[inbox] - meadowlark

[ishotyouuu]

@wade.wilson | ■ ▲ ◌ ▼

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[rehandle]

[ There's a difference between this conversation and the one he's having with Nate. Maybe it's the tone, or the unique compositions of their shared histories.

Maybe there's just no dignified or meaningful way to respond to you fucked my brain-box harder than a game of Jenga on Cialis and I snapped your neck in writing. Whatever it is, rather than maintain the distance of text, he opens a line to start a call.

He'd still rather have the conversation in person than via technology. But he seems to have already insulted enough friends today to get the message that it might be time to try a different medium. ]

[ishotyouuu]

[Wade picks up in about two seconds, his voice smug.]

There's a boy. For a second there I thought maybe you somehow lost your ability to speak. That'd be a real tragedy, yeah?

[rehandle]

Sure.

[ It's dry, because he's perfectly certain there are plenty of people who'd be glad for the peace and quiet. ]

How are you, Wade?

[ishotyouuu]

Eh, can't complain. I mean I can, but nobody's probably gonna listen, so why bother? Besides, it's not every day you go from being one of the city's golden children to bein' essentially a social leper, y'know?

Don't feel as homesick as I used to, now.

[rehandle]

Well, that's something.

[ And really not at all what either of them are here to discuss, or he might spend a little more time digging into Wade's wellbeing. As it is... ]

If you want to talk about our time in the Aerie I'd rather do it in person. When you're ready.

[ishotyouuu]

You got time now? I'm always up for an awkward conversation. You marinate in it long enough and the discomfort is almost orgasmic.

[rehandle]

Wade. If we're going to have this conversation I'll need to be able to take it as seriously and I'm sure you will be.

[ There's a limit to what he can navigate at the moment, the last twenty minutes of messy exchanges have proved that. Wade being - Wade, is currently a little outside of that limit.

It's not a criticism, just a statement of terms. He's not owed anything, but he has just as much right to protect his boundaries as anyone else, whether or not he violated theirs first in another world. ]

[ishotyouuu]

[A dramatic, theatrical sigh.]

Always gotta piss in my Cheerios, eh Doc? Fine, we can do this the boring way. You got a place in mind to meet or...?

[He's not any happier about this than you are, Strange.]

[rehandle]

We can meet at my old apartment. I'll send you the address.

[ And he does, a GPS pin drop to a block in a decent area of town and an apartment number to head for once he gets there. ]

I can be there in an hour.

[ishotyouuu]

Got it. See you then.

[It takes him a while to get there-- Strange lives a good bit away from Wade's own modest apartment and he's sidetracked for a good ten minutes or so by a new falafel stand on the way. What better way to wash down a bitter conversation than with some quality street food, right?

He's still idly munching on the sandwich once he reaches the district that the GPS indicates, and it's not hard to find Strange's old apartment from there. With any luck, Strange won't have been waiting long.]

[rehandle]

[ He hasn't been - waiting long, that is. He buzzes Wade up on arrival, and opens the apartment door to welcome him into his totally barren apartment with as incautious a "hi" as he can muster. It's got the air of a showhome gone stale: staple bits of furniture remain neatly arranged in the few rooms, but none of it shows any sign of life.

It's not been often populated enough to even have generated much dust in his absence.

Tilting his head he invites Wade through into the lounge area, where a couch, armchair and coffee table straight out of a brochure wait to greet them. ]

Do you want anything to drink?

[ He'd had the foresight to at least pack a little collection of options: sodas, tea he'd made up at home, just in case they'd prefer some pleasantries with their potentially unpleasantries. ]