(no subject)

[littleyellowboxes]

Deadpool is sitting on a comfortable couch by the fireplace. He's surrounded by a pile of sharp objects. A couple swords, a combat knife, several pouches full of throwing knives, a few shuriken...you get the idea.

He's industriously cleaning, sharpening, and polishing all of them. It's a lot more focused energy than you usually see from Deadpool.





Oh wait, he's humming In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida under his breath, and occasionally doing an air guitar solo. He's probably fine.

Comments

[veryvorkosigan]

"Hmm." She frowns slightly. "I think technically yes? Although honestly I'm not sure whether it's me or my oldest kid who owns them, on paper."

[littleyellowboxes]

"Close enough for government work! Are you on Security?"

[veryvorkosigan]

She laughs a little at the first words.

"No; I can't say I've ever wanted to be, either. And no one's asked me to sign up."

[littleyellowboxes]

"Nah, I'm with you on that one. It's a sucker's gig, trying to make all these bozos behave around here. I should know, I wouldn't want to be in charge of me! X is gonna get gray hairs before her time, if ye olde healing factor allows for it!"

Apparently satisfied with the deadliness and cleanliness of his swords, Deadpool slides them back into their sheathes.

[veryvorkosigan]

Cordelia waits until he's done with that before saying "I didn't catch your name? I'm Cordelia."

[littleyellowboxes]

"Hi Cordelia, I'm Deadpool!" He shoots her the fingerguns. Still can't tell when he's winking under the mask.

"Come here often?"

[veryvorkosigan]

"Oh, now and then. Maybe two or three times a month, give or take."

(Cordelia is lacking the cultural referents to either identify or misidentify 'come here often' as a pick-up line.)