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"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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"And it sends it out so fast that it does..." a gesture off toward the latest of the unfortunate rocks, or at least the pieces of it, "that. Interesting. Much more efficient than archery."

"Yeah, and it's louder too." He sounds gleeful about that one.

"I got tons of different rounds if you wanna pick those apart."

"Is being louder particularly useful?"

In general, Wade.

"No, but it makes me giggle like a fresh faced school girl, and that's all that matters."

"I trust you realize how exceedingly peculiar you are."

The shade of it all.

"Thanks, my mom said I'm special too." No trust him, he wholly understands how peculiar he is. He was off before the brain tumors but all the cancer isn't helping.

"So you want those rounds or not?"

"Certainly," look, he's still crouched down here, one-handed death grip on his staff and all. For all Raistlin knows, Wade here just keeps a full artillery of bullets on his person at all times, like the mage's own spell components.

"Alright, well when I see you again, I'll make sure I got some tracers on me." That's right, those aren't here at all. No reason to carry tracer bullets around!

"But you can totally buy a more standard gun in town. They all pretty much work the same, just with modifications to make the explosion bigger, hold bigger rounds. Some of them have scopes, fuck, some of them have hinges on the barrel so you can shoot around corners."

That earned a single raised eyebrow, the effect lost in the shadows of Raistlin's hood. "You intend to continue to harass the denizens of the Grove, do you?"

You plan to come back?

But since the demonstration seems to be over, the archmage hauls himself back up to standing, with visible effort.

"Well, I wouldn't have to, if I saw you outside of Shit Your Pants National Park. You could like... go outside of this place and I can give them to you."

No comment on the effort it took for Raistlin to stand. The guy got up, so clearly he didn't need the help.

"I suppose that would be the case."

So, no. Raistlin is just fine staying in his tower, observing Genessia from its confines and only occasionally venturing out to take a sample of something that holds his interest long enough to warrant it.

"... Dude, if you wanna hold my hand so bad you can just ask, I don't have to keep getting multi-murdered in Hell's Hundred Acre wood here."

HE WANTS TO VISIT.

Raistlin takes a moment to try to parse that one, both hands still on the Staff of Magius at his side.

A moment later, simply, "Clarify."

"I don't like your woods, bro, but if that's what I have to walk through in order to come hang out with you, fine.

But that does mean that you're going to have to walk me because I'm actually, genuinely terrified of that fucking forest."

"Is this... attachment of yours a side effect of your being 'special'?"

Raist don't be such a sour grape.

"If I said yes would it make a difference? Come oooon, don't be such a jerk. I just wanna hang out, talk about shit, blow stuff up, you know.

Friend stuff."

Raistlin visibly recoiled a bit at that word. Ew. Gods above, this man really was an overgrown kender.

"We don't even know each other's names."

Aaand hand out for a shake.

"Hi, I'm Wade Wilson, code name Deadpool, don't tell anyone my real name.

Unless you do.

It actually doesn't matter, but the code name does sound really cool. And you are?"

Raistlin eyes Wade's hand like it's going to bite him, and then after a long moment of consideration, reaches out to do the thing. Barely. Delicate bird bones; how brutish is this massive kender going to be? He can't wait.

"Raistlin Majere."

The shake is... quick, firm enough to be there, and done. Look, he can shake hands like a normal person, he only does the hand crunching squeeze thing with Colossus and Cable.

"There you go, we did the introduction thing like a pair of normal people. I, for one, feel very accomplished.

Now we don't ever have to do it again."

"The introduction, or act like normal people?"

Raistlin's shoulders actually visibly un-tensed a little when Wade didn't manhandle his hand, though he was of course quick to take it back.

"Yes." Both. Both is good.

"I hate that normal shit. At least now I don't have to keep calling you sparkly forest wizard, that doesn't really roll off the tongue, or fit in my phone contacts very well.

Well hey, now that I'm here, and I absolutely don't want to go walking through your awful nightmare ghost forest again quite yet, uh... Anything else you want to know? I have all the time in the world."

Literally.

Edited 2019-07-21 05:12 (UTC)

"Not at the moment. Until next time, Wade Wilson."

And then suddenly,

with no warning,

Wade was standing outside the forest again.

"Not at the wa-" and outside the danger forest.

All alone.

Just him and no little gold buddy.

"... Heeeey."