(no subject)

[magus_majere]

"Massster..." this came from a disembodied head floating in front of Raistlin's desk. The archmagus didn't look up immediately, busy scratching writing onto a piece of flattened parchment, the quill in his thin golden fingers practically vibrating with the speed of his notes.

Genessia was a land of fascinating marvels. He'd be sure not to forget a single one.

"Masssster pleasssse," the head tried a second time.

Finally, Raistlin glanced up, impatient at the interruption. "What?"

"Therrrre is an intruderrr in the Grrove."

That. That was interesting, and Raistlin's hand finally stilled. "In the Grove, you say?"

"Yesssss. The defenderrrssss have not been able to kill it..."

Extremely interesting. Something from Genessia, no doubt, nothing else would make sense. The blackrobe dabbed the last of the ink off the feather quill onto a pad and set the instrument aside, and then took the time to carefully close up the inkwell. This could take a while.

And so it was that whatever this stranger was doing, he suddenly wasn't the only living creature in the dark, ancient grove. Raistlin lurked in the deepest shadows, silently watching.

Comments

[sharpeinolds]

No indeed, the defenders had not been able to kill him. Not for lack of trying, of course. How could he not immediately veer towards the creepy, horrifying, 'don't go in here what is wrong with you literally every sense you have is telling you to not do the thing' woods? Not when one had a death wish as powerful as the one harbored by Wade fucking Wilson.

Now, granted, he did die. The problem was it really wasn't taking as well as it... normally would with literally anything else. He'd go down. It was the staying down that wasn't happening.

To be fair though, these were some scary fucking woods. He'd probably still made it further than most people would have, but in any normal, non haunted, non cursed woods, his distance from the outskirts of the grove to where he was now wasn't that impressive. He had, in fact, kept daring himself to keep going a little further, every time his lungs refilled themselves and his brain woke his legs up again. There were probably more than a few vindictively punted undead heads around here from when he'd gotten exceptionally salty about a particular take down.

But by the time Raistlin would get to him, he'd have reached a point of no progression. Currently no progression, he was telling himself, of course. But at this current moment, he'd backed off from his completely stupid, arbitrary choice to stomp through a cursed forest to sit down on a stump and have a jarringly calm conversation with a moldering skull.

"I'm trying not to get upset here, I think between the two of us, I've been the most reasonable. I haven't kicked you yet, and all I- stop screaming, all I want is an apology for death number seven. I'm basically eighty five percent sure that one was you."

[magus_majere]

Naturally, the conversation was extremely one-sided. And Raistlin didn't join in -- he didn't speak, nor move, until after the strangely-dressed stranger had crumpled to the ground again with three skeletal phantasm hands locked onto a leather-clad ankle.

And yet...

When Wade next had his senses about him, he'd find himself towered over by the blackrobe, Raistlin leaning heavily against his staff watching the stranger resuscitate himself with rapt attention.

"Fascinating."

[sharpeinolds]

"Fuckin-" DOWN. Which death was this one? Seven was two ago, was this ten? Ten or nine? The things a dying brain puzzled over were just amazing, wasn't it? Beautiful.

Once more, he'd not be out for long, jerking sharply as his heart began to beat once more, hammering frantically in his chest the way it'd been going since he got into this stupid fucking woods. No he didn't have to be in here, this was self imposed torture but shut up.

Also-

"... Well you're not Grandma Wilson." Which meant, not dead. Well shit.

"Gimme a... sec, I just... gotta get up and... Ten heart attacks in a row is my limit I just-" Alright no never mind, legs haven't turned back on yet. With a grunt, he gives up trying to get back to his feet, flopping back into the dirt to stare up at Raistlin.

"So uh... Are these your haunted woods? Very lush, the gibbering shrieking ghost heads are a nice touch."

[magus_majere]

A single, rather elegant gesture with one bony, golden-skinned hand, and the undead defenders of the Grove essentially vanished into thin air.

No arguing from them!

"I am the master of this place," Raistlin's voice was a perpetual raspy whisper, which surely helped the general ambiance of the Grove by leaps and bounds. His eyes, glossy and golden and shaped wrong, remained fixed on Wade through-out, seemingly unblinking from beneath his large hood.

Shadows on shadows.

"How are you yet living?" If the stranger was undead, then the defenders wouldn't be bothering to drain the life from him. Yet, here we are.

[sharpeinolds]

"Soooo that's a yes? I played Dungeons and Dragons, I know the lingo. Sweet crib, man." Oh now the dead fucks go away. Grand, he could have used the personal space ten deaths ago.

This wouldn't be the first time he'd looked at someone radically different than the norm. All things considered, compared to Colossus, the Juggernaught, and a good chunk of the rest of the X-Men, gold skin and hourglass eyes weren't too strange. At least he was normal human sized, that was a bonus.

"Hey, I'm fine, thanks for asking. Feel great, absolutely don't actually have several brain clots I'm working on dissolving right now, and how are you?"

[sharpeinolds]

Oh like he'd be gone forever.

No, it wasn't even a full week, and there'd be a lot of fucking noise outside of the grove. Any ghostly looking asshole was going to find themselves having to dodge rocks, sticks, and the occasional bullet, the mercenary pacing about just outside the edge of the grove itself.

He knows better now. Not better enough to not come back, but at least he wasn't about to charge through the forest again. He's not that dumb.

"HEY.

HEY RAISTLIN.

HEY. HEEEEEEY. HAAAAAAAAAAYYYYY. LEMME IIIIIIIN.

I BROUGHT STUUUUUUFF."

[magus_majere]

Throwing and shooting things just went through any ghosts that were 'hit', but after a few long minutes of this going on, the whole lot of them suddenly stopped showing up.

And there was the spooky mage himself, hood up as before, standing in the edge of the dark woods. He hadn't walked here, but teleportation wasn't likely to be a surprise now.

"You returned."

[sharpeinolds]

There he was! The gun was immediately put away of course, the merc looking very proud of himself.

"Uh yeah, I said I was coming back. I brought you stuff." There's a plastic baggie yanked from a pouch, the various types of rounds inside jangled about for a moment.

"Got some other shit here too." Look, he knows he has to make spending time with him worth it, he knows how this game goes.

[magus_majere]

Raistlin shook his head at that, "It bears repeating; you are quite strange."

Honestly. Not even a week?

"Come along, then."

[sharpeinolds]

HE LIKES YOU. And yes, without having to be told, he does in fact take Raistlin's arm again. Already having processed this as totally normal and fine.

"Yeah, you're great too."

FRANDS.

[magus_majere]

There was no real warning for this. Raistlin hadn't mentioned that he could find Wade fairly easily in any of the archways or subarchways of Genessia, and all from the security of his tower.

Someone -- a glazed-eyed boy, nondescript -- pounded on the door to Wade's apartment and then took off, leaving behind a piece of thick parchment with Raistlin's sharp, angular handwriting in fresh ink.

I am ready for our first attempt.

Bring an extra set of clothing.

-R

Well that wasn't ominous, was it? Any of it?

[sharpeinolds]

He was about to try and text Raistlin, after he got that message (which was definitely not creepy, nor ominous at all), to ask him bro why the fuck didn't you text me.

Only to remember three quarters of the way through the reply, that... Raistlin's phone... was toasted. Oh yeah. Oh well. The message was deleted.

Tannusen however would be getting a dick pic. He didn't want to take his phone out for no goddamn reason, he spent all that time typing with one hand, this would not be wasted.

In any case, eventually, there Wade would be, marching through the woods, hurling rocks at whatever ghosts he could see, and heading right towards the tower. If not stopped otherwise, he'd in fact, just try to walk right in because friends now and he was invited. No mask, no leather suit. Just a shirt, hoodie, jeans and sneakers, a backpack slung over his shoulder.

"I brought presents!"

[magus_majere]

Nothing stopped him; in fact, the gate even opened on its own, and the main, huge door into the tower itself was unlocked. Only one door open inside, light spilling out onto the staircase; the main lab, where they'd blown shit up last time.

All the shrapnel and soot had been swept out, of course. The craters had been... healed? somehow? That wasn't new stonework patched in.

And there was Raistlin, the blackrobe waiting near one of the large stone slab tables in the room, leaning on his staff as usual, hood up.

"And what did you bring?" Yeah, he heard that. May as well go over whatever Wade had brought, first, in case this attempt worked.

[sharpeinolds]

"Phone case." Like he said he'd bring!

It'd look standard, at first. Black, utilitarian, matched the robes! And then... Well. The little pink nose and pointy little ears betrayed the rest of it. A cat case.

LOOK. Raistlin's a wizard, Wade didn't see no fucking black cats around here, shit's not right. The guy needed a black cat, and if he was going to enchant a phone case, it may as well look like one.

Magic black cat phone case, he's a helper!

[magus_majere]

"Well." Raistlin didn't often find anything cute, but that was fucking adorable and he wasn't entirely immune to the concept.

"That certainly is... something." Didn't sound disapproving, though!

[magus_majere]

hj
ykyuh
hjjjy
j,kjh

Well, that wasn't a normal text, even from a high fantasy wizard.

[sharpeinolds]

No, hj ykyuh hjjjy j,kjh wasn't exactly what he expected to see from this number in his phone, and when he wasn't immediately assaulted by a tentacled screaming abyssal monster from the deepest regions of the darkest oceans, he was fully dressed and out the door.

Raistlin didn't strike him as the kind of guy to butt dial, make drunk texts, or keysmash for the hell of it.

Again, it wouldn't take long for him to reach the tower, managing to refrain from just hucking rocks at ghosts this time, his pace somewhere along the lines of a very fast jog.

In the tower, every room he'd pass on his way up would get the briefest check and a quick "HEY", upon not getting an answer he'd move on, up until he reached the study.

There he was.

[magus_majere]

There were shadowy things in those rooms, once in a while, that moved in response to being checked in on. But they weren't Raistlin.

Indeed, there he was, in the study. Face down on the floor in an inelegant sprawl, a mess of books and notes around him that had clearly come down from the desk when he'd tried to catch himself against the corner and failed, his hand slipping out from under him and sending all this stuff flying.

The phone, now rocking that adorable cat case, was amongst the stuff on the floor, still showing the weird keysmash from a stray thumb during that failed gambit.

Breathing... breathing would take a moment to figure out if it was happening. It wasn't, for a moment, and then there was a wet, gurgling suck of air from between bloodied lips. And the coughing, of course, wetter and more ragged than ever, wracking his thin frame like a jackhammer.

[sharpeinolds]

Yep, there he was. For a moment, even as Wade quickly moved to his side, he'd thought perhaps the other man had fell. He was, after all, quite fragile. Took perhaps a bit too rough of a tumble, hit himself just the right way.

Even a quick surface assessment though ruled that out. No, this wasn't a tumble. Not just a tumble anyway, and he hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until Raistlin gasped for air.

There he was.

"Alright, hospital time." No quips, no jokes, he was already moving to try and just bundle the fallen wizard up to get him out the door.

[magus_majere]

Raistlin was a lot heavier than he looked, with all those layers of heavy velvet weighing him down. Not that it would stop Wade, of course, but later, one might wonder how much easier Raistlin would move if he'd wear, you know, normal clothing.

Like a normal person.

A normal gold person currently grabbing two fists full of the front of Wade's clothing, shaking his head vehemently between ragged, wet coughs. What's a little blood spatter in the face between buddies?

[magus_majere]

(( CONTINUING FROM https://prismaticrap.dreamwidth.org/6793.html?thread=13736329#cmt13736329 to avoid having to fill out CAPTCHA every response. ))

Look, Raistlin was a blackrobe. Casual vandalism was easily the least of his sins in the name of curiosity, even since arriving on this world mere hours ago.

"You are the one with an idea of the lay of the land."

Ie, you pick.

[sharpeinolds]

"Well, do you want the serene silent lonely comfort of a forest far flung from the light and noise pollution of society?

Orrrr do you wanna go sleep in a bed in a house with a roof?"

[magus_majere]

"And I suppose it is a choice between one or the other?"

How annoying.

[sharpeinolds]

"Or we could go hit up a twenty four hour donut shop."

[magus_majere]

"...A what?"

Look, that threw him a bit, okay? The context of Wade's previous suggestions had sounded like living arrangements, and now a shop?

"I am not living in a shop."