[He blinks when Nate nudges his foot with his and so he nudges it right back. Footsie under the table while talking about trauma. He's on board. That might not have been Nate's intention, but it's how Wade is reading it. He takes a long sip of his drink, sinking deeper into his seat. Wade is sad for himself, but the tone of Nate and the words ping something else. For as much as Wade acts like a fool, he's observant when he cares to be.]
Who'd you lose? [Because yeah, it sounded to him like he's speaking from experience.]
( blue eyes lift to meet wade's eyes for just a second before they drop their gaze back down to the table, foot nudging at wade's again. he hasn't talked about this to anyone — figures scott and the others just know with already knowing him and he's not here to talk about himself — he's here for wade and to listen to what he needs to say, but. he figures... supposes... )
Forge.
( does wade even know [of] him? regardless, nate continues. )
When I escaped from the pens, he found me and took me in. He was the closest thing I had to a father.
( which is why being here, in this place, with his biological father is... strange. difficult. something he's still trying to figure out. he wasn't raised by scott — scott didn't raise him as one of his own and yet, he thinks of him as his son... scott himself feels like family to nate. so does jean.
reaching out with a hand, he pulls the spreader over to him with his mind and rolls it over between his fingers, looking to it. )
It's my fault he's dead because people wanted me to be their weapon.
( so he gets it, even if the situations are a little different. he stills gets that feeling of guilt and grief for letting someone down.
lifting the spreader up then, he looks to wade again. )
[Wade knows of Forge. But only because he's read a comic and the 90's cartoon! Got to love fourthwalling. But he's never made a movie debut, so he'll just have to play dumb on that one. He's just starting to escalate the little game of footsie by sliding a foot up one of Nate's legs only making it to his lower shin when Nate floats the spreader over to himself and his foot drops. He can't help but focus on the small blade as he toys with it, his heart twisting both for Nate and himself.]
Writers just gotta heap on the fucking trauma. Why can't there ever be any superheroes with perfectly healthy upbringings and absolutely no dead loved ones? Sure, they'd be boring as hell, but it would be a nice change of pace.
[He looks uncertain at Nate's question.] You can try? I've been trying to get rid of it but it keeps coming back.
( it's funny how he just always pretends to know what wade is talking about sometimes. or just... doesn't bother, really.
the question about the spreader, however, gets him to tilt his head some, white bangs falling a little in front of his face again. he turns the item over in his hands, lets blue eyes fixate on it a little and then, he lifts it from his fingers with his mind, having it linger there in the air between them. )
Maybe it needs to be blown apart.
( no sooner does he say that, his one eyes glows that familiar gold that he and cable both share and the spreader does, in fact, explode. into a hundred little pieces that are contained within an invisible sort of bubble there, keeping the shards from flying off and hitting anyone and just swirl around. nice and almost hypnotic in a way. nate stares at the display before them, a little longer than maybe he intends to, almost as if dissociating and, after a moment, his eyes fall shut and the pieces all fall to the table there.
bringing a hand up, he pinches at the bridge of his nose, eyes still shut. he feels lightheaded suddenly. )
If it comes back from that then I don't know what to tell you.
[It's easier not to try and understand what Wade is saying when he goes on a tear. It's not worth the headache.]
Maybe it does, are going to- oh fuck! [He flinches when the spreader explodes, fully expecting to get pelted with shrapnel before noticing that it's contained, and then awkwardly acts like he hadn't been worried in the slightest. He watches too as the shrapnel falls, leaning forward to shield his drink.]
I sure hope that'll do it, thanks man. [He is touched actually, although his brow furrows seeing him pinching the bridge of his nose. He moves forward and reaches over the table to touch Nate's shoulder.] Hey, you okay?
( the touch to his shoulder is enough to pull him out of the dizziness he feels and he blinks those blue eyes of his, looking up from his hand to wade and there's such a softness there in his eyes. )
Yeah. ( he shrugs the concern off, slow nod to come as he drops his hand away and clears his throat. ) Cool trick, right?
( the smile he wears is soft and he reaches out then to gently touch at the shards with the tips of his fingers. he hopes that's enough. )
[Wade smiles back, patting his shoulder, and maybe letting his hand linger a bit before finally moving to sit back down.] It was a fucking sweet trick, Nate. I could watch you blow up shit all day honestly.
I would join you if I had my C4. But unfortunately, I didn't come to the city with my plastic explosives. [There is a lot of shit he'd like to blow up here and not just cream cheese spreaders.]
( he watches the way that hand slips away from him - the way it settles back onto the table and he's quiet as he does, fingers still resting over the shards there in front of them. it's only after a moment that he lifts his head up and, as he does, there's a soft huff of laughter there on his lips with the smile he just barely wears. that right there is difficult to do most days... smile. but wade seems to make it come a little easier some days.
leaning back in his seat, he cards a set of fingers through his hair and pushes those white bangs out of his face. )
Yeah, well. Let's just hope I don't have to make any house calls to blow this thing up again.
( again, he looks to the pile before he lifts his gaze up to wade. )
You could make house calls anyway. Even if it's not to blow things up. Just sayin'. I'll leave a window cracked for you.
[He's looking quite pleased with himself that he got Nate to laugh and smile. It's nice. He's so serious. Maybe not quite as serious as Cable, but getting there.]
Was thinking about it. I don't have any other plans tonight.
( the thought of him forever making house calls through the window gets him to raise his brows with a bit of a smile because... it's funny to think. so many things here are new to him - he feels like a fish out of water more often than not that him climbing through a window rather than using a door [which he knows to do] is just... fitting in an amusing way. maybe he will. who knows. )
Mentally noted.
( hands rubbing down his thighs, he sits up and gives a playful little nudge to wade's shin under the table. )
( this right here is a foreign concept to nate: to go out for drinks with someone. so much of this place and what people do is not anything he's used to, but. that doesn't mean he isn't curious... doesn't mean some part of him craves to have some semblance of "normal" in his life. or at least, something close enough to it.
he lets the tip of his foot brush against wade's shin in a slow stroke of up and down as he mulls over the invite before he looks over his shoulder to someone and says )
I need your glass.
( the person blinks and gives the glass over to him, nate smiling and twisting back around to look to wade.
seems like all signs point to yes. if even for one. )
[Wade is very distracted by that foot and the thoughts swirling around in his own head about what it all means. If it needs to mean anything. And if he's maybe he's just too horny for his own good. Blinking he looks up as Nate speaks, taking him a second to focus first on the words and then second on who they're directed to.]
Uh, you could have just asked the bartender to get you one, you know. [Not that Wade particularly cares. Especially not right now. Since that clearly means Nate intends to stay a little while longer.]
( curious, he brings the pitcher in a little closer and lifts it [with his hand, gosh] to pour a relatively generous amount into his glass. a point to the pitcher, he slides it back [with his mind this time] over to wade and looks down to what he's taken for himself in the glass.
glass raised, he does the rookie mistake of sniffing it first, pulls a bit of a face, then takes a rather large sip of it and... squints. still swallows. but squints real hard at wade. )
Wow. Ok. That's... I don't even know.
( but hey, it gets him to chuckle a bit, even if he's licking over his lips after it. )
( again, he takes another long sip and he nearly finishes the drink this time. blue eyes blinking as he sets the glass down, staring to it, slowly turning the glass around between his fingers. a half-smile there tugging at the corner of his mouth, he cants his head to the side. )
Sounds about right for you.
( another slow blink, he lets out a breath, rubbing a knuckle into the corner of his eye for a moment. )
( that being said, he drops his hand away from his eye and blinks those baby blues of his open, sliding the tip of his toe up along wade's leg to his knee before he drops it down, moving from his seat. )
[He lingers in his spot a bit longer after Nate gets up. Is he adjusting his pants? Maybe. Pay no attention to the chubby behind the trousers! He just needs a second. And then he's up. He's a bit shaky on his feet, the alcohol doing what he'd bought it for after all.]<
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Who'd you lose? [Because yeah, it sounded to him like he's speaking from experience.]
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Forge.
( does wade even know [of] him? regardless, nate continues. )
When I escaped from the pens, he found me and took me in. He was the closest thing I had to a father.
( which is why being here, in this place, with his biological father is... strange. difficult. something he's still trying to figure out. he wasn't raised by scott — scott didn't raise him as one of his own and yet, he thinks of him as his son... scott himself feels like family to nate. so does jean.
reaching out with a hand, he pulls the spreader over to him with his mind and rolls it over between his fingers, looking to it. )
It's my fault he's dead because people wanted me to be their weapon.
( so he gets it, even if the situations are a little different. he stills gets that feeling of guilt and grief for letting someone down.
lifting the spreader up then, he looks to wade again. )
Do you want me to get rid of it for you?
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Writers just gotta heap on the fucking trauma. Why can't there ever be any superheroes with perfectly healthy upbringings and absolutely no dead loved ones? Sure, they'd be boring as hell, but it would be a nice change of pace.
[He looks uncertain at Nate's question.] You can try? I've been trying to get rid of it but it keeps coming back.
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the question about the spreader, however, gets him to tilt his head some, white bangs falling a little in front of his face again. he turns the item over in his hands, lets blue eyes fixate on it a little and then, he lifts it from his fingers with his mind, having it linger there in the air between them. )
Maybe it needs to be blown apart.
( no sooner does he say that, his one eyes glows that familiar gold that he and cable both share and the spreader does, in fact, explode. into a hundred little pieces that are contained within an invisible sort of bubble there, keeping the shards from flying off and hitting anyone and just swirl around. nice and almost hypnotic in a way. nate stares at the display before them, a little longer than maybe he intends to, almost as if dissociating and, after a moment, his eyes fall shut and the pieces all fall to the table there.
bringing a hand up, he pinches at the bridge of his nose, eyes still shut. he feels lightheaded suddenly. )
If it comes back from that then I don't know what to tell you.
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Maybe it does, are going to- oh fuck! [He flinches when the spreader explodes, fully expecting to get pelted with shrapnel before noticing that it's contained, and then awkwardly acts like he hadn't been worried in the slightest. He watches too as the shrapnel falls, leaning forward to shield his drink.]
I sure hope that'll do it, thanks man. [He is touched actually, although his brow furrows seeing him pinching the bridge of his nose. He moves forward and reaches over the table to touch Nate's shoulder.] Hey, you okay?
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Yeah. ( he shrugs the concern off, slow nod to come as he drops his hand away and clears his throat. ) Cool trick, right?
( the smile he wears is soft and he reaches out then to gently touch at the shards with the tips of his fingers. he hopes that's enough. )
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I would join you if I had my C4. But unfortunately, I didn't come to the city with my plastic explosives. [There is a lot of shit he'd like to blow up here and not just cream cheese spreaders.]
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leaning back in his seat, he cards a set of fingers through his hair and pushes those white bangs out of his face. )
Yeah, well. Let's just hope I don't have to make any house calls to blow this thing up again.
( again, he looks to the pile before he lifts his gaze up to wade. )
You still planning to try and get yourself drunk?
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[He's looking quite pleased with himself that he got Nate to laugh and smile. It's nice. He's so serious. Maybe not quite as serious as Cable, but getting there.]
Was thinking about it. I don't have any other plans tonight.
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Mentally noted.
( hands rubbing down his thighs, he sits up and gives a playful little nudge to wade's shin under the table. )
Should I leave you to it then?
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Otherwise, I'll see you around?
[He hopes sooner rather than later.]
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he lets the tip of his foot brush against wade's shin in a slow stroke of up and down as he mulls over the invite before he looks over his shoulder to someone and says )
I need your glass.
( the person blinks and gives the glass over to him, nate smiling and twisting back around to look to wade.
seems like all signs point to yes. if even for one. )
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Uh, you could have just asked the bartender to get you one, you know. [Not that Wade particularly cares. Especially not right now. Since that clearly means Nate intends to stay a little while longer.]
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This was faster.
( telepaths are gonna telepath.
lifting his chin up, he gestures to wade's drink. )
What is that you're drinking?
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It's a daiquiri. Rum, sugar, and some lime. It's good!
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glass raised, he does the rookie mistake of sniffing it first, pulls a bit of a face, then takes a rather large sip of it and... squints. still swallows. but squints real hard at wade. )
Wow. Ok. That's... I don't even know.
( but hey, it gets him to chuckle a bit, even if he's licking over his lips after it. )
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[Wade hooks his feet around one of Nate's under the table, as he grabs the pitcher back, grinning] Oooh, am I corrupting you?
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If you could corrupt me, I'd be real impressed.
( not him being an arrogant shit about being a telepath. not nate grey. )
If this what you usually drink when you go out to drink?
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[He laughs, going back to sipping at his pitcher. Not that he really wants to corrupt him, per se...]
I don't have a regular order. Daiquiris, pina coladas, margaritas, Long Island ice teas, whatever. But I do like 'em fruity!
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Sounds about right for you.
( another slow blink, he lets out a breath, rubbing a knuckle into the corner of his eye for a moment. )
Are you feeling any better?
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I set myself right up for that one. [He admits, daring to draw one of his feet up the side of Nate's calf, stopping just shy of his knee.]
Much better. You doin' alright over there?
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Yeah it's just... stuffy in here.
( psychically, he means. )
Do you wanna go somewhere?
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Go somewhere? You propositioning me, Nate? I'm positively scandalized!
[Although he is a little concerned about the way Nate is rubbing his eye. If something bad happens, Scott is definitely going to blame him.]
The beach?
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( that being said, he drops his hand away from his eye and blinks those baby blues of his open, sliding the tip of his toe up along wade's leg to his knee before he drops it down, moving from his seat. )
I meant outside. I need some air. Less.. noise.
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[Maybe?]
No. You're right. Probably it couldn't.
[He lingers in his spot a bit longer after Nate gets up. Is he adjusting his pants? Maybe. Pay no attention to the chubby behind the trousers! He just needs a second. And then he's up. He's a bit shaky on his feet, the alcohol doing what he'd bought it for after all.]<
Alright, outside it is. Right behind you.
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cw: gore/blood
cw: gore/blood
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cw: gore/blood
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gently slaps a nsfw ig
*cue the porn music *
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cw: cancer