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TEST DRIVE ∞ May 2025
Test Drive ∞ May 2025
The First Collision
The Diadem is an invite-only panfandom game set in a retro-futuristic world where uprooted souls find themselves deep within an eerie wasteland of roads and highways frequently assailed by cosmic storms. Three united strongholds keep the population. Its capital is Panorama, a large metropolis at the planet's center.
Soon, you realize you aren't alone. Calling themselves fluxdrifts, the "locals" have similar stories to you, either for themselves or their ancestry. You speak to an old woman who claims she hailed from another star. You meet a young man who says his great-great-grandfather knew a strange language everybody spoke "back home." As you explore, you stumble across a coin you recognize or your sister's locket. How did it get here? What does this mean? That's for you to discover.
But first, you need to find a ride.
Soon, you realize you aren't alone. Calling themselves fluxdrifts, the "locals" have similar stories to you, either for themselves or their ancestry. You speak to an old woman who claims she hailed from another star. You meet a young man who says his great-great-grandfather knew a strange language everybody spoke "back home." As you explore, you stumble across a coin you recognize or your sister's locket. How did it get here? What does this mean? That's for you to discover.
But first, you need to find a ride.
No invites needed to play on the TDM. Everyone's welcome! Use the Invite Request thread below to request an invite from another player.
∞ Summary ∞
IC-wise, arrivals are scattered throughout the month. Events described on the TDM are also ongoing throughout the month. If you'd rather jump right into the action, you're free to begin in media res with your character having already been on the planet for several days.
Post-impact, characters will wake up in a med tent by the Scrapyard. From there, they must accept a vehicle on loan and make the 2-hour drive to the nearest city, Panorama. If they refuse the car because they don't want the loan, they'll be in debt for medical bills instead...so just take the car. It'll come in handy.
Some things to keep in mind when bringing in your character:
TDM threads can be canon if characters are accepted. Top-levels made to the TDM should be open to all.
Post-impact, characters will wake up in a med tent by the Scrapyard. From there, they must accept a vehicle on loan and make the 2-hour drive to the nearest city, Panorama. If they refuse the car because they don't want the loan, they'll be in debt for medical bills instead...so just take the car. It'll come in handy.
Some things to keep in mind when bringing in your character:
- Pick an injury. At minimum, they got knocked out; at most, whatever they can recover from. Medicine is decently advanced so they'll heal faster if not painlessly.
- Decide items kept. Reasonable items on their person only: photos, keys, clothes, costumes. No pets or animal companions. Wildly out-of-place tech and personal cell phones will be damaged beyond repair.
- Select a weapon. Do this only if eligible. Guidelines about weapons and powers are on the FAQ.
- Choose a vehicle. Decide whether your character gets 2-3 options or if they're stuck with something they hate. Players can pick directly from our collection or source their own images. Anything under a similar aesthetic will work. If your character needs accommodations for driving, they can have them. Ask us for details.
- Get a phone. Characters have to obtain a phone (and a SIM card) themselves. If they've got one from home, it's damaged beyond repair. Phones are cheap. It'll only take a couple of weeks to afford one. You need to know the number before you text or call anyone. Read about phones and the Forum before you hop on it.
TDM threads can be canon if characters are accepted. Top-levels made to the TDM should be open to all.
Fluxdrift
Arrival & Introduction
Date: Throughout May
You've tumbled over a cliff. You were fighting for your life. You're on the cusp of death. You slipped in the shower. Whatever the catalyst, you struggle to cling to consciousness. As darkness overtakes you, a swirling vortex warps light and shadow in a way that defies all physics. A dark wail etches into your very bones. You couldn't describe it if you tried. You can barely comprehend what it is.
Then you open your eyes.
Through the figure's mask ©, you swear the face is grinning down at you. The tent you're in smells of antiseptic, and scratchy blankets line your cot. Injuries you've sustained have been bandaged. In the corner, you spot a MedBot that's fixed you up. Depending on the extent of your injuries, the doctor on duty might give you some painkillers before you go. Thankfully, your belongings are by the exit. Sorry if anything's damaged. Your landing was pretty rough.
You follow the figure outside. They are Yom Crook, here to lend a hand to fellow fluxdrifts like yourself. Their car's parked beside them. Actually, there are lots of cars around, but Yom Crook's stands out with its painted shark mouth. They explain they found you, unconscious, in a diffusion zone and brought you here. The nearest city is a 2-hour drive northeast. Forget about walking. You'll never make it. Also, you owe the doctor a lot of money for patching you up. But you're in luck: they've got some wheels for you and if you accept the vehicle on loan, Yom Crook will cover your medical bills. That's a good deal, right? It's not the shiniest car or motorcycle, but it'll do. If fortune favors, you'll get to choose between two or three options. Plus, if you need accommodations to drive—like adjustments to your seat height or modified controls—you'll receive all that for free.
Take the vehicle. (And the loan.) Yom Crook assures you that you'll have six months before collectors come around. Any time you're ready to pay a part of it down, return here to the Scrapyard. You'll get a receipt and everything. Paying off the loan in six months isn't impossible, but it will take a lot of work. Just don't get too lax. There's a good chance you'll be juggling multiple loans as you try to get by.
You either know how to drive, or you'll have a bare-bones manual to get you started. Road rules are more a suggestion than enforced, so just hit the pedal and go. The car has some basic features. The built-in compass will help you navigate.
Through the figure's mask ©, you swear the face is grinning down at you. The tent you're in smells of antiseptic, and scratchy blankets line your cot. Injuries you've sustained have been bandaged. In the corner, you spot a MedBot that's fixed you up. Depending on the extent of your injuries, the doctor on duty might give you some painkillers before you go. Thankfully, your belongings are by the exit. Sorry if anything's damaged. Your landing was pretty rough.
You follow the figure outside. They are Yom Crook, here to lend a hand to fellow fluxdrifts like yourself. Their car's parked beside them. Actually, there are lots of cars around, but Yom Crook's stands out with its painted shark mouth. They explain they found you, unconscious, in a diffusion zone and brought you here. The nearest city is a 2-hour drive northeast. Forget about walking. You'll never make it. Also, you owe the doctor a lot of money for patching you up. But you're in luck: they've got some wheels for you and if you accept the vehicle on loan, Yom Crook will cover your medical bills. That's a good deal, right? It's not the shiniest car or motorcycle, but it'll do. If fortune favors, you'll get to choose between two or three options. Plus, if you need accommodations to drive—like adjustments to your seat height or modified controls—you'll receive all that for free.
Take the vehicle. (And the loan.) Yom Crook assures you that you'll have six months before collectors come around. Any time you're ready to pay a part of it down, return here to the Scrapyard. You'll get a receipt and everything. Paying off the loan in six months isn't impossible, but it will take a lot of work. Just don't get too lax. There's a good chance you'll be juggling multiple loans as you try to get by.
You either know how to drive, or you'll have a bare-bones manual to get you started. Road rules are more a suggestion than enforced, so just hit the pedal and go. The car has some basic features. The built-in compass will help you navigate.
OPTIONAL PROMPTS: a flat tire; a body on the road (is it a trap?); a fender bender
Panorama
Explore & Settle In
Conditions: Warm spring temperatures, light showers
After 2 hours on the road, you find civilization. The largest of the strongholds, Panorama is where the economy thrives. Massive power plants glowing red make it visible from a distance. The city is divided into three districts. For now, you can access the Pavilion and the Blocks. Don't worry about the Sanctum; they're not letting you in.
You only need to know two things about Panorama: 1) it's big, the size of a modern metropolis, and you'll need your car to get around; 2) anything goes as long as you don't pick a fight with the wrong person. Street smarts will get you far. Despite its geographical size, the population isn't huge. With roughly a million people in a city designed for over twice that number, Panorama is far from deserted, but nor is it overcrowded. It's a good thing. Resources are limited as it is.
You only need to know two things about Panorama: 1) it's big, the size of a modern metropolis, and you'll need your car to get around; 2) anything goes as long as you don't pick a fight with the wrong person. Street smarts will get you far. Despite its geographical size, the population isn't huge. With roughly a million people in a city designed for over twice that number, Panorama is far from deserted, but nor is it overcrowded. It's a good thing. Resources are limited as it is.
The Pavilion: Free Samples
Like any large city, Panorama features a couple of supermarkets. The stock's not as consistent as a proper supermarket. On occasion, shelves can remain cleaned out for a week or two. Regardless, the long tradition of free samples remains. If you're not already shopping, you'll notice the crowded parking lot and clusters of lines inside.
Try samples, push through the crowds as you shop, or give yourself a five-finger discount. If you're cautious, you can pocket a few small items without consequences. The Pavillion doesn't have the infrastructure for surveillance; unless someone sees you, you won't be caught. Steal from the store or pilfer someone's wallet. Maybe you even make a new friend if you bump into another fluxdrift. Or, start a fight with somebody who cut you off in the cheese line. Don't make too much of a ruckus, or you'll be thrown out.
As you look around, you'll see posters advertising temporary positions for the cash register or graveyard shifts in the warehouse. Seems they might've lost several employees recently (how'd that happen?), which is good for you! It's just a 6-week position, but it'll get you on your feet. The city has temporary positions like this all over. Permanent ones are harder to come by when you're new.
Try samples, push through the crowds as you shop, or give yourself a five-finger discount. If you're cautious, you can pocket a few small items without consequences. The Pavillion doesn't have the infrastructure for surveillance; unless someone sees you, you won't be caught. Steal from the store or pilfer someone's wallet. Maybe you even make a new friend if you bump into another fluxdrift. Or, start a fight with somebody who cut you off in the cheese line. Don't make too much of a ruckus, or you'll be thrown out.
As you look around, you'll see posters advertising temporary positions for the cash register or graveyard shifts in the warehouse. Seems they might've lost several employees recently (how'd that happen?), which is good for you! It's just a 6-week position, but it'll get you on your feet. The city has temporary positions like this all over. Permanent ones are harder to come by when you're new.
Samples include: steamed cabbage dumplings, synthetic cherry juice, cheddar cheese, and chocolate-covered alien eggs (it's crunchy and weirdly tasty). They're served in the usual throwaway paper cups with little toothpicks.
The Blocks: Power Outage
Power's finicky in Panorama, especially in the Blocks. Saint Margery's Hospital, located in the same area, has priority for power so the first to go are the motels. Maybe you've been in your room for a couple of weeks, maybe you just got here—and by the way, every motel desk is happy to put the fee on your tab if you don't have the money upfront—but all the motels on the east side are in a blackout, leaving only the west side motels up and running.
What do you do? You have three choices:
What do you do? You have three choices:
- Risk leaving your room and head to the other side where there's power. Knock on some doors and negotiate with another to share the room. They might shut the door in your face, ask for a favor in return, or be nice enough to help you with no strings attached. There's no guarantee your unattended room will be untouched, though, and you'll be on the hook for any damages an intruder causes.
- Sit in the dark and deal. It's not the worst idea, but the TV's down, the vending machines are powered down, and with the entire place plunged into darkness, you risk getting robbed. If you struggle with defending yourself, you might want to find some trustworthy company. You can also sneak out of there and let them take your leftover pizza. It's not like you've got a ton of valuables, right? Plus, clobbering someone in the face with a frying pan sounds great until you realize you've gotta do something with the body. And what if this person's got a friend waiting?
- Get in your car and drive (or grab a friend for a road trip). If you scroll the Forum, you might notice reports on diffusion zones southward. Besides, these motels are hardly your forever home. The city can only provide so much. Why not go for a ride and see what you can find out there?
OPTIONAL PROMPTS: clean up on aisle 3 (what is that goo?); a knock at your door but no one's there; you hear screaming or a commotion down the hall
The Fringes
Quad 3: Lockdown
Conditions: Stormy, with flooding roads
Felix Bjurstrom
> Date: 125-05-17
> Time: 02:15:57
> Emergency road lights have been reported in Quadrant 3! Please, can someone go see what's there? When last we chasers investigated emergency lights, a whole truck filled with sour candy had tipped over. Our stores were stocked for weeks! Oh, be careful - reception looks bad in that zone.
> Date: 125-05-17
> Time: 02:15:57
> Emergency road lights have been reported in Quadrant 3! Please, can someone go see what's there? When last we chasers investigated emergency lights, a whole truck filled with sour candy had tipped over. Our stores were stocked for weeks! Oh, be careful - reception looks bad in that zone.
Through the open windows, a computer awakens and displays a cheerful smile. The lights inside switch on.
Pick your scenario role below. Your thread partner doesn't need to take the opposite role! They can join you in the same scenario (i.e. trapped together). Players are also free to create a generic NPC for the other side to facilitate the thread.
After characters escape, they'll find one bottle of antibiotics in their pocket or car, whether they remember taking it or not.
After characters escape, they'll find one bottle of antibiotics in their pocket or car, whether they remember taking it or not.
A: Sealed In
As you peer through the windows, you see crates of medicine floating around. Antibiotics in the diadem are valuable. Hospitals and doctors are always buying. You can keep it for yourself or make a quick buck. Or maybe you're compelled to help somebody back in the city who's in need. Whatever the reason, you decide to take the risk and step inside.
Water splashes around your ankles. The lock buzzes behind you. If you try to break the windows, you discover they're unnaturally resistant to shattering. With the whole place locked tight, the water begins to churn. Then the computer lights up again.
Warning, it flashes in large, bold text. Quarantine in progress. Release code required for exit.
- To find the code, you'll have to search. Duck under the water, go through sopping envelopes and sticky notes or pick the locks on the filing cabinets and desk drawers. You can also try hacking the computers. Use your computer knowledge or fall back on the age-old trick of seeing who wrote down their password.
- The files, notepads, and emails start innocuous, but as you look through them, disturbing phrases jump out at you—a dark thought you've had or a cruel taunt from someone in your past. The longer you're fixed on the terrible words, the higher the water begins to rise. Only another can break you out of your trance.
- With the rising water comes fear. And the more you're afraid, the more the water also rises. You begin to see faces in the water, bobbing like balloon heads. Do you recognize them? If you move to take a closer look, they will sink back beneath the surface as if never there.
- If you manage to swallow your panic, you can eventually find a triple-laminated binder with the release code and instructions. Bad news: you need someone on the outside to punch in the 6 strange symbols in order. The instructions explain that the code panel is located at the back of the building.
B: Set Free
As you peer through the windows, you see not just the crates of medicine but someone trapped inside. They look like they might be in trouble, and from your vantage point, you notice that the water is bubbling strangely. It's definitely not normal rainwater. As you watch, the water rises unnaturally, stopping and starting. It's as if the water level is responding to an external stimulus.
- The glass is soundproof. You can't hear what the person inside is saying, so you'll have to communicate with each other another way. Try charades, typing on your phone, or whatever you think of. Eventually, you determine that they're stuck and that you need to enter some sort of code onto a pad located—according to your trapped partner—at the back of the building.
- Around the back, shadows swallow your surroundings. The panel must be pried open, but a slippery substance makes it hard to get a good grip. Each time the substance touches you, you grow uneasy. You swear you see eyes watching you, though when you turn around, nothing's there.
- You can't seem to keep the instructions in your mind. And those symbols...they burn into your retinas. Through them, you glimpse an incomprehensibly massive figure unfurling in the darkness, pulsing as if in a deep sleep. When you snap back to reality, you realize you've injured yourself, slicing your hand on a sharp edge or a bruise you can't remember getting.
- Once you manage to release the doors, the water inside the office drains upward into the sky as though sucked out by a giant hose. The darkness spreads. Get out of there fast before the shadows drag you or your partner into the void.
Main Navigation ::: ⇅
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no subject
Except Logan just. Taps on the glass, then he. Leaves. Wade can hear his stomps, hear them cut off under the cover of rain, can't see his shape through the other side of the window.
Sure, he has that coming. And a guy of Marvel Jesus's caliber should not be spending the last twenty minutes pretending to drown (he's also timeblind, thank you very much.) It's just. Huh. That's funny. The water's getting higher.
Not the first time he's seen Logan's ass walk away from him, but last time he had a way better view. And he had the idea that, maybe, he'd stop. But this is a different fucking world, and honestly? He's got no idea what the hell he's doing here. He was thinking maybe he'd finally become the cameo, but if the two of them're here --
Shit. He's not coming back. Is he?] C'mon, Big Yellow, it's just a joke! A jape! God, this guy is so sensitive about drowning.
[And he's still stuck in here, the water now quite suddenly around his chest, and the rain is hammering down hard. He's fucking soaked. But at least all the blood's been sucked outta his suit. Bonus?
Well. Guess he should start findin' some way out of --
Wait, how did he not claw through the fuckin' door? Did ol' Wolvie get declawed?
Goddammit. This isn't even Logan, is it? It's that asshole from Reminiscence! No one even watched that fucking movie!
Hugh does come back, holding up some ripped off page of Colouring For Meditation to the window. Though he's. Huh. That looks... he knocks on the glass, sloshing through the water that's nearing his shoulders now. With a triumphant toot of a saxophone, he holds up a binder. Triple laminated, bitch! Thank you, Mr. Brown!
He wades back, flipping through it until he finds the right page. (Seriously, who set up this fuckin' deathtrap? It's getting a 1 out of 5 on Yelp for an escape room.
He pushes the instructions against the window, something in him reinvigorated away from the idea of, you know, actually drowning. Not that he would do that, haha. That'd be totally cringe for a first thread, you know?
Wade points to the symbols, miming the shapes (really badly) against the window.] It's just like Zodiac! They -- wait, they definitely figured out the symbols in Zodiac, right? Ah, shit, I'm gonna drown.
no subject
He steps closer, brows furrowed. Symbols, huh? This is starting to feel like one of those really shitty exercises they used to run for the kids in the danger room. Probably one of the ones Scott designed.
Logan goes 'round back. He returns to the front. He goes 'round back. Throughout it all, the water never exactly hits the ceiling, but it never goes down, either. At least not while he's standing there to see it. The third time he's in front of the panel—the pattern slipping away from him again—he starts to hear a whisper in the wind. A presence. His vision swims, blurring. What the hell...? ]
Ah, fuck! [ He jerks his hand back. The cut seals. He slams the buttons before whatever's out here messes with his head some more. Then he's marching back for the fourth, fifth, sixth fucking time, hoping he's not gonna find the guy a bloated corpse. Look, it's just—he's had enough of that. The endless slaughter, the piles of bodies. There was a time he couldn't be assed to play hero. Then the X-Men found him, and yeah, he's still nobody's hero, never will be, but sometimes, a lot of the time, he managed to do something with the team. Something good. Shit that seemed to help make the world a little less dark. Then it crumbled so damn fast. These past few years, they've been on the backfoot, running, hiding, scrambling to keep each other alive. There was no more saving. There was just not dying.
He doesn't wanna be too late for the millionth time. And when he stumbles toward the entrance, through the now unlocked door, he's afraid he is. 'Til he hears the pulse. Going strong, actually. Almost stronger than he might expect for somebody flat on the soaking wet ground.
He shakes the man. ] You okay, bub? [ Shit. He shakes him again, harder. ] Hey, wake up.
no subject
Oh, god, it's worse than Zodiac. He's stupid. That's the problem. That's why he keeps going back and forth. It's been a nice time, breathing air. See, if he'd watched Reminiscence, Wade would know what he was working with here! Though -- did he have muttonchops in that movie? Shit.
It's in between one of Muttonchops's reappearances that Wade gives a startled yelp. He doesn't know why, but there's a kid with diabetes staring at him through the water, until he takes a double-take and it's like swirling flames had taken him over, but made of water. Instead of burning, they tremble and flow. As soon as his brain pings Russel? the face sinks back into the water.
Wade drops the binder without thinking, reaching into to grab a face he knows isn't tehre.] Okay, there is not a chance in hell this is in the CGI budget. [He loses sight of the pacer outside the window, forgets him now he's not in sight when there's another face: the same amount of diabetes somehow, but it's sporting an Evil Spock goatee and bonus mustache. Somehow even in the water, the eyes are flat and dull. Nothing in them, even as Wade's hand goes straight into it.]
All right, what are we quarantining here? Bad memories and traumadumping?
[It's about the time long, long tendrils of hair start reaching out, ebbing and flowing with the water against Wade's arm that he suddenly jerks back, and a speaker buzzes to life, echoing through the office with a single alarm: QUARANTINE LIFTED.
Wade, along with the water, suddenly gets sucked to the side, along with the binder (probably somewhere on the floor) and computer chairs, computers, and everything else in the water's way. With a yelp the water spills outside like blood in the Shining's elevator, and him with it. Wade rolls across concrete, driving forward for purchase against the ground until the water starts moving up -- up into the fucking sky as the rain is still pouring down, and he has to swim out of it somewhat frantically to not be pulled up with it.
And as he pulls his boot out of the last slosh had flops to the ground, laying there as he watches a few thousand gallons of water disappear into the sky.
That seems abbynormal.
A head pops up overhead, but this time it doesn't come with the shing of claws right after, which in some ways would be a distinct improvement. Wade's heart does this heavy sink. Look, there's a shitload of variants, but it's just like, fuck, he had a good thing going, why is he back to a solo act? Just. Huh. Muttonchops, a few less wrinkles... (That's being generous. A whole lot less wrinkles, and minus one divorce. God, that changes a guy's face, huh?)
Then there she is. Bub. Wade gasps. If he wasn't already soaking fucking wet from his inside to his outside, he might even shed a tear.] Bub? [Thank god, it's him. Loge. He coughs water to the side and spits, flopping back down as his arms lay out beside him. Wade shivers, lifting a hand to give a salute. Hey, wait. Been here before, but Big Yellow wasn't in that movie.] You really are a goddamned hero.
no subject
Hell, he doesn't know what he saw, either. Back there.
And as his eyes leave the stranger's face (why's this guy sound familiar, though? A weird flicker that pings the back of his brain), he realizes the darkness is curling around the corner, billowing out in a thick, dark blanket. ]
Trust me, I'm not. [ What he is, is the guy who knows when they've overstayed their welcome. He grabs the man's arm, hauling him to his feet. He's got questions (a lot of 'em), but he can ask later. If he cares enough to know. (Some part of him's curious. This distant sense of deja vu.) ]
C'mon, let's get outta here. You got a ride?
[ Had to, to have made it out here, but what the fuck happened inside that place? The rain's still pouring down, but the office is empty now: lights off, no more flood, the computers dead quiet. Shut down. And the darkness just keeps growing. He doesn't know what it is, can't begin to start guessing, and frankly—it doesn't matter. They need to leave now. ]
no subject
He hurls a bit more of it out and stands to shaky knees, pulling his mask off to squeeze the water out of it. They made it for a smooth groin and no camel-toe, but this thing is gonna be wet for about a fuckin' week. And here's him without a second pair of knickers.] Yeah, yeah, don't worry, peanut. I trust you.
[Hah. Classic Logan.]
Whoa! Hold on, we just met! [Gosh, he's so strong, but it's nice when the strength doesn't involve sticking six steak knives in you (but also when it does, Wade's not picky). Wade turns back in time to see the same thing that Logan appears to be unsettled by -- sure it's dark, but this is. This isn't your average every-day darkness. This is... advanced darkness.
So they've got personal insults, water hallucinations, and darkness. This place has everything!]
Well, yeah, what do you think I did, jogged out here? [He's pulled his mask back on but lifted it enough he can still spit out the occasional mouthful of spit and regurgitated office funk. With a stumbling step he leads Logan to his Beetle, which --]
Motherfucking shit! [Is now filled with water. He did not put the roof down when he parked. He opens the door to water pouring over his boots and the distinct smell of musty rain. And something suspiciously like pimento cheese.] I'm gonna assume you nicked a Vepsa on the way here, 'cause you're probably not dying for the chance to have swamp ass tonight. [Wade, though? He hops in. He can't get any wetter between the monsoon from hell and Logan's crow's feet.] Promise I won't ditch you on the way there!
[Though it's debatable his little car will make it the way he rumbles the gass and it spits pathetically at Wade's insistence. Still, it starts chugging its way back to the road.
He pulls out the egg Post-Its and puts them safely on the rare dry spot of his dash. At least he got those babies.
And the medicine he shoved into his utility belt pouches. Thanks for the one good design feature, Liefeld.]
no subject
Water gushes over his boots. Actually? He can't be too pissed off about it when he's already soaked to the bone, anyway. Not gonna ask about the suit, either. He's squeezed himself into plenty of uniforms for the X-Men. Which makes him have more questions about who the hell this guy is, but he's gonna ride outta here first. Which he does. The road turns to dirt, dry as a bone, then a misty highway with an ominous roadside sign that flashes WAIT FOR HIM IN THIS LANE. He means to get back to Panorama, maybe pause on the side of the road for a bit depending on how far they've got left to go.
Then the little bug up ahead veers right. Logan turns on instinct to follow him, thinking maybe the man saw something important 'til he spots the flickering holographic sign spelling out Denny's in bold letters.
That's different.
He sighs, slowing to a stop behind the man. Watches him get out of the car. Seriously? ] Hey! The hell are you—we're not stopping— [ Ugh. ] Hey, asshole—
[ And that's how he ends up pushing open the door to a bizarre futuristic Denny's. He hates this fuckin' place. At least the door doesn't seal shut behind them. Lit up inside, too. Pretty clean, even. He frowns, glancing around the booths, the screens, the counters where nobody's working but where a bunch of machines sit next to a cash register.
Logan shakes off his jacket, hanging it over a chair to dry off. ] Wanna tell me what we're doing here?
[ 'Cause he was thinking about going home to get some damn sleep. Though...now that they're here, he can smell fresh eggs and pancakes. Syrup on the table looks decent, too. He sniffs it. Not bad. Something in here's gotta be waiting to kill them, right? Luck just doesn't happen to him. ]
no subject
This is a Denny🍁s.
There is not a chance in this life, or the next, or in a different, sexier multiverse, that he would pass up some pipin' hot maple stuffed holes. Perfect for sharing.
Wade throws an arm out the window and gestures to the place, pulling right up to the front parking space. When he steps out, another slush of water comes flowing out with him.
It's like old times. Two guys, a desert wasteland, and a diner. Except this one is nice. There's no relying on canned SPAM and, uh, rubbing alcohol. Not that there's any alcohol period, but there might be some fermenting old bottles of mayo in the back --] What, you new to restaurants or something? [He slaps Logan on the shoulder on the way in, making his coy little way to a stool to hop onto.] It's no shady biker bar, but -- holy shit, look at that! [Hovering just above the screen to one of those handy machines are several columns of slightly wavering holographic images of popular breakfast foods. Yes, including the Lumberjack Slam.
Wade doesn't pause before he presses his finger into one of the images, buzzing the machine to life.] Forget human organs, we're printing eggs! God, the future is beautiful.
[Wade pulls his mask off, giving Logan an easily-pleased grin. This one's off, sure, but it's still, you know, basebones Logan. With, distinctly, a lot less desperation to get drunk, now, immediately. Sort of relieving, to be honest. The rubbing alcohol stink on his breath still gives Wade the heebie jeebies.] So, you been here long? Suffer any mental breakdowns yet?
no subject
The menu flickers into view. Logan raises an eyebrow. Alright, then.
While the stranger does that, Logan circles behind the counter to the register. They do, in fact, open, but the only thing inside are a handful of translucent-looking coins, projected from...somewhere. Apparently. His fingers go right through them. So much for that. He slides the register shut with a sigh.
His eyes narrow. Really? God, he liked this idiot so much better when his mouth was locked behind the impenetrable soundproof windows. You wanna stay, be my guest. The words sit on the tip of his tongue. And it's not often he bites back his words, but, listen, he gets it. The man nearly died, they're both soaking wet, and a cup of coffee doesn't sound like a bad idea at all. Maybe he's a little more tolerant 'cause of the near-death situation part. ]
If you won't shut up, you can at least tell me who you are.
[ The suit, the appearance, the fact that...the man's obviously not shaken up at all about the incident. He just wants to know exactly who it is he pulled outta there, that's all. Clearly, not a civilian. ]
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Internal snort. Imagine.
There's the barest flicker in his expression before Wade looks away, spinning on his stool right back to the machine as it is, indeed, printing some motherfucking eggs onto a plate underneath it, made out of god knows what, but still with a beautiful golden yolk. It doesn't mean shit that Logan doesn't know him; he's met plenty that don't. But, you know, after Cable, he had a little hope. There's, what, a hundred variants of the Wolverine? And most of them kill him on sight. It's actually a spectacle that one's first instinct was to help his ass.
But not knowing him, that would be the answer why.] Wade Wilson, or, you know. Sorry, no, you don't know, hah! [He doesn't know. Wade wiggles his flaccid mask at him, flinging water in all directions.] Deadpool. Though, really, let's be serious with each other. Does it matter? As far as you know, I'm a poor, innocent drowning victim with a miraculously optimistic outlook considering the circumstances. Speaking of -- [He digs into a utility belt pouch, tossing over a couple of bottles he'd nicked.] You deserve a fair share for doing your duty, hero. If drowning yourself dead in liquor isn't your thing, you can try something new!
[Though even crushed up, these aren't likely to be much fun.]
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Company aside.
He rolls his eyes and punches the button for a stack. And bacon. ] Stop— [ He catches the bottle. Oh. Yeah, he'll take that. ] —calling me that. [ Hero, he means, 'cause he's not.
He stuffs the bottle into the pocket of his hanging jacket, then gathers the coffee and plate it spat out. None of it smells particularly like real food, but it's close. It's the type of thing only he could sniff out the difference, maybe. This synthetic edge that tickles his nostrils.
He sets the tray onto the nearest table and slides into the booth. It oughta feel weird, but frankly, this entire dimension is a little insane. A Denny's printing food isn't the worst. Plus, it's dry. Coffee actually tastes pretty good, too. But there's something else, too. Something about the way this Wilson guy is acting around him. His little comments. The fact that he hasn't asked for a name in return.
Logan peers at Wade. (Wade Wilson. How come that sounds...?) ] Do you know who I am?
[ He has met a few who do know him—and he knows them, too—but it's not like his claws are a big secret and he did pop them during the rescue. Maybe Wade saw them or recognizes one of the X-Men. Maybe they know each other from before Weapon X. That's happened, too. His memory's, you know...fucked. It might explain the vague flicker of familiarity he keeps getting. ]
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At least Mary isn't here. She should enjoy the entire couch while only Al's there to bully.
But between the two of them, only one's still a hero. An anchor being. Well, not this one, but. One of them.
Wade barks a laugh, hopping off his stool to steal a pitcher of syrup from another table. Know him? God, he's adorable.] Not a lot of people in our circles don't know who you are, peanut. Comes with the territory. Devilishly handsome antiheroes, mutants, guys with a weird attraction to sharp objects -- you don't have any idea how many cross-overs we've got.
[Seriously, Google them. And it's only gonna get worse now.]
You might remember, you think hard enough. [He takes his seat back, pouring syrups over -- over eggs, yeah, those are eggs covered in syrup. He leans in, serious.] I... am your father's brother's nephew's cousin's former roommate. Which makes us nothing! Nothing but a vague, retconned memory.
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But that last bit? That snaps a wire in his brain, trips those instincts that make him react before he thinks twice.
Though hell, he doesn't need instincts to know that Wade's saying a lot without saying a damn thing at all.
He grabs Wade's wrist before the man can put the syrup down and yanks him in even closer. ] Listen to me—I just kept your ass from drowning, it's 4 A.M., and I'm not in the fucking mood. Quit dicking around. I want a straight answer.
[ Everybody always knows something more than he does, and he's getting tired of it. Got tired of it years ago. He's aware it's a thing that happens, that this is a part of who he is (of what they did to him) but he doesn't enjoy the feeling that somebody could be using it to jerk his chain. And maybe that's not what this guy's doing, maybe Wilson's simply a dumbass who talks too fuckin' much and might still be suffering from vague brain damage after being dunked in a giant water tank. Maybe Wade came with the brain damage pre-attached, which isn't exactly outta the question given what he's wearing.
Doesn't change the fact that Logan's already thin patience has been wearing down since three hours ago. ]
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Whooa, cowboy. There's a little startle in his heartbeat, but it's only from the quickness of it -- he's human, after all, haha, relatively speaking -- and those instincts don't just go away when you can survive a disemboweling. (Very unfun, by the way, that's like a 2/10 Yelp review, do not recommend.) Logan in his face, threatening him, though, that's like an everyday thing for him. (Literally. They're roommates.)] Come on, it's only our first date.
[This is goddamn familiar. It's part of how their universe works, but he can't say it isn't sort of fuckin' weird. That's a face he's known well, except tuned back at least a decade, considering the wrinkles. Or maybe all the heavy drinking just did a bad number on ol' current-day Wolvie.] Really? You're gonna act like you're only a dick 'cause it's 4 AM? You don't even have a watch!
[Okay, so if Wade wasn't someone who couldn't die, he'd have a point. Logan doesn't know that. Wade suddenly doesn't want him to know it, actually, because he has a feeling it'd piss him off even worse, and even if it's not a Logan who knows him, it's -- they're all Logan, they're all baseline, and they're like him. Not someone who's gonna gawk at his face or blush a pretty shade because he stuck his sword in the wrong guy. Or the right guy. Or himself.
Maybe he misses what he had. 'Cause he did have it. He had it all. A dog, Laura, Al, a table where every seat was filled and this feeling like he'd finally fucking done something. He'd done something right. He'd done it for them (he would've done anything for them.) Even if it'd taken Logan to show him how the fuck to do it, in the end he'd had --
The F word. The one that still doesn't come easy to him.]
I'll do you better. I'll give you circuitous one. I... was an X-Man* once. [He doesn't pull out of Logan's grip. Just lets him squeeze all those sexy metal bones around him -- ones he knows pretty damn intimately now. Oh, god, the slide of his glove up one of those bad boy's femurs... right, an answer, he was giving one, not fantasizing, 'cause that combined with the
wantedwanton aggression is gonna lead this plot down some NSFW avenues soon.] Long enough to know I'm not meant to be one, and you are.[There. Real honesty. Aren't you proud, ma? ]
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(Something still doesn't completely add up. But Wade sounds sincere, honest—for once—and maybe that overrides whatever faulty logic lies in the explanation.)
Another beat. He finally lets go of Wade's wrist.
Nobody's meant to be an X-Man. You're either there or you aren't. Wade obviously decided it wasn't for him. No judgment. Hell, Logan's taken off plenty of times. Rogue, once or twice. That's the point. That's what Charles gave them: a home they could always come back to when they were ready, whether that was a week later or three years down the line. To Charles, it didn't matter the reason or how long it took.
But he gets it, too. Can practically hear himself beneath that I'm not meant to be one remark. He gets it at the same time he can't help the noise he makes: irritated, sorta dismissive. This guy's never met him, doesn't know anything about him; what makes him think he's got any idea why Logan's one of the X-Men to begin with? 'Cause it isn't that he belongs more than anyone else. It's sure as hell not 'cause he somehow fits the picture of peace and prosperity the Professor dreamed of. So much for that, anyway. He's not gonna pretend he was harbouring some distant hope they could fix things. Even after they sent him back on that insane plan—
(It could've worked. It could've, if he'd just...if he'd done something else, gotten through to Charles faster. Shit, he doesn't know.)
He dumps some syrup on his plate, then rolls up a pancake and mops up the sticky liquid like he's dipping bread in soup. ] I'm not meant for anything, trust me. [ He takes a bite. ] So why didn't it stick for you, huh? Couldn't stand the matching outfits?
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Yeah, yeah, he doesn't get it. Can't blame him. Wade heaves a sigh at him and starts cracking his eggs open so the yolks bleed all over the plate, mixing with the syrup and the bacon and the whole combo. He shoves a mouthful in, patting the robot-machine that printed out his breakfast.
Y'know what, it's not great. But it's Denny's, and that's good enough for him.]
Yeah, sure. I trust you. [He gains a little smile back, lets the weird air pass. Look, all of this was in his past, right? And he proved you don't gotta be an X-Man to be a hero. Wade doesn't hold anything against the X-Men, even if he's not one of them. Colossus wasn't at his birthday party for nothing! They're part of the F-word. It's just, you know, a guy has Phases. He's between Phases.]
All that black leather. Out in the field looking like the Backstreet Boys and smelling like a gym locker room. [And that was before they got into the primary colours. Woof.] Nah. I tried it. My methods weren't by the book. I was a bad example to the kids, and I knew it. [Even though Negasonic is way worse than he is. It's all that teenage meanness. She's not even a teenager anymore!] So I took off. [He was fired. Straight into the Icebox. Where he almost died multiple times.] Tried making my own team after. [To save a kid and kill a whole lot of bad guys with a lot of gratuitous violence.] That didn't really go well, either. [They all died. But none of those deaths were on him!] It had me thinking, I might not be a team kind of guy. Maybe like, temporary duos or trios. Five or six people at a time, tops.
[At once? Yeah. At once.]
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Anyway, alright, fine—when Wilson's not running his mouth nonstop about some incomprehensible bullshit, he's not the worst. He's not saying he likes the guy, okay? Just. That he's met worse. Logan's sat in a room with Wade longer than he ever has with Scott, so...that's somethin'. They'll see how long it lasts 'til Wade pisses him off again, but for now, Logan's relaxed some and put his attention to eating his pancakes instead of contemplating whether he could justify punching somebody out for talking too much.
He sucks a bit of syrup off his thumb, then wipes it on a napkin. ] Not exactly big on teams, either. Just, uh, I dunno. Kept finding myself in one somehow. [ He shifts, trying to decide how he feels about that description. How much it's all the shit he's thought, too. Not teaching material, not leader material, not by the book. Can't say he's surprised Wade didn't last at the school. Logan nearly didn't. Maybe the difference with Logan is, he knows they trust him—knows Charles trusts him—despite everything. But it took him a few long years to get there. ]
Guess none of it matters now. We're all in the same boat where I'm from.
[ Wonder if Wade knows about that: the Sentinels, the mutant eradication. Wade's not from that time, is he? He's gotta be some years back. ]
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Wade's gonna piss him off again inevitably, anyway. It's his whole thing.]
Well, yeah, it's what sells. Doesn't matter what universe you're in. [What issue. What timeline. Doesn't even matter what series it is. Somehow Wolverine's there, and he's on a team. Even when he's dead, he somehow manages a team-up.
Wade looks over with a brow raised. Thing is, when he had his little TVA pad, he knew where he was goin'. This Logan? This could be one in a million. Maybe even one he doesn't know about (gasp!) It's not Patch, though, which is kind of a bummer. The eyepatch does things to him. ('Course he could be Patch, without the Patch, but it sort of ruins the -- it's a nerd thing, you wouldn't get it.)] Yeah? And where are you from, anyway? Like, what's the social commentary situation looking like? Kind of rough? I'm getting a rough vibe, with the unholy way you are eating that fucking pancake.
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Government's been using these Sentinels to hunt us all down. [ Sorry to bring the bad news. ] We thought we might've had a chance to fix it, but...I don't know. It was a long fucking shot.
[ Doesn't mean that's the world staring Wade down. Time's gone sideways in this place. Between Charles, Rogue, Scott—Logan doesn't know what the hell is happening or whose timeline might be the right timeline. All he knows is, his people are here. He's found more than a handful of mutants. Now this guy. And after losing his kind by the hundreds, thousands, it feels like each one he comes across is that much more important.
Annoying asshole or not.
But it's also a reminder of what he's still gotta do. Put things right. Find a way to get everybody not just to the right time or place, but to a world that isn't being destroyed by the worst of humanity. ]
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This one's so... stone cold sober, it's feeling nearly G-rated. No threats? (Okay, mild threats with the whole "I'm not in the mood" thing; anyone else gives disappointed dad, but Logan gives angry bartender with his finger on the trigger under the counter.) No flash of claws? He hasn't even been thrown through a wall!
This feels like... dunno. Normality? Feels like something he had once. The two of them, exhausted, wrung through from regenerating from being literally fucking atomized, eating half-price shawarma (not one of Wade's better ideas) while he squeezed Mary to his chest. It's not perfect, it's not all life could give him. It's not even how he saw his life going. But it's something small, and it's familiar, and it's safe. It's not the same Logan, but to Wade, now he's stuck in this new hell, he doesn't really give a shit.
Least for now. But he does still miss his dog. He didn't take her from Nicepool only to abandon her.
He can do this. There's Cable, there's Logan. That's... okay, that's a terrible combo, actually, there's a reason they didn't meet on screen. He's gotta make sure they never do. Not like he's gonna stay here forever. Not a chance in hell he'd give up the life he carved out in Earth-10005, not when Ness was -- well. Still there.
Yeah, he's capable of thinking of all of that in the space between sentences, fuck off.]
Sentinels? [His brows raise as he mouths the word "wow," but in a really not enthusiastic way.] Not a name I was expecting to get dropped this early. [But now Wade's looking at him suspiciously, counting those crow's feet and wrinkles again. Hard to tell what Logan's lookin' like under those clothes, but he knows if he got that shirt off, he'd have more to go on.] So, who's "we"? Anyone I'd know? And hey, this is totally random, head me off if I'm going nowhere with this, but do you mind if I just --
[He doesn't wait for an answer as he tries lifting Logan's shirt. Come on! Just one glimpse of those beauties! For science. 'Cause now he's gettin' heebie jeebies for a whole different reason. The reason being he doesn't know which one this is. And it's -- fucking annoying, not knowing.] Just wanna know what gym era we're workin' with.
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Wait. Does this guy know about the Sentinels? Logan peers at Wade. Is he from just before those damn things took on a life of their own? Or...?
All efforts to logic that out go flying when Wade just. Grabs at him, and the idiot's real lucky he's got the energy of an untrained dog jumping on your lap than an actual threat. The sort of energy that doesn't immediately trigger the claws—but it does make Logan shove him back, hard enough to rock the seat and rattle the table. Coffee splashes over the mug's rim.
What the fuck. ]
Hey— [ Jesus. ] Do that again, you're gonna lose that fucking hand.
[ Anyway, whatever civility was growing between them evaporates in an instant. Logan crams the rest of the pancake in his mouth and grabs his jacket. He gives it a shake, then shrugs it on. He needs a hot shower. And some goddamn sleep. And to be alone without some handsy asshole who won't stop yapping.
(But somehow, for some reason, Logan still doesn't leave his ass. He could, but he doesn't. And he can't explain why. That itch every time Wade talks. Something about it—the voice, his eyes.) ]
We're done here. Let's go.
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Anyway, nothing new. Wade's barely phased by it, and he catches the mug before it slips off to crack against the floor. Between all his chattering he somehow did manage to down pancakes and eggs and a slightly worrying amount of syrup, but he maintains it's not as off-putting as Logan rolling up pancakes like shitty smokes and biting them like they're Pocky.]
Easy, tiger, I see we're still sensitive about a little handy action. It's not even the first time. [That he's lost a hand, he means. It's one of the less annoying things to regrow, but still. After that hardy breakfast, does he really wanna cap it with a bunch of blood everywhere?
Sentinels, a lack of drinking, and he hasn't popped claws. Even stopped to save him. Stopped to... eat fucking Denny's.
Who are you?]
Wait! [He pops up, digging into one of his pouches.] Don't wanna leave a bad impression. There's no comment cards. [So what he does leave is the exactly four toonies he had on him, dropping them in front of the machine that printed their breakfast as a tip. He pats it on the head (?).] Four outta five. We'll be back for seconds!
[As it is, he heads off to follow Logan back to his car.] So. [He heads for the door of his yellow Beetle, still where he left her.] See you around?
[He can't help it. Wade loves cinematic parallels.]
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Logan rolls his eyes, turns around just long enough to catch Wade dropping a handful of coins that glint silver and gold. He raises his eyebrow. Huh. Interesting. Y'know, he shoulda guessed. Something about Wade screams prairie boy. It's that quality of a man who's definitely hit a deer driving drunk at four in the fuckin' morning. Maybe that's the weird sense of familiarity he keeps feeling.
Right.
He shoves open the door, letting it swing shut into Wade's face. Look, he did his job. Saved the guy, had a little chat with him, even. Made sure Wade can get himself back home in one piece. Now that Logan's sure that's true, he's not gonna be sticking around like some sorta guardian or hero or whatever Wade thinks he is, whatever Wade keeps trying to search for in him. 'Cause he can feel it. He can't explain it, might not even be altogether conscious of it, but there's more going on. It draws him in as much as it pushes him away. That more? Logan's not interested. Doesn't want it. Sure as shit don't need it. The stronger it grows, the less he wants anything to do with it.
He's already on his bike, revving the engine, when Wade calls to him. Logan's got not a clue about the cinematic parallels, wouldn't care if he did. He doesn't look back a second time when he says: ]
Nope.
[ And takes off. ]
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