Who: Wade Wilson wade & Peridot spacedorito What: A thief returns his spoils. When: Tuesday, April 7, extremely early morning Where: Hope Springs Apartments, Room 107A Rating: Audience Discretion is Advised Warnings: Dismemberment -metaphorical and literal-, threats of bodily harm, insanity, foul language, Wade Wilson on a sugar high, one Space Dorito who is quite perturbed. Status: Closed/Completed GDoc
~*~
Doors made noises unless someone knew how to get around that. There were lots of normal ways -WD40, cooking oil, paraffin wax, too many to list them all- but Wade Wilson liked to lubricate his doors with blood. He had plenty. It wasn't like he had to pay for it which soothed his cheapskate mentality. No one typically fucked with a guy who lubed up his doors with his own blood. It all worked out for the best.
He made his way silently into the living room with both hands closed tightly around his prizes. It was going to be as much fun as he could make it considering. The chick had completely crushed his balls! She deserved a little freak out. If she was even able to freak out. Did alien women with detachable fingers freak out? Who knew? Wade sure as fuck didn't. All he knew was this was going to be fun.
"Hey!" he yelled out, "I'm willing to make a trade now! All you gotta do is pick a hand. C'mon! Left or right."
Waiting on his roommate to appear, Wade considered her. She wasn't ugly. He didn't think he'd fuck her. Too much drama when a guy fucked his housemates. It was possible he could offer to exchange physical favors with her. Why not? That wouldn't hurt either of them. They might even have fun with it. Wade knew a lot about having fun. Shrinks had diagnosed most of his ideas of fun as "psychotic" or "sociopathic" or something else ending in -ic. Fuck them, though, they never got laid. That was their whole problem.
"That one dude had you pegged. You're totally kinky."
He said it as if they'd been in conversation the entire time, merely picking up where they'd left off, continuing their discourse. It was the way Wade's mind worked. He couldn't think linearly. That was---stupid. Life didn't move in a straight line. People who told a guy it did? Were drunk. Never trust a drunk. Unless they're Irish and then they're just like that.
"It's not prejudice when it's true," Wade stated out loud before apologizing, "Sorry, that was for my brain. I talk to it sometimes. Doesn't help much. Still crazy. It makes me feel better though. I was thinking how someone should never trust a drunk unless they were Irish. They can't help it. Drunk is a character trait for them the way red hair or blue eyes are a trait for other people. Your people all got detachable fingers that like to squeeze a guy's balls in a death grip? You know, I'm much nicer if you play gently. I'm a sensitive sort."
~*~
Of all the possible combination of events that could have happened to Peridot, not once did the option of ‘live with a bizarre human?’ enter her mind. At first she had done her best to ignore him; but then he had stolen her fingers.
All ten of her fingers.
How had that been possible? Peridot never slept, so how did this annoying creep manage to take them? While she could have probably shifted another hand for herself, she liked what she had. Her fingers were useful, capable of performing tasks that others could not. Peridot had wanted to get some blueprints of the city, take some photos and store them in her database.
Oh, except her roommate had them.
“Not everyone,” she answered bluntly. “If applying pressure to your ‘balls’ makes me ‘kinky’, then your race is even sadder and more pathetic than I initially believed.”
The ironic part was that Peridot; as well as others of ‘her’ race, could indeed be quite kinky. Only they saw it as completely normal, and the technician went to other matters at hand. Speaking of which, “The left hand. I choose the left hand. If you’re smart you’ll give them to me regardless,” she threatened.
“What does Irish have anything to do with one’s capabilities to metabolize alcohol?” she suddenly questioned.
~*~
"Ireland is full of bad water running through black peat moss. They all drink whiskey instead of water. It's a way of life. Bred into them. Literally it is a genetic trait of Irish people to be able to metabolize alcohol faster than other populations."
Wade had seen it on some documentary. He didn't sleep much which meant he either watched a lot of documentaries, syndicated sitcoms, or infomercials. None of them were the usual fare of the general population, but Wade Wilson had never been a regular member of the general population. All he had known in his life had been his way.
His way was insanity. Always had been, only got worse after what they did to him in the Weapon X project.
Opening his left hand, Wade displayed five of her fingers along with five of his own. He grinned unrepentantly as he offered them to her and then opened his right to display the other set of his fingers with the other set of hers. They were all covered in blood which was still wet, wouldn't dry out, not ever. There was immortality inside Wade.
"I figured a set of fingers for a set of fingers. Mine won't decay. I recommend burning. Never know where they've been before they wound up with you. Plus? That blood never dries. Ever. I'm gloriously nonbiodegradable. I am a plague on the Earth. Neat, huh? I'm the saddest, most pathetic example of my species, but I'm also unkillable. I'm like the worst parasite and you can't even take drugs to get rid of me! Great! I love it. Also? How do your fingers work anyway? Are you a robot?"
She didn't look like a robot. Who knew though? Androids could look human. They made them that way. It was all part of the whole Artificial Intelligence or Artificial Life or whatever Artificial Something which resulted in the need for androids at all.
~*~
“I’m a Gem,” she answered bluntly just before nabbing the fingers from his left hand.
Blood had always been fascinating to some Gems; it may have been that it represented the force of life that could so easily be squashed; or because it was something that Gems didn’t have. Not unless they shape shifted themselves a circulatory system, and nobody wanted to waste time with such an inane ritual. Peridot looked at Wade’s disembodied fingers while her own fingers hovered over to where the palm of her hand should have been. They flexed, spun around, rotated around her mechanical looking wrist; and four of them formed a holographic touch screen in the air. Peridot used the fifth one as a stylus.
“Check up on ‘facts’ about the ‘Irish’ segment of this human race,” she recorded, “Also, sanitize fingers via chemical immolation.”
She couldn’t get sick from Wade’s blood, or whatever else, but regardless she liked things to be somewhat clean. “Are there any other ‘Wades’ around here?” she asked, assuming that Wade was the name of a subset of homosapiens that were nonbiodegrable, as he had put it.
Peridot stepped over to what Earth people referred to as a bathroom; the weight of her steps causing a noise to reverberate slightly throughout the apartment. “Adjust boots to give them less weight,” she muttered before focusing on her gem.
The gem on her forehead glowed green, and she inserted the five useless (to her) fingers inside of her gem’s pocket dimension.
~*~
Interesting was a relative descriptor. Wade Wilson rarely found anything interesting for long. He had the short term memory of a guppie and no ability to self-entertain without using violence or hideously unspeakable means to pass the time. It wasn't in anyone's better interests to leave him to his own devices. This creature who was living with him was so interesting Wade almost gave her a hug and a kiss.
"You are more amazing than Bea Arthur. That's like saying you're better than God to me. I absolutely love you. Here, let me cut off my hand and you stick that wherever you put the fingers. They might get lonely otherwise."
Wade didn't waste time. He pulled a katana free from the sheath on his back to swing it down neatly through the wrist of his other hand. It took less than two minutes for a new hand to regenerate into the old hand's place; he grabbed the old hand up from the floor and tossed it at her.
"See? I've got parts to spare, too. Oh. There's not more of me. I promise. The world couldn't handle more of me. I mean, can you imagine? I'm so crazy I make crazy look sane. There are people on LSD who become sober from being exposed to me. That's how crazy I am. So! Tell the crazy guy: what is a Gem?"
Some people would likely be upset about being called crazy. Wade was only stating the obvious. There were people with red hair, Irish people could drink more whiskey than English people, and he was crazy. It was the way of things.
~*~
Peridot grimaced at the hand being thrown at her, but managed to catch it. “You are a bizarre creature,” she groaned.
She inserted the dismembered hand into her Gem. She would never admit it, but she did like how this Wade was giving her things to study, and analyze so freely. Still, she hoped that he would stop; she liked her inner realm to be relatively clean, and not covered in body parts and blood. She would need to retreat inside of her gem to give it a good cleaning.
Though that would put her at risk of someone picking her up, and probably sticking her someplace she didn’t want to think about.
Or maybe she was being paranoid.
“We are a superior race of beings that hail from a different galaxy,” she answered like it should have been the most obvious thing in the world.
Well, that, and how do you explain to a self admitted crazy guy that your true form is your gem; your physical form is an illusion; and that most of your kind had conquered planets, and that some wanted to take over Earth? How do you explain that by dancing you could fuse with another Gem to make an even bigger, and more powerful Gem?
The answer, if you were Peridot, is that you didn’t.
“Who is this ‘Bea Arthur’?” she questioned right before she took a seat on one of the harder chairs, and proceeded to remove the robotic looking prosthetics from her legs.
They weren’t entirely needed. The main function of them was to analyze the terrain of any given planet for further analysis. Peridot had done enough analyzing of the apartment to tell where a former resident had spilled their beer. If the place had prior residents.
Now free of their bindings, Peridot’s legs grew, and shifted until they looked like a human’s legs; except green.
~*~
"Bea Arthur is the most beautiful woman to ever live. She was a long, tall goddess of divine beauty and androgynous appeal. I mourn her more with every passing year."
Wade didn't bother with a chair. He threw himself onto the floor in front of the Gem, landing on his side, propping his head up with his hand as if he were posing for a photoshoot. He wasn't trying to be amusing. He was comfortable. Floors were as good as chairs to him. His body was always regenerating which meant he didn't bruise or get bothered by hard flooring.
He let his eyes wander up her legs. They were nice enough stems for a dame. It was interesting to see someone else grow back limbs the way he could. Looking at Peridot's legs, Wade decided he liked seeing it. His katana were in front of him, dancing across each other as he lay in front of her. How long would it take for her legs to grow back if he cut them off?
Deciding to ask, Wade said, "I was thinking about cutting your legs off to see how long it takes for them to grow back. Would it hurt you? To have your legs cut off? I don't feel pain the way anyone else does. Or humans. You're not human. You're some higher being and shit so do you feel pain? I get to thinking you don't since you don't seem to bleed or whatever since you're not exactly a robot though you're mostly a robot."
It didn't take a lot of genius in action to tell she was a robot of some kind. Inorganic life? Figured life on other planets would have evolved beyond the need to mess Tab B into Slot A to produce Product C(hild).
Fucking was messy. Wade usually didn't like it. Sometimes he did. It depended on what he was able to do when he was fucking and who he was fucking at all. There were good moments in fucking sessions. Everyone talked about the money shot, but Wade? He liked the tension which came before. All that winding up, getting hard, being hard, staying hard, that was the best part. The part where he splurted out greasy spooge before he got limp?
Boring.
Wade hated nothing more than boring.
~*~
“If you cut off my legs, I would be forced to retreat inside of my gem in order to heal; and I would reform, and inflict physical pain on you,” she told him, though in the back of her mind she knew that hurting him probably wasn’t going to do anything.
It disturbed Peridot to think that this Wade person actually reminded her somewhat of Jasper. Both of them could be annoying, pain in the asses; and both of them were (at least in Peridot’s view) egotistical. The key difference was that Peridot’s superior wasn’t actually into killing, or dismembering body parts.
“So you compare me to a dead woman?” she inquired.
The whole ‘god’ part didn’t seem to phase her. Back in ancient times, Gems had been worshiped, and revered as various gods, angels, and demons. Of course, Peridot, being quite young in comparison, had rarely gotten that sort of treatment. Just as well, it disturbed her.
“I’m not a robot,” she said with a sigh, “This form is an illusion. If I wanted to I could morph into something else entirely. I, however, prefer this form.”
She truly loved how her current form was equipped to aid her with her technical work. Not many Gems could lay claim to such a unique design, and she would choose it every time over a muscular physique, or some dainty like appearance.
~*~
"Good luck with that whole 'inflicting pain' thing where I'm concerned. Like I said: I don't feel pain like regular people. I can actually sever my own head and reattach it. Trust me. You don't want to try to hurt me. You won't manage it and then I'll just see how easy it is to turn you into a pocket watch."
Wade had never had any use for watches. They had problems he couldn't understand. Most of the time they didn't even tell time the right way. Some of them had alarms which made no sense. Some of them had extra gears and dials which made no sense. Some of them even had stupid chains which could be used to attach them to a person which made no sense.
He'd always wanted a watch of his own though.
Just because.
Moving into an upright position, Wade folded his long legs Indian style and lifted himself up with his hands flat on the ground, "I like your physique. It's nifty. You're not forgettable. I appreciate not forgettable. Could you be a Playboy Playmate though? Like a super-hot naked girl who poses all sexy in her super-hot naked skin? I would totally go for a Playmate for a roomie. Not that I would ask you for sex or something. I don't have to beg for the whole sex thing. I'm considered decent looking. Besides. I've got stamina. Oh, and a big dick. That helps, too. Your people don't have sex, I'm guessing? Do you just build new Gems to have kids?"
~*~
“We do engage in acts of copulation,” she replied, “but not for procreation.”
The green colored Gem stared at Wade for a good minute before standing up, and walking over to the television set. She turned it on, then off, then back on again. She played around with the buttons until she grew bored with it after about a minute. “Everything on this planet is so archaic.”
Stepping over to Wade, she looked down on him; a perpetual scowl on her face. “Is this a common thing for your species? Bragging about the size of your equipment?” she asked.
Gem kind was a rather funny race when it came to matters of sex. They were all agender, and ‘sexless’, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t give themselves some interesting equipment; so to speak. Peridot would never admit it out loud, but she liked what she had; it always worked for it’s intended purpose; and that’s all that mattered to her.
“And what is a Playboy Playmate?” she asked, one eyebrow quirked up.
She had a feeling it had something to do with a human of the female segment that had desirable traits, or some such crap.
~*~
Asking Wade Wilson to weigh in on what was considered 'normal' would get a person nearly as far as asking a lost blind beggar in Los Angeles the way to Wall Street in New York. He thought for a long while as he tried to remember what normal people did in terms of talking. Most of them were so fucking boring he forgot to listen to them talking. They were moving mouths and a set of ears for him to fill with what he wanted to say.
He could have spent the whole day going over what they should have been saying or he could just shrug it off.
Wade was never one for ruminations.
"No idea if it's normal. I do know it has always helped me to put myself out there for my good points to try to outweigh my bad ones. I'm not exactly the greatest guy ever when it comes to the usual or normal or whatever---average. I'm not average. Brain issues."
He knocked at his own skull with a rap of his knuckles. The sound was strangely grotesque in their apartment. Wade thought it was nice. He'd always loved the sound of bone on bone. It was almost as nice as the sound of blade going through flesh. That was his favorite sound.
"So you're an advanced alien robot from another planet who can be anything you want since you're really a Gem and you fuck for fun? I'm in. Great to have you, roomie!"
~*~ “It’s Peridot,” she told him.
She sat down on the couch, and stared at the blank television screen, and at the laptop that each “prisoner” (so she believed) had received. She was considering looking up answers to questions that she had, all thanks to Wade. Without hesitation she grabbed her laptop, and with fingers flying, and eyes scanning, she looked up the questions that she did have.
“I could shift myself to look like a Playboy Playmate, but it would serve no purpose for me. Also, it seems that big dicks are not always desirable to the females of your species,” this was rattled off like she was stating facts off of the back of a cereal box.
As if to subtly prove something, she did transform into the splitting image of the latest Playboy cover model, then immediately shifted to look like the splitting image of a man she saw on some magazine about men, muscles, and classy shit. He hadn’t looked at the name.
“Leave my stuff alone, and we’ll get along alright,” Peridot nodded right before shifting into her usual form.
~*~
Shapeshifting roommates were the best Wade decided after he got through thinking about all the things he'd do if he could shift his form. He would have had boobs all the time for starters, but that was beside the point. The point was he had a roomie who was awesome. That helped enormously. Wade would have likely sliced some tool up for being in his space boring him to homicide.
He considered what it would take to 'leave Peridot's stuff alone' versus what he'd get if he did leave Peridot's stuff alone.
The entire deliberation period was less than fifteen seconds for him.
Wade nodded, "You betcha. I can leave your stuff alone. I won't promise to leave you alone though. You're awesome. I might get bored and need to experience more of Peridot's awesome to keep from becoming a homicidal maniac. That's a real thing I get sometimes: homicidal rage. It comes and goes. Brain-thing. Whatever. I can't wait to see what else you can shift into for grins and giggles. Mine on both of those since I can totally tell you store all yours in your gem. One of these days, can I see inside your gem? You could stuff me in there whole, right? Sorry. Don't answer that. It's probably invasive. I'll ask later. When you're up for invading. We're going to have so much fun. I can feel it."
Peridot should have been afraid. Wade Wilson feeling certain he was going to have so much fun with someone else was never, ever a good thing.
Lucky for Peridot, she wouldn't have to think about that or deal with it as an advanced alien lifeform who would most likely just leave him to his own devices if he annoyed her too badly---or incapacitate him in a way he wouldn't like but might be entertained by which could also prove interesting.