could break your way through all of them, certainly, but it's not as if there's anything laying around for you to use to do so. Just yourself, which might work in action movies but tends to cause a lot of physical damage in the real world.
Above the glass someone has placed a sticker that reads, “who are you really?” in black sharpie. Answer it, and the glass will swing open. Don't, and well...
Guess you'll have several years worth of bad luck.
Ⅲ. THE CAROUSEL
CW: childhood trauma
Old fashioned organ music and a million flashing lights draws you to the carousel. It's a vintage delight: huge, with ornate animals carved out of wood and lovingly hand painted. There are horses, of course, but also lions and leopards and birds and rabbits and wolves... any animal you could want! In fact, you'll see an animal that looks perfectly YOU. You just have to climb up on it for a ride.

Settled on your mount, the ride begins to move. To your surprise, it begins to move backwards. You can't seem to ungrip the pole you're hanging on to, so you're helpless to escape as the ride spins again and again.
When it stops and you step off, you will be younger. You will in fact be the same age you were when a formative event happened to you.
You're a kid at a carnival! How fun! Well, maybe you're not that young, and it's probably not very fun at all considering that now your trauma is fresh.
The only way to become your proper age again is to get on the carousel and get it to run forward. Depending on your age, you might not be able to figure any of that out, but surely one of the other Travelers can help you. You'll definitely need someone to man the carousel controls. Oh, and be careful not to knock it into overdrive...
Ⅳ. COULROPHOBIA
CW: clowns, suffocation
Who can possibly resist the big top? Not you! You're ushered into the tent and you take a seat in the stands, where you have an excellent view of the huge ring before you. The excitement in the air is palpable, and even if you're the grouchy type you'll find yourself a little bit thrilled.
It's a little surprising when the lights go up to the sound of screaming guitars. Mist belches from hidden foggers, and flames shoot from near the center of the ring. The lights stutter red, blue, green. The whole thing is a lot more rock show than it is Ringling Brother's.
At any rate, even if the ringmaster looks like a reject from a trailer park metal band and the music is liable to burst some eardrums, it's still a circus. There are trained horses and riders, contortionists, and a score of talented trapeze artists. It's all sparkling and impressive and terrific fun.
The trapeze artists take their bows, clearly ready for a break. And if a break is needed at the circus? You know what happens next, don't you?
SEND IN THE CLOWNS!
The clowns spill into the ring, all sorts of them! There's Harlequin and Pierrot, Auguste and Tramp. There's Bozos and Ronalds and Clarabelles and Krustys. Hopefully no Gacys, but there's so many of them that it's hard to know for sure.
One of these clowns - the one you hate the most, of course - approaches you in the stands. With comically exaggerated movements, it leans close to you and whispers...
Well. It whispers horrible things to you, really. It recounts to you some instance in your life where you delighted in the suffering of another, a moment where you really and truly were happy that somebody else was hurt. It's not a moment to be proud of, for sure, but as the clown tells your own secret shameful joy to you, you start to laugh. Really laugh - soon you're bent over double, tears running down your face, absolutely howling with laughter.
Your stomach hurts, and you're running out of breath. Very soon you won't be able to breathe at all.
Eventually, one of your fellow travelers won't be able to resist asking you, "What's so funny?"
The only way to stop laughing is to tell them. Otherwise you're going to pass out right where you sit, a creepy clown leering over you the whole time. Maybe your fellow traveler will be nice enough to drag you out of there if that happens, because if you're left alone? Everybody knows clowns get so much scarier alone in the dark.
It wouldn't be a party without some jams.
You can read all about your character's arrival in the game lore.
You can see the lights of the Ferris wheel from the water, and by the time you pull into port you can smell popcorn, cotton candy, grease, sawdust. Music drifts on the air, interspersed with screams from the rides.
The carnival is in town.

Experienced Travelers will know by now that every island has its own temple, and this one is no exception. It’s not in the carnival proper, though; if you step away from the lights of the midway and tents, you’ll notice dozens of old wooden circus trailers, arranged in a circle, growing tighter together the closer to the center you walk. The trailers are functional living places, with built in beds - sometimes one, sometimes two - and a small table and an old wood burning stove with a cooking top just big enough to boil a kettle on. There’s a toilet, but if you want a shower you’ll have to go outside and find a tent set up at the outskirts of the makeshift trailer park where there are tent showers set up, locker room style.
The clearing in the middle of the parked caravan is completely empty except for a solitary midway game: a towering high striker. It must be at least twenty feet tall, surmounted by a round, red bell. A wooden mallet is leaned against a sign next to the game that reads, predictably, TEST YOUR STRENGTH.
Step right up.
Notes:
1. Please remember to mark threads appropriately with Content Warnings when necessary.
2. These prompts are a jumping off point - how they affect your character and their development is up to you.
3. The island temple is accessible to all. The High Temple is only accessible to new characters this month - it will re-open to all others next month.
4. The Test your Strength game can be played by anyone. How well your character does is entirely up to you, but the game does not necessarily measure physical strength.
5. These residents of the island are normal humans. Killing them is possible and will affect the colour grading of your Scrywatch depending on the situation.
6. Any food found on the midway is safe to eat, and is consumable by non-human entities.
7. Have fun!
Ⅱ. HALL OF MIRRORS
When it comes to amusements, the Hall of Mirrors has always been second-fiddle to the Haunted House. But the line for the former was shorter, so here you are. The guy working the door has weasel eyes and is smoking. He gestures for you and whoever is behind you to enter together; "No singles. For safety."
The lights are a dull neon, cycling from deep blue to cyan to purple and back again. You find that your outstretched fingers will bump against smooth, clear glass as often as not. The mirrors reflect the maze back into itself over and over, disorienting and strange.

At some point you will realise that the reflection looking back at you isn't quite right. It's still you, sure, but it's not how you really look, not on the outside.
Looking back at you from the cold glass is how you perceive yourself. Perhaps that's stronger, perhaps uglier, perhaps as a sniveling child or an ancient hag. And this reflection is going to follow you from mirror to mirror as you desperately try to find your way out.
One of you spots an exit sign, bleeding red light. Only catch is that it's behind a pane of glass. And another. And another. You could break your way through all of them, certainly, but it's not as if there's anything laying around for you to use to do so. Just yourself, which might work in action movies but tends to cause a lot of physical damage in the real world.
Above the glass someone has placed a sticker that reads, “who are you really?” in black sharpie. Answer it, and the glass will swing open. Don't, and well...
Guess you'll have several years worth of bad luck.
Notes:
1. Yes, characters can bash their way out of the maze, but it is real glass and will cut anyone who isn’t invulnerable. There is a first aid station run by extremely unreliable carneys on the premises, so hopefully they can patch themselves up enough there.
Ⅲ. THE CAROUSEL
CW: childhood trauma
Old fashioned organ music and a million flashing lights draws you to the carousel. It's a vintage delight: huge, with ornate animals carved out of wood and lovingly hand painted. There are horses, of course, but also lions and leopards and birds and rabbits and wolves... any animal you could want! In fact, you'll see an animal that looks perfectly YOU. You just have to climb up on it for a ride.

When it stops and you step off, you will be younger. You will in fact be the same age you were when a formative event happened to you.
You're a kid at a carnival! How fun! Well, maybe you're not that young, and it's probably not very fun at all considering that now your trauma is fresh.
The only way to become your proper age again is to get on the carousel and get it to run forward. Depending on your age, you might not be able to figure any of that out, but surely one of the other Travelers can help you. You'll definitely need someone to man the carousel controls. Oh, and be careful not to knock it into overdrive...
Notes:
1. If your character does not get back on the carousel and ride it in reverse, they will revert to their actual ages at the end of the month.
2. Please be especially mindful of content warnings with underage characters. A reminder that the game does not allow explicit sexual content with minors.
3. You do not have to regress your character to childhood - if a very formative event happened at age 20 for example, you can choose that route instead.
4. Speeding up the carousel while it is moving forward will result in, you guessed it, aging your character UP. Obviously you can ride it backwards again to fix this, or again the aging will be reversed at the end of the month.
Ⅳ. COULROPHOBIA
CW: clowns, suffocation
Who can possibly resist the big top? Not you! You're ushered into the tent and you take a seat in the stands, where you have an excellent view of the huge ring before you. The excitement in the air is palpable, and even if you're the grouchy type you'll find yourself a little bit thrilled.
It's a little surprising when the lights go up to the sound of screaming guitars. Mist belches from hidden foggers, and flames shoot from near the center of the ring. The lights stutter red, blue, green. The whole thing is a lot more rock show than it is Ringling Brother's.
At any rate, even if the ringmaster looks like a reject from a trailer park metal band and the music is liable to burst some eardrums, it's still a circus. There are trained horses and riders, contortionists, and a score of talented trapeze artists. It's all sparkling and impressive and terrific fun.
The trapeze artists take their bows, clearly ready for a break. And if a break is needed at the circus? You know what happens next, don't you?
SEND IN THE CLOWNS!
The clowns spill into the ring, all sorts of them! There's Harlequin and Pierrot, Auguste and Tramp. There's Bozos and Ronalds and Clarabelles and Krustys. Hopefully no Gacys, but there's so many of them that it's hard to know for sure.

Well. It whispers horrible things to you, really. It recounts to you some instance in your life where you delighted in the suffering of another, a moment where you really and truly were happy that somebody else was hurt. It's not a moment to be proud of, for sure, but as the clown tells your own secret shameful joy to you, you start to laugh. Really laugh - soon you're bent over double, tears running down your face, absolutely howling with laughter.
Your stomach hurts, and you're running out of breath. Very soon you won't be able to breathe at all.
Eventually, one of your fellow travelers won't be able to resist asking you, "What's so funny?"
The only way to stop laughing is to tell them. Otherwise you're going to pass out right where you sit, a creepy clown leering over you the whole time. Maybe your fellow traveler will be nice enough to drag you out of there if that happens, because if you're left alone? Everybody knows clowns get so much scarier alone in the dark.
Notes:
1. What happens if you really do get ditched with the clowns? Great question. Maybe they make you one of them. Maybe they eat you. Maybe you just wake up in the Big Top dressing room and see all the clowns smoking cigars and taking their floppy shoes off to film Clown Foot Erotica.
Deadpool | Marvel et al | OTA
Deadpool wanders the carnival, enjoying himself immensely. Carnies, man, what's not to love? He plays the games and wins the prizes, because you can't scam someone like Deadpool who, in addition to being a highly skilled merc, is basically made of the kind of chaos carnies thrive on. If this was a casino, he'd probably be kicked out for being too lucky even if he wasn't demonstrably cheating. As is, at most some carny thugs might find him after and try to beat him up for taking them and their rigged games for a ride. ((If this is a thread that interests you, feel free to reply with your character seeing Deadpool attacked by rogue Carnies))
"TEST YOUR STRENGTH, PARDNER!!!"
"Well, don't mind if I do, Mr. Handlebar Moustache!!!"
He heads over to the mallet and hefts it, and then slams it down. The little ball moves barely an inch.
"NOT AS STRONG AS YOU THOUGHT, EH?"
Deadpool frowns at the mallet and the game. This was the one game that was besting him, but why? He was a pretty strong guy. No Hulk or anything but... He tries again. And again. And fails.
"THERE'S MORE THAN ONE KIND OF STRENGTH! WHO THINKS THEY HAVE WHAT IT TAKES??"
"Now wait, I'm not done yet..."
"Oh, I think you are," the Barker says, his voice dropping down to normal temporarily, just for Deadpool to hear (or your character, if you are close enough in line). "You have some working out to do. You've got the muscles, but inside, where it counts, your sense of self is weak. You aren't confident in who you are behind the mask."
For once, Deadpool is speechless.
II. Reflecting Pool
After the disconcerting encounter with the strength test, Deadpool decides to lose himself in a maze of mirrors. He wanders around inside the house of mirrors, gazing at a short, squat version of himself, a curvy version of himself, an extremely tall and thin version of himself, and everything in between. It elicits a few snickers from him, but mostly he's pretty distracted.
"Who says I'm not strong inside?"
He asks this of a mirror. Gradually, the mirrors have stopped showing him anything fun and have just been showing him...himself. Deadpool. In his full costume, which is different from what he's wearing now, but he hardly notices because he's used to seeing himself in full costume.
It's easy for him to miss what the mirrors are trying to tell him since he's just seeing himself. However, his partner in the maze will surely notice that his reflection is him in full spandex gear, while the man himself is just wearing his usual mask, jeans, and red and black fall flannel. He has yet to get another costume, and he'd blown his to bits on the first island.
Will you be the one to suggest to him that it's interesting that he doesn't see himself as anything more than Deadpool? That he seems to miss any depth behind the mask?
III. Cancer-cell (cw: cancer, dying)
"A rainbow unicorn? Fuck yes I want to ride that!!!"
After all, there are literal t-shirts of Deadpool riding just such a unicorn. Of course it would call out to him, demanding that he ride. And of course he lacks any kind of impulse control to not ride. But then, that's what carnivals are all about, yeah? Impulse control is the antithesis of a good carnival.
So he hops up on the unicorn, and the rides starts to move backwards.
"Hey, I think it's broken!!" The Carny just leans against the gate, looking at the machine and seeming not to care.
"Goddammit. Maybe he'll respond to full Karen," he mutters, and then shouts, "Hey asshole, I know you didn't need a college degree for this position or anything, but backwards is bad!! Forwards is good!!!"
But he can't say much more because a wave of nausea hits him. That's not something he's used to. It's all he can do to hold on from that point forward until it stops and he stumbles off the ride. Pain shoots through his midsection, and he wobbles off to the side and pulls his mask off to vomit into a bush.
"Jesus, I feel like shit..."
And that's when he notices that his arm looks normal. He pulls off his mask and looks into a reflective surface and with dawning horror, realizes that he has cancer. All his organs are riddled with it. He's going to die. There's no happy ending with Vanessa for him. This little outing at a carnival is probably his last bit of fun in this world, unless he signs his body over to some shady government group that's doing weird experiments in secret somewhere.
"I don't want to die," he whispers, leaning against the gate and trying (and failing) to catch his breath.
III. Cancer-cell
"I shouldn't have had that deep fried mars bar..." She mutters and stifles a burp, when she hears the unmistakable sound of someone throwing up near her she almost laughs and tells them that she understands their pain.
"I don't want to die..."
The words drift over to her, a small scared whisper and she looks up to see a man leaning against the gate, his posture that of someone who isn't just having a reaction to the Gravitron. She walks over and puts a tentative hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, are you okay?"
no subject
"I'm...I'm fine," he says, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. His Deadpool mask is forgotten in a pocket, just a peek of red poking out.
But he's definitely not fine. "I just...it's not a good day."
He looks over at the woman who thought to check on a stranger. The wild madness that defines Deadpool's gaze is gone - this is a normal merc named Wade Wilson who knows he's dying and yet is desperately clinging to any strand of hope that crazy government experiments can do something about it. And he's got a normal Ryan Reynolds face to go along with his normal cancer.
"Sorry," he wheezes, hating the sound of his voice but unable to summon much strength to do better. "It's a carnival! Don't let me bring your good time down. There's gotta be a clown that's more fun than me...and that's saying something, because clowns."
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"Did something happen?" She asks and motions for him to use her to lean on, "How about we sit down for a second? There's a bench over there."
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In all honesty, in this state a strong breeze probably would knock him over. But he's pretty good at deflecting. "Hey, are your eyes purple?"
When she offers herself as a crutch and nods to the bench, finds it hard to refuse. His eyes light upon the carny for just a moment as he adjusts to having assistance, and he swears he sees a little smirk as they move away from the carousel.
"Just, you know, thirty different kinds of cancer." What the fuck, right? It didn't matter if he talked about it or not. His life was over. "They stationed me in Flint, and I drank the water. Oops."
no subject
"Cancer? Fuck, seriously?" Her brows furrow and she rubs his back, trying to give some kind of comfort. "I'm really sorry to hear that...uh what's your name?"
no subject
There's no judgment in his voice. After all, he's on the precipice of calling a number on a card of a guy who promised to cure him of his cancer using experimental mutant DNA. As a mercenary, he'd worked with some mutants...and also been hired to go after a few. They were just people like anybody else.
"Yeah," he sits. "It's funny. You manage not to get killed in so many other ways you were just begging to get killed, and then the big C jumps up and stabs you in the lungs. And the pancreas. And the liver. And the lymph nodes."
He huffs a laugh. I'm Wade. But I guess not for long."
no subject
"Nice to meet you Wade, I'm Roxy." She says and gives him a curious look, "So you managed not to get killed by other ways? Are you like, a soldier or something?"
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cw: mention of mental abuse
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[cw: Rapid aging, decomposition, death]
cw: Rapid aging, decomposition, death
Re: cw: Rapid aging, decomposition, death...now with added dismemberment!
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ooc: I am from Canada so yes, this is extra hilarious.
XD AMAZING.
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ooc: Roxy does have a Tunnel of Love top level if you don't feel like doing one yourself
I
He reached out, his hand settling on Wade's arm. Just let him talk to you, guy. It's fine. This is all fine.
"Come on, I had an art project that might cheer you up.
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"No it is NOT. Ugh. I hate all the lessons these places keep trying to teach me."
Part of him wanted to...do something to the barker. He wasn't sure what, but something mean. Not kill him...he was once again making too many friends who weren't into that kind of thing but...
Then he glances over. "Oh hey!!! You're my buddy from the socials!! Did you know I'm an X-Factor now?" Although he didn't openly agree to the suggestion, he was turning to leave with David. The barker was already yelling for others to step right up and have their sense of self questioned.
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"Really? When did Jean-Paul make that decision?" David asked, because he might have sharp words for his boss for agreeing to that.
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Slowly but surely, however, he's coming to be used to the fact that he's not in control of everything right down to the narration that describes what's going on here. That doesn't mean he likes it though.
"Not by choice," he grates. Except...he kind of is, in that he was the character in his writer's head most eager to dive into this game. But games involve character arcs, and his arc here involves dealing with his control issues. And when one was used to knowing everything and breaking all of the fourth walls when everyone else around one was oblivious, that lead to some truly gnarly control issues.
"On the last island! I caught up to him in the market and yelled at him a bunch and might have implied you told me I could be an X-Factor and he relented and let me be one as long as I stopped bothering him. I think he might be making a new X-Factor, not to be confused with an All-New, All-Different X-Factor, to operate on these islands. And I mean, you've seen the islands. Wouldn't you agree that they kinda need a super hero team of some kind?"
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"Wade," David sighed, fingers coming up to his temples to rub at them. Why are you doing that to him? But he really didn't want to form a new X-Factor. He wanted to monopolize Jean-Paul's help to find his own answers.
"There's already the new X-Factor but okay, fine, whatever. Guess if people are actively setting out to use X-Factor for super heroics I'm back out."
no subject
As they walk and talk and Deadpool keeps an eye out for only the finest of junk food establishments, he shakes his head. Then he pauses and reaches out to touch David's shoulder.
"Oh man, I'm uh. I'm sorry to be the to tell you this, but your title was cancelled after just ten issues. I mean, you're getting to help with the Trial of Magneto and stuff, but...yeah. Right now, there is no X-Factor. The best we can do is build a new new X-Factor, together, as teammates. A new X-Factor unlike all of the other new X-Factors that have ever been, and there have been a lot. Does anybody even remember Strong Guy? Probably not. But I'll dribble out a little funnel cake for him and his terrible, terrible super hero handle. And we shall enjoy the rest of that funnel cake, together, as good teammates should. And that will be unfortunate later because like all good teams, we share one bathroom, and it'll get super awkward because we'll all need to tear it up at once, but we'll have to take turns."
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Bless you for being so bold as to take on BOTH of my ramblers at once.
I have power
Use it wisely!
Re: Use it wisely!
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III
"Wade?" She asks, ready to step in and offer additional physical support, but aware that he might not be up to touch at the moment. Whatever dirty trick the Carnival is pulling seemed to hit him hard.
cw: Cancer symptoms
"Ah, yeah, that's me. For now, anyway." He huffs a laugh. "If you're here because I killed a relative of yours, you're too late. The cancer's beaten you to your revenge. But for what it's worth, I'm sorry. Just trying to pay the mortgage, right?"
He coughs a little, which turns into a lot, and winces at the red in his palm.
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"You don't recognize me? How long have you been coughing up blood?" Look important questions come quickly enough, and she's posed to catch him if he starts to fall. He was there for her not that long ago, after all.
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"Oh, you know, a while. Months? Sometimes the Big C comes on fast, but it always likes to linger. But hey, maybe I'll be the guy to beat it. Got me a hot date with a shady AF government agency. I am 100% certain that will go well, and will not result in any problems or fuck me over at all."
Another bout of coughing does send him stumbling, but it's not too hard to catch him before he falls.
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"You should remember me." She pauses, still processing the rest of the story Wade is spinning. "Or, well, maybe not if you're Deadpool yet." Yes, Jen, that will make any kind of sense to him. It's a good thing she doesn't do time travel much. Whatever this is doesn't count. "Which means you aren't healing up anytime soon. We need to get you somewhere you can sit."
III. Cancer-cell
He half expected the retching noise to belong either to someone who over did it on the funnel cakes or just learned they suffer from motion sickness, but instead is a face he hasn't seen in an age.
"Take it easy, bub. That's not really something you need to be worried about."
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He huffs a bitter laugh at the words. This guy probably just thinks he's sick on carnival food. If only.
"The food here'll kill ya." He coughs up some blood and winces. "Literally. I blame the churros. Who can I sue here? The churros give you cancer. That has to be a sue-able offense, right?"
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"I dunno your whole life Wilson, but I don't think it was a churro. Or maybe it was... I wouldn't put it past you."
His lip curls unpleasantly and he takes a drag of his cigar again when the smell of whatever fair food Wade upchucked wafts uncomfortably close to him. "Let's get away from this until someone comes around with a bucket of sawdust, eh?" He swats Wade's back amiably. "What's up with you?"
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Oof. The amiable backslap is nice, but it also shoves his weak body around a little. It would be ouch, except when everything is ouch, one little ouch hardly stands out.
"Do I...know you?" He looks at Logan, confused and curious. "If so, I'm sorry, because you just became emotionally obligated to give a shit about me in my last cancer-ridden days. Sucks to be you."
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More deserving of his attention than fair food is the way Wilson wobbles under the weight of his hand.
"You don't recognize me? We uh... how should I put this. We worked together. Colleagues, I guess you could say." It sort of detours around a lot of complicated history involving the government, but it gets to the point, he figures.
"Whadda you mean your last days. Frankly, you're lookin' better than I seen you in an age." It's a relative sort of better though. Sure, he doesn't look like pre-chewed gum, but he does look a fair bit flimsier now that Logan thinks about it. "What happened to you? You get on this damned ride?"
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He just shakes his head as Logan tries to explain how he knows Wade. That's not ringing any bells. Yeah, being in the military and then bouncing around mercenary companies meant he'd seen and worked with a whole lot of faces, but somehow he thought he would remember those epic mutton chops, or the way that hair came to two little devil points over the man's head. Seriously, that was a very distinctive hair style.
"Better? You call this better?" His tone is somewhat incredulous. "Man, I'm so wasted from chemo that I somehow managed to forget your Cowboy Bebop mug." When Logan asks about it, he frowns and glances at the carousel. "I...I uh...huh. I remember getting off of it, but not getting on."