[M] A Gloomy Town

[Deadpool]

”Adventure time,” he replied, easing his grip on the katana; it slid back into the sheath with another raspy whistle, and ching’d!!! shut. ”Before you decided to go rogue on me, I was gonna say I was kidding. I’m just gonna hold onto the phone for you, since you don’t exactly have any pockets.” He removed his hand from near the blade and looked at if for a moment—Lol! Baron just made a reference from the MiniChat he got temp-banned from, but he just used it in the exact form argued against him—before letting it fall back to his side. The blood that had pooled in his palm earlier was now nothing more than a dry oasis of sprawling cracks.

“I can’t do that,” Gingy replied, bluntly. “I need my phone. I got my own adventures to do.”

”I’ma go with you, silly.” Thoughts of him being paired with a living, breathing gingerbread made his cheeks rise with glee—oh, the possibilities!

“My adventures are sort of solo.”

The outline of a smirk visualized onto Deadpool’s mask.”I saved your life, so you owe me.” he replied, matter-of-factly.

Gingy took a moment to think.

Again, using that word in the same way that was argued against you

“Can you stop talking to yourself? God.” Gingy interjected. “Fine, we can pair up, for adventures. So we’re just gonna act like our little scuffle never happened?”

”I tend to overlook many fights,” Deadpool replied. “What’s going to be hard to over look is your lack of social skills. So much so that the going is italicized, like your text was.”

“And this is coming from the guy that talks nonsense fifty percent of the time, and talks to himself, right?” The pastry snickered, then reached his hand out again for the staff, but quickly paused. “I’m not gonna try to attack you. I’m just retrieving it. Cool?”

Deadpool answered with a nod. ”You’re gonna need it for the Pale Moors. This place looks rich in Omnilium.”

“Riight,” Gingy replied longwindedly. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and then said, “I got no plans of staying here. Dracula’s got a nice grip on parts of the Moors; you got Diablo’s armies somewhere; and not the mention, all the random shit that litters the verse, in general. This place is fucked.”

The mercenary giggled—everything the gingerbread said he knew already—and then whipped his head back to the window. ”I know, that’s why I wanna see wassup with this place.” Dracula, Diablo, random shit; it all sounded like sweet, sweet music to the mercenary’s ears.

Gingy just hanged his head and sighed. “This place can drive you crazy, Deadpool.”

Well, you already think I’m insane, so we should be good.