I. Be veeewwy veewwwy quiet, I'm hunting Temple Gawdi-
II. The Maskorade has ALL THE ELECTROLYTES YOU NEED, BABY!!
WELP. Prompt numero uno didn't last very long at all. Deadpool didn't even get through his terribly clever title for it before he fell unconscious when one of the little buggers turned towards him and looked at him with its creepy blank face. He swore to himself and grabbed a drink from a passing fancy waiter type person. Was he back in the orgy?
"I bet I'm the first person to ever not make it through a prompt title. Starting this game off RIGHT."
With a smirk, he lifts the glass to his lips and it dribbles all around...rubber lips that are in front of his lips? He sporfles and sputters and swears as it runs between rubber and skin. Heedless of where it goes or who it hits, he throws the glass away and gropes at his face, feeling only rubber.
"What the red white and blue Anthony Mackie fuck?!? I need something reflective now! Gimme gimme." And he yanks the serving platter away from a very startled waiter, sending drinks flying. At least one of the drinks spilled in this thread likely ruin your fancy party attire, dear responder. As he looks at his reflection, he just starts to laugh.
For you see, what he sees is a very lifelike rubber Ryan Reynolds mask.
Tell a secret to get rid of it, you say? This is a man that won't be telling anyone anything remotely true all night.
IV. Well, at least not until after midnight, when he finds himself in the...Lost and Found Carcosa
"Fancy meeting you here, babe," he says, running a gloved hand fondling over the skull as they both stare out to sea. "But I guess it doesn't matter where I find myself, you'll always be there."
He sighs, and runs a hand back through the hair that has become "real" for the month. Was it just a bit rubbery? Meh. He'd still scored something far better than anyone else who had to tell a secret to ditch the mask. How many of them even realized what they were giving up? Maybe they all thought they were prettier on the flip side of the mask. He knew he wasn't. Wade would keep his Ryan Reynolds face, thankyouverymuch.
"Just not for me," he adds quietly. "Not even here. I tried to get them to kill me earlier, but they stuck me in a party where I scored this sweet gin soaked face. It's like they want me to stick around, for some reason. Dunno why. Nobody actually wants me. Not even you."
He frowns, as if that train of thought went a little bit too far for what he'd expected to say out loud. "You got me feeling a little emo tonight, babe. Our relationship isn't supposed to be about the angsty poetry all he wangsty teens write about you. Let's talk more about why you so bedazzled tonight. Does the pelvis match the skull, hot stuff?"
Deadpool watches the incoming tide of zombos, and honestly he probably doesn't mind if they drag him back with them when the ebb. After all, it's just his lady love reaching out to finally draw him into her lasting embrace.
Deadpool | Marvel Whatever U Like | OTAlllll the cool peeps
II. The Maskorade has ALL THE ELECTROLYTES YOU NEED, BABY!!
WELP. Prompt numero uno didn't last very long at all. Deadpool didn't even get through his terribly clever title for it before he fell unconscious when one of the little buggers turned towards him and looked at him with its creepy blank face. He swore to himself and grabbed a drink from a passing fancy waiter type person. Was he back in the orgy?
"I bet I'm the first person to ever not make it through a prompt title. Starting this game off RIGHT."
With a smirk, he lifts the glass to his lips and it dribbles all around...rubber lips that are in front of his lips? He sporfles and sputters and swears as it runs between rubber and skin. Heedless of where it goes or who it hits, he throws the glass away and gropes at his face, feeling only rubber.
"What the red white and blue Anthony Mackie fuck?!? I need something reflective now! Gimme gimme." And he yanks the serving platter away from a very startled waiter, sending drinks flying. At least one of the drinks spilled in this thread likely ruin your fancy party attire, dear responder. As he looks at his reflection, he just starts to laugh.
For you see, what he sees is a very lifelike rubber Ryan Reynolds mask.
Tell a secret to get rid of it, you say? This is a man that won't be telling anyone anything remotely true all night.
IV. Well, at least not until after midnight, when he finds himself in the...Lost and Found Carcosa
"Fancy meeting you here, babe," he says, running a gloved hand fondling over the skull as they both stare out to sea. "But I guess it doesn't matter where I find myself, you'll always be there."
He sighs, and runs a hand back through the hair that has become "real" for the month. Was it just a bit rubbery? Meh. He'd still scored something far better than anyone else who had to tell a secret to ditch the mask. How many of them even realized what they were giving up? Maybe they all thought they were prettier on the flip side of the mask. He knew he wasn't. Wade would keep his Ryan Reynolds face, thankyouverymuch.
"Just not for me," he adds quietly. "Not even here. I tried to get them to kill me earlier, but they stuck me in a party where I scored this sweet gin soaked face. It's like they want me to stick around, for some reason. Dunno why. Nobody actually wants me. Not even you."
He frowns, as if that train of thought went a little bit too far for what he'd expected to say out loud. "You got me feeling a little emo tonight, babe. Our relationship isn't supposed to be about the angsty poetry all he wangsty teens write about you. Let's talk more about why you so bedazzled tonight. Does the pelvis match the skull, hot stuff?"
Deadpool watches the incoming tide of zombos, and honestly he probably doesn't mind if they drag him back with them when the ebb. After all, it's just his lady love reaching out to finally draw him into her lasting embrace.