fandomhigh | Fandom High Auditorium, Thursday Afternoon

Fandom High Auditorium, Thursday Afternoon

As whatever was happening on the island became less and less likely to be cleared up with a good old fashioned fight, it seemed it was time to figure out just what to do next. So, a radio announcement let people know to meet up at the school to pool their resources and go over what they knew so far.

Even if some of the people who were supposed to be in charge weren’t looking quite so well anymore...

Gray wasn’t the most charming color when it came to human skin tone.

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"Stab 'em until they talk." Yes, that was an excellent solution, Deadpool. Thank you for your help.

"Would the school bail me out if I did that?" Jack laughed.

"Well, they'll probably be dead, so no worries about pressing charges."

Jack squinted. Considered not saying anything.

No, he ... sort of had to say something. To clarify.

"I don't think that's exactly how it works, is it?"

"How many people are we planning to kill for this?" Deadpool asked, digging nails into the chair in front of him. Ooo! Nice and sharp!

"I wasn't planning on killing anyone," Jack said, rather prim. "You brought up the possibility."

He rested his chin on his hand. "If they're all dead, they probably wouldn't be much help to our inquiries anyhow."

"...wait, we're questioning people?"

"I thought that's what we were talking about. What did you think we were talking about?"

Jack was starting to feel the slightest bit dizzy.

Deadpoool cocked his head to the side, thinking it over. "Food?"

"... you aren't a well man, are you?"

He didn't just mean the apparent current illness.

"Iiiiiii've been better," Deadpool replied with a grin. "I can spell my name with your entrails."

"I don't think I have enough entrails for that, depending on how big you write," Jack said.

Then he realized this might be a dumb thing to have observed. It rather encouraged experimentation.

"And I think I should perhaps stop talking now."

"You're adorable," Deadpool cooed, reaching over to give him a pat on the head.

Jack gritted his teeth and folded his hands in his lap, reminding himself not to reach up and clamp his fingers around Deadpool's arm hard, no matter how good it would feel.

"I try to be. Sometimes it keeps me alive."

Edited 2011-08-05 01:39 (UTC)

"Like now?"

This was making him insane. Jack reached up and forcefully removed the hand. "No, right now I don't feel much like a harmless little pet."

Deadpool looked from the hand on his wrist, to Jack, back to the hand, back to Jack. Then growled.

"No touchie."

"Fine," Jack said, releasing it and stepping back. He felt he'd made his point.

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Fandom High Auditorium, Thursday Afternoon

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