Who: Hansel, Gretel, and later Wade/Deadpool
What: Hangover Cures and First Meetings
When: Morning/Breakfast time
Where: Their room, then the Castle Dining hall
Rating/Warnings: Low/some bad language
Status: In progress



What a fucking night - and probably the first she'd ever thought that when there hadn't been spells or village brawls or a hundred witches trying to cut her heart out of her chest. It'd been more than draining, but in a way she was completely fine with handling. As always, Gretel woke with the sun, but even in the thick feather bed in a lavish castle room, she hadn't felt safe or even comfortable until last night. All because of the man snoring on the floor beside the bed.

She'd stepped gingerly over him like she'd done a million times before, and after gently making sure he was still breathing, went about getting dressed. Not the thin summer shirt or coarse denim she'd been forcing herself to get used to. Not the flimsy underthings that had wires that dug into her ribs whenever she lifted the crossbow. Maybe for solidarity's sake, or the fact that she simply was much more comfortable, after a shower (one of the definite pluses of this time period), she worked herself into her boots, the leather pants, cotton shirt, gauntlets, and yes, even the bodice. When Hansel began to stir, she was sitting on the edge of her bed, weaving her hair.

"He lives," she said with a distinct smile in her voice.