Not for Resale

Independent 616 Deadpool/ New to tumblr/ Not new to RP/ Don't get in my way/ You smell that?

[dedpaul]

     “We’ve had a cheesy life to be sure, but       what I’ve found myself wonderin’ lately is      will the good ever outweigh the bad? Our       schtick’s always been bad-guy-turns-good,      but we’ve spent so goddamn long tryn’a be       good that it’s ‘bout time we face the music,       we ain’t gon’na be superheroes any time       soon. ‘Bout time we went postal like we used      to, if you ask me, really cut loose. And yes,       that was a sword pun. Bit of a reach, but I spent      four days brainstormin’ that one, so start laughin’      buster.” 

[regeneratingdegenerate]

“Speak for yourself, uh, Wade.” Boy that was strange, “I already made Avenger back where I’m from. I dunno how I got here, ‘cause cross-universe stuff is fun I guess, but take me as your personal Ghost of Christmas Future, it’ll – y’know, hopefully – happen to you eventually. I dunno if I’m gonna break the time stream or @#?& up the continuum or what, so I can’t exactly tell you how it’s gonna happen, that’s the only downside to this thing.” Deadpool shrugged at Deadpool. “I really hope you’re not secretly Dreadpool, ‘cause I already did the whole kill-the-Deadpool-who’s-killin’-other-Deadpools miniseries.”

[gotthemetal]

"No matter what way they write it... our past ain't nothin' but a whole lotta explodin' head mess. The one thing constant? We're treated and streeted and that's all we'll ever know... so why don't you losers suck it up and live!"

[gotthemetal]

In Deadpool’s image

A lot of people seem to forget (or haven’t bothered to read) how Deadpool really is.  Writers in the comics now seem to undermine the character greatly. The addition of the voices in his head for one was a ridiculous idea and seems to me for simply comedic purposes, something he could bounce jokes off of and have someone else in his world rather than just the readers laughin’ their kacks off at his jokes and incessant ramblings that are filled with pop-culture reference and quick thinking. Sort of things that suggest wit rather than comedy-hour with the slowest comedian who just so happens to be an expert marksman. He use to be agile with his body and his mind (however f’ed up it was, cogs were turning quickly to dish out those long dialogues with himself about something, long-winded jokes or creative quips).  His sometimes melancholic or often times dark side have taken a backseat, too.  I get growth in a character, but not if the essence of that character is lost. 

This is just my opinion. That’s why I RP the character before even the end of his second volume. 

[blackfiire-archive-blog]

💤

send me “💤” for my muse to have to stay at your house for the night

“Nice place you got.” She draped herself on the sofa, offering one of her smiles. “So, are you sleeping with me?”

[gotthemetal]

Slinking along the wooden floor boards of his Chicago apartment -- moldy wet top off from the hard-doing of the day, Deadpool's eyes peak surprised at her question. 'Not sure I could keep my hands to myself.' Said in his voice like churning gravel in the throat.

[blackfiire-archive-blog]

👑

Send a 👑 for my muse to leave a bite mark on yours.

Bites through the male’s flesh especially hard, but enough to keep him living. “Oops. I slipped.”

[gotthemetal]

’AGGHH! Purple-eyed little –’ Slurp slrup; sound of flesh reattachin itself. Faint though obvious over his grumbling. ‘Wait till I slip my fist in'a yer – I’m kinky, hunny, but we ain’t in the bedroom.’

[blackfiire-archive-blog]

“Where’s the fun in that, dear? Who’s to say you can’t be kinky outside of the bedroom too, hmm?”

[gotthemetal]

‘You think I’m gunna let these hipsters know any more of my moves? nuh-uh. They were my moves first!’

[blackfiire-archive-blog]

“Oh please, I doubt they would want to know how to do any of your moves while they’re watching me.”

[gotthemetal]

‘Little vixen, ain’t ya? Kinda remind me o’ someone…’

[blackfiire-archive-blog]

“Are you joking? Even a vixen could only hope to be me.”

[gotthemetal]

‘Why th'heck d'ya bite me anyway?’

[blackfiire-archive-blog]

“Fun things in life are spontaneous, dear.”

[gotthemetal]

"dear" -- he leaned in, lifted up his mask, smoooooooch! dry lips puckered against hers then he withdrew. 'How's that for spontaneous?' she would see then the gangly, rotten appearence of his face -- perspective people had also of his soul which was good in nature. Misguided, sure -- like missile heading for paradise, got there and got the wrong perception of it after blowing the place sky-high.

[blackfiire-archive-blog]

👑

Send a 👑 for my muse to leave a bite mark on yours.

Bites through the male’s flesh especially hard, but enough to keep him living. “Oops. I slipped.”

[gotthemetal]

’AGGHH! Purple-eyed little –’ Slurp slrup; sound of flesh reattachin itself. Faint though obvious over his grumbling. ‘Wait till I slip my fist in'a yer – I’m kinky, hunny, but we ain’t in the bedroom.’

[blackfiire-archive-blog]

“Where’s the fun in that, dear? Who’s to say you can’t be kinky outside of the bedroom too, hmm?”

[gotthemetal]

‘You think I’m gunna let these hipsters know any more of my moves? nuh-uh. They were my moves first!’

[blackfiire-archive-blog]

“Oh please, I doubt they would want to know how to do any of your moves while they’re watching me.”

[gotthemetal]

‘Little vixen, ain’t ya? Kinda remind me o’ someone…’

[blackfiire-archive-blog]

“Are you joking? Even a vixen could only hope to be me.”

[gotthemetal]

'Why th'heck d'ya bite me anyway?'

[blackfiire-archive-blog]

👑

Send a 👑 for my muse to leave a bite mark on yours.

Bites through the male’s flesh especially hard, but enough to keep him living. “Oops. I slipped.”

[gotthemetal]

’AGGHH! Purple-eyed little –’ Slurp slrup; sound of flesh reattachin itself. Faint though obvious over his grumbling. ‘Wait till I slip my fist in'a yer – I’m kinky, hunny, but we ain’t in the bedroom.’

[blackfiire-archive-blog]

“Where’s the fun in that, dear? Who’s to say you can’t be kinky outside of the bedroom too, hmm?”

[gotthemetal]

‘You think I’m gunna let these hipsters know any more of my moves? nuh-uh. They were my moves first!’

[blackfiire-archive-blog]

“Oh please, I doubt they would want to know how to do any of your moves while they’re watching me.”

[gotthemetal]

'Little vixen, ain't ya? Kinda remind me o' someone...'

[blackfiire-archive-blog]

👑

Send a 👑 for my muse to leave a bite mark on yours.

Bites through the male’s flesh especially hard, but enough to keep him living. “Oops. I slipped.”

[gotthemetal]

’AGGHH! Purple-eyed little –’ Slurp slrup; sound of flesh reattachin itself. Faint though obvious over his grumbling. ‘Wait till I slip my fist in'a yer – I’m kinky, hunny, but we ain’t in the bedroom.’

[blackfiire-archive-blog]

“Where’s the fun in that, dear? Who’s to say you can’t be kinky outside of the bedroom too, hmm?”

[gotthemetal]

'You think I'm gunna let these hipsters know any more of my moves? nuh-uh. They were my moves first!'

[blackfiire-archive-blog]

👑

Send a 👑 for my muse to leave a bite mark on yours.

Bites through the male’s flesh especially hard, but enough to keep him living. “Oops. I slipped.”

[gotthemetal]

'AGGHH! Purple-eyed little --' Slurp slrup; sound of flesh reattachin itself. Faint though obvious over his grumbling. 'Wait till I slip my fist in'a yer -- I'm kinky, hunny, but we ain't in the bedroom.'

[gotthemetal]

I don't do drugs. I am drugs

Salvador Dali

[snarkapedia-deactivated20160301]

@gotthemetal

☣ – — ”What are you doing here?”

[gotthemetal]

‘Nothin’,’ the Merc’s hand zipped behind his backside. ‘Also, move two steps left.’

[snarkapedia-deactivated20160301]

☣ – — ”…Wh-Now what, I don’t wanna know.” With said two steps taken, Spiderman could feel a familiar tingle. 

[gotthemetal]

'Actually -- ' A crate fell fast, heavy. ' -- a dive back to the right should do it!' The sound of the crate fallin' made its presence known now.

[snarkapedia-deactivated20160301]

@gotthemetal

☣ – — ”What are you doing here?”

[gotthemetal]

'Nothin',' the Merc's hand zipped behind his backside. 'Also, move two steps left.'

[gotthemetal]

So I set sail in a teardrop and escaped beneath the doorsill Cause the smell of her perfume echoes in my head still Cause I see my people trying to drown the sun In weekends of whiskey sours Cause how many times can you wake up in this comic book and plant flowers?

Rodriguez

[gotthemetal]

The generals hate holidays Others shoot up to chase the sun blues away Another storefront church is opened Sea of neon lights A boxer his shadow fights Soldier tired and sailor broken

Sixto Rodriguez

[ofdarcy]

'Y'sure wanna see what's under my mask? Y'sure yer sure?...'

Darcy huffed softly. “I’m sure that I’m sure that I’m sure. Enough sure’s for you?”

[gotthemetal]

‘Don’t say I didn’t warn ya!’ Hand lifted mask – grievingly. Some grizzly face peered at Darcy now, gnashed teeth for the reccess lady’s breast (the song, Jeremy) and wild gangly eyes sunk yellow into his face. Along with that - bumpy skin like bulging road kill. Screams were heard around the two as they march down Broadway. The bar they searched for not very far away. ‘Well, take a nice look. Th'face that fired a thousand bullets. Now, can we get t'that bar? I won’t be long…’ Melancholy voice, veiled face again – mask dangling just below chin.

[ofdarcy]

Darcy has a good poker face, and she puts it to use here. She’d already known Wade’s face wasn’t the prettiest, but she hadn’t really been expecting this. To be honest, she’d been expecting far worse. The internet was rife with rumors that he was missing an eye and several teeth, that his mouth was nothing but a yawning pit. Darcy hummed softly and then nods. “Yeah, I think it’s up here on the corner.”

[gotthemetal]

Reaction was – strange, he thought. No muffled, eye blaring scream. No echoing slap that pries a tooth from his gums. Darcy did nothing. Just nothing. Emotion swells his chest cavity like thick soup; cutting off air supply – need release. Kid stops and stares at Deadpool; mother, too, both with gaping maw. ‘Whaddayoulookin'at? You should see me when I run outta my smashbox. Now get outta here you adopted horse-face bowl-cut freak.’ Better. Deadpool lifts his face back to Darcy. ‘Corner y'say? Lead the way… I’ll follow ya in. Gotta reload, heh.’

[ofdarcy]

“Yeah, it’s just right here,” Darcy says, moving to open the door to the bar in question. “C'mon, I’ll buy ya a drink.”

[gotthemetal]

‘Usually my line. Y'know, before I put ‘em in a wheelchair from – awh, you get what I’m implyin’. I’m irresistable.’ Deadpool walked in, door swinging closed behind them. He looked around; no grubby fat man with cain here. Maybe in back – probably right to ask bartender. And maybe some patrons. Chips of ceiling fall in white fluttering dust cloud – romantic response to bullet piercing it. 'I’m lookin’ for a more overweight Bruce Campbell lookin’ chump. Anyone seen 'im?’ Patrons with their backs to the walls shake heads with don’t kill me look. The barman’s shotgun had jammed and that creased a smirk on Deadpool’s mask. 'Darc’… could you be a doll an’ look for a backroom door? Probably shoulda warned ya, too that I was gunna do a bar-pop!’

[ofdarcy]

“Uh, yeah, if I’d known guns were gonna be involved, I would’ve gotten drunk at home.” But Darcy starts forward to look for the door anyway, which she finds at the far end of the bar. “Here, I guess?”

[gotthemetal]

'Don't worry, there's plenty of time for shennanigans later.' He said, walkin' past Darcy into the back room. Nobody there -- all cleared out, just a map of America plastered on the wall. A red pin bulges out from the Mexican Border defined on the map. 'Looks like we're gonna have t'follow my old friends Clooney an' Tarantino -- down to MEHICO! But first, we drink.'

[ofdarcy]

'Y'sure wanna see what's under my mask? Y'sure yer sure?...'

Darcy huffed softly. “I’m sure that I’m sure that I’m sure. Enough sure’s for you?”

[gotthemetal]

‘Don’t say I didn’t warn ya!’ Hand lifted mask – grievingly. Some grizzly face peered at Darcy now, gnashed teeth for the reccess lady’s breast (the song, Jeremy) and wild gangly eyes sunk yellow into his face. Along with that - bumpy skin like bulging road kill. Screams were heard around the two as they march down Broadway. The bar they searched for not very far away. ‘Well, take a nice look. Th'face that fired a thousand bullets. Now, can we get t'that bar? I won’t be long…’ Melancholy voice, veiled face again – mask dangling just below chin.

[ofdarcy]

Darcy has a good poker face, and she puts it to use here. She’d already known Wade’s face wasn’t the prettiest, but she hadn’t really been expecting this. To be honest, she’d been expecting far worse. The internet was rife with rumors that he was missing an eye and several teeth, that his mouth was nothing but a yawning pit. Darcy hummed softly and then nods. “Yeah, I think it’s up here on the corner.”

[gotthemetal]

Reaction was – strange, he thought. No muffled, eye blaring scream. No echoing slap that pries a tooth from his gums. Darcy did nothing. Just nothing. Emotion swells his chest cavity like thick soup; cutting off air supply – need release. Kid stops and stares at Deadpool; mother, too, both with gaping maw. ‘Whaddayoulookin'at? You should see me when I run outta my smashbox. Now get outta here you adopted horse-face bowl-cut freak.’ Better. Deadpool lifts his face back to Darcy. ‘Corner y'say? Lead the way… I’ll follow ya in. Gotta reload, heh.’

[ofdarcy]

“Yeah, it’s just right here,” Darcy says, moving to open the door to the bar in question. “C'mon, I’ll buy ya a drink.”

[gotthemetal]

'Usually my line. Y'know, before I put 'em in a wheelchair from -- awh, you get what I'm implyin'. I'm irresistable.' Deadpool walked in, door swinging closed behind them. He looked around; no grubby fat man with cain here. Maybe in back -- probably right to ask bartender. And maybe some patrons. Chips of ceiling fall in white fluttering dust cloud -- romantic response to bullet piercing it. 'I'm lookin' for a more overweight Bruce Campbell lookin' chump. Anyone seen 'im?' Patrons with their backs to the walls shake heads with don't kill me look. The barman's shotgun had jammed and that creased a smirk on Deadpool's mask. 'Darc'... could you be a doll an' look for a backroom door? Probably shoulda warned ya, too that I was gunna do a bar-pop!'

[gotthemetal]

No Such Thang

Savoring every sip of his liqour, the Merc’ rested his elbows on the bar belonging to the Hell House. Cuppin’ his glass like a warm cup of comforting cocoa. ‘There’s no such thing as Bane… there’s no such thing as Bane…’

[penaduroforged]

     And as if almost on cue, the Santa Priscan entered the bar. All the other patrons took notice of the behemoth-sized South American, most of them leaving the bar. Knowing full and well what happened when you crossed the mercenary’s path. Brushing passed Wade, he took a seat on the stool next to him.      "Whiskey. Neat.“ He ordered from the bartender, who nodded in compliance. “What brings you into town, Señor Wilson?”

[gotthemetal]

Long, ruling shadow – tight fitting clothes to great muscles (like a bull on steroids) No liquor to denounce the behemoth’s existence.  A cool chill entered the bar with him. Like Mexican drug lord. Bigger than Mexican drug lord. Wade’s breathe distilled by fear as they sat side-by-side now. ‘Oh, nothin’ ya big lug. Just enjoyin’ the cool refreshing taste of my senses being muddled and limbs goin’ all flubbery. Reckon y’win enough arm wrestles to buy a Merc’ a drink?’ 

[penaduroforged]

     That earned the Merc’ a chuckle from the Santa Priscan as he gestured for the bartender to refill his glass. Complying with the bigger of the two’s request, Bane turned his attention back to Wade. Arms folded on top of the mahogany wood counter set in front of him.      "You look tense, Mr. Wilson. I took it for a man of your… talents, that fear didn’t suit you. Perhaps I was wrong. Pero, I assure you, you can relax. I’m not here to bring you harm. I come with a business proposal, in fact.“

[gotthemetal]

'Funny. I just don't want a "killed once by giant man's fart" notch on my gravestone.' He satired. 'Buuuut out with the proposal, a man should be able to afford his own drink -- and a cushiony bussom from --' Making a see-saw noise, thumb gesturing to a wailing blonde -- cute face kinda overweight that a man doesn't mind.

[ofdarcy]

'Y'sure wanna see what's under my mask? Y'sure yer sure?...'

Darcy huffed softly. “I’m sure that I’m sure that I’m sure. Enough sure’s for you?”

[gotthemetal]

‘Don’t say I didn’t warn ya!’ Hand lifted mask – grievingly. Some grizzly face peered at Darcy now, gnashed teeth for the reccess lady’s breast (the song, Jeremy) and wild gangly eyes sunk yellow into his face. Along with that - bumpy skin like bulging road kill. Screams were heard around the two as they march down Broadway. The bar they searched for not very far away. ‘Well, take a nice look. Th'face that fired a thousand bullets. Now, can we get t'that bar? I won’t be long…’ Melancholy voice, veiled face again – mask dangling just below chin.

[ofdarcy]

Darcy has a good poker face, and she puts it to use here. She’d already known Wade’s face wasn’t the prettiest, but she hadn’t really been expecting this. To be honest, she’d been expecting far worse. The internet was rife with rumors that he was missing an eye and several teeth, that his mouth was nothing but a yawning pit. Darcy hummed softly and then nods. “Yeah, I think it’s up here on the corner.”

[gotthemetal]

Reaction was -- strange, he thought. No muffled, eye blaring scream. No echoing slap that pries a tooth from his gums. Darcy did nothing. Just nothing. Emotion swells his chest cavity like thick soup; cutting off air supply -- need release. Kid stops and stares at Deadpool; mother, too, both with gaping maw. 'Whaddayoulookin'at? You should see me when I run outta my smashbox. Now get outta here you adopted horse-face bowl-cut freak.' Better. Deadpool lifts his face back to Darcy. 'Corner y'say? Lead the way... I'll follow ya in. Gotta reload, heh.'