ishotyouuu | Inbox

[Eventually, Travis drags his ass home.

It's late enough that a stillness lies over the entire city: all food and festivity put away till the morning, the neon lights of Sumarlok's buildings flickering and glowing quietly in the night air. His keycard slides through the lock. He slips inside, closing the door behind him with care-- sure, his roommate's probably asleep by now, but Travis can't deal with anybody, much less Oscar, seeing him crawl home to lick his wounds. Shoes kicked off; soggy, pigment-stained jacket hung aside to deal with later.

In the dark of that apartment, Travis finally breathes out, and all of a sudden his exhaustion comes crashing down like the tail end of a bad high. He feels pathetic. Everything fucking aches. The ugly early hues of bruises crawl their way through the remaining splashes of powder coloring his skin; the memory of that fight, too, is its own bruise upon his ego. After all, it hadn't just been the powder, even if it had make him look like a giant asshole. He might've gone after Deadpool without it. Somewhere inside Travis, hungry and waiting, is always himself-- still young and still stupid, an animal urge still craving the taste of blood after all this time. So he'd gone and gotten his ass kicked and made a damn fool of himself, and for what? A hit of adrenaline, dopamine? Wanting somebody's hands on him?

And why the hell is his heart pounding?

Travis pulls his shirt over his head and moves to the bathroom in silence.]

[fake cut for discretion]

Edited 2021-03-14 15:43 (UTC)

[It takes a few days for Travis to swallow his pride enough to reach out, because holy SHIT he feels so fucking weird about (gesticulates wildly) ALL OF THIS.

but it's in the spirit of forgiveness, rrrright? right. whatever the locals say this festival is about.]

yo, i took an educated guess on the username
i owe you an explanation but i think i owe you a drink more.

[It really says something about Wade's shitty memory and the amount of craziness that's happened to him over the course of a few days--he still hasn't gotten used to seeing his handsome, unblemished face every time he walks by a mirror-- that the handle of the person texting him is completely unfamiliar to him.

Still, whoever it is is offering him free drinks, so might as well play along.]

always good 2 know where the local watering holes are

i warn u tho im not a cheap date ;D

[FUCK OFFFFFFFFFF DONT FLIRT WITH HIM!!!!!!!

Travis has no idea WHAT this is supposed to mean (AREN'T YOU MAD?!?!?! HE WAS SUCH A DOUCHEBAG) so he's just. going to text wade the address of an open-air pub in the less sketchy section of ruby, and a time, and deal with it when he sees him.]

[The downside to living in a city right out of an H.G. Wells novel is that there's a distinct lack of modern casualwear. Wade has made do with the meager wardrobe whatever passes for the government here has deigned to issue him, hoping that the simple waistcoat and slacks ensemble is appropriate enough for an average night of drinking.

It's not hard to find the pub from his apartment, and he makes it there in relatively good time. It suddenly occurs to him that he has no idea what the person who texted him even looks like-- and as soon as he has that realization, he sees a familiar face standing outside of the building. Wade makes his way over to him, already smirking.]

Geez, I feel like I look like the Willy Wonka of Best Buy. Where's the nearest steampunk LARP, good sir?

Edited 2021-03-18 00:14 (UTC)

[After the nonsense of the last week, all the clothes he'd come with in are necessarily in the wash. Fortunately he's managed to scrounge up something casual-- a plain white Henley, a pair of jeans meant more for a laborer than a guy from 2019. Anything more formal than that would've made him feel even more uncomfortable about this entire encounter; he should at least not feel dressed up like a clown if he's got to apologize.

Thank god Wade's here to lighten the mood.]

They got cons here? Color me surprised.

[It's strange. He feels like he's crossed a major line with Wade, and yet here he is-- casual as ever, like they're just two pals out for a night of drinking. Out of the suit, he could be anybody, apart from the whole off-brand Ryan Reynolds thing.

That was... always that way, wasn't it? Wasn't there some kinda scar thing with Deadpool, or something?] Let's grab a table, though...

[He leads the two of them into the pub. It's covered and private, enough out of the way that the place is largely unoccupied, but not enough to be skeevy: the air's more like stepping into a friendly dive bar than the doom and gloom of their last visit to the Ruby Underground.

He starts as soon as they sit down. Better not to waste time.]

Let me start over: I'm Travis. I really was looking for a fight the other day, but I shouldn't have just lost my shit at you. They put some weird stuff in that powder they were throwing around at the festival-- felt like I was drugged or something.

[Good thing dive bars still exist in this weird-ass 80s glam reality. Wade takes a moment to get an eyeful of the place as Travis leads him to an empty table-- it's a little more neon than what he's used to, but the ambiance and the clientele is about right. Reminds him of those little hole-in-the-wall places he used to frequent back home-- the ones with cutesy names like The Dirty Habit or Lost Weekend or Threadbare Excuse.

He's brought back to the present when Travis starts his apology, and for a second it should be very obvious from Wade's expression that he has no idea what this dude is talking about.]

Uhhh... sorry, was I supposed to be mad at that, or something? If anything, you should be the one who's butthurt-- pretty sure I handed you your ass on a platter back there.

[He flashes him a grin.]

Nah, I'm just messin'-- you weren't half bad. Kinda made it feel more like home. Plus it was fun fightin' someone with a healthy love of bloodshed, I gotta say. Which I'm gonna blame on the... drugs, I'm guessing? The fuck kinda place just tosses around psychotropic powder like that?

[Probably a place similar to the one you were just plucked from, Wade.]

[Nooooo, don't bust his balls... Travis can't help but look a little flustered.]

C'mon, man, cut me some slack! I'm swallowing my pride as is, calling you out here... [He rubs a hand over his face, his fingers sliding behind his sunglasses to rub at his eyes. At least Wade doesn't seem annoyed, or ready to pass judgment on him. He could handle it if he'd been a tool on purpose, sure, but not while he was out of character.] I looked like a total fuckhead out there, you deserve a real spar: one where I'm not high as a damn kite.

But, uh. [He's peeking out from behind his hand, which slowly slides down to his chin.] The bloodlust was all me. I'm indie, so you probably don't recognize who I am, but I sure as fuck know you. Sorta surprised nobody pulled this particular crossover sooner.

[There's something bewildering and almost endearing about a man dressed like a rummage sale greaser looking all self-conscious and bashful. Wade's grin grows a little more mischievous, his eyes sparking with amusement.]

Well, not a total fuckhead. Maybe just a little bit of a fuckhead. Like... the skim milk equivalent.

[His eyes unfocus as he attempts to recall whether or not he's heard of this guy before, but finally shakes his head and shrugs as his memory banks come up empty.]

Sorry, "Travis" ain't ringin' a bell. You're from one of those Japanese games, right? You got the look.

[You know, the "so American it must be a parody" look.]

I can handle skim milk fuckhead. [A shy, sheepish smile.]

And yeah, I am. Travis Touchdown... No More Heroes. Nowhere near as big name as Deadpool. I'm kinda glad you haven't heard of me, to be honest: I get to keep my cult classic cred.

[It could always be worse. His name could be two random non-name English words, so he's at least grateful Suda loved Western cinema enough to name him after a film protag.]

At any rate: I'm a hitman too, fresh off-- let's call it a sabbatical. As soon as powder-stoned me smelled that blood on you, my instincts took over, and what happened, well, happened.

Travis... Touchdown? Really?

[Wade supposes it isn't any dumber than Logan Howlett. Or... wait, wasn't he known as James Howlett once upon a time? Comic book lore is so confusing.]

In any case, your instincts might've helped in making what was shapin' up to be a pretty boring night a lot more interesting, so... thanks for that? That was some pretty fancy fighting, I gotta admit. An' where'd you get the lightsaber knockoffs? Those can't have been sanctioned by George Lucas.

[Then again, Lucas wasn't immune to making terrible decisions-- Jar Jar Binks being a prime example.]

You don't get to judge, Mr. Amecomi.

[DON'T JUST SAY 'AMECOMI' LIKE THAT, WEEB.]

Edited 2021-04-26 18:35 (UTC)

I... guess it's all's well that ends well. Even if I'd much rather have had my head on straight. You weren't so bad yourself, Deadpool.

[Guess beggars can't be choosers when it comes to a good tussle. Thanks for being such a good sport, Wade.]

One, parody laws; two, I got a tech-lady who souped up a prototype I bought off an auction online. You won't believe the shit you find on Ebay.

Oh, no shit-- you have a resident techie too? Not sure if mine's even figured out that I'm gone yet. Probably too busy racking up the Cinemax bill. Friggin' freeloader.

[Wade you LITERALLY KIDNAPPED HIM FROM THE PAST--]

So I'm assuming that was bought with pay from your first contract or somethin'? Or did you just decide to buy an authentic lightsaber as your signature weapon for shits and giggles?

Yep. Been a bit since I've seen her, though... real no-nonsense type. Hated my guts, loved my weapons. [Great rack, though.]

Um... [Well... y-yeah.] Hey, there's some good shit on Ebay, y'know? It was a pretty good deal if I do say so myself.

[Wade grins at that.]

Hey, she's got good taste. I'm something of a connoisseur of edged weapons myself, and I gotta admit that thing is pretty sexy. Nerdiness aside, I mean. Almost wanna see how she'd perform in my hands, know what I mean?

[It's at that point that the waitress comes over to take their order. Wade quickly peruses the menu behind the bar and, seeing a name jump out of him, orders a Smoking Gun.]

You're buyin' this round, right Trav? How 'bout we add a plate of wings to that? All this talk about fightin' and weapons is makin' me kinda peckish.

Maybe in a little while I'll let you take a spin. So long as you promise to be gentle.

[Who can say whether that's the protagonist banter or real flirting. Wrow. At any rate, Travis is going for a plain ol' gimlet -- he's gotten real into gin lately.]

Why not. You heard the guy, let's get an appetizer going too. [He winks at the waitress; she grins, scribbles down their order, and heads off.]

Heh. I dunno-- somethin' tells me your lady might enjoy a little roughness. Can't promise I'll always be gentle, but I'll do my best to be sweet.

[Wade raises his eyebrows and nods in silent approval at Travis's selection-- he also has grown to enjoy a nice gin, and not just because his actor is now a spokesperson for one of them-- and leans back in his chair to wait for his order.]

So! Why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself, Mr. Touchdown? In a non-meta sense, I mean. What do you get up to when you're not randomly picking fights with strangers?

[That... doesn't leave a whole lot left, Wade.]

[he chuckles--] Hey, she's a tough gal, but she appreciates it.

[It's been a little while since he's had to really introduce himself like this. Largely, his reputation tends to precede him-- assassin of legend, famed jerkass gamer-- but often people just... don't really ask. Travis shrugs.]

I'm a pretty simple guy, work aside. I'm real into games and anime and stuff. Fell sorta off the pro-wrestling boat when I didn't have cable for a while [TOUGH TO GET WHEN YOU'RE IN THE FOREST...] but that's a big one too. Before I got here I'd been moving around a lot-- you know, keeping a low profile-- so I've been having a lot of fun just working on my bike and letting the road take me places.

Sounds kinda like my life back home. Pretty sure I got safehouses in all fifty states. Pay out the ass in HOA taxes, lemme tell you.

[It's about this time that the waitress returns with their drinks and their appetizer platter, and Wade flashes her his most winning smile in thanks before taking one of the wings off of the plate.]

Wouldn't trade it for the world, though. Traveling to interesting locales, killing high-rolling douchebags and getting paid for it? Only way to fly, in my opinion. You just can't get that sort of thing in an office job.

[He takes a bite of the chicken wing.]

Mph. Oh yeah, there we go. That's the shit right there. Might wanna get some before I eat this whole plate, Trav.

[Travis relates to absolutely none of what Wade has just said. Not in the least.

He's under no illusions: he knows just how badly he'd been getting fleeced by his "handler" in the early years of his career. Hearing the actual lived experience of another killer, though-- none of the bullshit spectacle of the above-ground, someone who'd always been in on the deepest levels of their line of business-- sets the distance between them in a relief so stark he can almost feel the whiplash. He's got the trailer, a manor he'd "inherited" from Death Metal, the same old motel room, and his bike. None of the life of globetrotting and luxury that Wade seems to hint at. For a second he craves it jealously, thrown all the way back to his hungry 27-year-old self: all that Travis had wanted was that life of ease and luxury. In the blink of an eye a decade of his life returns, and the thought of paying fuckin' taxes on safehouses just makes him feel exhausted.

The thoughts dig into him, little feline claws sinking under his skin. Maybe this is the actual midlife crisis: feeling like you've burned out before you really even had the chance to get started.]

Huh? [Food, thank God. Food is the great equalizer. The wings knock him out of his reverie long enough to grab a flat.] Yeah, lemme get one of those.

[He tears into it; it is, of course, delicious. Everything he's eaten here has been.]

Well, I did say I was taking a break before I got here. I've had a few good matchups in the last few months, but none of it was for cash... just getting some stuff squared up before I can get back to doing what I do best.

[The killing. The heart of the life they lead, at least, will always make sense.]

[Luckily for Travis, Wade doesn't notice the existential crisis the other man is going through right now. He's more focused on looking at this world and its denizens, doing a bit of mild people watching as he samples the bar's (admittedly delectable) food and drink.

It's the most normal he's felt since arriving here, although maybe it's the company he's currently with. Having a fellow assassin to compare notes does give him a bit of normalcy. He supposes that'd be strange to someone who hasn't had the life they've had.]

Hey, no judgments here. Sometimes you need to take a break. What's some of the stuff you're gettin' squared up, by the way? Probably gonna have to look into making some extra spending cash myself.

Edited 2021-05-28 00:24 (UTC)

Ah, it's nothing like that... a lot of personal business, you know. Some scores I needed to settle. Had to throw some dickheads off my trail, too.

[And, ideally, off his family's trail...]

Typical spin-off stuff. It's gonna be right back to work when I get home. Whenever I get home, anyway.

Spin-offs, huh? I know what that's like. Once had a stint where I had to deal with a zombie apocalypse, that was fun.

[...You mean the one-shot where every single superhero died except you? Yeah, that was a barrel of laughs. Almost as fun as that one where you killed everyone.]

What're you doin' to pass the time here, though? Again, aside from picking fights on the street and getting your ass handed to you.

Damn. Brutal.

[UNFORTUNATELY, he's not the twin who likes Marvel... so that just sounds like fun times to him.]

Hey, I just got here too. I barely know where anything is yet, minus the nearest convenience store and the arcade. I'll give you an answer when I've got an answer.

[Brutal is definitely the word for it-- felt like he was moving through a world of black and white most of the time. Wade's expression brightens at the mention of the arcade.]

Well, at least they've got entertainment here. Good to know I can fall back on Skee-Ball if things get too hectic. Ever try it? Draws way less of a crowd than just randomly attacking people.

[He flashes Travis a cheeky wink. It's gonna be a while before he lets him live this one down.]

Okay, now you're just rubbing it in.

[Skee-ball? Really?]

I haven't played that since I was, like, a teen. I was paying more attention to all the video games, but I bet they've got something like that over there. Everybody likes puttin' balls in holes.

yo wade
hope you're still in one piece after whatever yesterday was
i have a question for you

lol yesterday was nuts

didnt think controlled substances affected me anymore but boy was i proven wrong

whats up

i dont have powers or anything so holy SHIT i am hung over rn

anyway: take a look at your hand for me
you see anything on one of your fingers?

oh yeah i was gonna ask u

did u also wake up w/ a weird ass string attached 2 ur finger coz that sure is a thing i woke up 2

jfc
this is some anime bullshit cuz

yeah i did

what are the chances we’re connected lol

[don’t offset that with a “lol” you KNOW what this trope is!!]

Edited 2021-06-16 15:19 (UTC)

thatd be a long fuckin string then

some arts and crafts store here mustve had a sale on red yarn or smth

[Enlighten him, Travis-- he has little to no knowledge of anime tropes.]

nah not like that
it’s a magic thing

the people who are connected by the red string are destined to meet
or at least that’s how it works in anime

uhhhhh

we already met tho???

maybe that means were not attached then? idk how this works im not a weeb

that doesn’t matter the string might still think we’re ~destined~ for us to meet again for whatever reason]

[and that sounds weird enough so he is NOT gonna talk about the true love part]

listen where are u
i want to check whether or not it’s you
if im wrong we can all laugh about it

tf

i mean of course were gonna meet again

were friends rite

that being said wanna meet somewhere 4 breakfast?

or lunch?

idek what time it fuckin is

i... think its lunch
lets say its lunch
brunch??? breakfast for lunch? whatever

[he texts wade the address of a quaint little diner somewhere in the emerald district.]

[Less than ten minutes later, Wade can be seen approaching the diner in question with all the poise and energy of a high school burnout attending an 8 am physics class. It's not exactly an uncommon thing not to recollect what he got up to the night before-- ADHD more or less makes that an everyday occurrence-- but that doesn't make it any less disorienting when it happens. Once inside, he glances around for Travis, waving at the man when he finally spots him, the red string dangling conspicuously from one finger.

Wade slides into the booth across from Travis with a sigh.]

You look like I feel, pal. Least I didn't wake up usin' a urinal cake as a pillow this time.

Sooo youre in my contacts, this is wade right?

Poll:
1. Are you currently an adult or are you my age
2. If you aren’t a weird adult can I come over? my old man self has this scary lady roommate and i don’t wanna deal with her

[“mean lady” meaning oscar… but he doesn’t know that yet]

Inbox - noctiumrp

SMASHES CHAMPAGNE BOTTLE OVER THIS INBOX!! (not-here action 1/2)

2/2 ❤️

text; un: travis.touchdown

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/2

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

NOW YOU'VE DONE IT

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

text; un: travis.touchdown

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

text; un: SDWARRIOR51